The Zeus Orbital Weapons Platform was the pride of the EXN defense fleet. Orbiting within sight of the tiny asteroid moon, Metis, it sat in the perfect place to dominate all Jovian airspace. It was fitted with five massive railguns, each capable of executing strikes on any target in the solar system, accurate to within a few centimeters, and with enough force to make such precision redundant. Motors peeked out of the superstructure on all sides, balancing it when one of the guns was fired, and preventing the considerable recoil from pushing the station off course. Radio telescopes attached to the platform supplied the constant stream of data the artillery computers needed to thread their cataclysmic needles.

These telescopes immediately noticed something very unusual near the orbit of Europa. One moment there was nothing, the next a distinct and clear heat signature. Central command was immediately notified and human eyes first looked upon the hole in the sky.

There was some confusion, at first. The object was almost perfectly spherical, and exuding a microwave frequency not seen in most planetary objects. Contact was established with naval forces operating nearby, and it was ascertained that the object could not be related to any official flights nearby. It was eventually decided that the best course of action was to fire a test round at it.

The slug soundlessly exploded from the muzzle of one of the hulking railguns and soared toward the hole in the sky. As it approached the object, there was a flash of light and an army appeared.

To the radio telescopes on Zeus, it looked like a warm cloud of hydrogen that spontaneously materialized all around the puncture. When it started moving, it did so in a predictable fashion, falling toward Jupiter. Things became interesting when the tendrils of gas began curving to intercept the slug.

The impact was unremarkable. The artillery shell simply disappeared into the cloud and radio contact with it ceased. Its cameras showed nothing but stars, then static. Again, confusion rippled through the command room of the weapons platform. A volley of fire was ordered at the object and its shroud of gas.

There were ten sharp booms as the railguns spun up and released. Ten identical explosive rounds soared in a graceful arc toward the expanding cloud of material. Almost immediately, the cloud reacted. It glowed faintly and rushed to meet the ten artillery shells. They disappeared as the first had, and the cloud continued to charge forward, directly toward the station.

Now there was some measure of terror in the eyes of the personnel manning the station. The only sound in the command room was the loud hum of the life support. The cloud continued to accelerate, now visible as a dim blue veil slung over the portholes. No one would take any action; all were frozen with doubt.

When the cloud struck, it did so with a quiet hissing, as if sand were being poured down a metal pipe. Suddenly, reports came in that fuel lines and antennae on the fringes of the weapons platform were failing all at once. The cameras showed them floating away and rapidly disintegrating, momentarily glowing orange and white before puffing away into the blue haze.

Panic overtook the command personnel. There was short burst of frenzied activity before the oxygen lines burst and the walls began to wear away. Like rats, they suffocated, catching blurred glimpses at the terrifying expanse of nothing that found its way into their tiny bubble of safety. Now the emptiness was not quite so empty as it usually was.

The Zeus Orbital Weapons Platform was the first dot on the monitor to blink off. Several other military installations in the Jovian system ceased to exist an hour later. Then the civilian reports began to roll in.

The man in the black suit was rather excited, and he showed this by whispering slightly louder into his headpiece.

"I want all corporate defense forces redirected to Jupiter as soon as possible. Hijack some independent ships if need be."

The Roma Shipyard in high Earth orbit was an ugly mass of spindles and struts, stretching over several kilometers of empty space. By volume, it was the largest structure ever built in space, though it weighed no more than an ocean-bound cargo ship. It served as the construction site for some of the great Exonavis projects, including the Facem, and more recently, one of the four Equites devices. It also housed the central command for the Exonavis war machine. In many ways, it was the center of the world.

Currently, Roma's great metal cage held nothing. The Equites that had been built here was already burning for Jupiter, to help deal with whatever monstrosity had been unleashed there.

Black was not accustomed to uncertainty. For most of his impressively long life, he had known about nearly everything that happened within the human universe. He always knew exactly what he would be dealing with, and exactly how much he could afford to spend in doing so. Hell, he knew every atom of the Solar System by fucking name.

But here he was sending the whole army to intercept something completely unknown to him. The initial report woke him up about three hours previously. He was having a fine sleep, his first in over fifty hours. Then, a blinding alarm had gone off in his head and he found himself shaken awake inside the zero-g hammock. There was an unusual object, said the report, perfectly spherical and radiating in the high-radio. Then the cloud, and the vaporizing slugs. Then utter chaos as Zeus flickered off.

All EXN military assets in the Jovian moon system were immediately ordered to fire all they had at the mysterious cloud, but they suffered the same fate as the weapons platform. Black was, even now, actively trying to forget that several thousand tons of high-end explosives had been poured into this cloud with no discernible effect. Shit, he thought, they didn't even blow up. They just sort of disappeared in the haze. Lasers, at least, seemed to cause the cloud to react negatively, making it flinch and writhe before the weapon and the ship and the crew were swallowed by another arm of the cloud. Firing orders had already been updated in lieu of this new information, and all Black could do now was wait.

