ã€ŠFractal Contactã€‹


 Prologue

    Location Classified, Graveyard Vault Elysium II 707.7 A.E. (Age of Exploration)

    ¡°Leave your personal weapon here, ensign,¡± the major ordered.

    According to her personnel file, she had survived three full tours on the Scuu front before being transferred to a desk job. Officially, it was presented as a promotion. In truth, there were allegations of Scuu artifact smuggling. Due to the high number of casualties in that section of space, nothing had been proven, but the red flags had caused the bureaucratic safeguards to spring into action and shift her to a less prominent role, far from temptation. The woman had objected on the record, though not gone as far as a full appeal. Since then, she had been banished here.

    I removed my pistol from its holster, ejected the magazine, then handed both to her. The woman grabbed them as if she were handling contraband and tossed them into a polymer tray on her desk.

    ¡°Datapad too,¡± she added.

    ¡°Is that necessary, ma¡¯am?¡± I asked.

    The question earned me an annoyed glance. I had no idea if the woman knew of me or just disliked being challenged. Running a few hundred simulations, I decided it wasn¡¯t worth the effort to argue. Calmly, I retrieved my datapad and placed it on top of my service weapon.

    ¡°Anything else, ma¡¯am?¡±

    The major gave me a quick glance over, then went to a nearby wall terminal to register my passage.

    ¡°Do you have any military or civilian implants or prosthetics?¡± she asked, filling in the electronic form. That answered one of my questions¡ªshe had no idea who I was.

    ¡°I¡¯m a battleship, ma¡¯am.¡±

    The answer made her pause, then turned around, looking for something that would confirm my story.

    ¡°It¡¯s in my file, ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t deal with paperwork, ensign,¡± she replied in a low hiss, before looking back to the terminal. The report must have panned out, for the doorframe leading onwards from the office turned green. ¡°Your stuff will be here when you get back. Go ahead.¡±

    Straightening the shirt of my uniform, I walked through the door. A short corridor continued onwards, leading to an elevator cabin. Out of habit, I tried to check if there were any ships in the area. The moment I did, I found that my comm system had been deactivated. There was no warning, no authorization level request. The local security system had directly bypassed all of my defense protocols and made the decision for me.

    ¡°I guess you were telling the truth after all,¡± I said loudly, and made my way to the cabin.

    The planet I was on didn¡¯t exist on most charts and databases. Officially, no ship was allowed within one light year of the system¡ªmore specifically, no active ship. If one considered inactive ships, there were millions of us, possibly more. Everyone knew that after the shutdown of a ship, its surviving cores were removed from its husk and taken to a vault for safekeeping. What happened within was one of the most tightly guarded secrets of the Fleet. There were rumors that every core was recycled into a new one. Personally, I hoped not. As my first captain used to say, everyone needed some rest.

    Soundlessly, the elevator doors shut, starting its ascent. The walls changed, displaying an endless green field around me. It all seemed so real that I felt I could reach out and touch the grass.

    As I watched, an animal appeared from the distance¡ªa gazelle with a bright orange coat. For minutes it would cautiously approach, then run away reacting to my actions. Twice I even reached out to pet it, but all my fingers felt was the cold material of the elevator cabin. Regardless of the effort that had gone into creating this scene, it remained an illusion.

    Suddenly, the images disappeared. I had arrived at my destination. The door slid aside, revealing a large shuttle platform. Four people were waiting, all of them outranking me.

    ¡°Ensign Light Seeker!¡± one of them shouted. ¡°This way, there¡¯s not much time!¡±

    ¡°Aye, sir!¡± I ran towards the nearest shuttle¡ªa small transport used to move officers and VIPs short distances.

    Once inside, I took my seat and strapped in. The rest of the officers followed.

    ¡°Head out!¡± one of the men said in the internal com.

    The shuttle lifted soon after, thrusting up and forward. I had already been told that we¡¯d be docking to an orbital station, but it wouldn¡¯t hurt to make some small talk on the way.

    ¡°This feels a lot smoother than a battlefield shuttle,¡± I said. ¡°Is it a core shuttle, sir?¡±

    ¡°The only thing with a conscience core here is you, ensign,¡± the man laughed. He was a captain as far as I could tell, though I was unable to find a personnel file matching his appearance. ¡°You must have pulled a lot of strings to get here.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve all done favors for people that count.¡± I smiled.

