The service tunnel was not intended for flying craft, but Morphus deemed it was large enough to navigate. Reconfiguring the shape of the hull to a narrower, lozenge shape, Morphus flew inside, descending five kilometers below the surface of the planet. Eventually, it reached the engineering level, just beyond the main hangar, and set the ship down on the deck.
Morphus stepped outside, and allowed part of its body to iridesce in order to provide light. Its power reserves were still low, and it did not want to deplete what little it had available by providing power to the complex.
A sense of trepidation began to build inside its circuits as it moved towards the sheer metal wall of the complex. It was another emotion it was experimenting with, in order to better understand the humans. However, on this occasion, it served only to encumber its progress. How do humans function while handicapped by so many debilitating chemical reactions? Morphus wondered, as it deactivated the sensation.
Morphus continued on through the engineering level, forcing open doors that had closed in a futile attempt to protect those inside from Goliath. The space appeared pristine and new, but on closer inspection, the scars from the battle with Goliath's seed drones were visible. Had it not been for these, it would have been impossible to tell it had once been inhabited. Yet nine hundred and forty-eight Corporeals had perished in this facility alone. A drop in one of the planet’s six oceans, compared to the total number that had been lost. However, as it walked through the corridors of the Revocater complex, the smaller loss of life that had occurred there was somehow more shocking. Sometimes, numbers did not convey the true scale of things, Morphus realized. This was something else its experiment into human emotions had taught it.
Morphus reached one of the sets of double doors that led onto the upper level balcony of the hangar, and forced them open. A cold, stale breeze washed past its face, blowing back its simulated, shoulder length auburn hair. It then stepped onto the balcony and merged its hand into a control panel to the side. Morphus could already see the Revocater in frequencies beyond the range of its synthetic human eyes. However, it also wanted to see the mighty vessel as the Corporeals saw it.
Testing the power systems, Morphus discovered that the backup cells had enough power for a few minutes of light, before they decayed fully. It would need to feed the shipyard from the reactor inside its own vessel in order to truly spark it back to life. However, for now, Morphus just wanted to catch a glimpse of the vessel. “Seeing is believing,” said Morphus, recalling a human saying from its database.
Relays thumped and suddenly the sleeping ship was bathed in light for the first time in millennia. Morphus rested its hands on the balcony railings and stared out at the Revocater. Or at least what it could see of the enormous vessel, which stretched out into the hangar farther than its eyes could see.
The backup cells had also provided enough power to restart some of the hangar’s computer systems. Morphus worked fast to interrogate the shipyard’s memory, looking to glean as much data as it could on the unique vessel. As a prototype, this Revocater was different to the ship it had piloted, and the hundreds of others like it. The resources of two entire moons had been consumed in order to construct those ships. Now only one remained, and it again fell to Morphus, and this last Revocater, to stop Goliath once more.
Morphus continued its analysis, discovering that most of the differences between the prototype and the final Revocater design were minor. All except for one. Unfortunately, this one major point of difference was significant, and problematic. The prototype Revocater required two operators.
There was a solution, Morphus realized. It was radical, and by no means a guaranteed success, but perhaps it was also fitting. In order to operate the prototype Revocater, Morphus would require the assistance of a human co-pilot.
Morphus was then distracted as more data flowed into its circuits from the shipyard’s memory. However, it regretted interrogating this last chunk of information. It was the security feed of the final moments, before the station’s population was exterminated. Morphus watched as Goliath’s seed drones flooded inside the complex, killing the Corporeals with merciless efficiency. The Revocater hangar had been sealed off before the drones had entered, preserving the secret of the vessel’s existence. In contrast, all that had remained of the faces of the Corporeals had been stored in the shipyard’s memory, and it was now etched into Morphus’ circuits too. So long as it succeeded in defeating Goliath, they would not be forgotten, and their sacrifice would not have been in vain.
The power cells gave up what little energy they had in reserve, and the lights blinked off again. Yet this time, the prototype Revocater was not entirely consumed by darkness. This time, the iridescent human form of Morphus remained. It stood alone, as it had done so long ago, as a single beacon of light, fighting against the encroaching veil of night.
The sleeping warship was not ready to be awoken yet. First, Morphus had to return to the system of human worlds, and find the entity it believed could help it. Ironic… Morphus thought, again dwelling on human constructs. Of all the entities that I could require, the one I need is the one I had already sought to recover…
CHAPTER 6
Chrome One in the Relic Guardian Force Dominion. That had been the designation for the new portal world that had, to the uproar of the other controlling authorities, been claimed by the RGF. Even Hudson found it difficult to accept that the RGF could have done something so audacious. They were tasked with policing the hunts on the portal worlds and were mandated to be independent. He knew better than most how flawed the organization was, but at least it played its role. Now, in one fell swoop, this delicate balance had been completely thrown off.
Of course, it had been Logan Griff who had done the unbalancing. And whenever Logan Griff was involved, Hudson could be certain that Jane Wash was behind the scenes, pulling the strings. Now the theft of the scendar made more sense, Hudson realized. It wasn’t just individual greed that had driven the actions of Griff and Cutler Wendell – though no doubt they would both profit handsomely – but greed on a whole other level. Wash had always loved to lord it over the lower ranks in the RGF. However, Hudson never imagined that the cantankerous, crooked woman would actually try to set herself up as an Empress.
All of this meant that Chrome One was a portal world like no other. Not only because of its unique controlling authority, but because it was possibly the most lawless planet in the system. The police were not about to police themselves, and the CET or MP were powerless to rein in their authority. Not unless they chose to go to war, and Hudson knew that was a decision that neither terran nor Martian would take lightly.
Hudson continued in a low orbit around the moon that circled the enormous gas giant. He had been scanning the ships on the surface, as well as those still approaching the moon, for the last hour. So far, he had not detected the one ship he was looking for – FS-31 Patrol Craft Hawk-1333F.
The absence of Cutler’s ship notwithstanding, there was no shortage of other vessels already at Chrome One. Word of the new portal had travelled fast, and already Hudson had seen twenty other hunters on the surface, with more on the way. And he had never seen so many RGF Patrol Craft before in his life. Ten had greeted him after transitioning through the portal, and there were already two engineering vessels in the process of setting up a checkpoint and patrol station. These were in addition to the twenty that had guarded the portal entrance at Sapphire Alpha. They had been set up to deter forces from the CET and MP from attempting to stake their own claims. Both of these authorities had dispatched powerful capital ships to the portal – a deliberate show of force – but the RGF was waiting. Wash may have been a cold-hearted witch, but she was certainly no fool, Hudson reminded himself.