What was worse was that forces not under his direct control had also encountered the anomaly. Both UDS and MIAD separatist ships saw the blue glow spread across the disk of Jupiter. Some simply ran into it unknowingly, and faded with nothing but a short note of alarm. Others fired test shots at it, earning them their punctual executions. Worst of all, was the fact that Black, in his ignorance, had ordered artillery pieces on Io to fire at the cloud as well, drawing attention to the moon. A moon which was, unfortunately, populated.

The first reactions had been dumbfounded wonder. Airless Io seemed to have spontaneously grown an atmosphere, beautiful electric blue and white obscuring the imposing view of Jupiter. Pictures taken through resort windows were already on the net, all exclaiming disbelief and excitement. Then came the terrified reports of entire buildings simply disappearing in the clouds, voices shouting in brief surprise before being cut off. The stream of pictures and messages from the Ionian surface had been winding down for the past hour, and the last one, a blurry, motion-smeared image of a volcanic shield enveloped in shining blue light, had been sent out almost ten minutes ago.

Black sighed. This was going to be big. There was just no covering it up at this point. There was some hope in that the other moons of Jupiter held their fire. Maybe they wouldn't be targeted. At least Black himself had nothing to answer for. No one knew that he was the one who ordered the Io artillery to open fire. No one knew that he had killed them all.

He did, of course. But that could be dealt with in due time.

Black had several qualms about using the Equites. She was a mighty weapon, that was certain. He was hoping her reveal would be something of a surprise for the public, a grand unveiling. She would be the war-ender, the solution to all future conflict, and the key to interstellar travel, all in one clean package. Now, he was forced to use her in this messy, uncalculated maneuver. So far, two of the four Equites devices were tasked with responding to the Jupiter incident. He was uncertain of this decision, considering what had happened to the other ships that had fired against the anomaly. He paled to think that each device was worth several trillion on its own, and all four held more than the Facem project in its entirety.

But he assured himself that it was the right choice. There were still two of them floating safely in the asteroid belt, far from any danger. He might even be able to spin this situation into a victory for Exonavis. The story already blossomed in his mind. The mysterious, all-consuming force, vanquished by the timely application of emergency force by EXN. We saved the world! he sang in his mind. Oh certainly, there were losses, and we mourn the countless lives that ended that day, but I quake to imagine what would have happened if Exonavis had not stepped in when it did.

Theodora scrolled through page after page of story as it poured in from the Jovian moon. It seemed that the world had very suddenly forgotten about the war. No ceasefire had been declared, but hundreds of naval ships, once on opposite sides of the ideological coin, were now a solid mass moving for Jupiter. It was the most coordinated naval movement Theodora had ever seen. Whatever was happening on Io was likely the only explanation. A few thousand civilian deaths were apparently enough to end a war. This struck Theodora as somehow contradictory.

The Salutem, meanwhile, was well on its way back to Earth. Saturn was a brown dot in the distance, just one of the countless stars. There was some concern about delving back toward the sun, what with this new, unexpected development, but the automated captain had assured everyone that there was nothing to fear. Jupiter would stay far off during the return voyage, along with every other major body in the solar system. There was no possibility of danger. Besides, said the captain, if something came up, the Salutem had the fuel to reverse direction and had back to the outer solar system. But that wouldn't be necessary.

Theodora closed the screen and took a moment to focus on the real world. Again, a hush had fallen over the liner, with the passengers either scared for the future or shocked by the happenings around Jupiter. Theodora was the only person on the observation deck. She breathed out and in, savoring the month-old air of the liner and gazing at the spray of identical stars. A few of them, she guessed, were planets. She decided there was too much emptiness and went back to the closer confines of her room.

The Equites would be able to put an end to this mess. It was the final word in weapons technology. Indeed, given enough time, she could destroy just about everything in the universe. If it were ever used, Black had no qualms about its ability to deal with anything. He was also certain that there would be collateral damage if such an eventuality came to pass. What a shame.

Three hours had passed since the inexplicable hole had appeared near Jupiter. The planet and its inner moons were now under quarantine by the UDS. Thankfully, the cloud seemed content to remain attached to Jupiter and refraining from attacking anything. The initial panic had worn off slightly, after Europa was enveloped in the cloud without any ill effects. Panic still ran amok throughout the human universe, but it would soon die down.

Black glanced at a nearby screen. It displayed the disk of Jupiter, an oblong ellipse with a dim halo of dark purple, barely visible against the obsidian of space. It was laughably innocuous, too big to be sentient and too ethereal to cause harm.

Information about the incident was suppressed for the time being, mostly to avoid further terror. It was a difficult task, certainly, what with the number of telescopes in operation throughout the solar system, but it was successful for now.

It was for this reason that only a select few people knew that the cloud was growing. Every passing minute it gained mass and volume, and now contained more material than the planet Mars. The situation had no doubt worsened, but Black was confident. The anomaly was localized, caged, and it had nowhere to go. This would be easy.

