Casper thought quietly to himself, before nodding, not that Nat could see it. He hadn't heard of Horizon before, other than in passing, though he believed they dealt with nuclear technologies. Bad news, in Casper's opinion. "Very well. Your request is accepted. I believe we'll both need some time to make a few quick arrangements? We can talk over some more of the specifics later."

Swehteir would be playing on their ground, Casper thought to himself. Sure, they'd expect at least the basics to greet them, a few bugs and whatnot, men in suits following them, but the UCS held the advantage while they were playing on their territory. He just hoped that Swehteir would be playing the game as they expected them too. Still, the UCS would have numbers on their side of nothing else. Swehteir would only have a limited number of men allowed on UCS territory, plus whatever else they could sneak by. They'd be capable of investigating a number of things at once. Perhaps this corporation, Horizon, would be a good starting point. Casper began writing a checklist of things to investigate.

"If that's all you have to say for now, I think I'll be getting back to work."

"Great. My men are already on their way." Thurmond hung up and called for Claudia. "Planes gone?"

"Yup. Straight to the capital, right?"

"Yeah. Didn't give the president any time to ask where they'd be landing, but he'll get a ring soon enough. Get anything else done?"

"Just the usual."

"Good. Bar?"

"Absolutely, sir."

Nat grabbed his coat from the hook and followed Claudia out. They talked and joked, but for the first few minutes, his mind was elsewhere. Make your phone calls, Casper. We'll see who comes out of this with more.

Solar System I
The star station travelled the system, albeit rather slowly due to its immense size as it contained the remnants of the Varn race, now a meagre thousand bodies, in the epitome of excess luxury and natural beauty. It was a paradise; a wonder of modern technology which was funded by the profits of the corporation, sustained by their oppressed races. It was a symbol of their control; so immense and so imposing that it inspired fear in the denizens of the world below. It was even capable of keeping the oppressed races in order, even despite the lack of presence from the Varnians themselves. Within that station lay the epicentre of the Varn Corporation and from that station so was their influence extended.
Within the station was a chamber of unimaginable proportions, with ceilings that seemed to have no end and walls covered with thousands of holo-screens that displayed a ceaseless stream of production and consumption data. The profit trends weren’t looking good however, there was an ever decreasing flow of resources to the mega factories whose production capacity were constantly growing. They’d left so many planets, asteroids and solar systems stripped bare of their resources yet the ever growing demand simple meant they moved on from system to system. In truth there was one system where sustainable business was practiced in was in Solar System I, their home system which had managed a precarious balance between urbanisation and ecology. Yet that balance would be threatened if the Corporation weren’t capable of finding new revenue streams or new resources to drive their costs down.
Thus much of their future rested on the outcome of the Farsearchers and what they could manage to find in their travels; if any came back that was.

Unknown Space

The Farsearcher winked into existence into a solar system which had no stored data entries, no record of even existing in the Varn databanks. The powerful on-board computer whizzed into action as a number of scanners, plotters and sensors were deployed in order to learn about the solar system it had landed in. It acted with the inhuman efficiency of a robot as no time was wasted nor extra effort expended in order to follow its coded protocol. It would search the solar system, map out the resources, determine the existence of any species and finally chart its way home, in order to record all the data it had discovered for the Varn Corporation.

The scanners picked up a number of planetary bodies and asteroids, along with a decent resource pool but there was a definitive positive readings for signs of sentient life, something which had a very cautious protocol established. It prepared an automated message which would be broadcasted in every known language, in hope that the language of these people had a common language or even a common root between the two. A communications analysis machine switched on as this took place in order to assist the ship’s computer with broadcasting the message and interpreting any response. It was more uncommon than common to not find a language root even when traversing the farthest reaches of the stars due to population shifts along with the tendency of visiting advanced beings to be seen as gods.
The ship made a point of broadcasting its existence and location to the native population, to create the appearance of peaceful intentions and the notable absence of weapons on the ship should somewhat help this impression stick. They were sleek, slender ships that contained a notable bulge around the back where the engines were located and it became apparent these ships were built for speed. There was a quiet beep as the population scanner finished its scan of the planetary body and began storing the key data of the denizens. Inorganic, sentient and technologically advanced to a similar level as the Varn Corporation, a credible threat in terms of military technology. The ship began to also transmit the multi-linguistic message out in an open waveform, clearly intending for it to be picked up by a nearby ship.

Elsewhere in another solar system, another Farsearcher was going through the same process only it turned back the results of an advanced, unknown sentient type consisting of organic and inorganic parts along with another credible threat to the Varn Corporation. The key for the executives, so blissfully unaware of the two nations their Farsearchers had uncovered, was to hope that they’d programmed their machines right in order to keep things coardial.