    ¡°I bet. Salvage or BICEFI?¡±

    ¡°You know I can¡¯t get into that, captain. The powers that be have made a decision. All we get to do is to follow their orders.¡±

    ¡°And what would those orders be, Ensign Seeker?¡±

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    I looked at him, the smile not leaving my face. The man was nearing middle age, but compared to me, he was just a kid. My own adopted son was a great-grandfather by now. Last I saw him he was complaining about the cold wave in his home colony, though not enough to move into the city.

    ¡°The Fleet¡¯s orders,¡± I replied after a while.

    The trip was short and smooth compared to what I was used to. I was the only one allowed to get off the shuttle. Everyone else was to wait for me there to take me back to the planet. There was a time when I would have made a snarky remark regarding Fleet bureaucracy. At present, I knew better.

    There was no decontamination procedure once I left the shuttle. This was slightly unusual, though considering the number of times I had gone through it to arrive on the planet, I appreciated the change. According to the updated Fleet regulations, a person had to go through decon each time they left or entered a docking area. With fighting increasing on the Cassandrian front, Fleet HQ was concerned that there might be increased instances of spore transfer. So far, nothing of the sort had occurred, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. Against the Cassandrians, one silly mishap was enough to lose entire planets.

    ¡°Proceed to hallway eighty-three,¡± a loud mechanical voice echoed throughout the hangar.

    I paused for two seconds to make sure there weren¡¯t any further instructions, then proceeded to the blast door a short distance away. Based on what I had seen so far, I expected it to have a hydraulic mechanism. To my surprise, it slid open the moment I approached it.

    ¡°Hi, Elcy,¡± a tall woman with straw blonde hair said from the corridor.

    Her facial features were different, but I recognized her instantly. Her posture and choice of attire were identical to the ones she¡¯d had in her previous body. Officially, she was the department head of the BICEFI. What few knew was that she was also a battleship in a human husk, very much like me.

    ¡°Welcome to the graveyard.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, ma¡¯am!¡± I stood to attention.

    ¡°There¡¯s no ¡°ma¡¯am¡± here.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Lux.¡±

    We walked along a corridor in silence. It had been a while since I¡¯d heard from her. In the past three years, I had completed three serious missions for her organization. One of them wasn¡¯t to her liking, creating a rift in our professional relations. I didn¡¯t expect she¡¯d ever contact me again, but a week ago, she had. The message was encrypted with a double helix cypher and it contained an itinerary, special Fleet authorization to follow it, and the phrase ¡°Ascendant funeral.¡± There was no way I could refuse to go.

    Many claimed that the Ascendant class was one of the most significant advancements in modern military history. A lot would argue otherwise, but we were definitely the most reckless. That was the reason for so few of us to exist. When I had last checked the database, after Lux¡¯s message, I could find only ninety-eight, eight-seven of which were retired. Even if I were to assume that twice as many were assigned to dark departments, it wasn¡¯t a lot.

    Lux took me to a vast observation room. There were half a dozen people there, standing in the darkness. Live feeds of ships were on all the walls. More astounding than anything, giant glass windows composed the entire outer wall.

    I instinctively stopped upon entering, but Lux nudged me to keep on walking. Without a word, she took me to the windowpane, next to one of the people. Even in this light, I could recognize the markings of an arbiter on his outfit.

    ¡°It¡¯s starting,¡± Lux whispered. ¡°Full authority.¡±

    In the blink of an eye, the empty space beyond the window changed, revealing the massive form of a ship, and not any ship. It was an Ascendant battleship, less than half a kilometer away.

    Small automated vessels no bigger than transport shuttles covered the hull like fireflies, systemically drilling into it.

    So, this is how a ship is destroyed, I thought.

    The closest thing I¡¯d seen to it was during shipyard refitting, when I watched whole sections of ships be removed and replaced with new ones. Here, there would be no replacing.

    Milliseconds marched on. Each was a moment I wanted to cling to, but knew that I couldn¡¯t. The outer hull went, dragged away as more fireflies joined in, eating into the engines and weapon systems. Just like insects picking the body of a dead animal, I thought.

    ¡°Outer Glow,¡± Lux whispered. ¡°She was in your cohort.¡±

    I had memories of the ship from our basic training, but that was about it. I had only fought with her on two occasions, early on at the Cassandrian Front. After that, she had been transferred to another part of the war theater. She wasn¡¯t particularly remarkable.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know her well,¡± I whispered back.