Black began to doze off. He hadn't slept since the incident began, and was once again felt the need to do so. Just as the digitally enhanced dreams began to flicker at the edges of his vision, the door opened.

Two men walked in, one in a blue suit, the other maroon. Like him, they were supernaturally tall and emaciated, both advanced in their years.

Blue spoke, "The MIAD is pulling its support from the Jupiter operation."

Black gawked at the man for a moment. "That's unexpected," he muttered.

Maroon responded with more bad news. "Also, the YAAD has expressed concerns that the United Districts is handling the situation unprofessionally. They want their own men on the board."

"Tell them they can have whatever they need. We're not that desperate yet."

Blue seemed concerned. "Pardon me sir, but you don't look well."

"That's not a recent development. I assure you, I will be fine." He waved them off.

Maroon left as bidden, but Blue seemed reluctant. "Are you sure, sir?"

Black considered the man for a moment. He guessed that Blue was his closest acquaintance, though that was by virtue of his own isolation rather than any personal relationship with him.

"Have you heard the story of Noah's Ark?" said Black.

"I have, sir," said Blue.

"I think the flood's come. I'm worried that we may not have enough arks."

Gaea opened her eyes. The universe smiled to greet her.

Slowly, ponderously, she shrugged.

Moved limbs, tested her limits.

Looked across the nothing, through the dust. Black black black black black black green.

Tiny, fading green.

It drew her, enraptured her with its mote's worth of beauty.

Compulsion, gravity sucking sucking, forward.

The locust part of her followed closely, warm shield with a million tiny, glinting eyes.

They were hungry.

Fear of death is a very loud thing.

It screamed in his own mind, distracting him and suggesting terrible, terrible ideas even as he tried to work.

It was even louder coming from the Earth below, with mothers weeping and men yelling and children keening into the raucous night. Of course, the self-interested idiots down there were only now starting to get concerned, when the alien cloud began moving. Nothing but solemn condolences when a whole moon was slaughtered. He hated them.

Then why was he fighting for them? It would be easy to escape. The cloud, it was obvious now, was making a beeline for Earth. He doubted it would notice if he just took a shuttle for Mars, left this rotting pustule of a planet to whatever fate awaited it. Hell, the planet was lethal to him. Its gravity could snap his bones. But here he was, whiling away the last hours of his life trying to keep it alive.

Black shook his shrunken head and refocused his eyes onto the virtual monitor. Watching the anomaly now, he certainly felt that same consuming terror that the people on world were experiencing. The best estimates placed the cloud traveling at or about four percent the speed of light. The footage playing on the monitor showed the amorphous mass, glowing brightly in the ultraviolet, plowing through the asteroid belt. In front of it was an impossibly wide black structure, invisible if it weren't for the burn of the cloud nearby. Every now and again, a rock would come careening at the structure and evaporate in a puff of gravel. He wondered how many of those asteroids had people on them.

Even if there were, black reasoned, their deaths were small change compared to what was going to happen if he didn't get a viable defense together. He deeply regretted sending all those ships to Jupiter now, but he was still managing to scrounge together a respectable fighting force by hijacking the rest of the UDS fleets near Earth. Politicians were pestering the EXN offices endlessly, demanding their units be returned to them immediately. Against his better judgement, Black refused to let them all get slaughtered like the swine they were, and so ignored the complaints.

The four Equites devices, with their otherworldly propulsion mechanism, were already waiting in LEO, far ahead of the rest of the fleet. Black knew it was only a matter of time until someone on the surface managed to find them and start asking questions, but the secrecy of the project was hardly a pivotal factor at this point. Let them see, he thought. Let them quake.

The monitor shimmering in front of Black's eyes flickered to show the view from the maw of one of the devices. What was the cover story they gave to the engineers? Yes, a laser. He could still retreat to that story if this travesty ended soon enough. It was a laughable short-selling of the machine, though that was not to saw the compound gamma laser was a toy. It was just so much less impressive than the tiny kernel of power waiting to be born within those great jaws. It filled him with equal parts dread and pride, knowing what he had wrought. But there was no time for philosophical musings. Not now.

The Salutem was turning around.

It was disorienting to see the stars swirl around as the ship reoriented in preparation for the burn. Theodora had retreated to her room, and there she watched the panorama outside blur into white lines. She moved away from the window once everything stopped moving and nestled into the hammock, waiting for the burn.

The captain spoke over the intercom, in the same measured, synthesized voice with which he had announced the maneuver a few minutes prior. It instructed all passengers to please secure all objects and to strap themselves snugly into the hammocks. These measures were for their own safety.

In the few tense minutes between the announcement Theodora's isolation, she had heard rumors that the cloud was heading for Earth. That was why the captain was turning the ship around. The maneuver itself was dangerous, almost insane. Considering fuel and food, there was very little room for error. But the chances of survival were still better than going back to Earth. It seemed fundamentally wrong to Theodora, to run toward the empty vacuum and away from air.

The engines hummed and Theodora's snapped against the wall. Forever the Salutem sang, until it died with a sputtering whisper.