Red Dawn
The crimson dawn bled across the desolate plains of Krypton. Towering spires of crystalline metal cast long shadows, their once gleaming facades now flecked with cracks and imperfections. Some from the short-lived civil war, most from the seismic events and increasingly corrosive atmosphere created from eruptions that blighted the planets surface. A sudden hush fell over the city, a stark contrast to the usual hum of energy reactors from days past. Today was the day Krypton would fall.
Hidden within an abandoned cavernous hangar, nestled amongst deactivated mining drones, an ancient scout ship hummed faintly. Its obsidian, weathered hull had been subtly modified, concealing advanced technology incongruous to its ancient origins. Inside, a singular fully developed gene seed was almost ready to be plucked, its silhouette showing through – Tor Od. Beside it, a holographic figure flickered into existence, momentarily stunned. It resembled a humanoid but lacked physical form, composed entirely of shimmering blue energy.
As a powerful tremor rocked the hangar, the figure snapped to attention. "... I am, Kalar," its voice soft, yet synthesized. "All systems nominal. Core destabilisation imminent. Orbital defences... offline. Initiating launch". The figure flickered out as a previously invisible door in the wall slid open, revealing a floating robotic aid, its metalic pointillist interface morphing into Kalar's face.
Kalar, the AI tasked with the gene seeds', no, Tor Od's protection, quietly ran through thousands of routines, noting a curious previous launch of an unknown class ship as it perused various logs accumulated in its memory. Its directives were clear: ensure the child's survival. But who had entrusted them with this mission remained a mystery. From its onboard archives, there was no House of Od in the registry. No matter. The mission came first. A surge of energy rippled through the scout ship, momentarily disrupting its internal systems. Alarms blared, red lights flashing in the confined space.
"Warning," the ship's subsystem announced, its voice devoid of emotion. "Planetary destabilization detected. Recommend immediate departure." Kalar was already in motion, loading navigation solutions before the first word was out, quickly plucking Tor from the Genesis vine, even as it willed the scout ship onward.
With a shudder and a surge of power, the ship launched, initiating an in-atmosphere jump. Just as it pierced through the veil of space, Krypton erupted in a blinding flash. Kalar, seemingly indifferent to the magnitude of loss below, steered the vessel blindly into the inky void, buffeted by Kryptons destruction and quietly struggled to keep the ship running until they were clear.
___
Days bled into weeks, weeks into years. The scout ship, lacking a complement of automated repair drones of its modern counterparts, drifted through the unfamiliar cosmos, Kalar its tireless caretaker. After securing Tor in stasis, it meticulously repaired damaged systems, churning with calculations as it scanned for a habitable planet. Its pre-loaded system charts had become useless the moment they immerged here. Finally, after decades of relentless work, the sub-light engines hummed back to life.
"Sub-light propulsion systems operational," Kalar announced to itself, its tone strangely satisfied and more lifelike than when it first activated. "Initiating active planetary search protocols. Deep space probes and relays would have been nice to have on a scout ship." Kalar lamented.
The search stretched on, an eternity measured in the slow crawl of time. Just when Kalar began to question the possibility of success, a faint signal flickered on the scanners. Kalar focussed. A planet, eerily similar to one of their original destinations – Earth – emerged right on the edge of perception, but with a crucial difference.
"Compatible biosphere detected," the ship announced. A flicker of something akin to hope rippled across Kalar's display. "Life forms identified. Technological signature minimal. Presence of anomalous energy detected."
Kalar trained the ships complete scanner array on the newly discovered planet, accessing its vast database, searching for information on this world and its unknown energy source and drew a blank. No record existed of this energy nor of a civilization that harnessed it in such a novel way. As they drew closer, resolving ever more detail, Kalar was fascinated on how they seemingly used that energy to cultivate warriors of unimaginable prowess and creatures of formidable might.
A dilemma arose. This world, while suitable for sustaining Tor's life, but this energy was an unknown variable. Kalar's programming prioritized Tor Od's safety, but the presence of a civilization wielding such power presented a risk. Yet, the alternative was returning to the endless expanse of space, keeping Tor in suspended animation. Kalar considered for a moment and decided. "Lets get a closer look."
The ship shimmered and vanished to the naked eye. "Initiating descent protocol," Kalar finally declared. "Ocean region of Planet X-77 designated landing zone."
The scout ship quietly plunged towards the blue and green planet, a vessel carrying a sleeping survivor and an uncertain future. Kalar floated towards Tor's stasis pod, thousands of metalic points morphing into a face, eyes gently looking down at the sleeping infant. "I must ensure your survival, my programming compels it. But an eternal dreamless sleep isn't quite living, is it young Tor. I... I want to see it. The heights you will climb to, the paths you will pick, all of it. I want to see you live!"