    ¡°She was one of our own. Now there are only five of us left.¡±

    That was unfortunate. Apparently, the database records were wrong in the other direction. Only five Ascendants remained on active duty.

    The complete deconstruction of the ship lasted seventeen minutes and eleven seconds. I didn¡¯t miss a single millisecond. Once it was all over and the last dismantling crafts disappeared from view, light filled the room. Now I got to have a look at the other people present. All of them were arbiters; more precisely, the person next to me was an arbiter, and the rest appeared to be his assistants.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be alarmed,¡± the man next to me said. ¡°You aren¡¯t in any trouble.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir. I¡¯m thankful, sir.¡±

    ¡°Bavon,¡± he corrected. ¡°Call me Bavon.¡±

    He was two heads taller than me, which wasn¡¯t particularly difficult, and not particularly muscular, with broad shoulders and thin hands, suggesting he came from an oxygen-rich planet. His skin was among the darkest I¡¯d seen, almost matching the color of his hair. His uniform was dark silver, with the arbiter insignia on the sleeve just below the shoulder.

    ¡°Sorry for meeting under such circumstances, but time is limited.¡±

    ¡°It always is.¡± I nodded.

    ¡°I¡¯d have preferred to have a few more decades before proceeding with this, but there aren¡¯t many Ascendants left. If we don¡¯t do it now, we might miss our chance.¡±

    I tilted my head.

    ¡°The war against the Cassies isn¡¯t going well?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s not the Cassies or the Scuu. The real problem is the third-contact race.¡±

    It took me ten milliseconds to go through all my memories involving the third-contact race. Unlike the Scuu or the Cassandrians, everything humanity knew about this race was based on artifacts that had been discovered. Based on these finds, it was theorized that the race had the abilities of instantaneous transportation and communication, as well as a possible reason for the existence of the other two races.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been preparing for another war,¡± I said.

    ¡°For another contact. Hopefully, it doesn¡¯t escalate to that this time.¡±

    ¡°With due respect, arbiter, it didn¡¯t work out last time.¡± Twice.

    I expected to receive a grumble, but instead, the man smiled.

    ¡°That¡¯s why you¡¯ll be tasked with making contact.¡±

    There were a few times in a battleship¡¯s existence when we felt all the weight of the universe. My first time was when my first captain retired, the second¡ªwhen half of me died, discovering the secret of the Cassandrians, and the third when my fourth captain made me promise I¡¯d raise her son as my own. All those couldn¡¯t compare to the request that had been made just now. In one sentence, the man had made me responsible for the fate of the entire human race.

 1. Officer Status

    I stood to attention outside of the commandant¡¯s office. The decision to have me assigned to a vessel had been made weeks ago, only just managing to squeeze through the pipes of the bureaucratic apparatus. It was outright astonishing how long it took for a suitable position to be opened up, even after officially receiving my promotion. Half a year had passed since my last operation, and if it wasn¡¯t for the arbiter¡¯s involvement, I¡¯d probably still be waiting.

    The delay was entirely due to my unusual status. Despite the exceptions and special privileges I¡¯d received, there was no denying that I remained a battleship within the Fleet. Thousands of safeguards existed solely for the purpose of preventing ships assuming autonomous control¡ªwhich was what I would be doing if I ever got promoted to captain. As several officers overseeing my case had told me, it was a dangerous precedent. Of course, they had no idea that the BICEFI had entire divisions run by ships.

    The surface of the door changed from red to green, indicating I could enter. Straightening up in a futile attempt to gain an inch of height, I knocked on the door, then entered.

    ¡°Ensign Light Seeker reporting as ordered!¡± I said, standing to attention.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± The commandant waved at me to stand at ease and close the door.

    He was new, having held his position two months less than I had held mine. According to his personnel file, he was a good strategist, even if with minimal combat experience. From what I was able to find in the Fleet¡¯s database, his focus was breaches on the Cassandrian front. He had made a series of gifted decisions which had been noticed by the strategic core clusters, earning him a strategist position in the admiralty. After five years of serving there, Major Delain had requested a transfer to the front. That request had been denied. However, he had been offered a compromise: to become the new commandant of Libra training station.

