This is a fan translation of Line of Dreams (Линия грёз) by the Russian science fiction and fantasy author Sergei Lukyanenko. The novel can be considered a fan fiction of the original Master of Orion game.


Chapter 8

The cargo hauler with frozen meat arrived at the orbital base several hours ahead of schedule. The officer of the watch silently cursed the pilot, who had seemingly thought of himself a racer, as there were no free docks on the landing deck. But it was pointless trying to explain the concept of punctuality to civilians. The freelancer pilot could easily just dump the cargo container and take his old tug "down", to the simple pleasures of Dogar.

The officer gave out orders to tow a passenger shuttle, which had been waiting for an Endorian tour group for two days, to the holding area, and stared at the screen grimly. The decades of peace had turned the military station into God knew what: a halfway station for civilian ships, an orbital warehouse, a cheap parking garage for tight-fisted pilots…

The cargo hauler docked with a surprising ease. As if the huge container with lamb was empty or it wasn't there at all.

The officer glanced at the control panel, which was showing that everything was in order. The pilot had replied to the required queries, told them his ID number and the standard password, named the verification code, and even had purple clearance. More than enough.

After a moment's hesitation, the officer requested red clearance. The cargo hauler's auto-reply module lingered for a second and then sent the required information. A minute later, it obediently showed its white clearance.

The officer was still pondering how a civilian cargo hauler knew something that only cruiser-type warships were supposed to know, and whether it was too good to be true, when blasts rang out on the landing deck.


The Meklar left the boat first, followed by the twin flunkies, whose names Kay hadn't bothered to ask. It was foolish to allow oneself to feel even a shadow of humane attitude towards pawns.

Dutch jumped out of the hatch and, even before he touched the scratched tiles, heard a shot. The Meklar, who needed no external weaponry, had fired his plasma generator.

"Phew!" the flames sighed, covering a feverishly twitching spider-like machine. Unfortunately, each dock of the military base was required to have a robotic guard. Just as unfortunately, it had clearly sounded the alarm.

"Let's fly!" one of the twins shouted. The ancient cry of pilots on suicide missions had come off surprisingly absurd, but the burst of laser shots smoothed out the impression. The Family's fighter carefully swept every corner of the hangar with his laser beam, as that was the typical place for internal monitoring sensors. Clouds of steam appeared, caused by moisture, which had condensed during the opening of the airlock, evaporating.

The second flunky ran around the perimeter of the boat in a businesslike manner and then froze. The fusion rifle in his hands was twitching its barrel slightly; it appeared to be an intelligent model.

"Kas/s/is, the door!" Kay ordered unnecessarily. The Meklar, who currently resembled a rearing six-legged horse, was already looming over the armored plate.

Tommy appeared from inside the boat, which looked like an old cargo hauler. His armor, which was currently programmed to follow Kay, went up to Dutch and stopped precisely behind him. The boy was staring at the burning robot through the blue ice of the armored glass.

Seemingly without any effort from Kas/s/is, the door started sliding into the floor. As soon as there was a half-a-meter opening, the Meklar altered his transformation and leapt through it. There was a noise on the other side.

The cyborg was the last to emerge from the boat. He came up to the door, slowly but so purposefully that he reached it just as it finally opened. Beyond the door was a wide well-lit hallway that led to the base's warehouses. The Meklar was standing five meters from the door with a motionless human body lying in front of his forelimbs. Blue flashes of a firing neuroemitter were competing with the blue light of the ceiling lamps. Kas/s/is was covering them with the barrage.

There was no need to discuss anything. The twins were already running down the hallway, the Meklar moving between them like a miniature tank. Kay was following them; the Seraph was carrying the two hundred kilograms of its own weight with the grace of a young Bulrathi. The Excalibur, issued to Kay just before the take-off, felt weightless in the manipulators of the powered armor. Judging by the appearance alone, it seemed to be a fairly standard emitter, maybe neutrino or tachyon, only the monstrously thick barrel did not seem typical for a human weapon.

Dutch genuinely hoped that not everything Seiker had told him about the Excalibur was a joke.


The last images captured by the hangar's cameras threw the officer into a state of shock.

The guard robot was burning, a Meklar was frozen over the door, and humans in powered armor were firing at the security sensors.

Punching the general alarm button, the officer shouted, "The base is under attack! Cargo dock 17 has been breached!"

The junior flight control officer of the watch was already running towards him from the auxiliary controls. It was a reg violation, but now was not the time to react to his colleague's mistake. The officer was rapidly answering the questions appearing on the screen. The base's main computer was running an attack repulsion program, and every bit of information could be crucial.

"Entry under disguise…"

A passenger shuttle heading for the base was forced to alter course under the threat of immediate destruction.

"Meklars and humans…"

All alien quarters were locked. A Meklar, busy working out at the gym, was given an order over radio to assume a submissive posture, and an automated turret locked him in as a target.

"Heavy weapons, powered armor…"

The arsenal's red sector was unlocked.

"Number of attackers unknown…"

Everyone with a right to bear arms was contacted.

"Refusing to communicate…"

The door to the control room exploded, covering the consoles with the shrapnel of melted steel. The officer had time to notice a human figure, bulky from its powered armor, before a stream of fire filled the room.

The guard robot, whose line of fire was blocked by the junior flight control officer's burning body, made the only proper decision. A plasma shot ended the man's suffering and struck the attacker's armor.

The Seraph held against the blow, but the flunky wasn't able to stay on his feet. He was thrown away from the door, dragged along the floor, and slammed into a wall. For a moment, the Family's flunky lay motionless. Then, with a quiet giggling, he rose to his feet. Flames were raging in the room past the mangled door opening. The armor's servomotors were now louder than normal, and the movements of his left leg became slightly clumsy, but those were minor annoyances, not worth mentioning.