Arc 1, Chapter 9: The Battle for Sanctuary
The first volley from the Confluence fleet lit up space like a miniature sun.
Energy beams, each one powerful enough to vaporize a small ship, lanced through the void toward Sanctuary's defense fleet. The hybrid vessels scattered, their mismatched propulsion systems giving them an unpredictable quality that made targeting difficult.
"Evasive pattern Delta-Three!" Stellar ordered. "Stay with the fleet, but keep us mobile!"
Reeves's hands dexterous on the helm controls, throwing the Pathfinder into a corkscrew maneuver that only a handful of pilots could pull off.
"Shields at ninety-two percent." Clark reported. "They're testing our defenses, not trying to kill us yet."
"Yet being the operative word." Thorne muttered from tactical. "Captain, I'm reading weapons signatures on that dreadnought that don't match anything in our database. Whatever it's packing, it's beyond standard Confluence technology."
"How is that possible?" Hayes asked. "I thought The Confluence had the most advanced military in the galaxy."
"They have the most advanced military they've shown anyone," James corrected from the engineering console. "But The Confluence has been harvesting civilizations for thousands of years. Who knows what weapons they've acquired and kept in reserve?"
Another volley, this time from multiple cruisers simultaneously. Sanctuary's defense fleet returned fire, their hybrid weapons creating spectacular light shows as they impacted Confluence shields. But the shields held, barely flickering under the assault.
"Their shields seem to be adaptive." Clark said, studying his sensors. "Every time we hit them with the same weapon frequency, they adjust. We're not even scratching them."
"Then we change frequencies." Stellar said. "Thorne, rotate through every weapon configuration we have. Don't fire the same way at the same place twice."
"Yes, Captain." Thorne at weapons controls. "Firing forward batteries, configuration Alpha... switching to Beta... now Gamma..."
The Pathfinder's weapons fire became erratic, unpredictable. And for the first time, one of the enforcement cruisers' shields flickered under a sustained hit.
"That's it!" Clark exclaimed. "Their adaptive systems need time to analyze and adjust. If we keep changing our attack patterns, we can get through!"
"Transmit that to the fleet." Stellar ordered. "Let's see if we can coordinate this chaos."
Sarah's voice came through the comm, her fighter weaving through weapons fire with reckless precision. "All ships, this is Chen. Rotate your weapon frequencies and never hit the same target with the same configuration twice. Make them work for every adaptation!"
The Sanctuary defense fleet adjusted their tactics. Ships that had been firing independently began coordinating their attacks, each one using different frequencies and patterns. The Confluence shields began to flicker more frequently, and several cruisers showed hull damage.
But it wasn't enough of course.
"Captain," James said, his voice grim, "even if we destroy every enforcement cruiser, that dreadnought hasn't fired yet. It's just sitting there, watching."
He was right. The massive vessel hung at the back of the Confluence formation, its weapon ports open but dark. Waiting.
"It's evaluating us." Stellar realized. "Watching our tactics, our capabilities. Learning how we fight so it can counter us more effectively."
"Then we don't give it time to learn." Thorne said. "I recommend we hit it now, hit it hard, before it's ready."
"Commander, that ship could probably take our entire fleet and barely notice." Clark protested.
"Maybe. But it hasn't raised its shields yet. Look..." Thorne pulled up the sensor data. "The dreadnought's shields are down. It's so confident in the cruisers' ability to protect it that it hasn't even bothered to defend itself."
Stellar studied the tactical display. She was right. The dreadnought sat in space, massive and vulnerable, shields inactive. It was arrogance, the kind that came from thousands of years of never losing a battle.
"If we could get a strike force through the cruiser screen," Stellar said slowly, "we might be able to damage it before those shields come up."
"I'll lead it." Thorne said immediately.
"Commander..."
"Captain, with respect, I'm the best pilot on this ship after Reeves, and I'm a better shot. Give me a fighter, three volunteers from Sanctuary's fleet, and five minutes. We'll make that dreadnought regret its arrogance."
