From aboard their helicopter, John, Sam, and Admiral Valentine watched the live holo footage of their newest invaders leaking into their solar system.

  A fleet of vessels poured through the Meridian Gate in silent colossal waves. Their hulls were matte sapphire blue and gilded with ornate golden filigree which flowed like script across their hulls with intentional and intelligent design and spoke to their power. They were beautiful ships as all tyrants designed—grand, composed, and overwhelming. Each one dwarfed anything humanity ever built. They came in formation: deliberate, imperial, and endless.

  Sam’s breath hitched. “Hyperion?”

  John leaned closer. He whispered. “That’s something else.”

  Valentine said nothing. His fingers dug into the edges of his seat. One of the ships turned slightly and revealed a crest—an outstretched golden eagle with two heads. Valentine connected a private comms link with President Bridges. Once the connection was established, he squinted and said, “I’m sorry, Mr. President. Are you certain?” After a brief pause, Valentine said, “Understood, sir.”

  “Mark?” Sam said.

  Valentine leaned in so the pilots could hear. “Did you get the new coordinates?”

  The lead pilot raised his thumb up. The helicopter banked hard, adjusting course.

  “What’s the plan?” John said. “How do we engage?”

  “We don’t engage,” Valentine said. “We’re heading to Wyoming.”

  “What then?” John said.

  “They’re figuring that out,” Valentine said.

  After four hours of flying toward Wyoming, Mark received another communication. He tapped on the pilot’s shoulder who inputted the new navigation coordinates.

  “I’m not going to believe this until I see it, but President Bridges says that these aliens are here to help us. They haven’t fired upon us yet, so I guess that’s something. The President says he spoke to one of them. He says they’re mostly human.”

  Sam’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?”

  “Humans?” John said. “How can that be?”

  “This is all a big mess,” Valentine said. “I don’t know any more than you do. Our new orders are to negotiate with them in Wyoming. We should be there soon.”

  “Should we just pray that things work out?” John said.

  “That's all we can do,” Valentine said.

  John shoved himself back in his seat. He wasn’t going to trust these new aliens for a second until they gave him a reason. Just because they didn’t immediately begin orbitally bombarding Earth didn’t mean they were friendly. John didn’t trust them. For the entire helicopter ride to Wyoming, John and Samantha studied their armada’s movements. If they were preparing an attack, John would have expected them to break their larger armada into smaller attack forces and siege units. He believed they would at least break their forces in half and send a fleet toward Pluto and the Kuiper Belt colonies. But they didn’t do any of that. They remained a single solitary imposing force. Their fleet flew in a wide orbit around the Earth, which didn’t sit well with John. If they were planning an invasion, there wasn’t anything their combined UEF forces could do to stop them. John supposed their only real hope at that point was diplomatic negotiation.

  “John. Sam. The President has ordered you both to negotiate on behalf of humanity.”

  “Great…” John said. He thought back to Thariel’s sword slamming down into President Carthage.

  “It’s an honor,” Sam said. “But what if things go wrong?”

  “We get you out of there,” Valentine said.

  The helicopter struts slammed into the soil.

  The cabin rattled with a jolt that vibrated through John’s spine. Dust churned in cyclonic gusts and battered the temporary orange barricades that shimmered beyond the haze. Squadrons of helicopters flew in formation overhead. Jets raced by. The snapping cold air blew into John who took the brunt of the winds head on as he and Samantha stepped out onto the grass.

  John was met with the scent of scorched grass and jet fuel. His heart grew faster with every tremor as matte blue transport ships touched down. These weren’t ordinary transports like the UEF which held anywhere from fifty to one hundred soldiers; when the landing ramps extended, five thousand troopers in impressive cold blue and black combat armor held rifles of a technology he’d never seen and spilled out into neat block formations.

  Around them the site pulsed with military choreography—UEF marines fell into formation opposite the alien forces. Their combat armor gleamed, but it felt lighter and weaker compared to these other-wordly troopers who stood with an unspoken power of a galactic-wide empire.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Most were human, which really threw him off. He supposed he should be thankful for some small sign of familiarity. There were clearly figures in the alien army who were not human, the only familiar thing about them was their number of arms and legs. Some of the oddballs were ugly as sin.

  Then there were the others. They were the ones who looked human at first, until Sam noticed the stitching in their skin and pointed it out to John. Samantha told him these guys were called Cortari Shardhosts or Cortari for short. There were just as many Cortari as humans. Their skin was different. It was too smooth in some places and too ruptured in others. Their limbs bore tight stitching of flesh pulled across something deeper. Their eyes were some milky color, not clear. They reminded John of zombies; albeit, they were more animated.

  A Cortari diplomat wore robes the color of deep-sea blue laced with golden veins that shimmered as he moved. His robe’s cut was regal and ceremonial but it couldn’t soften the reality of what he was, a walking corpse. Ten guards flanked him like statues. He exchanged whispers with six robed aides, most of them humans.

