Exile Sun Prologue: “Novus”

I’m proud to debut my first short story set in the world of Exile Sun: Multiplayer Conflict Redefined. In the game, humanity’s first interstellar fleet has spent two hundreds years cut off from contact with Earth, stranded around a distant star. Players command factions of the now-splintered fleet, scheming and battling for dominance in the harsh environment. This story is a prologue set in a time before the game’s events – specifically, the day of the Outbound Fleet’s launch from our solar system.

Novus

July 20, 2369
 
Centercore Station glittered in the morning sun. In its high orbit, the installation buzzed with activity. Hundreds of ships swarmed across its surface in the sky above Arcadia, Mars’ largest city. From merchant vessels to transport frigates, two-person fighters to bristling battleships, every size of ship and variety of crew bustled in final preparations, sharing a single purpose. They had each answered the call, and today was the day. 

Farther into space, seven ships hovered over the ordered chaos, waiting in a crescent formation. Their newly designed hulls gleamed in the golden light, identical except for the names and distinctive nose art painted on the sides. Each measured nearly a mile long. Even at a distance, their massive forms drew every eye. 

James Anders gazed through the window of his office on the Outbound Fleet’s flagship, the TSL Civilization. As the time approached, waves of ships lifted away from Centercore and floated out toward them. Each would be assigned a colony ship to travel with and directed to a designated spot in the caravan. 

Anders tugged absently at the neck of his uniform. The new rank insignias glinted conspicuously on the high collar. 

“Getting close,” a weathered voice said from behind.

He nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Think they’re ready?”

He nodded again, standing straighter with pride as he examined the gathering fleet. His fleet. “Yes, sir.” He started to speak, then hesitated. 

“What’s on your mind?”

Anders turned from the window and eyed the graying Chancellor of the Terran Star League. “Why me, sir?” He glanced down at the uniform. “Six months ago, I was commanding a transport. A small one.”

The Chancellor gave an exasperated smile. “They told me you keep asking that.”

He returned the smile. “Because no one’s given me the real answer. Promotion to Fleet Admiral and command of this mission? I’m only thirty years old, and I’ve only seen combat twice.”

“True.” The Chancellor’s head cocked to the side. “Let’s put aside the fact that you’ve refused multiple promotions. This mission is different – you’re not going into combat. We need young people with new ideas to lead it, not tired military men already set in their ways. After all, you’re quite literally the future.”

Anders sat at his desk and leaned forward to fix the Chancellor with a steel gray stare. The old politician met his eyes for a moment, then broke away to look at the wall. He cleared his throat. “That’s what the political ad copy says, anyway. Want to hear the real reason?”

“Since we’ll never see each other again, this seems like a good time.” 

The Chancellor pointed to Anders’ left arm. “That’s why.”

Anders instinctively flexed his left arm – or, what used to be his left arm. He looked down at himself. Although designed to look and function like flesh and blood, his left arm, leg, and half of his left torso were now highly advanced prosthetic implants. After six years, he had started to forget that the bionics weren’t real. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t be modest. Enemy raiders board your ship, and you get shot to pieces before driving them off.  Then you capture one that was left behind, treat his wounds, and insist on returning him to his people?” 

“He was just a boy, and misguided,” Anders dismissed. “Anyone would’ve done the same.”

“No, they wouldn’t. But that’s exactly what I’m talking about.” The Chancellor shrugged. “Top brass admired your guts, the other side treated you like some folk hero, and everyone else was amazed you lived.” He pointed at Anders’ chest. “Somehow, your storybook hero routine made them all love you. Trust you. It even ended a war.”

He nodded, finally understanding. “And you need that.”

“The fleet needs it. Sixty-eight years, James.” The Chancellor gestured out the window. “If they’re going to survive the trip, it’ll take more than a soldier to lead them. They need to be inspired. That’s why you.” He flashed a devilish grin. “And at your age, who knows? You may even live long enough to see Novus.”

Anders returned to the window. The last few ships were taking their place behind the colony ships. His attention turned to the immense ring-shaped structure hanging in the distance. When completed, it would form the first half of the Kline-Rolston Hyperspace Construct – what was being affectionately referred to as the Catapult.

“Well, then,” he said. “I guess there’s no time to waste.”

*** *** ***

“Admiral on deck!”

Anders stepped from the lift onto the bridge. He returned a salute to Commander Irina Gagarin and her crew. “Carry on,” he said, and a flurry of activity resumed across the two-hundred-foot command center. A wide oval shape, it perched on the top most level of the colony ship. The holographic wallscreens had been set to exterior display, offering a real-time panoramic view of the entire fleet. Gagarin fell in beside him, and they aimed toward the center where their consoles neighbored each other.

“How do we look?” he asked.

