What I noticed, as I pursued Larimak’s fleet, was that they were in a holding pattern way further off than traditional engagement ranges. Precognition could only go so far, with the blinding speeds of their looping paths and the far-off distances they kept to. In dumb people words, they were moving away from us almost as fast as we could chase them. They saw us coming, and crossed to the other side of the proverbial street. Without Sol engines, I wouldn’t be gaining the space equivalent of “inches.”

  The strategy was clear to me, especially since I knew what Larimak’s singular target was; these were siege tactics. The Gate was a stationary target that didn’t require zipping in close to spray and pray. The prince could calculate an exact trajectory for his weaponry, since The Gap and its protection layers couldn’t be moved. Humanity could maybe try to shoot some warheads down, but whatever our future-seeing abilities were, we couldn’t hope to shred thousands of munitions at once.

  Putting our ships in the way is off the table, unless it’s a last resort. Each vessel can only absorb one munition, and we’d run out of a force to fight Larimak pretty quickly.

  “Well hello, my little botfuckers! It seems I found the hole you crawled out of.” A sinister laugh thundered over the PA system, as Larimak sent a video message to the human fleet. Cold, invisible tendrils of fear strangled me around the throat; I remembered the first time I heard him gloating over a PA system. It was when Mikri tried to trade himself for me. “Temura gave me all I need to know to win this battle; you can evade and shoot even at fucking space speeds! A lovely parlor trick, but the thing is…I know about it. Scurry to me all you like humans, it’s such fun!”

  I gritted my teeth, pushing the ship’s engines even further past the safety limits. “When I get my hands on this prick, I want him to suffer! He’ll pay for everything.”

  Larimak continued his monologue, a grating arrogance in his voice. “You know, you could’ve ruled this dimension, but no; you had to befriend those useless birds! We tracked you when you brought Jetti away. Oh, I’m going to have such a fun time stepping on their little cities after you’re not around to protect them. Humans, you’re so fucking pathetic! So soft. No vision. You get gifted powers by some breach that hands you everything, and what do you do with them? Teach chipbrains love! A-ha.”

  “Mikri, how do we shut this fucker up?”

  “I could switch off the audio channel, as could you. I am happy that you thought teaching me to love was worthwhile, if that means anything to you,” the android answered.

  “It does. Don’t cut the channel; Larimak might give us his plans. Anything he says might help you, Sofia, and Capal. I meant physically silencing him.”

  “If I knew how to break the prince forever from afar, I would have hacked him—into pieces. Many pieces.”

  The tin can thinks he’s clever. He kinda is. “Huh. That would be your most impressive hacking showcase yet!”

  “Let it sink in that you are unworthy; you are mere bullets, while I am a gunsmith of cunning! You can never be half of what I am.” Prince Larimak never grew weary of hearing himself speak and continued his long-winded spiel. “Larimak the Insane, I always liked that name. Crazy gets things done! Insane believes that he can take down complacent dimension-hoppers before they get off the ground. I am a savior. The machines will not get away with slaughtering us, and even you are not untouchable after helping them.”

  “On second thought, turn Larimak off. Sofia and Capal can listen to this broadcast on their own, if there's anything useful said,” I hissed.

  Mikri cut the feed without hesitation. “My foremost concern is for you, Preston, but before humanity, my people knew we were losing the war. Our days were numbered. I do not favor the scenario that Larimak might kill the organics who chose to be our friends, then destroy us. I had hoped that in time, the Vascar could be something more.”

  “You already are. Look, tell this to your network; you don’t need the factories on Kalka to continue your species anymore. You can pass through portals unharmed. Androids can go anywhere, and survive without goofy fleshbags.”

  The Vascar was quiet for a long moment. “Sofia mentioned the concept of a soul. You irrational meat tubes are my soul. Survival is little consolation.”

  “That’s why survival wasn’t worth shit to me either. Soul and Sol rhyme, so let’s call that my soul. I am nothing without my home.”

  “I think I understand the level of significance. I have optimized your engines, as well as those of other ESU ships, to be 1% more efficient. Catch Larimak.”

  The extra jet of power kicked in, and I was suddenly grateful that Mikri had tinkered with our systems. I wasn’t going to have Larimak’s fleet in my sight, but it was close enough to start taking low-probability shots at the hostiles. The android fell silent just in time for me to clue in on the goosebumps, and I jerked the steering column down in a panic. The “Fireball” rounds covered a wide swath of space, which my roof barely ducked under. It was pretty far to be taking shots, but if this was close enough for Larimak, it was for me too.

  This was the distance he wanted us at, and humans could beat him at his own game. There was no time to wait to start taking out the siege weapons that were battering Sol. I cursed at the paltry range of my homing missiles, but settled for laser weapons with reluctance. The dots on the sensors were moving so quickly, that it was tough to know heads from tails. Panic crept in, as I fired a blind shot in the hopes I’d steer it right so far. Evasion was a feeling I knew, but how had the pilots at Temura mastered the weapons?