Stellar wanted to say no. Wanted to keep his second-in-command safe on the bridge where she belonged. But he knew that look in her eyes. The same look she'd had when they were rivals at the academy, when she'd beaten him in the hand-to-hand combat finals, when she'd proven that she was willing to risk everything to win.
"Do it." he said. "Hayes, coordinate with Sanctuary's fighter command. Get Commander Thorne her strike team."
"Yes, Captain."
Thorne was already moving toward the exit. "Keep the cruisers busy, Captain. We'll only get one shot at this."
She paused at the door, turned back. "Off the record, if this goes wrong, tell my family I died doing something cool."
"It's not going wrong, Farrah. Come back safe. You have your orders."
She flashed him a grin and was gone.
Three minutes later, Commander Thorne sat in the cockpit of a Sanctuary fighter, a hybrid of Kresh and Quellan technology that responded to her thoughts as much as her hands. It was unsettling and exhilarating in equal measure.
"Strike Team Alpha, sound off," she said into the comm.
"This is Pilot Kesh'tar of the Voth." The voice was accompanied by harmonic tones that the translator struggled with. "My weapons are charged and ready."
"Pilot Verim, Quellan." This voice was the melodious one Thorne had heard from Councilor Verath. "I have flown against The Confluence before, Commander. I know their patterns."
"Pilot... well, I don't have a name you could pronounce." The third voice was accompanied by what sounded like grinding metal. "Just call me Crash. I've survived three Confluence engagements. Let's make it four."
"Good," Thorne said, checking her weapons one last time. "Here's the plan: we use the debris field from the damaged ships as cover, approach from below the cruiser formation where their sensors are weakest, and punch through to the dreadnought before they realize we're coming. Once we're in range, we hit it with everything we have. All weapons, all at once, concentrated on what looks like the main reactor housing on the starboard side."
"And when the dreadnought's shields come up?" Verim asked.
"Then we run like whatever you all call hell and hope we did enough damage to matter."
"I like this human." Crash said. "She thinks like someone who wants to die gloriously."
"I think like someone who wants to win." Thorne corrected. "Glory is just a bonus. Strike Team Alpha, on my mark...mark!"
The four fighters broke formation, diving "down", relative to the battle's current orientation, and using the wreckage of two destroyed Sanctuary ships as cover. Thorne felt a pang of sadness for the pilots who'd died in those vessels, but she pushed it aside. Grief was a luxury for after the battle.
The cruiser formation was focused on the main Sanctuary fleet, their weapons fire creating a deadly web of energy beams. But below them, there was a gap, small, but large enough for four small fighters to slip through.
"Cutting engines to minimal." Thorne whispered, as if speaking too loudly would give them away. "Coast through on momentum. Weapons cold until we're in position."
The four fighters drifted through the gap, silent as ghosts. Thorne's heart hammered in her chest, waiting for the moment when alarms would sound and the cruisers would turn their attention to the intruders.
But the moment never came.
They slipped through the screen and suddenly the dreadnought filled Thorne's viewport. Up close, it was even more massive than she'd imagined. A kilometer of weaponized metal and technology, bristling with systems she couldn't even identify.
And its shields were still down.
"All pilots, weapons hot." Thorne ordered. "Target the reactor housing. Fire on my mark. Three... two... one... mark!"
Four fighters opened up simultaneously, every weapon firing at maximum power. Missiles, energy beams, plasma torpedoes, all of it concentrated on a single point on the dreadnought's hull.
For a moment, nothing happened. The weapons fire splashed against the armor, and Thorne felt her hope crumble. They'd risked everything for nothing.
Then the armor plating cracked.
A fissure spread across the dreadnought's hull, and atmosphere began venting into space. Secondary explosions rippled through the interior, visible through the breach. Alarms must have been screaming inside that ship.
"We did it!" Crash shouted. "We actually..."