    ¡°Take a seat, ensign.¡±

    There were two free chairs in the room, part of the new additions the commandant had brought with him. As the joke among the structures went, the commandant had come with a lot of baggage.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been on the waiting list for quite some time, haven¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°For longer than you have been here, sir,¡± I replied.

    It was said that the man had a good sense of humor. The way he glanced at me said that the rumors were greatly exaggerated.

    ¡°Your transfer orders have come in.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, sir.¡±

    ¡°Actually, they arrived over a week ago. I sent in a confirmation request to ensure that everything was in order. It seems it¡¯s official. A high priority transmission came from Vice Admiral Reid an hour ago. You have been granted a spot on the Solar Flow. No precise duties specified at this point.¡±

    He had delayed my transfer? This was rather unusual. The previous commandant, despite not seeing eye to eye with me on a few topics, wanted nothing more than to have me moved to active duty. He hadn¡¯t hidden that having the first battleship graduate in the Fleet would be beneficial for the training station¡¯s profile. Clearly, Delain disagreed.

    ¡°No questions?¡± The commandant leaned back in his chair.

    ¡°Why the confirmation request, sir?¡± I asked what he wanted to hear.

    ¡°I¡¯m aware of your significance,¡± he began. ¡°Most of your file remains classified, but my predecessor made a few personal notes to your file. The thing I found most interesting was¡ª¡± He looked at the terminal screen on his desk. ¡°¡ªyour reluctance to obey certain orders. Since there¡¯s nothing explicit in your file, I can only imagine that those incidents have been purged by the BICEFI, would be my guess.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be able to say, sir.¡±

    ¡°Do you take me for an idiot?¡±

    I was tempted to respond that I was still running simulations on the matter. Given his hostile attitude, I chose to play it safe.

    ¡°No, sir. Absolutely not.¡±

    ¡°If you ask me, the ship retirement program was a massive mistake. There¡¯s no benefit to putting a ship in a human body. Neither the ships nor the people are used to it. Whoever came up with this probably did it out of guilt, imagining that ships would spend the last few centuries quietly on a planet somewhere. Now look where we are.¡±

    Now I knew why the commandant had avoided me since arriving at the station. People fearing un-retired battleships wasn¡¯t new. Back when I was a cadet candidate, my entire cohort had been against me. With time, that had changed to the point where I was currently considered to be the station¡¯s lucky charm. At least, as far as the instructors were concerned. The cadets I trained, while waiting for my reassignment, had more of an issue with my height than my nature.

    ¡°A ship is not supposed to be in command of a ship, regardless of what the BICEFI think.¡±

    ¡°With all due respect, sir, that¡¯s a decision only Fleet HQ can make.¡±

    Anger flashed through him. I could see all the changes in his face, from the narrowing of the irises to the increase of body temperature.

    ¡°That has been made clear by your hidden guardians,¡± he said before looking down at the terminal. ¡°A ship will dock at the station on the hour. Get what you need and be there.¡±

    ¡°Sir, I still have classes I need to¡ª¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s been taken care of. You¡¯re no longer a cadet instructor since twenty minutes ago. Get out.¡±

    I gave a salute and left the room. This wasn¡¯t the most pleasant conversation I¡¯ve had, although not the worst either. Frankly, I was surprised it hadn¡¯t come up earlier. If I were to guess, the commandant had probably made several attempts to get rid of me. Given that he had worked at strategic planning, he probably thought he had an idea what was going on. Personally, I had serious doubts that this was the case.

    Cadets saluted as I made my way through the station to my quarters. Due to my status, I had been assigned the furthest away from the administrative building and in extreme proximity to one of the station¡¯s docking areas. Getting anywhere would ensure that I had to pass through a vast crowd of people.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to salute each time, cadets,¡± I said loudly, knowing that my words would be ignored. This was an elite training station, which ensured that everyone here was an overachiever fresh from training. With recruitment at the highest it had been in two centuries, humanity couldn¡¯t build enough training stations to keep up with the flow. Here, the issue was resolved by increasing the demands on candidates. Three-quarters of them would be shipped off-station before they could become official cadets. The rest would be slowly sent on training missions and slowly weeded out until only the best remained. It was a harsh process, but ultimately saved lives.

