"The Earth is the cradle of the mind. But one cannot eternally live in a cradle."-unknown

The deck rocked as a large explosion was heard in the far off regions of the ship.

Damage control officer Mac yelled out from his pit on the bridge. "Sir, our secondary fuel tank is gone!"

Mahan the Omnipotent gave him an angry glance before returning to his cockpit controls. "Well then switch to the tertiary ones! We're almost at the checkpoint anyway!"

Mission control over at Kell wasn't content with maintaining an empire in the middle of the Orion galactic spiral arm. Ever since the invention of the wormhole key, a device letting a ship enter wormholes through a protective bubble of warped space, the Leko empire has wanted to get to the center of the galaxy. Then again, every empire has wanted to get to the center of the galaxy. And all have failed, every single one.

Let us count the reasons why no intergalactic empire has ever made it to the galactic core. First, an intelligent species has to develop on its homeworld and create space flight, which is a mammoth task that very few species (relative to the stars in the galaxy) have ever pulled off. Then, this species has to become technologically advanced enough both to maintain its own empire and obtain the wormhole key. Then you have to go on an epic odyssey across the stars, and just when you think you're in the clear, yet more obstacles pop up. The black hole in the center of the galaxy has such force that its gravity will warp the strength of any hyperdrive; this makes travel more and more difficult the closer you get.

Oh, and then you have the Grox.

The Grox…just saying that name fills any knowledgeable galactic citizen with fear. They are a repto-mammalian species that, by all standards, are incredibly frail; the only way they ever became the top of the food chain on their homeworld is because of their incredible natural aptitude for machines and adaptation. Now, the Grox are a race of cyborgs, dependent on mass cloning and bionics to keep their population expanding. They are fierce, cruel, innately hostile, and the creators of technology that puts the entire sum of the rest of the galaxy's scientists to shame. Oxygen is toxic to them, so they deform all the planets they colonize, stripping them of life. The empire they rule owns planets in the thousands, every last one protected by a trained military garrison. And every last Grox individual, whatever the reason, is hell-bent on keeping everyone else away from the galactic core.

And ironically, the fact that a massive race of bloodthirsty cyborgs would go to the trouble of guarding the galactic core just makes the core all that more mysterious, and therefore appealing.

So despite the overwhelming danger, why would any right-minded person even try to get to the core? Maybe it's because that since black holes form small tunnels in intergalactic space, the supper massive black hole at the galactic core would form a tunnel that could not just warp space, but time, and it could be the gateway to a whole load of things. Maybe it's because that since the Grox are going to so much trouble to quarantine the core, there might be something in there of incredible power. And of course, to say that you made it to the black hole at all gives you more bragging rights than anyone else in the known universe.

And well, those reasons seemed good enough for the Leko empire. Following population growth and technological development since the first manned spacecraft departed from planet Kell tens of thousands of years ago, the governing council finally agreed to fund an expedition to galactic core a mere 60 years ago. Then-commodore Mahan was picked as the teams' leader, and a crew of 1005 was picked from the most experienced people in the empire. They were all given 60 years of training (medical science and genetics can extend a Leko's lifespan to 200 years) and packed onto a state-of-the-art "Star Rider" class spacecraft. And after packing 50 years worth of provisions onto the ship, as well as a few colony incredi-pacs for setting up refueling bases and some spice for trading with friendly empires on the way, the ship left port.

And here they were. Mahan had piloted his ship all the way to within 50 parsecs of the center of everything only to have 4 Grox warships on his tail. His ship was huge carrier, big enough to accommodate the crew, provisions, tools, systems, weapons bays, and everything else a modern ship would have. Only 800 of the crew was left, since 200 were left behind to set up forts on 2 conquered Grox worlds, while 5 of the crew had perished while taking those worlds. Not a single Leko had died until the expedition encountered the Grox, not even when they ran into an alliance of 3 Spode-crazed zealot empires in the Koornchat star cluster.

