It is a spectacle of which an infinitesimally small few ever get to witness and truly experience. In fact, most people only ever hear of it through various forms of media, resulting in a more mythical reputation that questions its real life legitimacy. This unappreciatively comes in spite of its vital and central role to the industry of modern cosmic transit.

  The title “Gateyard” is innocuously humble in comparison to the reality that lay before their eyes. Once pulled into view, they were greeted with a black hole orders of magnitude larger than even the biggest stars that many of them had ever seen. It was in fact strikingly disorienting to witness for the first time; if not for its interaction with other matter, radiation, and the overwhelming presence of artificial structures, it would have been nearly invisible to the naked eye.

  An accretion disk of bright, hot plasma surrounded the black hole, warped in such a way that all sides of it were simultaneously visible no matter the angle viewed from it. The light of stars immediately surrounding the cosmic phenomenon are similarly distorted to such a degree, bending and contorting themselves in a number of unnatural ways.

  But perhaps the most impressively unnatural of all is that of the sheer magnitude of artificial structures that made up Gateyard Olmona. Now and then, a star might be transported to the black hole, feeding the enormous cosmic engine for their needs. Different mechanisms larger than many planets put together would now and then either contain and reflect the black hole’s energy back in towards itself, or release the energy for use elsewhere. Arrays upon arrays of gigantic gateways, countless shining rings in the starry void either lay under construction or preparation to be transported elsewhere across the cosmos. Some lay fully completed, while others shipped in parts to be put together thereafter.

  Streaks and beams of energy from the black hole would be transferred through other gateways present at Olmona, presenting a fragile balance upon a delicate web of interlocking systems, of which the Coalition’s gargantuan energy demands in that sector depended upon.

  Viewing the spectacle from within the ships’ confines, Vertan and the other Ulminhans each stared upon it with speechless awe as they descended down to a large artificial planet below, Olmona’s head of operations.

  The only person not surprised by the sight was Lym, who has seen plenty in her time across innumerable universes.

  Together, the convoy continues on its way down to the lone planet, entering its artificially generated atmosphere, and lands in a designated lot amongst many others. Lym’s gunship remains visually unseen even as Lym and Vertan step out of the vessel.

  *****

  “If you wish to return home safely, heed my orders now and carefully.”

  The Ulminhan private replayed Admiral Gahn’s words and message sent out once again in his head.

  So, that was the next stage of his plan, then. To abandon the previous one. Just now before landing, the rest of them had all been instructed to allow Vertan Zviedal to carry out the negotiations he had originally intended, but when the time came, they would all pull back so that he and Lym would be taken into Coalition custody. Of course, Vertan and Lym remain oblivious to this fact.

  The man found himself personally troubled. A discouragingly large amount, perhaps even a majority, are relieved hearing the sound of this. Many talked about finally going home. Many more shared the sentiment that Vertan and Lym had cost them so much, had cost them everything, how they didn’t sign up for any of this. They are very vocal about it too, and their thoughts remain popularly circulated amongst the cohort.

  In all, it seemed that everyone was glad that they could finally be rid of the two.

  But he, and like many others similar to him, didn’t agree with such sentiment. He, like many others, remained quiet about it, fearful that he would be punished or otherwise ousted for it. As a result, there’s not a strong voice in opposition, and it felt like they were only stewing about it in secret. He doesn’t know very many people he can talk to about it, especially if their highest ranking officer has given them such an order. He has looked up to Gahn as a role model since his first day, and followed every order unquestionably.

  Yet, his time and experience on this particular mission has made him begin to feel otherwise. It felt to him that they were all stuck in a very difficult predicament together, one in which they ought to cooperate through. And yet the reality turned out to be that they cannot handle being tested; rather, the overarching sentiment was to abandon ship and their original obligations once it got too tough.

