Dr. Elias Kohler stared at the night sky from the balcony of his isolated mountain home. His eyes, too large and too far apart to pass close scrutiny, focused on a point beyond Ursa Major. Where his true home world orbited a star invisible to the naked human eye. Fifteen long years marooned on this developing world had given him plenty of time for stargazing and regret.
The sound of tires on gravel broke his reverie. Headlights swept across the trees as a black SUV wound its way up the private road. He'd been expecting them since Harmon's call three hours ago. The words still echoed in his mind: "It's happening."
He'd known this day would come. The Vanguard always preceded the Armada.
The SUV stopped. Three figures emerged. He recognized Harmon immediately. The man hadn't changed much in the decade since they'd last met. The other two were new: a military type and a woman whose bearing screamed 'intelligence analyst.'
"Dr. Kohler," Harmon called out as they approached. "I apologize for the late hour."
Kohler adjusted his glasses, a prop that helped him appear more human. "You wouldn't be here unless something extraordinary had happened. Something related to my... theoretical work."
Harmon's face remained impassive. "May we come inside?"
Once seated in Kohler's living room, designed to appear eccentrically human with its cluttered bookshelves and vintage astronomical charts, Harmon nodded to the woman.
She opened a tablet and slid it across the coffee table. "These images were captured by New Horizons II approximately fourteen hours ago."
Kohler didn't need to feign his sharp intake of breath. Prelator-class vessels. Twelve of them, in standard observational formation. His people's ships.
"Where?" he asked, even though he already knew.
"Pluto orbit," the military man answered. "Appeared out of nowhere. No approach detected."
Kohler's three hearts beat faster. "Fascinating. The design is... remarkable."
"Cut the act, Doctor," Harmon said.
The military man looked confused. The analyst's eyes narrowed.
Kohler carefully placed the tablet down. "What exactly are you proposing, Director?"
"We're assembling a team. Small. Elite. The prototype you designed, theoretically." Harmon emphasized the word with sarcasm, " ~ is ready for its first real test. We need to reach those vessels and determine if they represent a threat."
"And you want me to go with them?" Kohler asked. Genuine surprise in his voice. They'd never allowed him off-planet before.
"You're the only one with the expertise we need," Harmon confirmed. "The President has authorized full disclosure to the mission team about your... unique perspective."
Kohler looked again at the images. A complex mix of emotions washed through him. Those ships shouldn't be here. If they were empty as reported...
"Who else is on this team?" he asked.
Commander Sarah Montoya was halfway through her morning run when her secure phone buzzed. Twenty minutes later, she was on a military transport headed for an undisclosed location. Twelve hours after that, she sat in a sterile conference room at NASA's restricted Quantum Propulsion Laboratory. She wondered why she'd been pulled from her assignment at the International Lunar Base.
The door opened, and a young man in rumpled clothes walked in. He looked as confused as Montoya felt.
"Alex Novak," he said by way of introduction & extended his hand. "Propulsion engineering. They pulled me out of bed at 3 AM and refused to tell me why."
"Commander Sarah Montoya," she replied, shaking his hand. "Same story, different time zone."
The door opened again, admitting a striking woman with close-cropped dark hair. "Dr. Maya Rodriguez," she said without preamble. "Xenobiology. Please tell me someone here knows what's going on."
Before either could respond, a fourth person entered. A tall, muscular man whose bearing immediately registered special forces to Montoya's experienced eye.
"Specialist Zane Williams," he stated, taking a position standing against the wall rather than sitting.
The four of them regarded each other in awkward silence until Director Harmon entered, followed by a thin, scholarly-looking man with unusual features.
"Thank you all for coming on such short notice," Harmon began. "What I'm about to tell you is classified above top secret. The existence of this mission is known only to the President, the Joint Chiefs, and the people in this room."
He nodded to an aide, who dimmed the lights as a holographic projection appeared in the center of the table ~ the silent fleet orbiting Pluto.
"Fourteen hours ago, these vessels appeared in orbit around Pluto. They weren't there during previous scans. They're approximately two kilometers in length each. No life signs detected. No distress signals. No communication of any kind."
