CHAPTER 9

While the Grey Order of The Concord is plotting how to take down the Yhemlen with a new planet-killer weapon, the vagabond humans below low orbit in the Old World are more unsettled than ever. Rumors are spreading of a new group spearheading an attack on the Grey Order. The Syndicate is a crime ring of vagabonds from internment camps on Earth. They communicate through a sophisticated system of misconduct and symbolic language across districts led by those who control the production and trade of goods to the low orbit station.

The Syndicate is considered the mafia of the Old World by the Greys in power. And they use this power to keep control of the populace on Earth. Grand visual demonstrations of power in low orbit by the Greys spurred a desire for vengeance in the humans. It has been a long time since any lasting rebellion came to fruition, but distractions have caused the Mirai and their Grey Order to mostly ignore the vagabonds. Now, a few brave friends are conspiring to take down the genetically mutated Greys.

Panopticon holding zones are designated throughout the world where vagabonds idle in poverty. Most countries have long been abolished. In their place, people congregate according to class rankings in labor camps that are leftover internment camps. Dilapidated arenas hold unique sporting events where they field games between tribes for money laundering, gambling, and even bartering popular items. Trade within these holding zones is unregulated. From the vagabonds' point of view, the Grey Order has primarily one need up there, and that's food. Despite their ability to artificially process sustenance, menial labor is still necessary to keep costs down. In return for their crop yield farmers are only given a meager allowance.

Recently, the vagabonds and Syndicate have been lacing the food supply chain with drugs and medicinal additives, disguised as spices and herbs. They want to ease the burden of the stratosphere and low orbit, human workers who are in pain. The business model is clever since they have an excuse ready for when they are caught by Greys. And since the Syndicate uses the same trade routes as standard business traders, the Grey Order has underestimated the Syndicate's acumen for capital gain in the black market. Captain Gereon of the Heinemann clan has had his interactions with a few smugglers on Earth to quiet aches and fevers himself.

To the Grey Order's dismay, most of the vagabonds on Earth still cling to their religious mysticism. "It is the time of prophecy," certain vagabonds say. If only the Syndicate could get to the main loading hub orbiting in the upper atmosphere, they would have a way to reach the Grey Order's living spaces. The dirty gypsies in labor camps need to be educated too, but the Mirai have no desire to educate them at these distances. When the Sun moves into Sector 10 it causes a stir every year, starting around January of the western calendar, cosmic web interference can be detected strongly in leftover teleportation communications, like radio transmitters. It's Capricorn, they say.

Across parallel universes, the Yhemlen Overseers' astral stones are expected to transfer their viral radiation to a new set of bodies during the zodiac sign of Capricorn. The Syndicate does not realize they are not the rightful successors to it, but instead humans in another timeline. The Yhemlen's successors are Delphi Corp. scientists, to be exact if they can successfully return home and end the reptilian lineage. The Overseers' cosmic power remains in the consciousness, and bodies, of those with the closest contact to the original hybrid mutants.

The Syndicate's leader Alon Blane has been obsessed with ancient texts to prove that revelations are coming true. He has been able to evade authorities acting as a delivery driver across districts to leave internment camps. It is teleportation modules, he believes, that will rapture the few rebels left and help to take down the Mirai. The teleportation modules will give them the ability to move undetected by the Grey Order and even transport people instead of just crops.

Alon Blane's Jewish heritage is pure, unlike the Mirai that abandoned their humanity in search of perfection. Even he had a chance to join the Grey Order once, but with extermination laws still active, Alon decided to not risk being placed in a ward for experimentation by some fanatical, high-ranking officer. Alon's heritage has left him in the internment camps, probably for good. With the survival of the fittest as a ploy, The Concord rationalizes the misfortune of leftover internment camps still functioning on Earth. Disorganization of various regions around the world would make it difficult to monitor all the world's population if it were not for the help of its privileged Grey aristocracy.

The most immediate step for Alon is changing his image. To him, the Grey Order are the real criminals, not the Syndicate. With that in mind, the Syndicate is not a crime ring, but a plea to save true humanity from destruction. His town lies on the outskirts of an abandoned town, where a mill was its mainstay, but most people want to avoid eroding hazards. Earth's natural reserves have been mostly depleted, but many locations are sure to harbor remnants of crude oil. An abrupt ceasing of drilling activities once interests changed solidified sustainability practices in low orbit stations.

A nearby alcohol dispensary is run by a major figure in vagabond circles. Remold is the name, and his home is a distillery. He has been lacing crops with enough whiskey and rum to alleviate pains for laborers in orbit. This speakeasy operation has been years in the making, though, there's something else. An abandoned oil derrick is lying dormant not far from his property. Alon Blane needs his help to do something that has never been done before.

Ramshackle observatories in several cities of eastern Europe hold a collection of old telescopes. By Concord standards, these are nothing but ancient relics, yet by the ingenuity of a few handymen, they can get its electrical components working in a few. The code-name for a special observatory the Syndicate uses for all its main celestial observations is "Galileo."