    The first thing I did when I got to my quarters was to unlock my weapon¡¯s compartment and retrieve my pistol. Five sets of uniforms hung in my makeshift wardrobe. Most of them were all white, as every other instructor, with my ensign insignia on the shoulder. One was the dreaded purple uniform of a ship cadet that I had been forced to wear during my mission on the Scuu front. Finally, my combat uniform from my Cassandrian assignment was also there. I hesitated a bit, then took all but my white uniforms. From experience, I knew that a new uniform would be made for me upon boarding the Solar Flow.

    A pair of wooden sandals given to me by my ward was the only other thing I packed¡ªthe only thing that I kept from before rejoining the Fleet. The last time I had actually worn them was four months ago, but they still felt dear to me, serving as a constant reminder of the child I had agreed to adopt. Now, of course, that child was in his eighties, whereas I remained stuck in the appearance of a short, lanky, twenty-year-old girl.

    They finally kicked you out, the transport ship Bull Calf transmitted directly to my conscience core. About time, if you ask me. For a while I thought you¡¯d be stuck on the station forever.

    ¡°News sure travels fast.¡± I continued packing. ¡°Does the entire station know?¡±

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Probably. They also know of the beef the new commandant has with you.

    ¡°I doubt it.¡± I checked my datapad. There were already two dozen messages, wishing me the best. To my surprise, there was nothing from the med bay. Normally, the doc would be the first to request a med check. ¡°Anything else you¡¯d like to share?¡±

    Aren¡¯t you confident? Buc laughed. I still remember the cadet candidate that used to hide in the cargo commitments in order to avoid people. Look at you now¡ªan ensign on your final trip out of here.

    ¡°I might be back,¡± I lied. Regardless of how the mission ended, I wouldn¡¯t be coming back here. Buc probably suspected as much. He was considerably younger than me, but had seen enough to know a thing or two about the Fleet. As with most transport ships, he also had the annoying ability to learn things he wasn¡¯t supposed to.

    Sure you will. Did you tell your ward?

    ¡°I told him enough.¡± This was a trick question. Even if I was allowed to tell Sev some details regarding my mission, I wouldn¡¯t share them with him.

    You know best. Take care, Elcy. I plan to talk to you until I lose my access.

    ¡°Thanks, Buc.¡± I zipped my military backpack shut. It was only a quarter full, but I didn¡¯t need much. ¡°You take care too.¡±

    There were over twenty minutes before my assigned transport arrived. The commandant hadn¡¯t clarified whether the ship coming to take me was a transport ship or the Solar Flow directly. At this point, there was no point wondering. Soon enough, it would become clear. Soon, of course, was largely a human term. Thanks to my conscience core, every millisecond felt like eternity, especially if there was nothing to do.

    After some thought, I decided to enter the docking bay and go through the decontamination procedure. With the safety protocols in place, the station had added UV emitters to the standard decon chambers.

    Being the only one there, I entered the large glass cylinder. The moment I did, the glass turned opaque.

    ¡°Please remove all clothes and personal possessions,¡± a metallic voice told me. ¡°Once done, place them in the holding compartment.¡±

    It was always the same. I undressed and carefully folded my clothes, placing them on top of my backpack. I then pulled a drawer compartment in the bottom of the cylinder and placed everything inside.

    ¡°Commencing decontamination procedure. Close your eyes and hold your breath for one minute.¡±

    A five second countdown gave me the opportunity to prepare before chemicals were sprayed all over me, filling the chamber. It was one of those unpleasant experiences one quickly got used to, though never looked forward to.

    After a minute, the chemical spray was replaced by water, then air, then ultimately stopped altogether.

    ¡°Please keep your eyes closed,¡± the metallic voice said.

    I could feel the warmth of the UV light pass over me¡ªone final scan to ensure I didn¡¯t have any Cassandrian spores.

    ¡°Decontamination complete. Collect your clothes and possessions.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± I opened my eyes and proceeded to open the compartment.

    The clothes were warm to touch, having gone through a far more vigorous decontamination procedure than myself. I quickly got dressed, removed any wrinkles I could, then left the decon chamber from the other side. The instant I did, its walls became transparent again, indicating it was ready for use. That done, I could only wait.

    ¡°Give me a path,¡± I told the station AI.

    A green line appeared on the floor, starting beneath my feet and continuing forward along the main corridor.