The dreadnought's shields snapped up, a brilliant blue-white barrier that would have vaporized the fighters if they'd still been firing.
"Break! Break! Break!" Thorne shouted, throwing her fighter into a hard turn. The other three scattered, each one heading in a different direction.
Energy beams lanced out from the cruiser formation, no longer focused on the main fleet. They were targeting the strike team now, and they were not happy.
Thorne's fighter screamed in protest as she pushed it through maneuvers it probably wasn't designed for. A beam passed close enough to singe her shields, and proximity alarms shrieked in her ear.
"Strike team, report!" she called out.
"Kesh'tar here. I am damaged but functional."
"Verim reporting. My shields are depleted and I'm heading back to Sanctuary for repairs."
Silence from Crash.
"Crash, respond!"
More silence. Then, barely audible through static: "Crash here. I'm hit. Bad. Engines are gone. Life support is failing." A pause, filled with the sound of labored breathing. "But Commander? That was the most glorious thing I've ever done. Tell my clutch-mates I died like a warrior."
"Crash, hang on. We'll send a recovery ship."
"No time. And no point. My species doesn't survive vacuum exposure." The grinding metal voice was getting fainter. "Make it count, Commander Thorne. Make my death mean something."
The comm went silent.
Thorne gritted her teeth, feeling rage and grief war inside her. She didn't even know what species Crash had been. Didn't know their real name. But they'd followed her into a suicide mission and paid the ultimate price.
"All ships," she said into the comm, her voice cold with fury, "this is Commander Thorne. The dreadnought is damaged. We cracked their reactor housing. Now let's finish what Pilot Crash started."
She brought her fighter around, heading back toward the Pathfinder. Behind her, the dreadnought was listing slightly, atmosphere still venting from the breach. It wasn't destroyed, not even close. But it was hurt.
And that meant it could bleed.
On the Pathfinder's bridge, Stellar watched Thorne's fighter approach and felt relief wash over him. She'd made it back. They'd actually damaged a Confluence dreadnought.
But the cost...
"Captain, the dreadnought is powering up its weapons." Clark said. "Whatever we did to it, I'm pretty sure we made it angry."
The massive vessel's gun ports lit up, and Stellar knew they were in trouble. If that ship fired at full power, it could destroy half of Sanctuary's defense fleet in seconds.
"All ships, scatter pattern!" Stellar ordered. "Don't give it a concentrated target!"
The defense fleet broke formation, ships heading in every direction. But the dreadnought didn't fire at them.
Instead, it turned its weapons on Sanctuary itself.
"No!" Sarah's voice screamed over the comm. "They're targeting the civilian sections! There are thousands of refugees in those districts!"
Stellar's mind raced. They needed to draw fire away from the station, needed to make themselves a more attractive target than helpless civilians.
"Reeves, take us in. Put us between the dreadnought and Sanctuary."
"Sir, that will put us in direct line of fire." Reeves protested.
"That's the point. Hayes, broadcast to all ships. Form up on the Pathfinder. We're going to be a shield."
"Captain, that's suicide." Clark said.
"Maybe. But it's better than letting them murder thousands of civilians." Stellar looked at his crew. "Anyone who disagrees is free to object. Now."
Silence. Then Clark smiled slightly. "Well, if we're going to die, might as well die as heroes."
"Well, Thorne will finally get her wish."
The Pathfinder surged forward, positioning itself between the dreadnought and Sanctuary. Other ships joined them...Sarah's Last Hope, the Defiance with Commander Vex at the helm, and dozens of other vessels, all willing to sacrifice themselves for the refugees behind them.
The dreadnought's weapons reached full charge.
And then something impossible happened.
The weapons powered down.
"What..." Stellar began.
"Captain, I'm receiving a transmission from the dreadnought." Hayes said, her voice confused. "It's... it's asking for a cease-fire. They want to negotiate."
