Beyond The Impossible

Asgard Station, Null Zone

Dmitry Voron has seen his fair share of spaceships and space stations, but the sight of the Star Forge tops everything.

Even well hidden behind an extremely efficient screen that blocks the vast majority of the light that reaches it, the fact that he’s standing in front of an artificial star blows his mind.

<Oh, you’ve made it. Did you get everything?> Noriko Null asks him; he didn’t even notice that she was nearby, distracted by the technology.

<Of course. Why do you need all this stuff? I thought you wanted to meet the rest of the Vanguard within tomorrow.> Dmitry says, handing his luggage to a Nullbot: he just brought some clothes and supplies, but the robots are hauling around several crates.

<I am. But today is going to be a long day. Let me show you.> she says, excitedly leading him deeper into one of the most recently assembled parts of the station.

<You’re uncharacteristically cheerful.> he notes.

<Nothing gives you the same adrenaline rush as killing a god. I’ve come up with something.> she teases, not saying anything more until they reach one of the many labs of the station.

There are many things that catch Dmitry’s eye, but nothing like the centerpiece: a glass tube containing a Lampyrian. She has several tubes connected to her body, but more bizarrely she’s completely missing her head.

<Dmitry, meet Leral.>

<Isn’t she one of the Zenith’s lieutenants? I read your report.>

<She was. Until Torn decapitated her.>

<And you’re… keeping her alive?> Dmitry asks tentatively, inspecting the alien inside the tube; she doesn’t seem to be breathing.

<Oh no, she’s totally dead. But apparently the Drylon device inside her body didn’t notice.>

<How is that possible?> Dmitry wonders, checking the data provided by a nearby panel connected to the glass tube. It shows that Leral’s body still has a pulse, and that oxygen is being pumped directly into her lungs by the machines connected to her body.

<A quirk of Lampyrian physiology. Because of their short lifespan, their nervous system grows at a spectacular rate. Every Drylon device is its own power source, and since it’s physically connected to the host’s nervous system… well, the device is still powering what’s left of it.>

<You mean her body is trying to regrow her head?>

<Kinda. It’s not going to work, mind you, the damage is way too severe. But if you send the right electrical signals, the device interprets them as if they were Leral’s thoughts.>

<Fascinating! This will give us access to Leral’s power of time dilation and compression. And I guess you want my help to create a suitable interface?>

<No, I figured that out three days go. Which, for you, was about seventeen minutes ago.>

<You mean…>

<Time in the Null Zone is currently faster than in the regular universe. Even if Ares shows up tomorrow on Earth, we have all the time we want. Did you bring the Keys of Heaven?>

<Here. I can’t imagine why you asked for my help, though.> Dmitry admits, handing her the two keys: the one that she damaged when she killed Nephthys and the one recovered from Hell.

<The connection between what’s left of Leral and her device isn’t the most stable; you’re more than qualified to monitor her. And besides that…>

She pauses, hesitating to continue and looking aside before finding the courage.

<…it’s not… good… for me to be alone for too long. I need… I don’t really know what I need, but I know that I can’t find it on my own. Does that make any sense?>

<You made abundantly clear that a relationship between us cannot be healthy. But you still need some emotional support, so you’re trying to seek my help without hurting my pride by admitting that you’d find someone else if you had the choice.>

<Wow. Subtlety really isn’t your thing. So… I guess you won’t stay?>

<Noriko, I’m not that much of an a##hole. We are both reasonable adults, we can share the station for a few days.>

<Months.> she corrects him.

<That long, uh? You must have something big in mind. How could I resist?>

 

Border of the Mortal Republic, 34.000 light-years from Earth

The Aphrodite Queendom is a rather unique sector in the Olympian Galaxy: its borders are remarkably peaceful. So it’s unusual to have two armies stationed less than ten light-years away from Labya, Aphrodite’s capital world. But the ships of the Mortal Republic and of the Amazons are not here to guard against the goddess of love: this is also the border of the Apollo sector, and if Ares wants to attack Earth this is the most direct route for him.

The god of war is fully aware of this, of course. He’s on the bridge of his capital ship, sitting on a throne made of skulls from different species (nobody has ever accused Ares of being subtle).

The atmosphere on the bridge is solemn. All officers are in full battle armor and armed to the teeth: even those that are not assigned to personally invade the planet must be ready for battle at all times.

Unlike other gods who choose to command the most powerful ship of their fleet, Ares runs into battle with a regular vessel: a destroyer that is identical to the other five hundred that follow it, surrounded by several thousands of smaller ships.

The only difference is that this is the only ship where women are allowed: specifically, the six scantily clad slaves chained to his throne that serve as his personal concubines. The numerous cuts and bruises on their bodies show that they probably won’t survive a second night with him, but that’s no concern for Ares: the ship’s dungeon holds several dozen replacements.

<Why are we slowing down?> Ares asks, his voice booming on the otherwise silent bridge.

<We are approaching a blockade, My Lord.> the navigator answers.

<A blockade.> the god replies, and by the tone of his voice it’s clear that he loves this development. He stretches out his arm towards the slaves: two women place in his hand a goblet of iron larger than their hands, while a third one pours wine and blood into it.