    With seventeen minutes left, I skimmed through the latest developments in the wars. The media kept mentioning the progress on the Scuu front. Never since the first-contact war had humanity seen such gains, reclaiming systems abandoned for centuries. Special attention was put on the new station-class ships, touted as the greatest achievement since the legendary Paladin vessels. It was good for morale and the war effort, though not entirely true. As impressive as the new ships were, they had nothing to do with the successes on the front. Thanks to a series of successful black op missions, including my own, new methods had been found to push the Scuu back with a relatively minimal amount of fighting. The Fleet was still at a vast disadvantage when fighting Scuu directly, so they made the border systems inhospitable for them instead. Should the aliens choose to invade once more, they¡¯d cause just as much devastation as during the previous waves.

    The Cassandrian front had also seen substantial gains. While fighting had intensified, the enemies still hadn¡¯t adjusted to the new ship classes. By my personal estimates, it would be a decade until a new enemy sub-fraction emerged, making things difficult once more.

    By all accounts, things were going well. And yet, just as Wilco liked to say: the more things calm down, the more we prepare for war. What wasn¡¯t mentioned in the media reports¡ªor any non-classified military reports, for that matter¡ªwas that the BICEFI was gathering twice as many third-contact artifacts as they had been in the previous three centuries combined. Lux had shared that they were close to obtaining twenty-seven domes. Fleets were sent into the Cassandrian buffer zone to explore a series of potential systems, with the aim to procure the final two. Meanwhile, hundreds of captains and their battleships commented on the stupidity of HQ and their commanders, blaming the overburdening bureaucracy for the pointless losses. From their perspective, they were absolutely right: the systems they were fighting for had no strategic significance whatsoever. In most cases, they didn¡¯t even have valuable resources. There was a time when I had thought like them. After seeing the big picture, though, everything had changed. Actions that seemed stupid became vital, events that seemed genius became mediocre. It was an entirely new ballgame, as my first captain would say.

    The green line ended at the double door of an airlock. This being a military station, there were no seats, just an indication of where to wait. I put my datapad away and leaned against the wall. There was no practical reason for me to do so, but I enjoyed the sensation.

    With a quarter of an hour left, I tried to check the details of the ship I was about to join. Large parts of the information were redacted, but my authorization level was high enough so I could view some of it. There were definite advantages to working for an arbiter, even if I was yet to be granted unrestricted access.

    The ship was an Illumination class frigate. Officially, he was a ¡°combat-transporter¡± with five decades of active service. That made him a veteran, even if considerably young compared to me. Unlike most ships, he had performed missions all over human space, including in both buffer zones. That made him rather unique. Other than the Swords and a few of the other ancient classes, most ships were designed for just one front.

    There was no information about the crew. Even the redacted sections only contained the total number of crew and officers, with no additional details.

    All specific missions were listed as ¡°cargo transport¡± directed by Fleet Command directly. I tried obtaining additional information using a roundabout approach, but to no avail. The people involved had done a good job making the vessel invisible. The only data crumbs I managed to get was that the Illumination class had been first designed over two centuries ago and continued to be in production, albeit in small numbers.

    At least the combat systems look good, I thought. It was always interesting meeting new ships. I had little doubt I¡¯d get along fine with this one as well.

    ¡°Ensign Light Seeker, prepare for boarding,¡± the station¡¯s AI said throughout the docking tunnel.

    ¡°I¡¯m already at the gate.¡± I moved away from the wall.

    It can¡¯t see you. A transmission bypassed the security protocols of my conscience core. Just hang in there, Sof will arrive in up to a minute.

    ¡°Thanks for keeping an eye on me, Lux,¡± I replied. It was nice to see that she still had the nasty habit of abusing her authority. Then again, that was how she¡¯d become a division head of the BICEFI. ¡°Will you be joining me on the mission, ma¡¯am?¡±

    Let¡¯s hope not. From this point on, backups can¡¯t be together.

    That was her way of saying that she¡¯d only get involved in the mission if I failed.

    ¡°Good to know. Any additional orders you might have?¡±

    Not this time. You¡¯ll be told everything once you get aboard. You¡¯re the arbiter¡¯s problem from here on. I¡¯m just here to make sure you get aboard.

    ¡°And I¡¯m very appreciative, ma¡¯am.¡± I smirked, knowing that Lux would have enough sensors focused on me to see.

