Captain Bub Stellar had seen stranger things than a glowing cube materializing on his bridge, but not many.
"Shields up! Max!" Commander Thorne's hand was already on her blaster, her body coiled like a spring. The bridge crew of the UES Pathfinder scrambled to their stations, but Stellar raised a hand.
"Stand down. If this is a weapon, we'd already be dead." He stood from his command chair, studying the object floating three feet above the deck plating. It was perfectly smooth, about the size of a basketball, and pulsed with a soft amber light that seemed to come from within. "Commander Clark, analysis?"
Clark was already on his console, his expression calm. "No radiation signatures. No active weaponry. No detectable power source, which is... impossible, given that it's currently defying gravity." He looked up with a slight smirk. "It's also broadcasting a localized quantum entanglement field. Someone wants to talk to us, Captain. And they have excellent timing. I was just getting bored."
"How localized?"
"This bridge. Only this bridge." Clark's fingers paused. "It's been scanning us. Cataloging our biometrics, neural patterns..."
The cube chimed, a sound like crystal bells, and a holographic figure bloomed into existence above it. The being was vaguely humanoid, but that's where the similarity ended. Its skin, or what passes for it, shifted through colors like a kaleidoscope, and its three eyes were arranged in a triangle pattern across its face. When it spoke, the universal translator in Stellar's ear struggled for a moment before catching up.
"Greetings, Captain Stellar of Earth. I am Facilitator Nexus-Seven of The Confluence. Your species has been observed. Your species has been evaluated. Your species has been found... interesting." The figure's mouth, or what passes for it, curved into something that might have been a smile. "You are cordially invited to attend The Confluence's 7,432nd Session, to commence in fourteen standard cycles at the coordinates now being transmitted to your vessel."
"On Earth, you ask permission before you board a man's ship." Stellar said, stepping closer, sighing. "What exactly is The Confluence?"
"The Confluence is the great market. The forum of exchange. The place where civilizations meet on neutral ground to trade that which cannot be traded elsewhere." Nexus-Seven's form rippled. "Technology. Resources. Information. Futures. You will find much that your Earth requires, Captain. We have been watching your species' expansion into the frontier. So... ambitious. So hungry for the stars. We can help with that hunger."
Behind him, Stellar heard the familiar shuffle of Professor Carmelon's arrival on the bridge. The old man always seemed to appear when things got intellectually interesting. Mitchell, his bald eagle, sat perched on the professor's shoulder, those sharp eyes fixed on the hologram.
"You said we've been evaluated," Stellar said carefully. "By whom? And for what purpose?"
"By the members of The Confluence, of course. As for purpose..." Nexus-Seven spread what might have been hands. "Every emerging species must be categorized. Assessed. Integrated into the greater galactic economy, or..." The figure paused, and Stellar didn't like that pause one bit. "Or dealt with accordingly."
"Dealt with?" Commander Thorne had moved to Stellar's side, her hand still near her weapon.
"The galaxy is very old, Commander. And very full. Real estate is... limited. Resources are finite. When a new species appears, claiming worlds, consuming resources, broadcasting their presence into the void...decisions must be made about their place in the order of things."
Stellar felt his jaw tighten. "And Earth's place is being decided at this Confluence?"
"Not decided, Captain. Negotiated. There is a dispute regarding your homeworld's... ownership status. The Vescarri Sovereignty has filed a claim. They assert they seeded your planet with the building blocks of life some three billion years ago, and under Confluence Law, this grants them primary salvage and development rights." Nexus-Seven's form flickered. "You are invited to contest this claim. Or to negotiate terms for your species' continued occupation of the Sol system."
The bridge went silent. Stellar could hear the ambient hum of the ship's systems, the soft beep of monitoring equipment, his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.
"You're telling me," he said slowly, "that someone is trying to auction off Earth?"
"The Confluence does not 'auction,' Captain. We facilitate transactions between parties with competing interests. Very civilized. Very legal. Your species will be given every opportunity to establish your claim to your homeworld. Provided, of course, that you can meet the burden of proof required under galactic law."