The Grox ships would keep firing at the Star Rider even as it was in hyperspace, meaning the crew had been fighting for their lives for nearly a full month. Mahan knew that only 50 parsecs of space stood between him what was apparently the meaning of everything

The mega-auto-turret gunners were furiously hyper-shooting lead at the pursuers. One of the Grox ships took several rounds to the cockpit, and it spiraled out of control into the walls of the hyperspace tunnel, obliterating into nonexistence. Mahan pulled his ship into the Korhal star system only to face yet another armada of Grox fresh from the airfields of their colony.

The tertiary fuel was online by this point, and Mahan ordered his ship to make another jump.

"Only 30 parsecs to go, men! Jump to the Welka star system, heading 003-337 degrees!"

"On it, sir!" Yelled engine master Kellion. He turned some knobs, pressed some buttons, and slammed his fist on the hyperspace activator.

The outside world blurred, and the Space Rider leapt into its sub-space bubble, hurtling toward the core. 3 Grox cruisers gave chase, blasting hyper-proton missiles (they have an odd affection for the things) and pulse blasts.

Suddenly there was another loud crash, and the lights on the ship momentarily flickered. Mac had a horrified look on his face. "Hull integrity compromised! Our starboard side took a direct hit!"

Mahan hit the mega-repair pack button. The ship unleashed a wad of pseudo-metallic gel from its cargo hold into the wounded hull, and it hardened into a new component of the ship. He sighed, thinking over his current condition with the lightning speed granted by his training.

Whoever thought of repair packs was the greatest person who ever lived.

After an hour of interdimensional slugging, and after 2 of the Grox ships exited hyperspace to refuel and lick their wounds, Mahan and his crew reached the Welka system. It was a binary system, with two yellow stars orbiting each other in a graceful interstellar dance. There was a teal planet in orbit, certainly inhabited by the Grox, with an asteroid belt hugging its orbit.

Mahan stared at his sensors harder. That's not an asteroid belt…that's a star dock! Grox military base!

Suddenly innumerable ships broke from the planets orbit, bearing the signature black hull and streamlined design of a Grox warship. Mahan ordered hyperspace yet again, this time within range of the core. He was making a mad run for it. Plus, he had one repair pack left, so he couldn't stay and fight.

The final dash wasn't really a dash, unless mad dashes count as 5-hour slugfests between a single cruiser and dozens of heavily armed weapons of war. Mahan kept damage under extreme control, exhausting his reserves of minor repair packs. Suddenly the hyperspace tunnel broke off, and the ship reached the destination.

The same destination of countless civilizations throughout time immemorial.

The destination that would bring enlightenment, glory, and inconceivable greatness to his empire. Mahan and his crew had finally reached the galactic core.

And God, it was a beautiful thing.

Infinite cosmic matter was being drawn into the black hole's maw. The energy of a thousand suns being sucked into the great mass warped the field of view, and when Mahan stared directly at the thing, all he saw was a large white void. Every last person on the huge ship took a moment to stare at it in awe before resuming duty.

The craft initiated the wormhole key and began to dive into the portal. The Grox ships, which (as weapons of war) didn't have individual wormhole keys, kept chase. They were determined to keep these people away, even if it meant getting sucked into the infinite.

Mahan's shelled fingers tore at his armrests. "Steady! How much longer to target?"

Co-pilot Mensa glanced at his computer screen. "1 minute to impact!"

The enemy cruisers launched a punishing barrage of missiles, which swung around the black hole's field of gravity before attempting to hit the Star Rider. It started taking hits.

"30 seconds to impact!!"

Mahan activated the last mega-repair pack he had right as the ship was about to fall apart. The ships still kept chase.

"15 seconds to impact!!"

Suddenly things began to warp. Not just the core, and everything outside the ship, but everything inside began to warp too. Mahan's field of vision slid in and out of proportion.

"5 seconds to impact!!"

The Grox ships disappeared, sucked into the infinite gravity, their missiles pathetically struggling to launch before slamming back into the launchers. Things started to fade and flicker. Everyone's field of view distorted, and they felt themselves distort. The fabric of space and time was being damaged in the very space they were filling.

Mensa attempted to yell out that impact was imminent, but the sound never came, simply being torn to noise as the medium it traveled in warped and distorted.

A buzzing sound filled the air, starting out as a quiet whine, but rising to the point where everyone on board heard nothing but a loud droning roar.