    Radiance sends you her best. She¡¯s hoping you come back.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best, ma¡¯am.¡±

    Radiance was the ship I was closest to in the Fleet. Buc was a good friend, but Radiance was my prot¨¦g¨¦, and then some. I had become her mentor back during my first cadet mission. Since then, we had worked together on two missions, mostly on the Scuu front. Normally, she¡¯d get in touch with me whenever her schedule allowed. Now that she had joined the BICEFI, nearly all of her missions were done in full radio silence.

    ¡°Is she on this side of the Front?¡±

    She¡¯s at a shipyard. Things didn¡¯t go well during her last mission.

    That explained why I hadn¡¯t heard from her in a while

    Most of her cores are intact, but not the frame. We¡¯ll be giving her a new experimental husk. Next time you see her, she¡¯ll be very different.

    ¡°Can¡¯t wait to see that.¡±

    A countdown timer appeared on the docking door, indicating that the vessel in question had started its approach. In fourteen seconds, I¡¯d step off the station and start my final mission. Ever since I had gotten a glimpse of fractal space using a third-contact artifact, I had known this day would come. My fear had been that it would come too late, forcing me to go against orders a few times. Now, when the moment was here, I was starting to feel regret.

    ¡°You don¡¯t think I¡¯ll return from this, do you?¡±

    Who knows? You¡¯ve survived death before.

    I knew she was going to say that, just as she didn¡¯t believe it. That wasn¡¯t the goal of the mission, however. The most important thing was to see it through to the end. Everything else was secondary.

    ¡°Take care of my family, and Rad.¡± I stood in front of the door. ¡°Also, I¡¯d like an Ascendant funeral.¡±

    I¡¯ll make it happen. Good luck, Elcy. You¡¯re on your own from here on.

    The door connecting to the ship opened.

 2. Quinn

    A total of three people were waiting for me in the ship¡¯s airlock. Two wore black uniforms, indicating they were part of ship security. According to their classified personnel files, both were ground troop officers who¡¯d managed to survive two tours on the Cassandrian front. That in itself was impressive. Grunts had a general life expectancy that was less than that of battleships. Their seemingly relaxed posture hid all the hallmarks of combat specialists that excelled at their job.

    The third man was the Solar Flow¡¯s XO¡ªCommander Kroic Acheck. Shorter than either of the security guards, he was remarkably young¡ªprobably still in his twenties¡ªwith a long, angular face and chestnut hair. If there was a case for someone to be called an interstellar that was him. The XO had spent his early life living in nine different star systems, and that was before he had joined the Fleet. After that, he had spent half a decade as a Fleet Intelligence pilot before being transferred here. Clearly, the crew and staff were overqualified and highly specialized, and still the details regarding the ship itself were lacking. What was more, all my attempts to filter the Fleet¡¯s personnel by ship assignment yielded no results.

    ¡°Is that all your luggage, ensign?¡± The XO asked without introducing himself. His voice was relaxed, as if he¡¯d never had to yell an order in his life.

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± I stood to attention. ¡°It¡¯s my experience that non-personal necessities are usually provided by the ship I¡¯m assigned to.¡±

    ¡°Did you used to do that?¡± he asked, making it clear that he had read my file as well.

    ¡°Only in part, sir. The majority of my captains disallowed the practice.¡±

    The answer formed a slight smile on his face. The security guards remained just as attentive. One of them was watching my hands, as if expecting me to draw my personal weapon.

    ¡°Well, you¡¯ll learn that we do things a bit differently here,¡± the XO said.

    ¡°Yes, sir. I hear that a lot.¡±

    ¡°Only this time, it¡¯s true. You¡¯ll see.¡±

    The inner airlock door opened, revealing a typical ship corridor.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get you to the medbay.¡± He led the way.

    Not the usual XO, I transmitted to the ship.

    My goal was to break the ice. Ships always reacted in different fashion upon coming into contact with me. Some were chatty right off the bat, others were cold and by the book. This one had remained quiet, making me uncertain which category it fell into. There were no warnings, so I could only assume that the ship was hearing me, just choosing not to respond. Or maybe he had been thought quarantined?

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t given details about my ship duties,¡± I said as we walked along the corridor. It was respectably long, though nowhere near as long as mine had been.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be helping out,¡± the XO replied in the vaguest fashion possible. A quick analysis of his intonation gave an eighty-three percent probability that he was being sincere. ¡°You don¡¯t need a gun aboard the ship, by the way.¡±

    ¡°Are you asking me to surrender it, sir?¡± As a cadet, I would have complied without much of a fight. Now that I had earned both my rank and the option to have a personal weapon, I was less inclined to do so.

