2300 light-years from Earth
The Supreme Scorpion slowly approaches the neutron star, the collapsed sun at the center of this solar system. The instrumentation relays tons of information about the celestial body, but the ship’s crew is more interested in what’s detected around it: thousands upon thousands of Talos robots.
<That’s a lot of robots> Kari Zel notes. She’s at the helm, with her duplicates filling all other stations while the rest of the Vanguard and Lysia watch the main screen.
<No problem. We beat three hundred of them, remember?> Quantum boasts.
<We beat three. We escaped after that> Torn recalls.
<Yeah, but we could’ve taken the other two hundred and ninety-seven.>
<How are they not seeing us?> Lysia asks.
<We’re emitting a false identification code; they think we’re on the same side. Kari, take us as close as you can, but be careful: I don’t want to lose another ship> Null orders the girl at the helm.
<I can’t land this thing on a star. How are we going to enter the Forge?> Kari questions.
<You’re not. I’m going alone> Noriko answers.
<How? You can’t just walk on a star!> Kari notes.
<I can> Vesta interjects.
<The Talos will open fire the second they see you. Trust me, I’ve got this> Null boasts.
<You can’t survive on a freakin’ star!> Kari insists.
<The Talos can. I hollowed out one of the units you took to Earth, so that I can wear it as an armor.>
<We took three. I will accompany you> Torn volunteers.
<No you won’t. It’s not just an armor, I had to leave stuff inside. To put it bluntly, you’re all too big to fit inside it. The advantages of being the shortest person in the team.>
<You realize this ship doesn’t have a teleporter like the Twin Dragon did, right? Once you’re out there, you’re on your own> Kari warns her.
<No, she’s not. Does that oversized tin can have a radio?> Quantum asks.
The Vulcan Forge
The landing is rough. The armor is essentially indestructible, and advanced gravitational stabilizers ensure that anything inside it can stay in one piece. Still, it’s landing on star by jumping on it.
<You okay in there?> Quantum asks. He’s turned his body into radio waves, his voice translated into sound by the Neural Transmitter implanted in her head.
<Surface gravity 1012 meters per second, temperature 435,000 degrees Celsius.>
<I hate it when you use metric. Are you okay or not?>
<The armor is fine. Give me a second, I’m checking life support. If anything fails I can be vaporized or compressed to the size of an atom.>
<Sure, take your time. It’s not like we’re in the most dangerous place ever or anything.>
<I said I’ve got this. Life support is holding, let’s…oh. Wow.>
Noriko was too concentrated on the system checkup to watch where she landed. She can’t see very well through the armor’s visor, and the light from the star is filtered and dimmed by several orders of magnitude to avoid blinding her. But what she can see is stunning.
<Will you look at that. A palace built upon a star. Can you believe it? It’s…it’s so beautiful…>
Quantum doesn’t know how exactly he can see in his present form; he’s aware of his surroundings mainly by interfacing with the armor. But he can hear Noriko’s voice cracking.
<Are…are you crying?>
<Of course not> Noriko lies, sniffing and going back to work.
<Well what do you know. You really are a romantic at heart.>
<Okay I’ll admit, it’s really magical and awe-inspiring. Let’s go blow it up.>
The Forge is smaller than it seems from the outside. The neutron star is much smaller than Earth, and even if everything is composed of indestructible neutral matter there are architectural limits in such an extreme environment.
Reaching the entrance is a huge undertaking: it’s like walking underwater while dragging a whale.
But once inside, much of the weight suddenly disappears.
<Gravity dampeners. Makes sense: there must be some equipment here that requires as much protection as a human body. Although I didn’t expect Earth gravity.>
<It’s common courtesy.>
The answer doesn’t come from Quantum. It’s a female voice, belonging to a robot designed to look as much as a woman as possible. Platinum skin, ruby eyes and hair literally made of gold. She’s wearing a red evening dress showing prominent cleavage.
<It must be hot inside that horrible contraption, dear, why don’t you make yourself comfortable?>
<Bet you didn’t expect this either.>
<I’m sorry, who…who are you?> Noriko asks.
<Oh, goodness me, I get so few visitors that sometimes I forget my manners. I am Galatea VII, Queen of the Collective. Welcome to the Vulcan Forge. Can I get you anything?>
On orbit above the star
The tension on the bridge of the Supreme Scorpion is high. Vesta is biting her nails, Kari is pacing back and forth, and Lysia is nervously fidgeting with her wings. Torn is fine.
<Why is it taking so long?> Kari complains.
<We don’t have any information on the Forge’s defenses. Null may need time to counteract the security measures> Lysia explains.
<You never infiltrated agents within the Forge? I thought the Mortal Liberation Front was everywhere> Vesta taunts her. They may be allies, but Lysia still belongs to an organization which considers each and every god its sworn enemy.
<It’s not easy to sway robots to the cause> is the alien’s evasive answer.