If only they had a way to reach low orbit, more stealthily than hiring recruits from the laborers who work in low orbit? Stealing a teleportation apparatus isn't enough knowing that the cosmic web will detect them immediately. Most days are rainy here from global warming, after the use of fossil fuels in the atmosphere that wreaked havoc on Earth's ecosystem. Alon leaves his mill town for Remold's distillery. A two-wheeled hovercraft with fans in the front and rear rises from the concrete and gravel. Speedily, he races through vineyards and dirty, rickety land plots. Finally, he reaches a more livable spot, a home with fine wood that's less tarnished than others, but that's only because Remold had the pieces sent back to him by menial laborers.

Remold opens the door in a short time. "Aren't you from the next zone over?" he asks. Alon, wet and disheveled from the rain, shivers at his doorstep.

"Can I come in? It's important," Alon requests.

"Only if you make it worth my while." There's no time for trivial conversation, Remold's objective is turning a profit, however minuscule it may be these days.

Alon seats himself on a wooden block, a thin cushion is worn and tattered from many others who have seated here before him. Once settled, he chooses his words carefully.

"There may be no need for it now, but I can make things happen," Alon says.

Remold hasn't been privy to the Syndicate's latest activities. After months of watching the Mirai and the Grey Order's activities in orbit, Alon and the others believe they have at least something, and that's the benefit of working with someone like Remold who wants to make a profit any way he can. Alon thinks he can convince him.

"At the observatory Galileo, we've been watching their moves closely. We think we can do something that's never been done before. We may be able to send new rebels."

"I think you've been drinking," Remold appropriately figures. "The Grey Order hasn't been challenged in years, what makes you think you're any different?"

Unable to rest his back in a relaxing lean, Alon stays upright in thought. "There's also something else that's been forgotten, strikers."

Alon's and Remold's minds collide in the realization of how they're similar in more ways than one. Not only is Alon resourceful, but he can also harken back to the past, of the back lot of Remold's distillery, an abandoned drill waiting in isolation. No one has any need for oil, not these days with the population in internment camps. Alon is going to change that.

"What are you up to, kid?" Remold asks.

"Me, I play a small part in a larger rebellion. I want you, Remold, to provide fuel for the old striker fleets also abandoned in airfields nearby," Alon declares.

"I've heard enough to know there's no convincing you otherwise. You've got a hard head."

"Your oil derrick should still work," Alon says. "All we ask is that you provide fuel for an old striker our mechanics can fix."

The Grey Order does not need these outdated technologies. But for Alon, with some old blueprints, they can repair the dilapidated striker fleets to restore maximum propulsion capability.

Alon is confident. "We're going on a night raid."

"That's a large proposition. But you're only halfway to making this worth my while," Remold reminds Alon.

Remold wants compensation, and rightfully so. Alon concedes. "I can't make promises, though I can make you a tentative offer."

"We judge a person by their promises," Remold says. His leery grin speaks to a sinister vengeance taken once too often.

"Look, if you help us get to the Grey Order's station, we can open the teleportation module with a hack. That'll allow you to smuggle your opioids to more laborers in orbit without detection. We already know the cosmic internet has identification matching. We'll pass you through the web without an identity accelerator."

"Hmm, I do need a few repairs of things around here myself."

For Remold, the exchange is necessary, that way laborers can teleport drop panels and metal sheets from space structures. That is worth more than anything they can grow at ground level. This will allow Remold to do more than repair old structures, he can build new ones. The Syndicate promises to increase trade profits, that much if successful. The Mirai pay little attention to the laborers, it's menial to them, but if Remold has codes to old teleportation module satellites, the entire cosmic internet might be finally vulnerable, at least for The Concord's wavelengths. Beyond transporting items back and forth, Remold is more for Alon's success than he grasps.

"And what about you in all of this? I hope you have a backup in case something goes wrong."

"I know my worth. Without us, the Grey Order would be nothing." Alon says. With long, dirty blonde hair in scruffy clothes, faded from being washed in chemically diluted water, he wants to intrude on the party of low orbit bandits, Greys, with a surprise. "They are corrupted by a lust for power. Until there's nothing left, I'm afraid. They won't just kill me, but torture me the way they've mangled themselves."

"You have your brother, at least," Remold says.

Ozzie Blane is Alon's younger brother and is soon to be taken to the group of Syndicate outlaws. He's only 13 years old but is longing for adventure.

"I never wanted him to be involved in my antics, but I inevitably suppose. I've got other help. We're doing all we can to stop this, the striker fleet and teleportation module codes will be up and running in no time. Just worry about getting that oil from the derrick."

🌌

On the return home from capturing the Martian colonists, Heinemann and the Nemesis crew are happy to recapture interdimensional travel. Going from one home to the next, fleet starships like the Nemesis take pride in traversing the galaxy. Image spectrometry that allows them to teleport with interstellar accuracy to any place within the universe has made their light bridge portals the envy of Yhemlen fleets. Yet, after his many travels, Captain Gereon realizes that he's becoming exhausted by the effects of time travel.