All things suddenly disappeared. The buzzing stopped, and there was absolutely nothing but silence. Mahan could only hear his consciousness…had he died? Where was he?

…

What just happened?

********

Suddenly a huge boom filled Mahan's mind, and a brilliant display of color filled the void.

"Greetings, my friend! You have traveled very far, and overcome many obstacles."

This voice boomed in Mahan's awareness, coming from everywhere. The tunnel of light surrounded everything. He could see many colors, some of which were outside of his mortal range of vision-beautiful colors he had never seen before.

"Along the way you have encountered many of your diverse, far-flung siblings; precious few of them will make it this far."

Marhan struggled to get out a "Who are you?" but could attempt nothing. It's as though his entire existence was reduced to his mere psychological essence. Plus, he did not want to say anything. He felt like the voice was pushing down on him.

"Your heroic efforts have proven you deserving, worthy of advancement to the next level of your existence. The universe you inhabit is but one of many. Countless worlds, unseen but yet connected."

His mind took in each of the words as though each one had a thousand year's worth of formulation behind it. The voice was booming, omnipresent, laced with what seemed to be omniscient peacefulness. Was…was this the voice of God? The same figure that his kind had argued about throughout their existence? It certainly felt like it…'

"Your creative efforts have not gone unnoticed. Indeed they have spilled into these other, unseen worlds, just as your world has been enriched by them."

The voice enveloped Marhan. Somewhere in his mind was the question of where his crewmates were, or where exactly he was, or what was going on, but he didn't care. The voice was providing all he needed.

"It is now time for you to join us. Join us…mwa ha ha ha HA HA! No, just kidding. It's not scary. Indeed, the times ahead, they are good. Really, really good."

What parts of his brain were still working like they should have emitted a mental smirk. God has a sense of humor, apparently.

"Some of you may ask, who is this mysterious voice who knows so much, and possesses such great powers? I'm glad you asked…"

Suddenly Mahan found himself back in his seat at the bridge, surrounded by his systems operators. Little did he know that everyone on the ship had just gone through what he had, but he was too absorbed in the moment to contemplate it.

After a moment's pause, he mumbled to his star map keeper, "J-J…Jacob? Where the hell are we?" Jacob, hands shaking, stared at his screen. In it was a huge blank.

"Um…nowhere, sir…the navigation is offline."

All the other operators just sat in their chairs, quietly shaking or thinking over what just happened. Mahan looked outside the ship's window, and saw a yawning black void belted with a band of pink gas. What looked like shooting stars dotted the vastness.

Out of the void materialized a small spacecraft. It was shaped like a saucer, with 4 robotic manipulator arms and a large bullhorn on the top. Something came out of the bullhorn, and everyone on the ship heard it, despite the fact that the ship was on the outside and all comm. systems were down.

"I'm Steve!" Said the voice, in a slightly nasal pitch.

Mahan was totally confused. One moment he had been battling the Grox, the next moment achieving the grand goal of all advanced life, the next moment listening to the greatest, most spiritually fulfilling monologue ever heard, and now he was in the middle of nowhere with his loyal crew, listening to some weirdo talk on a bullhorn.

"Can…can you hear us?" Mahan inquired.

"Yes, why wouldn't I be able to?"

"It's just that, eh, you're in a vacuum." Mahan said. "Sound can't travel without a medium."

"You're not even close to a place where the laws of physics apply. You're not even in a place with laws of any kind. Besides, you obviously heard me, so why bother to ask?"

Everyone on the ship gave a slight expression of confusion. Mahan continued.

"Um, ok. Where are we if the laws of physics don't apply?"

"The same place you'll all be in by a few googolplex years, give or take."

Mahan sighed. "Well, who are you?"

"Again, I'm Steve."

"Well who's Steve?"

"I am."

"You have a name other then Steve, don't you?!"

"Well, I have numerous names. To give you hint, have you ever heard of a guy called Spode? He's a close friend of mine. Anyway, you place too much emphasis on names, young prodigal. And you didn't come here to argue."

Mahan glanced downward and continued to converse. Whatever this thing was, it wasn't anything he didn't want to get on the bad side of. Assuming it had a bad side.

"So…you mentioned something about us being ready to join you?"