A collective murmur ran through the room.
"Are they..." Rodriguez began.
"Yes," Harmon confirmed. "They are not of Earth origin."
The room fell silent.
"This is Dr. Elias Kohler," Harmon continued, gesturing to the unusual man beside him. "He will be joining your team as a scientific consultant."
Montoya studied Kohler carefully. Something about him seemed off, though she couldn't pinpoint what.
"Your mission is simple in concept, though complex in execution," Harmon continued. "You will travel to Pluto aboard our prototype long-range vessel. You will board the alien fleet, determine its origin, purpose, and current status, and assess whether it represents any threat to Earth."
"With all due respect, sir," Novak interjected, "the fastest mission to Pluto took over nine years. Even with the theoretical engines we've been developing…"
"The Hermes prototype is ready," Harmon cut him off. "Using Dr. Kohler's... theories, we've developed a drive capable of reaching Pluto in approximately three weeks."
Montoya's eyes widened. That kind of propulsion technology would revolutionize space travel. If it worked.
"Each of you was selected for your unique skills," Harmon continued. "Commander Montoya, your experience leading complex missions in isolated environments. Dr. Rodriguez, your theoretical work on potential alien biology. Mr. Novak, your brilliance with experimental propulsion systems. Specialist Williams, your security expertise and adaptive combat skills. And Dr. Kohler, for his unparalleled insights into potential non-terrestrial technologies."
Montoya noticed Rodriguez squinting at Kohler with professional interest.
"There's something else you need to know," Harmon said, his voice dropping. "Something only a handful of people on Earth are aware of."
Kohler stepped forward & removed his glasses. For the first time, the team got a clear look at his eyes. Their unusual size and placement, with the nictitating membrane that swept horizontally across them.
"Dr. Kohler has been living among us for fifteen years," Harmon explained as the team stared in shock. "His ship crashed in the Arctic Circle. He is our only direct contact with intelligent extraterrestrial life. And he may be our only hope of understanding what we're facing."
Montoya's training kept her face neutral, but her mind raced. She was looking at an actual alien. One who had apparently been helping humanity for years.
"Those ships," Kohler said, his voice carrying a slight harmonic quality now that he wasn't hiding it, "are from a civilization far more advanced than yours. If they are truly abandoned as you say, the technology aboard could advance Earth's development by centuries. Or, in the wrong hands, destroy you completely."
"Then we better make sure they end up in the right hands," Williams said, speaking for the first time. His eyes locked on Kohler.
"You leave in forty-eight hours," Harmon announced. "Dr. Kohler will brief you on what you might expect to find. Commander Montoya, you have operational control of the mission. Any questions?"
Montoya had about a thousand questions, but one rose above the others.
"Yes, sir. If these ships are as advanced as Dr. Kohler suggests, what makes us think their original owners won't come looking for them?"
Kohler turned to her, an unreadable expression on his alien face. "That, Commander, is precisely what worries me."
Later that evening, Montoya found Kohler alone in the facility's observation dome, staring at the stars.
"You've been stranded here for fifteen years?" she asked, keeping her distance.
He didn't turn. "Yes. My ship was damaged attempting to navigate your solar system's unusual gravitational harmonics. The crash destroyed my communication array and damaged the drive beyond repair. Well, with the materials available on Earth."
"And these ships... are they from your people?"
He turned & studyied her with his unsettling eyes. "They appear to be, yes."
"Then why didn't you seem happy to see them? Wouldn't they be your way home?"
A long silence stretched between them.
"Commander, there are things about my species I haven't shared with your government," he finally said. "Things they wouldn't understand. My presence here was never supposed to happen. And those ships..." He looked back to the stars. "Those ships should not be empty."
Montoya processed this. "Are you saying they're dangerous?"
"I'm saying that in three weeks, we will find answers that neither of us may be prepared for." He turned fully toward her, his expression grave. "I agreed to join this mission for one reason: to ensure that whatever is aboard those ships doesn't destabilize the careful balance that allows developing species, like yours, to survive first contact with the wider universe."