Year 4412, eight years before first contact

Riemann stands a couple hundred meters from the rocket, sunglasses shielding his eyes from the bright glare of the SRBs. The sound of it this close is deafening.

He turns away, pocketing his glasses--the rocket rising behind him through the cool night air of the UCS's southern coastline--and jogs back to mission control. He is sixty now but still vigorous, with at least another decade or two left in him. But his friends were dying--Fermi had cancer; Bessel had been killed by a Taiben raid in the northern Corporate Badlands; Ulam killed himself and another thirty other scientists in a failed nuclear test. Neumann had been clinically dead for almost a decade now. Soon it would only be him and Reines--and Ingle, who, at ninety-five looked as though he would outlive them all. And the next generation--raised in a time of peace and prosperity--would be poor replacements.

Inside, mission control is an open multi-tiered series of lofts and platforms, like a stack of step pyramids. The past century of advancements in computer science is represented, from hand-cranked analog cams to new silicon computers from Sanctus. A vast screen dominates the room, stretching from one wall to the other. It oscillates between cameras on the ground and in space, focusing on the rocket as it ascends in the twilight, just keeping pace with the terminator.

Riemann's part in this launch ended a month and a half ago. He's here only as an observer. He climbs a staircase leading up to the balcony and takes a seat next to what remains of his oldest friend: John von Neumann.

Neumann had been dead for almost a decade--a decade ago, he had spent half a year aboard a poorly shielded space station, and returned a cripple, muscles degenerated and suffering from total organ failure. And yet here sits, watching the screen, silent but for his rasping breath and the mechanized exhale of his artificial lungs, the thump of his robotic heart.

On the viewscreen, they can see the ship emerging from the atmosphere, the launch stage firing its engines before jettisoning its payload and falling back to Asphodel. "It's... beautiful..." Neumann says, every word a gasp.

"The first of three." Riemann says, forcing a smile.

"I... won't live... to see the others..." he wheezes, confirming what Riemann had suspected. "I couldn't... have hoped... for a better... legacy." Neumann reaches down with a decrepit arm, and switches off his life support. "A better... funeral pyre..."

Riemann moves to stop him, to switch the machines back on, but that thin, frail, decrepit arm grabs his and holds it with paralyzing strength. "I die... today... in triumph or... tomorrow in... agony..." he turns away from Riemann, eyes back to the screen and his arm goes slack.

Riemann opens his mouth to speak but finds he cannot. On the screen, Neumann ignites its atomic motors. Riemann sits beside his friend and watches him die--and ascend into the heavens, propelled forward by nuclear fire.

There is a lot expected of a Chieftain, especially one so illustrious as the one in command of the First Expeditionary Fleet. The lives of nearly five hundred thousand Elok depend on her orders, each life capable of being extinguished in a moment's notice. For space is cruel and unforgiving: There are rarely do-overs after a mistake, and even then. too many lives are lost in the process. Threats come from many sources - Unstable pulsars, asteroid belts, even first contact, should that ever happen, can be disastrous. And trying to scrape an existence together from the void of infinity means that there can be no disasters. There simply isn't enough people to start again, should you fail.

The Elok, however, had done fairly well. Their population had stopped dropping, and had been stable now for at least two hundred years. Once survival had been (somewhat) assured, the tribal elders of the four great clans began to discuss what exactly should be done next. While the most obvious line of action, the discovery of a new world to call home, was the most sensible, other more profound ideas were shared: Perhaps they should seek assistance, and befriend another race, should they exist? Maybe the Elok's salvation could be found in the searching for the legendary Star Forge, a device that could build stars and planets? The representative for tribe Miluf’Tseu had been particular fond of that one.

After much debate, there was no definitive answer - Such matters must be thoroughly explored and argued, for a poor decision could end the Elok once and for all. One thing they agreed on, though, is that a specialized exploration fleet must be gathered, one that could be sacrificed and lost without too much pain, yet able to handle almost any situation. This was the origin of the Expeditionary Fleet - A smaller version of a Life Ship, a Reactor Ship, three heavy cruisers and some escort frigates and civilian ships. It was tiny, but it was enough. Once the fleet had been fully manned, and four Champions loaded (a precautionary measure). there was one final issue. Who should lead these ships, which carry the precious cargo of the Elok future? Who is fit enough for such an important task?

Warlord Gyuis'Naapto, of course. A seasoned commander, who quelled the Fwinzondi uprising in 1894 A.E. and lead the Mining Flotilla out of a particularly nasty singularity gravity well in1921. She was the last of the warriors, a dying breed in a society where harming your fellows is never acceptable, a hunter with no prey. Gyuis was the best choice for this mission. And she needed this, more than anything. So, she was promoted to Chieftain, and made commander of the First. Now, the hopes of an entire people was in her hands. She would either lead the Elok to a bright tomorrow, or cast them into the darkness of oblivion.