  I don’t have the sense, or fuck, I can’t recognize it! It’s all a stab in the dark. How am I supposed to help? Should I give control to Mikri, if it’s pure calculation…but he can’t even evade, and a trillion androids couldn’t calculate an impossible shot.

  “I know you said to be silent, but your heart rate is elevating, Preston. Was there something that triggered you to struggle with control of your faculties?” Mikri prompted.

  I gripped my head, releasing my control on the manual joystick for aiming the weapons. “I can’t see, Mikri. I can’t tell where they’re going to be. It’s not working!”

  “Calm down. There must be a solution, though I do not understand how organics process stimuli.” While the Vascar was expending valuable time talking, I could see more missiles sailing around the humans in pursuit—heading to the Space Gate with the highest yields Caelum could muster. “Capal has studied precog the most. I will put him on the line.”

  During the brief pause for Mikri to fetch Capal—who didn’t have precognition, so I didn’t see what he could possibly explain from mere secondhand knowledge—I was on my own. My refusal to back down, even without the foresight, was because I knew what was on the line. There was no turning back. If Sol was about to be extinguished, I didn’t care whether I died or not. As Mikri put it, survival was little consolation.

  The warnings about incoming rounds were difficult to feel through my increasing alarm, which drowned the little nudges. An incendiary round shaved my starboard side, and the fighter rolled like a damn Ferris wheel. My hands shot to the steering column, not wanting to go into a tailspin in these physics like the first time; it was a guessing game whether the ship would respond. I applied thrust to stop the rotation, and got myself back into straight flying.

  I struggled to calm myself after that close shave; it was lucky that my hull integrity held. Glows that weren’t meant for our formation passed above me, and I thought about tuning in to ESU chatter to hear how the Space Gate was holding up. Larimak must’ve already gotten a few hits in, since he could put every shot on net. After struggling to focus on future glimpses, I knew I could afford the distraction. Maybe Mikri could keep me apprised.

  Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Preston?” an organic voice spoke, reminding me of a teacher pointing to a student with a raised hand. “Can you hear me?”

  I tried to steady my voice, as I barely caught onto an impulse and weaved away from another volley. “Yes. Hurry, Capal!”

  “Okay. I know that precognition works through your subconscious. Evasion seems to tickle your fight-or-flight, but shooting is more subtle. Look at the sensor dots, and close your eyes. Continue their pathing in your head.”

  “You want me to close my eyes in the middle of battle?”

  “Just try the visualization exercise! It must be worth a shot, if you’re calling me. The point is that you practice with your eyes closed, then try to run the paths forward with your eyes open. Got it?”

  I nodded, swallowing as I saw thousands of missile dots behind me on sensors. “Okay. Just…one thing first. Mikri, how is the Space Gate holding up?”

  The android beeped with dismay. “The Sol metal of the first layer has been severely disfigured by hundreds of impacts. It cannot sustain this level of pressure, despite its thickness and composition. I estimate its destruction within the next twenty seconds. However, there are still two other layers between it and The Gap.”

  “Fuck! Keep me apprised of that situation, please. I want to know how dire it is.”

  “I am uncertain that this will help your combat effectiveness, but I will honor your wishes.”

  I took a peek at the sensors screen, trying to burn it into my brain like a memory puzzle. I sealed my eyelids shut, and tried to do some deep breathing or other yoga shit. It didn’t work, instead triggering proximity alarms as I was a hair away from being incinerated. How many of my nine lives had I used already? Cursing myself for how slowly I was catching on, I gave this idea one more try. I tried to memorize the sensors screen, and imagine the continuing trajectory of one dot, which I highlighted.

  The target veered left and downward in my mind, straying far off course. My eyelids popped open, to find the blinking indicator in that exact position; I was giddy with hope for a moment, a grin on my face. I was back in business! Capal was a fucking genius to guess at the exact thought process that went into seizing that potential. I continued to follow it with my pupil, and let my gaze wander. I sensed where my hand needed to go to follow the trajectory, like I was reaching for a drink without looking at it.

  With a hope and a prayer, I fired a laser off…and waited. From these distances, the idea of having a visual was laughable. There was only staring at the sensors screen long enough that I had double vision, and waiting the few seconds it took for the round to reach them. I saw a momentary flicker of a highlighted dot, before it vanished. Got them—score one for Preston!

  Since I was lacking the epic visual, I imagined Superman laser eyes sawing the ship in half, before a chain reaction of seventeen fireballs consumed it. This was an accurate depiction in my book.

  “Mikri! Where are your congratulations?” I demanded.

  The Vascar whirred in irritation. “You told me not to speak. Also, I thought good spirits were not appropriate with the given situation. The first layer of the gate fell while you were practicing your visuals.”

  “Shit. You told me it was coming though that first layer, so that was known. But now, we’re in their grill and can start taking them out. I’ve got my mojo back!”

  “You are doing well, but humans…cannot possibly be fast enough. I have calculated. You cannot take them out before the Space Gate will crumple. The camera drones relayed the exact angle needed to hit the second layer, center of mass. Larimak is precise, and its structural integrity has already weakened by thirty percent. I am sorry.”

  “Thirty percent of the second layer? There’s still time to stop it! I’ll shoot faster.”