Mitchell squawked suddenly, sharp and loud. Carmelon adjusted his glasses, his eyes bright despite his age. "The bird is agitated. He senses deception, Captain."
Nexus-Seven's attention snapped to Mitchell, and for the first time, the facilitator seemed surprised. "Remarkable. A Haliaeetus leucocephalus with enhanced cognitive function. How... resourceful. But I assure you, Professor, there is no deception here. The Confluence operates under strict protocols of honesty in all our dealings. We must, or we would have no clients."
"Then let me be honest," Stellar said. "We'll consider your Confluence. I'm curious to hear what this Sovereignty has to say. But Earth isn't for sale, trade, or negotiation. It's ours. It's been ours since the first human looked up at the stars and wondered what was out there."
"A sentiment," Nexus-Seven said, "but not a legal argument. I suggest you bring more than sentiment to The Confluence, Captain. The Vescarri Sovereignty's claim is supported by geological evidence, genetic records, and three billion years of documented terraforming data. What evidence do you have that supersedes their investment in your world?"
Clark spoke up from his station. "Captain, I'm detecting..."
The cube flared brightly, and Nexus-Seven began to fade. "The coordinates are in your system. Fourteen cycles, Captain Stellar. Do not be late. And do come prepared to negotiate. The Vescarri Sovereignty is offering quite generous terms for humanity's relocation to a designated preserve world. You would maintain your culture, your autonomy within your designated space. Many species would consider it a kindness."
"And if we refuse?" Thorne asked.
The hologram was nearly gone now, but its final words hung in the air like smoke. "Then the Confluence will make its determination without your input. We find it is always better to have a seat at the table, Commander. The alternative is to be what's on the menu."
The cube vanished with a soft pop of displaced air, leaving only the faint smell of ozone.
Stellar turned to find his bridge crew staring at him. "A kindness, they said."
Thorne looked ready to punch something. Clark was already running calculations, his expression somewhere between amused and deeply concerned. Carmelon was stroking Mitchell's feathers, murmuring to the bird in low tones. At the helm, Lieutenant Reeves sat frozen, his hands still on the navigation controls.
"Well," Stellar said, settling back into his command chair. "I suppose we should call New Mansfield. The Admiral is going to love this."
"Captain," Clark said, "if the Vescarri Sovereignty's claim is legitimate under galactic law..."
"Then galactic law is about to meet Earth law, Commander. And the first law of Earth is that nobody owns us but us." Stellar smiled, but there was steel in it. "Clark, plot a course to these coordinates. Thorne, I want a full security analysis of everything we know about neutral grounds and diplomatic protocols. Carmelon, you're with me. We need to figure out how to prove that Earth belongs to humanity."
"And if we can't prove it?" Thorne asked.
Stellar's smile widened. "Then we'll do what humans have always done when someone tries to take our home, Commander. We'll fight for it."
Mitchell launched from Carmelon's shoulder, circling the bridge once before landing on Stellar's command chair. The eagle's talons gripped the headrest, and those intelligent eyes fixed on the captain with an intensity that always unnerved him slightly.
"The bird agrees with you," Carmelon said, moving closer. "Though I suspect Mitchell's definition of 'fighting' and yours may differ considerably." The professor pulled a small tablet from his jacket pocket, already scrolling through data. "Three billion years of terraforming records. That's not a trivial claim, Captain. If they can prove genetic manipulation on that scale—"
"Can they?" Stellar asked.
"Theoretically? Yes. We've known for decades that Earth's evolutionary path had some... peculiar acceleration points. The Cambrian explosion, for instance. The sudden appearance of complex life forms with no apparent transitional fossils." Carmelon's fingers paused. "We always attributed it to gaps in the fossil record. But if someone was actively seeding genetic material, guiding evolution..."