"You're not telling me everything," Montoya observed.
"No," Kohler admitted. "I'm not. But I will tell you this: I've grown fond of humanity in my time here. I don't wish to see your potential extinguished before it's fully realized."
Montoya wasn't sure if that was reassurance or a warning. As she left him to his stargazing, she couldn't shake the feeling that this mission would change humanity forever. If they survived.
In his private quarters, Alex Novak couldn't sleep. The schematics for the Hermes prototype floated above his bed. A three-dimensional blueprint displayed technology he'd helped design but never fully understood. The theoretical principles Kohler had provided over the years had always seemed to operate on assumptions that contradicted established physics.
Now he knew why.
A soft knock at his door interrupted his thoughts. He opened it to find Dr. Rodriguez, looking as sleepless as he felt.
"Can't stop thinking about it either?" she asked.
He gestured her in. "I've spent three years working with principles I thought were theoretical. Turns out I've been applying alien science without knowing it."
Rodriguez nodded, studying the schematics. "I've been developing models for potential alien biology based on different evolutionary paths and environments. Never imagined I'd meet an actual extraterrestrial wearing glasses and a cardigan."
"What do you make of him?"
"He's hiding something," she said immediately. "His physiological responses don't match his statements. I've been trained to read human micro-expressions, but I'm picking up similar inconsistencies in his."
Novak frowned. "You think he's lying about the ships?"
"Not lying, exactly. But definitely not telling us everything." She pointed to a section of the ship design. "Look at the integration between the conventional engines and Kohler's 'theoretical' components. It's almost like they were designed to be compatible."
"What are you suggesting?"
Rodriguez lowered her voice despite being in a secure room. "His ship crashes, he gets taken in by the government, and over fifteen years he slowly feeds us technology... but only certain technologies. Only the ones he wants us to have."
"You think he planned this? All of it?"
"I don't know. But I think we should be very careful about what we assume regarding Dr. Kohler's motives."
After she left, Novak stared at the schematics for another hour, wondering if he'd designed humanity's greatest achievement or its Trojan horse.
Director Harmon stood in the cavernous hangar, gazing up at the Hermes prototype. Sleek and predatory, its black hull absorbed light rather than reflecting it. Unlike conventional spacecraft, it had no visible thrusters, just smooth curves leading to a series of rings at the stern that somehow created the impossible drive Kohler had helped them develop.
"Beautiful, isn't she?"
Harmon turned to find Specialist Williams at his side. Unlike the scientists, Williams moved silently.
"She's our best hope," Harmon replied.
"You trust him?" Williams asked.
"Trust is a strong word. I believe his interests are currently aligned with ours."
Williams nodded slightly. "I've been briefed on my secondary mission parameters."
"Let's hope they remain unnecessary," Harmon said. "But if Kohler's loyalties prove... complicated, or if what you find out there represents a clear threat..."
"I understand, sir. Earth's security comes first."
"Three weeks to Pluto," he murmured. "And then we find out if we've been saved or damned."
In the shadows of an access gantry above them, Kohler listened. His enhanced hearing capturing every word. He'd expected no less. Human behavior was predictable. Especially their fears of the unknown.
What they couldn't predict was what waited in the silent fleet. Truths about the universe no developing species was supposed to learn until they were ready. Truths his people had learned way too late.
He gazed at the prototype ship. Built with the fragments of knowledge he'd carefully curated over fifteen years. A ship that would take them all exactly where they needed to go. The purpose none of them, not even Harmon with his various suspicions, could begin to comprehend.
The Vanguard had arrived.
The Observer was in place.
Now the true purpose of his mission could finally begin.
Wow! That was just riveting! Thank you so much for sharing, Maryellen. I'm so hooked, wondering what will happen next. Will they arrive in three weeks time and what will the reception be. So many questions too, about who's lying, hiding, manipulating and on and on. Hmm, could there a hint of romance too, I'm wondering. Fascinating! Bravo!