The fact that he's constantly working to circumvent it with some other exciting venture means his warped view of reality is shaping a life of constant turns and echoes in other worlds that fog his memory. He wants to think about something else. Jasper and Madame Ria are his last vestige of hope to feel youthful again if he is unsuccessful in the effort to create a new planet-killer to rid the universe of the Yhemlen. Proxy wars in interstellar space, mixed with frequent kidnappings such as these Martian excavators have been the hallmark of a culture at war for resources, information, and power over cosmic radiation.

The routine mission also afforded the opportunity to make multiple stops in outposts of nearby star systems. Habitable zones lie dormant in pit stops light-years from Earth. Recently, the Heinemann have been considering seeding these lifeless planets for more minions to siphon off, but they are more concerned that self-replicating lifeforms would threaten their genetic mutation program.

Safe havens in space during times of crisis give dignitaries of the Grey Order places to hide. Some of their eldest members have managed to survive by crossing into cold, dark, distant galaxies away from the dangers at home. These new crises cannot be avoided, however, as the subsequent onslaught of power will ricochet loudly, shepherding in a mass exodus or retaliation by vagabonds who want to overthrow the low orbit station. The Grey Order has reinforcements and seems ready, but Alon wants to test their mettle. To Gereon Heinemann, those are just the consequences of war. The Yhemlen, on the other hand, have a starship of their own and do not plan on being taken out easily. But their striker fleet is depleted.

In the access strip of the Nemesis landing station in orbit for the Greys, they finally can convene an important meeting to discuss the next steps. The first duty – Gereon must receive permission from an important figure at their central capital, Grandmaster Frost.

The Yhemlen have something for sure. A single spacecraft of massive proportions that remains idle beneath deep ocean waters. If only they unleashed the monstrosity, the hundreds of Concord strikers that plan to attack while they're distracted may not survive. It's the only way to contend with the behemoth. Though the Yhemlen have something else to consider, like upholding prophecy. If they can get the humans back to their timeline safely, the raid won't put an end to their battle, only extend it. A plan of invasion must be bolstered with other options. That massive starship submerged in water belongs to humans for the taking, so long as they find their way back home through the cosmic web.

The initial goal for Gereon is to avoid being driven away quickly by the Yhemlen's first defenses of sonic vibrations that will jam their communications. Something else that will be hard to circumvent is the Yhemlen's biosphere dome fortification. Its electromagnetic barrier makes it difficult to reach the Yhemlen inside. In a rush to get back up forces, Heinemann and his Nemesis crew want to lay waste until there's only barren sand in the alternate timeline before they need to call for help. If Gereon can successfully acquire the services of a prized bounty hunter, the Nemesis will be able to track another rupture in time where human volunteers accidentally traveled back to the Yhemlen timeline.

Finding the coordinates for tracking these researchers will be up to the Yhemlen's satellite signal in the cosmic web. Much like when the Martian colonists were discovered in an alternate timeline, the bounty hunter will help find and destroy the three volunteers before they can save humanity, with a tracking device. The software programs are intertwining at a rapid rate to cause massive interference.

The Grey Order insists on continuing their raids from across parallel universes. This next ambush is expected to be the final blow. Especially with the Earth situated in the ideal habitable location, it makes it difficult to find places to successfully settle if Earth had to be abandoned. Venus' thick atmosphere has a plush cushion in the upper atmosphere for leftover cities of the Yhemlen to proliferate for the time being.

There is an exoplanet of interest for the Yhemlen, about 40 light-years away in the constellation Capricornus. The solar system Delta Capricorni contains a habitable planet with a prolonged orbit that's hidden behind a white giant, something hard to see. Whatever planet is there is in its early stages of development. And its large orbit making it difficult to track also makes it a target as a second home for the Yhemlen who want to survive. Recently, Yhemlen have been visiting Delta Capricorni, or Deneb Algedi, more often to scout its livability.

The rocky core is small given its gaseous atmosphere, which shines in frigid space, though their Class-A starship has been able to touch down on the surface more than once. It's a planet of ice where polar caps melt when nearer to the Sun. There are less fortunate planets that have been ricocheted off orbit by captured stars of the white giant, and a few locked in orbit too. Lately, it is beginning to seem more like a binary star system. For the Yhemlen, Deneb Algedi is a reminder that this Sector 10's quantum field is a force of strength which will allow them to flee danger, as well as fight it.

The vendetta the Heinemann holds against the Yhemlen is growing more personal for Captain Gereon, he is exhibiting signs of human emotion. It is difficult for The Concord to track planets in Delta Capricorni. Its location will require lots of energy to maintain habitable living conditions. In the meantime, the Grey Order must displace their emotions, and rely solely on reason in a quest for supremacy. The mission to debilitate Yhemlen Earth and remove their presence begins now. Jasper and Madame Ria notice the peculiarity of their father's emotional outbursts and are working fast to correct them. They cannot afford mindless wars based on a deviation from logic. The Grey Order's complex bio-network across the cosmic web will be strangled by their constant bickering of war and superiority that lowers themselves to constant rage. Anger and hatred underly their troublesome past.