"That's a hell of a long game," Thorne said. She'd finally moved her hand away from her blaster, but her posture remained coiled, ready. "Three billion years of investment just to claim ownership now? Why wait until we're space-faring?"
Clark turned from his console with a wry smile. "Because that's when we became valuable. A pre-spaceflight civilization is just potential. But now? We have technology, infrastructure, a trained population capable of complex tasks. We've already done the work of development." His tone darkened slightly. "We're not raw materials anymore. We're a finished product. And apparently, someone's ready to collect."
The implications of that settled over the bridge like a weighted blanket. Stellar could see it in his crew's faces. The realization that humanity might be nothing more than a crop that had finally ripened.
"Sir," Lieutenant Hayes spoke up from communications, her voice uncertain. "Should I... should I open a channel to Earth Command?"
Stellar considered. Admiral Chen would want to know immediately. The United Earth Council would need to convene. There would be debates, committees, emergency sessions. Politicians would posture. Military leaders would prepare for conflicts they didn't understand against enemies they'd never seen. And all of it would take time they might not have.
Fourteen cycles. Roughly two weeks in Earth standard time.
"Not yet, Lieutenant," Stellar said finally. "First, I want to know exactly what we're walking into. Clark, dig up everything in our database about galactic law, neutral trading zones, anything that might give us context. Thorne, contact our diplomatic corps, discreetly. See if anyone has heard whispers about this Confluence. Carmelon, I need you to review Earth's geological and genetic record. Find me something, anything, that contradicts their claim."
He stood, and Mitchell flapped back to Carmelon's shoulder with an indignant screech.
"Reeves, prepare to plot the course Commander Clark provides. And Hayes, get me a secure line to Engineering. I want Chief Ramos to know we might need every bit of power she can squeeze out of those engines before this is over."
"And someone get me everything we have on the Vescarri Sovereignty," Stellar continued. "If they think they own Earth, I want to know who they are before we sit down at their table."
"Our table, Captain," Clark said with a slight grin. "Nexus-Seven said this was neutral ground."
"Commander," Stellar replied, his voice hard as vacuum, "there's no such thing as neutral ground when someone's trying to take your home."
"Sir!" Lieutenant Hayes's voice cut through the bridge, sharp with alarm. "I'm picking up another transmission. It's... it's not like the cube. This one's coming through standard channels, but it's encoded with Earth military encryption. Old encryption. Pre-expansion protocols."
Stellar moved to her station. "Source?"
Hayes feverishly flying through her console, her face pale. "Brace yourself, Captain.
According to the transmission header, it's coming from the UES Prometheus."
The bridge went silent.
The Prometheus had been Earth's first deep-space exploration vessel. It had disappeared seventy years ago with all hands lost somewhere in uncharted space. Stellar's own grandfather had served on that ship, and the crew knew it.
"That's impossible," Thorne said.
"Play it," Stellar ordered.
Static filled the bridge, then a voice, crackling, desperate, barely human through the distortion: "This is Captain Sarah Makinen of the United Earth Ship Prometheus broadcasting an emergency distress. If anyone receives this message, do not, I repeat, DO NOT attend The Confluence. It's a trap. They don't negotiate. They don't trade. They harvest. We tried to prove Earth's claim and they..."
The message dissolved into static, then cut off completely.
Hayes worked frantically at her console. "That's all there is, sir. The transmission just... stopped."
Stellar stared at the blank screen, his grandfather's name, James, echoing in his mind. Captain Sarah Makinen had been his grandfather's captain, lost with the Prometheus seventy years ago. His grandfather had been the ship's first officer.
"Captain," Clark said softly, the humor gone from his voice, "we need to make a decision. Do we still go to The Confluence?"
Before Stellar could answer, Mitchell released a sound unlike anything the eagle had ever made. A low, guttural warning that raised the hairs on the back of every human neck on the bridge.
Carmelon's hand steadied the bird on his shoulder, his weathered face grave. "Captain... the bird has never been wrong. And right now, he's telling us that message was the absolute truth."