<We should at least try to contact Noriko. See if she needs any help> Kari suggests, but is immediately chastised by Lysia for doing so:
<If we do anything that gives out our location, the Talos will open fire. Your species lives for decades, I’m sure you can wait a few hours.>
<She might be dead> Torn highlights, once again showcasing his people skills.
<How can you even think that!?> Vesta scolds him.
<She might> Torn repeats, emphasizing the second word, as if it makes it any better.
<No. I still sense her> Lysia declares, eliciting a few stares. Even from Torn.
<What?> Kari asks, voicing the question on everyone’s mind.
<The Infinity Key. Don’t tell me that not only it lets you control Drylon technology, but it can also sense their presence> Vesta says.
<I’m not saying it can’t. But there is still a Drylon device on the star’s surface.>
<Only one?> Torn asks with worried tone.
<Yes, of course it’s only one. Why, should there be more of them?> Lysia asks back.
<We lead his Oracle to another one> Torn reminds her.
<Hey that’s right! What about the Stargate?> Kari asks.
<For the last time, it’s not called Stargate> Lysia repeats once again.
<It does sound like the sort of thing that Hephaestus would love to study. It doesn’t take months to transport something like that from Kythera to here> Vesta thinks out loud.
Suddenly, the Ankh symbol on the alien’s arm glows through the blue skin; Lysia instinctively tries to cover it, but she’s as surprised as everyone else.
<There’s another one approaching> she reveals, just as something comes through the viewscreen.
It happens so fast that nobody, not even Vesta, has enough time to react. Something blue tackles Lysia, and in the blink of an eye drags her away phasing through the floor.
<What the φθcκ was that!?> Kari exclaims.
<Did the Talos find us?> Vesta asks, fearful to face thousands of the merciless robots.
<Whatever it was, the sensors didn’t even register it> a Kari duplicate informs them.
<I’m tracking something flying towards the Forge. Visual only> another duplicate adds, loading a blurry image on the main viewscreen.
It shows Lysia wrestling another Lampyrian, with large blue wings like her but also with sharp metallic talons extending from her hands. Both of them don’t seem affected by the vacuum of space or by the star’s intense heat. Lampyrians are hard to tell apart, but Kari has no doubts:
<That’s Elytra. She phased through the hull with her Ghost Maker.>
<She works for Hephaestus?> Torn asks.
<It doesn’t matter; if she gets back to the Forge, Noriko and Max are as good as dead. Kari, can you open the cargo bay doors without being caught by the Talos?> Vesta asks.
<Too late. We’re being scanned.>
<Retreat, the Talos can’t outrun this ship. I’m going to the Forge to save the guys.>
<But…>
<Just go!!!> Vesta shouts, right as her body is engulfed into flames hot enough to melt through anything. And in fact the hull offers little resistance, while she flies out into space.
Life support immediately kicks in, raising a forcefield to prevent the air from escaping.
Elytra’s Drylon device makes her completely immaterial, untouched by the star’s heat and radiation, but also by its gravity. Vesta instead embraces the attraction, and adding her own speed she’s able to reach the two Lampyrians before they touch the surface.
It’s not easy to grab someone who can’t be touched, and Vesta can’t do anything to stop them.
<You don’t have to do this! We can help your people!> she shouts, unsure if even her powers are enough to be heard in such an extreme environment.
It doesn’t matter. Elytra attacks her, solidifying her claws for a split second. They are made of indestructible neutral matter, sharp enough to make even a goddess bleed. It’s enough of a distraction to make Vesta’s attention slip in a crucial moment: she loses control of her flight, causing her to crash on the surface of the star.
She doesn’t know how long she loses consciousness. Vesta doesn’t need to sleep, so she’s not accustomed with the sensation. It’s the unbearable heat that revives her, forcing her to experience an unfamiliar sensation: burning.
The temperature normally wouldn’t be a problem for her, but the pressure is unlike anything she’s ever felt before. She’s laying on a white-hot surface, perfectly smooth due to the gravity squeezing atoms together. Anything made of ordinary matter would have already been compressed to microscopic size and rendered undistinguishable from the star itself.
But Vesta is more than just matter. Her clothes have been disintegrated. Her flesh has been melted and her muscles are fading away.
But she still clenches her fists, focusing all her will on one goal: surviving.
Inch by inch, slowly, painfully, she rises. The flesh re-grows on the naked back that is carrying the weight of a small planet, and Vesta is ready for anything.
Elytra is there, carried by her blue wings through the neutron wind. She didn’t break a sweat.
She’s more artificial than Vesta thought. Her real eyes have been replaced with cybernetic implants capable to withstand the light of a star a few feet away. The Ghost Maker would make her a formidable adversary, even for a goddess, but she has also chosen the most dangerous arena imaginable. A little over a year ago, the thought of such a battle would have pushed Vesta to admit defeat even before the first round, but now she has only one thing to say:
<Do your worst. I’m not afraid of you.>
Discussion ¬