  “Now thirty-six percent. Thirty-seven.”

  “Don’t tell me that. Ugh, just update me if a layer falls only.”

  “Fine.”

  I thought about how quickly that number had shot up by seven percent, and realized there was maybe a minute before layer two was down. Larimak had brought enough explosives to atomize a fucking star. I dodged a cluster of rounds heading toward me, only to immediately get tickled by another warning; I barely bobbed away in time. Deviating my course was wasting valuable seconds.

  I latched onto two dots, deciding not to care if I was hit, and pulled the trigger twice in quick succession. I didn’t wait to see if they hit, moving on to a third target; my senses barely got a feel for its movement before I took my chances. I’d never felt more slow on a spaceship in Caelum, or felt so futile chipping away at their ranks. The fact was, there were tens of thousands of them, and I was taking out only one at a time. Not every human ship could even pull off precognition, to make full use of the few thousand we’d scrambled.

  Maybe that’s the difference. What if Capal gives them all the lesson he told me, and we can hurry off the kills?

  “The second layer of the Gate is now tattered. It is permitting rounds through to the final barrier, and the remnants of its protection will be stripped within seconds,” Mikri informed me, sounding a little depressed.

  I screamed with frustration. “Do something! Have Capal send a broadcast to our fleet; you hacked the ships. He needs to share that message fast, and…we can kill them faster.”

  “Preston, please be logical. The third layer is taking its first hits. It is the thickest of all, but will not last much longer than the others. You have reached my conclusion.”

  “I reject your conclusion! Do what I said!”

  “I’ve already put Capal on with the other humans; I did it as soon as he finished with you. It is not your fault. There was no viable defensive strategy for such a critical weakness.”

  “Shut up. Shut the fuck up!” I fired a string of lasers with no calculation, blinded by hot tears and rage. “I told you to be quiet while I’m in combat. We’ll stop this.”

  “Twenty-five percent of the way to complete structural damage.”

  “SHUT UP!”

  My lasers had overheated from the spam, leaving me no options as they cooled down. I continued on an aimless journey, dispensing my missiles in a desperate act—despite the blinking warning that they had no targets in range. Wetness rolled down my cheeks, a despair only felt by those who lost everything they knew. I hated the tin can’s conclusions. I hated The Gap for exposing us to existential threats from this side: the fucking Elusians made it! I hated Larimak for his sadism and what he’d done to me…hated myself for not doing enough to stop him.

  “Preston?” Mikri prompted.

  My lasers came back online, but I barely had the heart to shoot off another round. “How much damage?”

  “Fifty-nine percent.”

  A few more seconds ticked by, as I failed to respond, going through the motions of fighting. “Sofia, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I thought that maybe…”

  “Preston,” her voice responded, cracking and fraught with horror. “You did nothing wrong. You’re a good man…and a good soldier. Humanity sent the best. Turn around. Come home.”

  “I…not as long as Sol stands. Get me a feed of the Space Gate. I…want to see it.”

  I was hardly paying attention to my own peril, uncertain why I listened to a shudder in my fingers that told me to sidestep a round heading for my fighter. There wouldn’t be anything left living for, in a few seconds. Mikri cast the security footage of the Space Gate onto the screen, and I wept like a blubbering baby as I saw it caving in its center. The numbers were there on screen: eighty-nine percent damage. A part of my brain wanted to believe that somehow, it wouldn’t happen.

  “The mercy is that the people on Earth won’t know it’s coming,” Sofia said, almost to herself. “We didn’t get a message back. It’ll be over in a split second. Painless.”

  I sniffled. “Not painless for us!”

  “You know that I will always comfort you, though that is clearly inadequate for the weight of your emotions. So long as the Vascar live, we will continue your memory,” Mikri stated. “I do not know if you will find ‘closure’ in watching. Those tiny camera drones are accelerating, and they…only have to clear 670 million miles per hour, which is a fraction of their capabilities.”

  “One of those microscopic fucking specks will do us in? It can’t be, Mikri. It can’t be!”

  My brain was still in denial as dozens of missiles bashed into the last Space Gate seal; the top corner was chipped away, before the rest collapsed. ESU ships were fighting around us, mowing down Larimak’s vessels in rapid succession, but it wasn’t enough. The Asscar prince had won, and I couldn’t square that away in my head with our earlier dominance. We had grown complacent with our new powers. There should’ve been some way we could’ve been on guard further out…if the Space Force had more ships.

  Even an android had said there were no viable defensive strategies on the circumstance. It didn’t much matter anyway, because humanity couldn’t go back and change how we safeguarded this worthless portal. I locked my eyes onto the screen, and waited for the moment of my dimension’s eradication to play out. My hands were off the controls of my ship, finally being logical enough to see that I was powerless.

  Only visible as a line Mikri traced for me, a camera drone zipped through the crack in the final seal, clocking in at speeds that would carry infinite energy in Sol. It would travel on until it collided with any particle, and destroyed all that we knew. The herald of destruction vanished through The Gap in a flash, leaving me to hold my head in my hands and grapple with mankind’s novel extinction.