  Perhaps that was the difference, then. He felt the obligation and duty where they no longer do. Theirs extended as much as needing to fulfill their mission’s immediate parameters demanded of them, which if no longer required, is no longer their business. But having witnessed what they’ve all seen by now, it all felt much bigger to him. It was no longer of his occupation’s obligation, but of his morals’ obligation.

  Vertan and Lym represent an unflinching vessel of truth that he and many others would never otherwise realize, and to actively prevent their success and survival so that they can all retreat back into darkness would be unfathomably reprehensible. He felt that they must survive and carry on their word, that they must be necessary and relevant to the current changing times, that the times are indicative of a very necessary change away from the eternal rot afflicting the decaying stars.

  But, what can he do?

  He too, fears that somehow maybe, he was an overwhelming minority in his opinion. Would warning Vertan and Lym be the right decision? There has to be a reason why so many of those surrounding him think of this the way they do, right? Perhaps all of the protestors, demonstrators, and such are all crazy, radical extremists to begin with? Is he being indoctrinated and brainwashed by their agendas? How would he know?

  What if they turn out to be right, and he just destroyed the outlook on his life for treason?

  And so, he remained quiet about the matter. He watched as the rest of them congregated more and more together, sharing the bond over their shared struggle. Meanwhile, he and the others like him, if they are like him at all, kept silent out of a sense of self preservation.

  *****

  “Hello, welcome in,” says the gateyard manager, another innocuously humble title for a man of his position. “You came just in time for our appointment. Please, have a seat.”

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  Obliging, Vertan walks through the manager’s luxurious office. It is much larger, spacious, and magnificent than the shipyard manager’s office back in World Pliua; here on Olmona, it seemed to be big, big business. It felt more akin to the president’s office back home in Ulminh.

  “Thank you for the hospitality, Mr. Gornovan,” replies Vertan as he gives the man on the other side of the table a firm handshake.

  “So!” exclaims Gornovan. “Let’s not waste any more of your time. I take it you have quite a special request, is that correct?”

  “That’s right, sir,” replies Vertan.

  “Let’s see the notes and details of what we have here. Here, you’ve requested, in your words, a custom-built gateway, or modified use of a preexisting one, in order to access a previously unvisited world, did I get that right?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “And here, you’ve explicitly stated that the details on how to access said world will not be communicated through comms, but instead will be done here in person.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Tell me, Mr. Hilgo, can you understand the position of which I’m in? Not only is it difficult to commission a functioning gateway that is up to code and standard in your preferred timespan, but can’t you see that we generally don’t do something like this at all?”

  “Elaborate?”

  “For us to access your desired ‘previously unvisited’ planet, we would first need to go through a lot of bureaucracy and red tape just to get approval, which can take months to over a standard year before we begin constructing your gateway. Otherwise, anything unauthorized by the government can be anyone with any number of reasons, and as such, we have very thorough protections over this. I’m not calling you a suspicious individual, but you do understand what I’m trying to say, right?”

  “I do; I like to consider myself well-prepared, so allow me to present to you my side.”

  Vertan produces his identification, now modified, to Gornovan.

  “Hm, Hilgo Yurigan,” Gornovan mutters as he peers in to read the badge. “Oh! I see. Why, thank you for your service. I couldn’t imagine being in the Expeditions, let alone be so decorated. I can see why you’re making such an ask out of me.”

  “That is correct,” replies Vertan. “Although I have since retired, I am still quite active especially amongst government and research affairs. We have great reason to believe that the planet we are attempting to access holds invaluable resources, and as such is of great strategic importance. It is a bit of an urgent matter for the sake of maintaining our peace and security, and I apologize if the confidential nature of most of these details have caused me to hold out on you.”

  “Don’t sweat it!” replies Gornovan. “I completely understand now.”

  “I appreciate your understanding, Mr. Gornovan,” replies Vertan.

  “Aw hey, tell you what,” says Gornovan as he leans in, his position more casual now. “Don’t sweat with the formalities. Maybe you’re a more polite guy, I don’t know. But you’re one of us! Relax, I’ll get it to you, this whole thing can even be under the table if you would like it to be. I hate having to do paperwork, anyway.”