“The ship and crew are ready for your order,” the young, dark-haired woman replied with pride. While the fleet was his to command, the Civilization was hers.

Gagarin took her chair and gripped the armrests, as if forcing herself not to fidget. He could tell she was nervous, but determined not to show it to her crew or superior officer.

Anders didn’t feel like sitting – too many overlapping emotions raced through him. Standing over his console, he called up the current fleet statistics. They were fifteen minutes from the launch window, and everything was on schedule. The past month’s repeated drills appeared to be paying off. Only one task remained before launch. The task he dreaded most.

“Talk to them before you go,” the Chancellor had said as they parted ways. “Remind them who you are. Rouse them, inspire them, and they’ll follow you.”

Inspire them. Okay….

The com was in his hand. He raised it to his lips, thumb hovering over the Transmit button. With a long, deep breath, he willed his nerves to calm. Calmness meant survival – just like when his ship had been attacked. Just like when the blast had ripped through him. Be calm. He pressed the button.

“Good morning.”

Activity ceased on the bridge, every crew member stopping to hear the first official words of their leader. He knew the same would happen on every ship in the fleet. Thousands were listening.

“This is Fleet Admiral James Anders, on the TSL Civilization. Exactly four hundred years ago, Neil Armstrong took his first steps on Earth’s moon. On that day, for the first time, we showed the galaxy that we were here. In the centuries since, we’ve spread across the solar system, growing and learning and challenging our own potential. And today, we take our first steps into the great beyond.” Anders keyed a command on his console, sending a visual to all ships. On the wallscreen, the Andromeda constellation magnified and spun to face them. Zooming in closer, the image resolved around one star system and its planets. “Novus – that’s what we call it. In Latin, it means “new”. A new star, a new frontier.” He pressed another button, and the image changed to a full view of their fleet. “New ships – designed to lead us there, to terraform, to help us create a new home, and most of all….” The image changed to the colossal mechanical ring floating beyond them. “….to build a new way to travel. Each colony ship carries a piece of our companion ring, and irreplaceable technology that will bring it to life. On arrival, we will complete the first interstellar hyperspace bridge in human history. After that, the possibilities….”

Anders trailed off, suddenly disappointed in himself. His gaze had settled on Gagarin’s hand, still clinging white-knuckled to her seat. Ad copy – that’s all this is. You sound like a politician. He shook his head. What am I supposed to say? I don’t do this for a living. All I can say is what I know. What’s true. Turning, he glanced around the bridge at his crew. Dozens of expectant eyes rested on him, likely wondering what he was doing. Commander Gagarin rose halfway out of her chair.

More of the Chancellor’s words returned to him. “They trust you.” With that, he steeled himself and put the com to his lips again. Okay. The truth will have to do.

“Who of you is afraid? Raise your hand.” Anders put one hand in the air and used the other to key a command on his console. The broadcast display changed to a collage of live camera feeds, coming from the bridge of every ship in the fleet. He locked eyes with Gagarin and lifted his eyebrows in expectation. Her hand rose hesitantly, followed by the rest of the crew. In the next tense moments, sheepish and embarrassed hands on every ship slowly lifted into the air.

“Look at that,” Anders said into the com. “Every race, background, and profession from two dozen worlds, the best and brightest from every walk of life, and yet at this moment we all share the same feeling – no one knows what’s out there or what’s going to happen, and we’re afraid.” Determination swelled in his chest. He let it wash through him, permeating his words. “Our feelings unite us. What we are inside unites us. For the next sixty-eight years, we’ll share our lives together. We’ll fear, love, struggle, celebrate, and grow old together. We’ll support each other and reach out for the stars together. That is what it means to be human – to face our fears and fly right through them. To take chances and break barriers and achieve the impossible.” He examined the images on screen, etching the faces into his memory. “I’m already proud of you. All of you.”

The countdown clock chimed, signaling five minutes until launch window. Anders switched the nearest wallscreen panel to exterior view, allowing the sparkling field of stars to fill his vision. “In five minutes, we begin. Our future is out there waiting for us. Let’s go get it. Anders out.”

He released the com button.

A cheer exploded from the crew of his bridge, and every bridge displayed on their screens. Anders allowed himself to drink in the elation, the sense of possibility that permeated the air. He stored it away in his heart. Whatever happened tomorrow or the next day or thirty years from now, he wanted to remember this moment.

“Commander,” he said, turning to Gagarin. “Take us home.”

I hope you enjoyed this first glimpse into the world of Exile Sun! Upcoming stories will highlight different points in the game world’s timeline. Some will occur during the journey to Novus, and others will be concurrent with the events of the game. If this project grabs your interest, head over to Kickstarter and lend your support. There’s still time left to meet the overfunding goal!

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/gameknightgames/exile-sun-multiplayer-conflict-redefined