The Falcon glided through the star-speckled void like a silent ghost.
After its initial burst of acceleration, pushing its speed up to 482 kilometers per second, the spacecraft jettisoned its rear thrusters like a shedding snake skin. Now, it relied on compressed gas jets for fine steering, invisible adjustments made against the backdrop of infinite black.
The target lay a staggering 417 astronomical units away from the Hope—about 62.4 billion kilometers, a distance so vast that even light itself took over two days to make the journey back and forth.
At the Falcon's velocity, it would take four years to reach its destination.
This was interstellar travel.
In this scale, even the smallest scouting mission stretched into multi-year endeavors. Every battle, every exploration, became an exercise in patience and endurance.
For perspective, the farthest known boundary of the Solar System—Pluto's orbit in the Kuiper Belt—was a mere 60 astronomical units away. The mission they embarked on now transcended anything humanity had ever attempted.
Four Years Later
The Falcon's camera feed flickered to life as it approached the designated coordinates, capturing a celestial body set against the endless canvas of stars.
Kael Virek leaned forward, his sharp eyes analyzing the grainy image beamed back to the Hope. The enormous sphere had a near-perfect roundness, impossible to mistake for a small asteroid or moon.
Elara's synthetic voice chimed in beside him.
"We estimate the radius of this body at 8,426 kilometers," she said with measured precision. "Surface area approximates 892 million square kilometers—three hundred eighty million more than Earth. Volume calculated at approximately 2.5 trillion cubic kilometers. Surface gravity stands at 11.05 meters per second squared."
A rogue planet—massive and solitary—drifting far from any parent star. Kael's mind raced with questions.
How did such a planet lose its orbit? What cosmic event had set it adrift in the dark gulf between stars?
But the most pressing question was far more immediate.
How could any form of life, let alone civilization, survive in such a cold void?
The surface temperature of the planet's surroundings was measured at a staggering -261.8 degrees Celsius—colder than any cryogenic hibernation chamber known to science. Atoms slow, electrons almost frozen, and chemistry as we understood it nearly impossible.
Scientists on Earth often believed life could only flourish within the warm habitable zones around stars. Yet here was a world challenging every preconception.
Elara continued scanning the data.
"Outer space near the planet is warmer than expected, measured at -198.3 degrees Celsius. This implies a significant internal heat source—most likely a geologically active core."
Two Weeks Later
Another message arrived from the Falcon—now closer to the planet's surface.
"Surface scans confirm numerous active volcanoes and extensive geothermal activity," Elara reported, bringing up an image shrouded in haze and shadow.
Kael's eyes narrowed as he examined the fuzzy outlines of giant craters scattered across the terrain. Nearby, irregular shapes hinted at the presence of structures—ruins or perhaps inhabited buildings.
"This civilization harnesses geothermal energy," Elara observed. "They've adapted to this extreme environment by tapping the planet's internal heat."
Geothermal civilizations were unheard of in human experience. Earth had volcanoes, yes, but the scale was nowhere near enough to sustain a civilization dependent solely on volcanic energy.
But this rogue planet, larger than Earth and with a violently active core, offered an environment where geothermal energy was abundant—and essential for survival.
Kael swiped through the images. He noticed subtle changes between the pictures sent a fortnight apart—small dots now visible in the blackness of space surrounding the planet.
"Zoom in on those points," he commanded.
As Elara focused, the hazy specks resolved into shapes—spaceships. Hundreds, maybe over a thousand.
"They're mobilizing," Kael said grimly. "Preparing to sweep the sky… to find us."
Why else would they amass such a fleet, especially now?
One Week Later
The final message from the Falcon arrived just before its sudden silence.
"Elara, analyze the laser coordinates that destroyed the Falcon," Kael said.
The AI's voice was calm but factual.
"The attacks originated from major volcanic craters, indicating that the civilization is highly reliant on geothermal hotspots. Surface temperatures remain below -100 degrees Celsius in most regions. Population estimates range between 100 and 500 million."
A small population, yet highly adapted.
Elara continued, "Their limited population likely hinders the population-driven technological acceleration typical on Earth. Energy sources are primarily geothermal and nuclear, with no evidence of controlled fusion technology. Magnetic technology appears underdeveloped."
Kael's mind pieced the puzzle together.
"They're a Level 1 civilization—early industrial at best. Their technology level has not surged because their energy base is limited. Their lasers are an innovation born of necessity—the need to illuminate the darkness."
He pondered his options.
"To cripple an enemy civilization, two strategies are clear: restrict their energy and block their scientific advancement."
"Elara, what do you suggest?"
After a moment's pause, Elara responded, "Disrupting technological progress is complex. Without understanding the trajectory of their scientific development, attempts could backfire. However, limiting energy access is straightforward and effective."
Kael nodded.
"Their geothermal civilization depends on an active planetary core. If we can cool the core, their energy supply will collapse, stalling their growth and possibly forcing societal collapse."
A bold plan unfolded on the Hope's screens.
They called it the Absolute Zero weapon—a device designed to chill a planet's core to near absolute zero, freezing atomic particles, drastically slowing fission processes that powered the core's heat.
Theoretically impossible with current human tech—energy requirements exceeded that of entire galaxies.
Yet Kael's team had found a way to approach this impossible ideal.
While they could not reach absolute zero, they could slow atomic movement enough to significantly cool the core, potentially freezing their enemy's civilization in time.
The War Begins
"How long to manufacture such a weapon?" Kael asked.
Elara's answer came immediately.
"Twenty-five years to build one."
Kael's eyes flashed.
"Too slow."
"One Absolute Zero device will only cool the core for about 40 years," Elara added. "We need at least ten units to ensure sustained suppression."
No turning back now.
After issuing the production orders, Kael entered his hibernation pod again. He was 41 years old—a middle age in a war that would span decades.
When he awoke, the war would have begun.