Only time would tell.

---

1935 A.E., unknown space, First Expeditionary Fleet, bridge of the life ship Partis' Wisdom

"Preparing to leave hyperspace. Cycling down Mass Entropy Emitters, Plane Realignment in two minutes. Destination, unknown. What are your orders, Chieftain?"

Gyuis'Naapto stood, unwavering, hands behind her back and in deep contemplation. There had been worrying signs during this jump. While Elok technology today pales in comparison to their forefather's legacy, it was still quite advanced. They could know what was at the other end of jumps, to a degree at least. And what they had detected three days into the jump was indeed unnerving: An unusual abundance of solar radiation, and thousands of various, smallish objects. Most likely, an asteroid field, though there seemed to be no stars. At least, that's what the Chieftain was hoping for. Anything else... She didn't wish to think of what, or who, else.

"We are going into an asteroid field, most likely. Once we are in, I want the shield frigates to be overclocked, and extend the barrier over the civilian ships. The larger ships should be able to handle i- Wait, bring up that data stream, now!" Worriedly, the navigation technician keyed in various commands, and a hologram filled the front of the deck. The chieftain's eyes darted around the board, until she found what she was looking for: The gravitational forces were massive. Her mouth gaped, as realization flooded over her: The First was about to enter the remnants of a supernova, a very dangerous place indeed.

While the scientists on the Research Fleet had anticipated that there was a high amount of such a thing in this region of the galaxy, this particular jump had been deemed safe. Why, then, were they flying into what was essentially a giant cosmic furnace? Was this dead star new? Why was their no warning prior? All these questions would have to wait, as something needed to be done now, lest the Fleet becoming charred hulks in the gravity well of a dead star. "Sound the alarm, notify the rest of the fleet immediately! I need those shield frigates warped in faster, prepare for our arrival!"

"Welcome, Lord Bacab" could be read in the screen,seconds after the hangar doors opened. Bacab, despite his young age, had just been ascended to Lord by the grace of His Majesty King Pykhal XIX, in recognition on his achievements on the floating crops that had been built in the massive oceans and lakes of Pidui. Such high honor came at an expense. He could not be back to Pidui surface for a long, long time, since he had to take comand of the administration of the Itzau, one of the most beautiful Farm ships of the Concái. He took a last gaze to the planet from the hangar view, as his loyal crew disembarqued fro mthe shuttle to the Itzau deck.

After one full year in charge fo the Farm ship, Lord Bacab was happy that he could finally return to Pidui next week because of the 38th birthday of King Pyhkal XIX. The Oracles had predicted a very interesting new Cycle coinciding with the celebration, and thus the celebration would be of special importance. For the occasion, Bacab had selected one of the newest creation of the Garden bioengineers, a new variety of fruit specially suited for the warm, wet climate of Pidui. With this gift, he expected to impress the High Court and distinguish his labour.
Bacab could hardly sleep that night. Something unknown was troubling him. The travel orbit was allright, the energy levels were alright, and the farms were working at full capacity. What was wrong then? Aside from the nerves and the problems in the delegation of responsabiliy, he was feeling tense. With all, Bacab tried to relax himself and meditate calmly.
Suddenly, he recived a call from the Main Command Bridge. "Lord Bacab, we are sorry to disturb you, but your intervention is needed inmediately to deal with this issue, there is a puha anomaly".
He steadily headed for the Command Bridge. There was no doubt. There was a púha, an anomaly that allowed the ship to enter hyperspace jump, opened for a unknown timelapse.These minutes passed blurrily and quickly form him. All Bacab remembers is that he had been dealing with data, numbers and coordinates for a whole hour before the final moment arrived. He knew where this situation was leading to, and he knew he was responsible for the decision that had to be made. The whole crew was staring, silently, yet impatiently at him.
-Mistress Nálha, you will now embark one of our shuttles, and head for Pidui. You will inform of the decisions taken here and their reasons. You will lead the delegation and give our presents to the High Court in my name and in the name of the Itzau. I trust you more than anybody else for this assignment, Nálha - said Bacab slowly - Depart now! Commanders: Prepare púha drive for inminent jump in ten minutes. Shall the jump protocol rituals begin!

The whole room went mute instantly, and the crew bent on their knees, eyes closed, meditatively concentrated, facing the front of the ship. The countdown begun, accompanied by the preaches of its inhabitants:

May the Snake be honored by our hunger.
may Láatzilil, in his piety,
save us from Her hunger.
May the Snake forgive us
May the Snake forgive us.

Jump! - Shouted Bacab when the countdown reached zero.