"That's not how The Confluence operates," James said, standing up from his console. "They don't negotiate during battle. They conquer or they withdraw. This is wrong."
Mitchell released a sharp cry, his warning pattern for deception.
"It's a trap," Stellar said. "They're trying to get us to lower our guard."
"Or," a new voice came through the comm...human, female, cultured, and cold. "we're trying to prevent unnecessary bloodshed. Captain Stellar, I believe we have much to discuss."
The viewscreen flickered, and a woman's face appeared. She was middle-aged, with sharp features and eyes that calculated everything they saw. She wore a uniform Stellar recognized, United Earth Command.
But it wasn't Admiral Chen.
"I am Captain Helena Vask of the UES Determination." the woman said. "I command this Confluence enforcement dreadnought on behalf of the Vescarri Sovereignty. And I have a proposition for you."
"Vask." James breathed. "I remember her. She was a junior officer on the Prometheus. She chose augmentation over resistance."
"You chose to serve The Confluence," Stellar said, his voice hard. "You're a traitor to humanity."
Vask smiled, a cold expression that didn't reach her eyes. "I chose survival, Captain Stellar. Just as you're choosing it now by trying to protect these refugees. We're not so different, you and I."
"Oh, I have a feeling we're much different."
"You came here seeking allies to fight The Confluence. I came here seeking to eliminate a threat to galactic order. We both believe we're doing the right thing." Vask leaned forward. "But I'm offering you a choice. Stand down. Allow us to process the refugees according to Confluence law. And in exchange, I will personally guarantee safe passage for the Pathfinder and its crew. You can return to Earth. Forget you ever came here. Go back to your lives."
"And the refugees?" Stellar asked.
"Will be evaluated according to their skills and assigned to appropriate work programs. They'll be treated fairly, given adequate living conditions, and their rights under Confluence law will be respected."
"We've been over this. They'll be slaves." Thorne said, her fighter now docked and she was back on the bridge.
"I'm offering them purpose." Vask replied. "Most of these refugees are from species that have no place in the modern galactic order. They're evolutionary dead ends, genetic accidents, or simply too primitive to compete. The Confluence gives them meaning. Uses their talents for the greater good of civilization."
"The Prometheus crew thought we were serving a greater good too." James said, stepping forward so Vask could see him. "How's that working out for you, Captain? Still think you made the right choice?"
Vask's expression hardened when she saw James. "Commander Stellar. I heard you escaped. That was... disappointing. You were one of our best."
"I was one of your prisoners."
"You were one of our success stories. Proof that humans could be more than what nature made them." Vask gestured to James's augmentations. "You're stronger now. Faster. More capable. The Confluence improved you."
"The Confluence destroyed me." James said. "Took everything that made me human and replaced it with machinery. I'm a walking reminder of what happens when you let them own you."
"You're a walking reminder of what humans can become when they stop limiting themselves to biological evolution." Vask countered. She turned her attention back to Stellar. "Captain, I'm giving you five minutes to decide. Stand down and go home, or continue this futile battle and watch everyone you're trying to protect die. Choose wisely."
The transmission cut off.
The bridge was silent for a long moment.
"Captain," Clark said quietly, "she's not bluffing. That dreadnought could destroy Sanctuary and there's nothing we could do to stop it. We hurt it, but not enough."
"So we give up?" Thorne asked. "Let them take everyone here? Let Vask win?"
"No," Stellar said. "We do neither. Hayes, get me a secure channel to Councilor Verath. And Clark, I need you to access that file the shapeshifter was after. The Architect Protocol. Whatever it is, it's important enough that The Confluence sent an infiltrator to steal it. Maybe it's important enough to save us."
"Captain, I told you, I can't access it without Council authorization."
"Then we get authorization. Hayes?"
"Councilor Verath is on the line, Captain."
The viewscreen split, showing both the dreadnought and Verath's amphibious features. The Quellan looked exhausted, worried.