"Ah yes. I have watched you for quite some time. You have come a long way in 5 billion years."

"Well, yes. We worked especially hard to get here, too."

"I know. You were doing well until people died."

Mahan was slightly alienated at this voice. It knew a lot about him. He wanted to say more.

"Would you mind if I asked you something?"

"Not at all."

"Well the reason people died was because of those accursed Grox. And I was wondering, is there any way we might…"

"What do you mean 'accursed Grox'? What makes them so bad?"

"What do you mean what makes them so bad?! They wipe out entire civilizations over nothing! They are the ones who killed our teammates! They declared war on me when I asked them what their philosophy was!"

"Tell me something. Did I not go over how many there were of your siblings?"

"Yeah…my diverse, far flung ones." Mahan recited.

"Are the Grox not one of them? Was their kind once nothing more than a wretched single cell in a puddle of slime, as your kind was? Their path is nothing more than the response made to the environment that they lived in. Adaptation and survival is what life is all about."

"Adaptation and survival are the concerns of animals!" Mahan bellowed.

"So are you not an animal? Is survival not of your concern? Would it be perfectly fine if I blew your ship to pieces, and your consciousness drifted out to nonexistence? You tell me."

Mahan paused. He had him there. It dawned on him that he was an animal. Albeit, he was an animal that walked upright, used speech, and could pilot a spaceship, but he was no different than the wild doltasaurs back at Kell. In fact, it was instinct more than anything-the instinct to expand and explore-that brought him to this meeting.

"You are no different than any of the other googols of life forms in the expanse of space. Remember, your universe is only one of countless many. And the Grox are another one of the forms of life in these places. They were given a tough scenario, and they mastered it."

"But even if the Grox did adapt, does that mean that what they do is not evil? Is the slaughter of billions not evil?"

"You ask me what evil is. Are morality and malice existent at all? Let me back up a bit to that whole bit about animals…do you think that a blind ozzie thinks it's evil to eat a starving, lost animal? Or is that just instinct, and the right thing to do if the ozzie wants to live?"

"Of course it doesn't think it's bad."

"Ok. Now do you think that its evil for a person to be shot several times in the torso, then be annihilated in a nuclear detonation, for no apparent reason?"

"Of course it is!"

"Why?" Steve bellowed. "Because I used the moniker 'person'? Sentience is an odd thing. As soon as a prodigal figures out how to make fire, the rules change. Apparently. Sentient races tend to think that anything that goes against a sense of order is evil. It happens time after time after time again. Maybe it's because sentient races like to put the universe into categories, and anything that's 'evil' is not wanted."

Mahan was deep in thought. Everything that this Steve said confounded him. It all seemed completely true, but much of it went against his common sense.

Then again, his common sense was just him making decisions based on risk, instinct, and emotion, proving Steve right. Right?

"Good and evil are just words. It's the actions committed and the eye of the beholder that counts. Although, if you want to maximize your survival value, I have noticed that irrational greed and ignorance are two major factors in the spreading of your sentient 'evil'."

Mahan was amazed with Steve. The voice had a slightly nerdy tone, but at the same time it was comforting, it was enveloping, and apparently it was omniscient.

"Well, thank you for that lesson. But I was sent here on a mission from high command back on Kell, so I was kind of hoping to find something here. Not to go against everything that you just said, but…"

"Ah yes. The leadership. You prodigals are adept at organizing, I'll give you that. You don't always make the best decisions, however."

Mahan raised his right eyestalk. "Um...what?"

"What is the purpose of a government but a way to get out of doing work yourself? Let me give you a little history lesson. Back when your species was in the middle of the stone age, the little tribes of Leko didn't have your bureaucratic agencies, or your 'grand council', or anything like that. They were preoccupied with surviving the day. Every tribal society on the planet had a single autocratic ruler. A chieftain, who took both the liberty and the chore of decision-making from the rest of the tribe."

There was a short pause, and Mahan kicked his chair, waiting for more words of wisdom.

"You think that a government is good, but a government gone wrong doesn't take away your chores to society. It takes away your liberty as an individual. And sadly, government can go wrong very, very easily. If I remember correctly, there was this fellow named Oglan who started the beginnings of the republican system of government on your planet."