<We are being hailed, My Lord.>

<Let’s listen. And be ready to fire at my command.> Ares replies, bringing the goblet to his lips: his helmet changes shape to allow him to drink.

The viewscreen shows the image of a woman standing on a captain’s chair.

<This is General Antandre, captain of the Mothership Hippolyta. Under orders of Tecmessa, Queen of the Amazons, I order you to return to your sector immediately. Any action against any ship within the territory of the Mortal Republic will be considered an act of war against Themiscyra.>

Ares doesn’t answer immediately. Instead he finishes his drink, sloppily allowing half of it to spill on his armor. One of the officers gathers all the courage he can to inform him:

<The enemy is ready to fire, My Lord. Ready to engage on your command.>

<The Amazon fleet is vastly superior to yours, Ares. You can’t win this battle.>

<Battle?> Ares repeats, staring at his goblet after it’s been emptied; the helmet closes itself again. The slaves are ready to take it from him, but he keeps it and holds out his hand.

<A squabble with wenches is beneath me. But your skull will look good on my throne.> he says, throwing the goblet against the viewscreen. At nearly the speed of light.

It completely smashes it, as well as the hull behind it, then proceeds towards the Mothership Hippolyta and hits the shield with enough inertia to shake the entire vessel.

Back on the Ares ship, the emergency forcefields prevent explosive decompression from killing everyone inside it. Despite this, his stunt has clearly damaged his own ship.

<Engage the mortals. No one is to be left alive.> Ares orders, standing up from his throne; he’s so tall that the plume of dark flames emitted from his helmet almost touches the ceiling.

<As you command, My Lord. What about the Amazons?>

<I will handle them myself.> the God of War declares before vanishing.

 

Bridge of the Mothership Hippolyta

All alarms are sounding as the space battle begins: the Ares ships scatter to attack their enemies on all fronts, with the Mortal Republic’s fleet trying to attack at a distance to take advantage of its superior speed.

General Antandre is connected directly to her ship’s sensors: her android brain makes much of the crew completely redundant. She’s about to order a full assault on the enemy ships when something appears right behind the captain’s chair: an eight feet tall war god.

<I thought you were warriors.>

The Amazons don’t waste any time: at a moment’s notice Ares is hit by multiple energy blasts, which bounce harmlessly on his armor as half a dozen women assemble around him.

<Show me what you’ve got.> he tells them; the war cry of the Amazons resonates on the bridge, as thrust their lances against him. The energy surrounding the tips would be powerful enough to pierce through anything, but they prove to be completely ineffectual against their armors.

He pushes one of the lances back, impaling one Amazon on her own weapon, and he proceeds to clear the rest of the opposing force by swinging that lance with enough strength to throw the other Amazons into space, after they have crashed through the hull.

With air rushing out of the ship, Antandre tries one last desperate attack: she jumps at Ares holding a laser gun. He grabs her mid-jump, but she’s able to shoot directly into his eye.

He doesn’t even blink: the laser does no damage whatsoever, and Ares breaks her arm like a twig.

She doesn’t give him the satisfaction to scream, deactivating her own pain receptors. Instead she sends a command to the ship’s computer: the self-destruct sequence.

<Killing us won’t save your army.>

<You think I care about them? I only wanted one thing out of this.> he says, grabbing her head with one hand and completely disconnecting it from the rest of her body with one swift motion.

As electricity and biosynthetic fluids leak from her severed neck, the ship explodes.

 

Ares mothership

While the fleet is busy attacking the Mortal Republic ships, the mothership keeps its distance: Ares doesn’t want it to fight on its own, preferring to enjoy the spectacle himself.

The sensors record both the explosion of the Mothership Hippolyta, which is quickly followed by the destruction of several others. No shots are fired, but a sword that weighs as much as a planet pierces through them like nothing.

The brutal destruction of hundreds of the most technically advanced ships of the Olympian Galaxy takes just a few minutes, with the Mortal fleet not daring to get too close.

Ares finally reappears on his own ship. His armor is immaculate: the ship’s explosion has completely evaporated all remains of the Amazon blood… except for the object that he tosses towards one of his slaves.

<Skin it and polish it.> he instructs, sitting back on his throne of skulls.

The slave understands what she’s been handled: the severed head of General Antandre, to be added to the extensive collection.

<My Lord, do you wish to join the battle?> one of the officers asks.

<No. I’ve slaughtered enough maggots for the day, let the soldiers have their fun.>

He turns towards the slaves on his left, who shiver when they recognize the look in his eyes.

<Report to my chambers. I wish to celebrate.> he says, breaking the chains that restrained them to his throne, and then address the ship’s captain.

<Set a course for Earth. All ships not currently engaged in battle can follow us.>

<Yes, My Lord. Should I order the troops to prepare for a land invasion?>

<No, that won’t be necessary. They can take the Mortal Republic once I’m done.> he says, leaning back as he caresses the slave on his right currently holding the skull of the Amazon general.

<I’ll take care of Earth by myself. I need to start working on a new throne.>