"Captain Stellar, I saw what your Commander Thorne did. Brave, but ultimately futile. That dreadnought can withstand..."
"Councilor, I need access to the Architect Protocol. Now."
Verath's skin color shifted...surprise, Stellar guessed. "That file is restricted for a reason, Captain. The knowledge it contains is dangerous."
"More dangerous than a Confluence dreadnought about to massacre thousands of refugees?"
"Possibly. The Architect Protocol describes technology that could destroy not just Sanctuary, but entire star systems. It's why we've kept it locked away."
"A weapon?" Stellar asked.
"Not exactly. The Architects who created Sanctuary's foundation weren't warriors. They were..." Verath struggled to find the right word. "Explorers. Scientists. They didn't build weapons. They built doorways."
"Doorways to where?"
"To places The Confluence can't follow. Dimensions beyond their understanding. Realities where their laws don't apply." Verath's color shifted again...fear, this time. "But using that technology is dangerous. The Architects themselves disappeared after activating it. We don't know if they escaped or if they destroyed themselves trying."
Stellar looked at the clock counting down on his console. Three minutes left before Vask's deadline.
"Councilor, I need that file. Because in three minutes, we either surrender or we die. And I don't like either of those. Give me that third option."
Verath was silent for a long moment. Then... "May whatever gods still watch over us forgive me. Commander Clark, I'm transmitting my authorization codes now. Access the Architect Protocol. And Captain Stellar? Whatever you find in there, use it carefully, or don't use it at all."
"Understood. Thank you, Councilor."
Clark's eyes got wide as the authorization codes came through. Security layers peeled away, revealing a file that was hundreds of terabytes in size, massive even by the standards of the Archive.
"Captain, this is going to take time to process. Even just scanning through the index..." Clark paused, his eyes widening. "Oh my God."
"Clark?"
"The Architects didn't just build doorways to other dimensions. They built doorways through time. This file contains the mathematical framework for controlled temporal displacement. They could move entire structures through time, forward or backward, without creating paradoxes."
"Time travel?" Thorne said incredulously.
"Not exactly. More like...time-shifting. Moving something out of the current timeline and placing it in a different one. Sanctuary could be here one moment and a thousand years in the past the next." Clark's voice filled with excitement and terror. "Captain, if we could activate this technology, we could move Sanctuary beyond The Confluence's reach. They'd never find us because we'd exist in a different time entirely."
"CAN we activate it?" Stellar asked.
"The controls are all here. The power requirements are enormous, but Sanctuary's reactor system could handle it if we diverted everything, shields, weapons, life support in non-essential sections." Clark pulled up more data. "But Captain, there's a problem. The temporal displacement isn't precise. The Architects' notes suggest a margin of error of plus or minus five hundred years. We could end up anywhere in that range."
"And if we went back five hundred years, we'd be in the middle of Confluence space before they even knew about this region," James added. "We'd be discovered immediately."
"Or if we went forward five hundred years, we might emerge into a galaxy where The Confluence has already found and destroyed every refuge," Clark continued. "We're playing Russian roulette with time itself."
One minute left.
Stellar looked around his bridge. Saw his small crew. Seventeen people who'd followed him into the unknown, who'd trusted him to find a way out of impossible situations. Saw Mitchell, perched on his chair, the eagle watching him with those intelligent eyes. Saw his grandfather, a man who'd spent seventy years paying for one mistake.
And he thought about the thousands of refugees on Sanctuary. Beings from dozens of species who'd lost everything and found a home here. Who'd built something beautiful from the wreckage of their civilizations.
"Captain Stellar," Vask's voice came through the comm, "your time is up. What is your decision?"
Stellar stood. "Clark, can you link the temporal displacement controls to my command console?"
"Yes, but Captain..."
"Do it. Now."
Clark hesitated, then agreed. A new interface appeared on Stellar's command screen, the Architect Protocol's activation sequence.
"Hayes, open a channel. All ships, all frequencies. I want everyone to hear this."