"You certainly seem to know quite a bit…"

Mahan paused. It dawned on him that he could ask this figure anything.

"Eh…if you know so much…would you mind explaining how life began for us?"

"Sure. A meteor with a chunk of carbon slammed into the crude wad of rock that was your planet and put in both the organic chemicals and the energetic jumpstart that was needed to create life. Natural chemistry led to the first replicating molecules, which became DNA, which became chromosomes. The rest is evolution and societal growth. The end."

Everyone on the ship sat dumbfounded. The ship's captain had a confused look on his face. "That's it? No divine influence? Nothing planned? Nothing remotely special at all?"

"You think that because you're sentient, and that sentience is rare, that something equally special and rare must have lead to your creation. Beware; everything does happen for a reason, but all too often are those reasons misread, guessed wrong, or taken out of context. Also, don't start thinking that your plane of existence is all there is, or that you're bigger then everything. If you trust your senses, you'll notice you're in an entirely different one right now, talking to someone who is part of something very, very big."

"Senses can be fooled."

"Well you've been attentively listening to me so far and you seem deep in conversation and thought. Hearing is a sense, right?"

Mahan sat there, unable to muster a comeback. Everything this entity had said was true, and he knew it, but he still seemed to have a bit of internal doubt. Steve had proven to be an odd figure, but he knew much. Mahan wondered what Steve was doing here in the center of everything, but decided not to ask for fear of a rhetoric.

"So, without going into another moral lesson…what did you say about me joining you?"

"Listen closely, young prodigal (he's using that word quite a bit, isn't he?). You did not make it this far for nothing. For all that I've just said regarding how odd, self-destructive and neurotic life seems to be, know that I care for it. I care for every last living organism that has lived, is living, and ever will live. And there is a grand scheme of things, though despite your obvious technological and philosophical enlightenment, you're still not ready for it. There are still a few things you have to do."

There was total silence on the ship. Everyone tuned their ears, following every word Steve said.

"First, know that the Grox, while another of your existential siblings, play a unique role in existence. You must deal with them. You have a choice: you can ally with them, run away from them, or destroy them, so that no one who attempts the feat you have done will ever run into the Grox again."

"Why? You just said how they are as deserving as any other life form in the universe."

"I have my reasons. Second, I have decided to give you…the power. Yes, that's right, THE POWER. The power to create and spread life, intelligence and understanding throughout the cosmos! Use this power wisely, so that one day we may become as one! That is…I mean…in a metaphorical sense."

As powerful as Steve seemed, he still had a mortal sense of humor. He could also apparently make grammatical errors. Mahan did not question Steve's awkward dialogue and merely asked a question. "You trust that I'll use this power right? What if I mess up, or make my people angry? And if I use it right, they'll be sure to demand more."

"'When you do things right, people won't be sure that you've done anything at all'. I got that off a mortal TV show one night when I was bored. Keep it in mind."

A tractor beam emitted from Steve's ship, and a new item appeared on the ship's cargo bay inventory screen.

"This is the Staff of Life. Use it, and any planet will instantly become, as your ecologists call it, a 'T3' world. A perfect Eden."

"Thank you, um, Steve."

"No problem. Oh, one last thing. You see, my associates and I are nearly sold out on the last phase of a wonderful time-share opportunity on one of our larger stars-and a rare planet in its orbit."

God participates in real estate? Mahan kept this mouth shut and listened carefully.

"After conversing with you, I have made a choice. You can come to our meeting. If you are in the neighborhood, we'd love to have you over for a pancake breakfast and a short presentation. Just look for the third rock from Sol, in the Orion belt."

"Sol? Where's that? I know where the Orion belt is, but it's not like the entirety of space is mapped. "

"That's for me to know and for you to find out. You'll have to earn our pancakes. Oh, and if you can…bring a monolith and a charge from the staff I gave ya. It'll come in handy."

"Will do."

"Good. See you later, Mahan."

Mahan started to see his field of vision warp, as did everyone else on the ship. "Wait! Before we leave…well, you seem to be all-knowing, as odd as it sounds and, well…what's the meaning of life?"

"42."

"What?"

"Again, 42. You'll know why soon enough. Goodbye, Leko. It was a pleasure to have met you."