  “Ah, I got you,” Vertan chuckles nervously. Was that too easy?

  “So within your desired time frame,” continues Gornovan as he looks through his desktop holodisplay, appearing mirrored to Vertan on the other side of the table. “Yeah, I can get one up soon, within a few hours, actually. I can do it faster, since you offered me such a nice bonus on top of that, too. Don’t tell anyone we can be so quick about it though, demand keeps those prices up for us!”

  “Well alright, then, thank you for your time!” exclaims Vertan. “Is there anything else you need from me?”

  “Nope!” replies Gornovan. “Well, you didn’t request the construction of another gateway on the other end. That would make it a one-way trip, but I assume that was just an oversight.”

  “Ah yeah, we can figure that out later,” replies Vertan. “Let’s just focus on getting there for now.”

  “You got it, boss!” smiles Gornovan as he returns the handshake. “Good doing business with you! We’ll notify you when we’re ready.”

  Sitting back down in his seat, Gornovan watches Vertan get up and begin to leave the long room.

  Curious of his background, Gornovan looked back to his open window on “Hilgo Yurigan”, to which in the moment, he was surprised to find that few, if any results, showed up. Accessing more confidential government files, he once more searched up for “Hilgo Yurigan”, only to find minimal results.

  Gornovan frowns at the profile pulled up in front of him. “Hilgo Yurigan” was indeed in the Expeditions, but he was not so handsomely decorated. Certain details of his identification didn’t match. Hell, it didn’t even look like him. But then, these are far from the most glaring inconsistency.

  “Hilgo Yurigan” is deceased.

  As Gornovan looked up at what should be a deceased man reaching his door, something caught his eye. Under a certain section containing details, the man seemed to have some kind of relationship or friendship with an individual named “Vertan Zviedal”.

  The Vertan Zviedal?

  Clicking on the name to open that profile, it was indeed him. Zviedal. The legendary and traitorous terrorist behind the chaos across the many worlds right now. The sole survivor of an Abomination that wiped out the entirety of Thoma. That’s his face, it was him, he’s right in front of him!

  That’s him, right?

  “Hey, wait a minute!” he found himself exclaiming as the realization slowly set in.

  Vertan whirls around, a completely different character than the person he was mere moments ago.

  “It’s you!” Gornovan exclaims again as he attempts to draw a gun he kept underneath his table. “Zviedal—!”

  But before Gornovan could even fire, suddenly, his hand was gone. For a moment, he couldn’t even register what had just happened before the shock set in that he couldn’t clutch what is no longer there. The man let out a hysteric scream as blood continued dripping to the floor, bits of his hand and fingers laying strewn across the ground and workspace.

  As Vertan walked back towards Gornovan’s direction, he kept his firearm pointed at the nervous man. Shaking and panting, Gornovan attempted to pick up his dropped gun from the floor.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Vertan says coldly. In response, Gornovan nervously drops the gun back down to the floor again, holding up his hand and whatever remains of his other one.

  With his foot, he repeatedly pressed down on a hidden panel, meant to notify security to come in. Where are they?

  “Please!” Gornovan cried despairingly. “Please, please, why? Why? You’re him! By the cosmos I’ll do whatever you want! Please don’t kill me!”

  “This could have gone far more diplomatically,” says Vertan, now with the barrel pressed against the man’s forehead. “Now that we are at this point, listen to me carefully.”

  “They’ll hear us,” says Gornovan, trying to regain some courage. “My guards will know, the cameras see you, every securosensor is tracking you! I’ll have the message sent out—!”

  “No they won’t,” responds Vertan flatly. “You want to try pressing that pedal again?”

  Gornovan grows pale and clammy with sweat at the statement.

  “I like to consider myself well-prepared,” says Vertan. “I had that taken care of thirty minutes before my arrival.”