"Channel open, sir."
Stellar took a breath. "This is Captain Bub Stellar to all Sanctuary forces and to Captain Vask of the Confluence dreadnought. We've heard your terms, Captain Vask. And we reject them. These refugees have built something remarkable here, a place where species from across the galaxy can live together, learn from each other, and exist free from The Confluence's harvesting programs. We will not surrender that. We will not surrender them."
"Then you choose death," Vask replied. "How noble. How pointless."
"We choose the third option." Stellar continued. "The Architect Protocol. Sanctuary is about to go somewhere The Confluence can never follow. Somewhere beyond your laws, beyond your ships, beyond your entire understanding of reality."
"You're bluffing. The Architect Protocol is a legend. The technology doesn't exist."
"Then you have nothing to worry about." Stellar's hand hovered over the activation control. "Councilor Verath, I need you to give the evacuation order. All civilians to the central districts. All ships to dock immediately. We have sixty seconds."
"Captain Stellar, you're talking about moving fifty thousand beings through time!" Verath protested. "The risk..."
"Is better than certain death. Give the order, Councilor."
Another pause. Then Verath's melodious voice filled Sanctuary's internal comm system, speaking in multiple languages simultaneously, ordering all refugees to designated safe zones.
Stellar watched the chaos on his sensors as beings rushed through corridors, ships docked at reckless speeds, parents grabbed children and ran toward shelter. Sixty seconds to prepare for a journey that might destroy them all.
"Captain," Vask said, and for the first time, there was uncertainty in her voice, "if you activate that technology, you could kill everyone on that station. The Architects disappeared for a reason. Whatever they found on the other side of that temporal gateway destroyed them."
"Maybe," Stellar agreed. "Or maybe they found something better than slavery. Something worth risking everything for. Seems we're about to find out."
Thirty seconds.
The dreadnought's weapons began to power up again.
"Captain, she's going to fire!" Clark shouted.
"Then she'd better fire fast. Twenty seconds."
Stellar's hand moved closer to the control. He could feel everyone's eyes on him—his crew, his grandfather, even Mitchell seemed to be holding his breath.
Ten seconds.
"Bub," James said quietly, "I'm proud of you. Whatever happens next, remember that."
"Thorne?" Stellar asked.
"This is insane," she replied. "Let's do it."
Five seconds.
The dreadnought fired, every weapon simultaneously, all aimed at Sanctuary.
And Stellar activated the Architect Protocol.
The universe screamed.
That was the only way to describe it. Reality itself seemed to protest as the ancient technology engaged, tearing a hole in the fabric of space-time. The energy beams from the dreadnought hit where Sanctuary had been, but the station was no longer there.
Sanctuary and everything within ten thousand kilometers, including the Pathfinder and several other docked ships, ceased to exist in the present moment.
Colors Stellar had no names for flooded the viewscreen. His body felt like it was being pulled in every direction simultaneously. Time itself became fluid, moments stretching and compressing, past and future existing simultaneously.
And through it all, he could hear voices. Thousands of them. Beings speaking languages that hadn't been invented yet, or had been lost to history. The Architects, maybe, calling out from whatever place they'd gone. Warning? Welcoming? Screaming?
Stellar couldn't tell.
And then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.
The colors faded. The sensation of being pulled apart vanished. Reality reasserted itself with a gentle finality that felt almost anticlimactic.
"Status report." Stellar managed to say, his voice hoarse.
"Hull integrity intact." Clark said, sounding amazed. "Engines functional. Life support nominal. Captain...we're alive. We actually survived temporal displacement."
"Where are we?" Thorne asked. "Or when are we?"
"According to the navigational computer..." Clark's voice trailed off. "Captain, we're in the same region of space. But the star positions are wrong. Way wrong. We've moved forward in time. Approximately... four hundred and seventy-three years."
The bridge went silent.
"Four hundred and seventy-three years," Stellar repeated. "We just jumped nearly five centuries into the future."
