"Greetings," said the Sphere's pilot. Its voice was slow and austere. "Please lower your killing devices. This is a non-hostile engagement."
"Unknown spacecraft," said the Helmswoman, "you have intruded our fleet airspace. Identify yourself immediately or we will intercept."
She kept her finger on the trigger, eager to expend millions of rounds of kinetic projectiles. As a naval officer, she was trained to fire the moment she sensed danger.
"I have many names," answered the pilot, "so how you refer to me is of wholly no importance. I have learned about your endeavor through the Hadrian historical records. I know the way to your homeworld and I have come to lead you there."
Eyebrows rose and mouths hung agape, as people traded their faces. Reeling in disbelief, they questioned their very own eyes and ears. This anonymous, altruistic individual that came from nowhere; can he or she be trusted? After a thousand years of enslavement, the Rhaetians were in no mood for further disappointment.
"Why should I believe you?" asked the Helmswoman.
"Because we both are burdened. You, by the fate of your people. And I, personal redemption. The galaxy may be broad, but it has united us for this very reason."
The Helmswoman assessed the situation. Except for this time, she realized there was nothing else left to assess. The choice was clear. Her heart had to open. She lowered her autocannons. "All captains, be ready to change course. We will follow the unidentified sphere."
People around her cheered with hands in the air. The fleetwide channel was filled with joy. The prophecy had come true. All hail the savior!
The fleet followed the Sphere and went through one of the black holes. By the time they returned to the observable spatial dimension, the Rhaetian world was laid out before them.
A binary star system with fifteen planets. All of them had been inhabited at one point or another by their nomadic ancestors. Illyria was the lushest of them all, filled with river valleys and snow-capped mountains. It was the birthplace of the Rhaetian civilization, the source of their yearning and generations of imagination.
Upon sighting their homeworld, the Rhaetian ships switched to fusion propulsion. Once they set foot on Illyrian soil, the construction of Crina Gora, their first city, quickly went into motion. Their future was finally here. The memories of Hadrian enslavement would soon fade into the cool breeze.
The Helmswoman stood atop a hill. She dug a little hole and buried the admiral's badge in it. That way, their love would become one with the Illyrian scenery. Above her, the Sphere rose into the blue atmosphere. It sent her regards through radio and garbled something about its third act of penitence.
Tizaa rolled up her sleeves, ready to head back to the Crina Gora construction site. A new beginning had dawned upon her, and there was work to be done.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
The Songs of Polaris
Short StoryOnce upon a time, an advanced civilization resided in the Polaris system. Its people were immortal and capable of crossing dimensions. But pride goes before a fall; they revolted against their divine creator and were massacred. The sole survivor, kn...