  “I can do most of the talking,” Sam said. “Are you ready?”

  “I’d prefer it that way.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “What’s the plan?”

  “The plan is to save our asses. If things go south, get me out of there.”

  “I’ll try. Let’s get this over with.”

  John’s jaw tightened. The weight of expectation pressed down on him as Samantha moved beside him. Her eyes scanned the perimeter. Beyond the fence, journalistic drones hovered and broadcasted every moment. That made John’s heart beat faster. He straightened his posture and fixed his facial expression which others described as ‘always angry.’ Far above, a battleship blotted out part of the sky; it was a monstrous thing of blue alloy and baroque gold filigree. It loomed over them providing a psychological tactic that definitely worked. John noticed several soldier’s faces on the perimeter whose eyes were filled with fear. It was psyops. The ships were a reminder that Earth’s humanity wasn’t on top of the food chain. In fact, it seemed to be on the very bottom of it.

  John walked, keeping his spine straight. He kept his chin level. On the outside he maintained the poised stature of a veteran officer. Inwardly, a storm churned inside of him. Images flashed inside his mind like gripping his sidearm and pumping the Cortari representative with bullets. He would do it if he had to. The whole thing reminded him of British colonization. Is that what they were doing? Were they offering us handshakes and trade so they could spread some deadly disease later and kill us all and claim our land?

  John remained silent beside Sam.

  He waited.

  She waited, too.

  In those moments of mutual stillness, wind tugged at John’s jacket. John heard the flapping of UEF flags which flew beyond the fenceline by the helicopters. The other team’s flags flew by their troop transports, but, of course, their flags flew from giant poles which rose up from the tops of their ships and flew proudly in the wind, four times the size of any flags the UEF brought with them. They were all adorned with double headed golden eagles.

  The Cortari Ambassador stepped up to them.

  “Greetings. My name is Ambassador Vel’Sem. I speak on behalf of the Galactic Council who sent me here. Judging by the looks on your faces I can say you are reasonably confused. I want to say that I’m sorry and feel deeply for your losses…what the Hyperions did is unforgivable.”

  Sam’s jaw dropped. “You know about the Hyperion attack?”

  “Yes,” Vel'Sem said. “We’ve been watching Earth for thousands of years.”

  “If that’s true,” John said, “why didn’t you help us?”

  Sam placed a hand on his arm.

  He took deep breaths and shut up.

  The Ambassador looked down solemnly, then back up at Sam.

  “I’m sorry,” Sam said. “My name is Ambassador Samantha Crowe and this is Commander John Drayton who represents the UEF military. Please excuse our introduction. We didn’t know if we could trust you and we’re still having trouble after the Hyperions attacked us. They only just left. Your entrance is sudden and alarming.”

  Vel’Sem nodded. “We are here to help you rebuild from the terrorist attack perpetuated by the Hyperions. We wish that we could have arrived sooner. The Galactic Council wishes to discuss your entrance into the Dependency, an intergalactic alliance of species. We’re ready to accept you, should you be willing. We give you a choice presented to all advanced nations mature enough to reach their Meridian Gate and activate it. You passed the test.”

  “I’m sorry,” John said. “I’m having trouble believing this is real.”

  “You,” Vel'Sem said, suddenly recognizing him. “You’re the human of Earth who activated the Meridian Gate. You’re the reason why we’ve come to help you. Your entire civilization should be proud of your effort. What is your name?”

  “My name is Commander John Drayton.”

  “I am pleased to meet a distinguished hero of humanity.”

  John sighed. Maybe this was a chance to gain a friend. He would try not to waste it and trust if he could. But his patience had limits.

  He extended his hand. “Welcome to Earth.”

  Vel’Sem’s grip was firm and his skin was cold.

  “Manners in the face of disaster,” Vel'Sem said. “One of humanity’s greatest virtues. And there are many more I could list. We hope to discuss matters of great importance between the Humans of Earth and the Dependency—if proper arrangements can be made then you may qualify to receive additional aid from the Cortari. We can help you rebuild and advance Earth’s technology and defensive capabilities. Is there somewhere we can speak that is more…formal?”

  “So you will help us?” John asked.

  “Concessions should be made…but it’s looking that way. The Galactic Council has finally turned a good eye toward your corner of the galaxy.”

  “How big is the civilized galactic community? The Dependency, you called it?” Sam said, with a sparkle in her eye.

  “The Dependency is massive with ninety-eight Quantum Gate connected solar systems. That doesn’t count the thousands of exo-planets and disconnected systems along the frontier.”

  “Quantum Gates?” Sam asked.

  “The same as your Meridian Gate,” Vel’Sem said. “Don’t worry about the terminology. The important thing is that we’re here to help you.”

  “What is all of this going to cost us?” John asked.

  “Rebuilding is never free, Commander.”