"And The Confluence?" James asked.
Clark scanned frantically. "No Confluence signatures. No ships at all. In fact, I'm not reading any spacecraft anywhere in this sector. No colonies. No outposts. It's like... it's like civilization has completely abandoned this region of space."
"Maybe The Confluence finally won," Thorne said quietly. "Maybe they harvested everything and moved on."
"Or maybe they lost." a new voice said.
Everyone turned to see Sarah Chen standing in the doorway of the bridge, looking disheveled but alive. Behind her were other faces, crew members, refugees, even Councilor Verath.
"How did you get aboard?" Stellar asked.
"My ship was still docked when you activated the protocol." Sarah explained. "I came through with you. Along with about thirty other ships that didn't make it back to Sanctuary in time." She moved to the sensor console, studying the data. "Captain, look at this. I'm picking up a signal. Broadcasting from what looks like Earth's coordinates."
"....Put it through." Stellar ordered.
Static filled the bridge, then cleared into a message. A voice speaking in standard English, but with an accent Stellar had never heard before. Something that sounded like English, but had evolved over centuries.
"...repeating this message on all frequencies. If anyone receives this, please respond. We are the Free Human Collective, broadcasting from New Earth. The Tyranny ended forty years ago. We are free. If you are hearing this and you are human, please come home. We want to know we're not alone. Please...come home."
The message repeated.
"The Tyranny." Stellar said. "They must mean The Confluence."
"It ended forty years ago." Clark added. "In this timeline, four hundred and seventy-three years from our original time, The Confluence fell."
"But how?" James asked. "How does an empire that lasted thousands of years just...end?"
"That," Stellar said, staring at the stars on the viewscreen, stars that were in positions they wouldn't reach for centuries in his original timeline, "is what we're going to find out."
Mitchell released a long, melodious cry. Not a warning. Not a declaration of deception.
A cry of hope.
"The bird senses something." Carmelon said, smiling despite the insanity of what they'd just experienced. "A path forward. A way home."
"But which home?" Thorne asked. "The Earth we left, or this New Earth four hundred years in our future?"
It was Verath who answered, the Quellan's skin shimmering with colors Stellar was beginning to recognize as determination. "Both, Commander Thorne. We find a way to contact this Free Human Collective. We learn what happened to The Confluence. And then, if the Architect Protocol can move us forward in time, perhaps it can move us back. Perhaps we can take the knowledge of The Confluence's fall back to our own time and use it to save everyone we left behind."
"That's a lot of 'perhaps'." Clark observed.
"But it's a chance," Stellar said. "Which is more than we had five minutes ago when we were staring down a dreadnought." He stood, feeling purpose crystallize in his chest. "Hayes, respond to that broadcast. Tell them...tell them that humans from the past heard their call. That we're coming. And that we have a lot of questions."
"Yes, Captain. Transmitting now."
Stellar looked at his small crew, at the refugees from Sanctuary who'd accidentally been pulled into the future with them, at his grandfather who'd waited seventy years for redemption and might now get a chance at it.
They'd escaped The Confluence. But they'd also left behind everyone they were trying to save. Earth, New Titan, billions of humans who didn't know that in their timeline, in their present, they were still under threat.
"Captain," James said quietly, moving to stand beside his grandson, "we're going to need a plan. A real one. Not just survival, but victory. We need to figure out what brought down The Confluence and weaponize that knowledge."
"Agreed. But first, we need to understand this future we've landed in. Need to know if we can trust these Free Humans." Stellar looked at the message still broadcasting on the comm, the desperate plea from humans four centuries removed from everything he knew. "And we need to figure out if it's even possible to go back. Because what good is knowing how The Confluence falls if we can't use that information to save our own time?"
Mitchell launched from the command chair, circling the bridge once before landing on Stellar's shoulder. The eagle's talons gripped firmly, and Stellar could feel the bird's heartbeat against his neck. Steady, strong, certain.