Steve flew off, disappearing in the band of pink that surrounded the vast void. A vortex, much like a black hole, appeared on the horizon, and the crew on the Space Rider's bridge saw it.

Suddenly, the entire experience of going into the tunnel of brilliant colors was relived. Mahan saw things flash before his eyes; he saw a little cell swimming from a much larger cell. He saw a small hoofed creature running for its life, pursued by a huge blind ozzie. He saw one of his own kind chipping a spear into what looked like a wheel. There were images of cities, of past wars and advancements, of joy and sorrow. There was a single soldier, 2 rifles falling from his hands, enveloped in a nuclear blast; there was a small space shuttle in orbit above his homeworld; and there was an image of him, when he was a child, back home on Kell.

It all was a beautiful sight, the entire history of everything compressed into infinitely small time.

And somewhere along this mental recall, Mahan could have sworn that he saw llamas hidden in the patterns of light on the outside.

Mahan opened his eyes. The ship was in the vacuum of space. Outside the window was a patchwork of stars and nebulae, over a covering of black. The galactic core was nowhere in sight.

Everyone on the ship was dumbfounded and shocked. Mahan reached for the ship's intercom. "Attention…this is your captain speaking…I realize that what has just happened may be traumatic for some of you. Please go to the barracks to rest up. We shall be returning home. Mission accomplished." Mahan glanced at his engine master. "Kellion…activate the return trip. Please. I'm sure we all need a good night's rest."

********

Epilogue

Mahan looked over at the ship's terraforming and social controls. He had a monolith and several charges from the staff left. Outside the window, he could see the tunnel from hyperspace fading. They had arrived.

Ever since his encounter, Mahan had been eager to share the experience and bounty of the expedition with his people. The empire of the Leko was an enlightened society now. Gone were things like suffering…inequality…the pangs of ignorance…The Grox were even losing the war against the Leko, after a few dozen allies and a few anti-matter weapons were brought in.

But his kind still had one final goal to pull off.

As the Star Rider exited hyperspace, the solar system he had been looking for came into view. Mahan's aged eyes looked over the system. It had a yellow star, and according to the scanners, the star seemed to be almost halfway through its life and it was of average size. The system had 8 planets. 4 of them were gaseous, with many moons.

The craft orbited above the selected planet. Mahan gave a short nod to his terraforming agent, who pushed the button that released a charge from the Staff of Life.

The charge rocketed toward the selected planet, creating a huge shockwave. There were storm systems visible on the surface, and vegetation followed soon after, covering the planet in a sudden expanse of green.

Mahan then ordered a monolith to be dropped, and it was. The thing unpacked and loomed over the planet's surface on one of its plains on a smaller continent.

The job was done. At last it was done. Mahan was 199 years old, near death by all accounts of modern medicine, but he was the single most enlightened and experienced person in the known universe. Aside from his old friend Steve, of course.

Mahan lay back in his chair as the ship reentered hyperspace. An agent in the system control pits looked up at him. "Sir, if I may ask, what was the name of the planet we just terraformed? You gave us no information other than that the target needed a burst from the Staff."

Mahan gave an old, wizened smile, his horns chipped and his eyes sagging. "Well, the name is technically Terra, but that's from an extinct language used in our database. You could call the planet Earth." The ship jumped, heading back home. Mahan gave a deep sigh and fell asleep to the whir of his ship's engines, the expanse of space looming out his port window.

********

There once was a little single-celled organism. This organism lived in a puddle. This puddle contained water that was drank by a creature called a doltasaur. This doltasaur lived in a forest that was part of a large continent.

This continent was land on a planet called Kell. Kell orbited a star called Chen, which was one of billions of stars in its native galaxy, the Milky Way. The Milky Way was one of billions of galaxies. These galaxies came together to form a superstructure of many, many galaxies and dust clouds.

This mass was one of many universes, populating an ever-expanding omniverse. And somewhere, in the great vastness of this omniverse, there was Steve.

Steve gave a slow, satisfied chuckle, booming through the vast infinite.

"When you do things right, people won't be sure you've done anything at all."

*******************

So how was it? Please review, though remember that this was my first crack at a Spore fanfic. More stories are on the way.