"Captain, I'm detecting something else. About three light-years from our current position. It's faint, but it's definitely there. A structure. Massive. And it's broadcasting the same temporal signature as the Architect Protocol."
"Another Sanctuary?" Thorne asked.
"Maybe. Or maybe it's where the Architects went. Where they've been this whole time." Clark looked up, his expression a mixture of excitement and fear. "Captain, we might be about to meet the species that created the technology to move through time itself. The ones who disappeared four hundred years ago, from this timeline's perspective, and might have answers to every question we have."
Stellar settled back into his command chair, Mitchell's weight a comfortable presence on his shoulder. Around him, his bridge crew prepared for the next impossible task. Behind him, refugees from dozens of species tried to process the fact that they'd just jumped centuries into an unknown future. And somewhere ahead, on a New Earth they'd never seen, humans who'd somehow survived The Confluence's tyranny waited for contact.
It was insane. It was impossible. It was a mission that should have ended in failure a dozen times over.
But they were still here. Still fighting. Still refusing to surrender.
"Reeves," Stellar said, "plot a course for that structure. Best speed."
"Yes, Captain. Course plotted."
"Hayes, keep broadcasting our message to New Earth. Let them know we're not just coming home, we're bringing hope from the past."
"Understood, sir."
"And all hands," Stellar's voice filled the ship-wide comm, "this is your captain. I know the past few days have been...difficult. We've committed mutiny, discovered conspiracy, fought battles we couldn't win, and just accidentally time-traveled four hundred and seventy-three years into the future. It's been a lot."
He heard nervous laughter from various sections of the ship.
"But here's what we know. In this timeline, The Confluence fell. Humanity survived. And somewhere in the years between our time and this one, someone figured out how to beat an empire that seemed invincible. Our job now is to find out how they did it, and take that knowledge back to save our own time. It won't be easy. It might not even be possible. But we're going to try. Because that's what humans do. We face impossible odds and we find a way through them."
He paused, choosing his next words carefully.
"We're seventeen people on a small ship, lost in time, cut off from everything we knew. But we're not alone. We have allies from Sanctuary. We have knowledge from the Archive. We have the Architect Protocol. And we have each other. That's going to have to be enough. Because giving up isn't an option. Not while Earth needs us. Not while billions of people are counting on us, even if they don't know it yet."
Another pause.
"So let's find out what happened to The Confluence. Let's meet these Free Humans and learn their story. Let's discover what the Architects know. And then let's go home and save everyone we left behind....Captain Stellar out."
He closed the comm and looked at his grandfather.
"That was a good speech." James said. "Very inspiring. One question though, do you actually have a plan for getting us back to our own time?"
"Not even slightly." Stellar admitted. "But we'll figure it out. We always do."
"That's either inspiring confidence or terrifying optimism. I can't decide which."
"Both." Thorne said from tactical. "Definitely both."
The Pathfinder began moving toward the mysterious structure, accompanied by the thirty other ships that had accidentally joined them in their temporal jump. Behind them, Sanctuary hung in space, its inhabitants slowly coming to terms with their new reality.
And ahead, in the vast unknown of a future they'd never expected to see, answers waited.
The Confluence had fallen.
Humanity had survived.
And somehow, some way, seventeen people from the past were going to learn why, and use that knowledge to save their own timeline.
It was impossible.
But then again, so was everything else they'd accomplished so far.
Mitchell released one final cry. Now ot of warning, not of deception, but of pure, defiant determination.
The bird believed they could do it.
And if a genetically enhanced eagle from humanity's past believed they could save humanity's future?
Then maybe, just maybe, they actually could.
The viewscreen showed stars that wouldn't be in those positions for centuries.
But somewhere among them, hidden in the space between moments, in the gaps between timelines, the answer waited.
And Captain Bub Stellar was going to find it.
No matter how long it took.
Even if it took another four hundred years.