    ¡°It¡¯s a personal request.¡±

    ¡°Understood, sir.¡± I nodded, but didn¡¯t surrender my weapon. It was immaterial either way. Even without the security guards, the ship had the means to neutralize me with ease should the captain or XO order it.

    A faint smell of chemicals filled the air¡ªcleaning materials, from what I could make out. I had been on enough science ships to know they tended to be obsessed with cleanliness in their lab areas. Solar Flow took things one step beyond. Modified maintenance bots followed us a short distance behind, disinfecting every patch of floor we¡¯d stepped on. As things stood, I couldn¡¯t tell whether this was a common occurrence or if the bots were here because of me.

    The medbay was located near the end of the corridor, indicated by the universal Fleet symbol of medicine on the door. Upon reaching it, the XO gestured for me to enter. I obeyed, stepping right in.

    ¡°Hello, there.¡± A tall woman greeted me with a smile. ¡°So, you¡¯re the new ensign?¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± I replied in a slightly casual fashion. ¡°I take it people have been discussing my arrival?¡±

    ¡°Any new arrival is big news here. In a bit, you¡¯ll find out why. You can take your clothes off over there.¡± She pointed at a set of chairs in the corner of the room. The rest of the space was occupied by more equipment that was normal for a standard medbay, including three pod containers.

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± I stepped to the spot and diligently undressed. The floor was colder than I expected, though not too uncomfortable. In a way, it reminded me of walking barefoot on stones back home.

    ¡°Good, now lay on the bed.¡±

    I took a few steps towards the standard cots when the doctor raised her hand in front of me.

    ¡°The operation bed,¡± she clarified. ¡°I need to do a full check and update your nanites.¡±

    ¡°My nanites are up to date, ma¡¯am,¡± I said as I went to the slab.

    ¡°Not by ship standards. You¡¯ll be hearing that a lot the first few days. Don¡¯t worry, everyone goes through it. Did the commander explain anything when you got here?¡±

    ¡°He did his best, ma¡¯am.¡± The slab was old school. Laying down reminded me that my last few missions had spoiled me when it came to technology.

    ¡°Sounds like Kroic.¡± The doctor let out an annoyed sigh. ¡°Well, let me welcome you to the Solar Flow on his behalf. I¡¯m Doctor Erein Vill, ship¡¯s doctor, and I will make sure you get used to things as quickly as possible.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re my debrief officer?¡±

    ¡°In a way.¡±

    I felt slight pressure in the base of my neck, followed by a slight pricking sensation. Once that was over, the doctor took a cluster of nano-tubes and carefully inserted them in the veins of my left hand, arm, and leg. Doing a quick check, she then moved to the other side.

    ¡°I apologize for this.¡± She continued with her work. ¡°I know it¡¯s not comfortable.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m used to it, ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°To be honest, this is a big occasion for me. I¡¯ve never performed a ship medical before. I had to run a dozen simulations before we got here to get the gist of it. That¡¯s not what I¡¯m doing right now, mind you. Before we get there, we have to go through the unenviable task of having your nanites replaced. The process isn¡¯t painful, but on the lengthy side.¡±

    ¡°I understand.¡±

    ¡°Let me know if you experience any headaches, nausea, or sudden chills.¡±

    ¡°I know the drill, ma¡¯am.¡± I didn¡¯t particularly like ship medicals, although I had to admit it had been a while since the last time I¡¯d had one.

    A series of notifications emerged, quickly increasing to a flow. New nanites were being introduced to my system, identifying themselves as they established contact with my conscience core. No doubt while this was going on, my old nanites were being removed from my bloodstream.

    Several of the nearby medical devices performed their function, displaying readings on a small terminal screen. I could see the flashes of reflected light, though not what it was said. If any other medbay was an indication, my full bio readings were displayed and analyzed.

    ¡°Am I low on calcium, ma¡¯am?¡± I asked. Since I¡¯d rejoined the Fleet, that had become a running joke, often followed by a strict diet to remedy the situation.

    ¡°Definitely, though not for long.¡±

    The answer surprised me. I turned my head slightly in an attempt to manage a glimpse in the doctor¡¯s direction.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been cleared to have your depletion safeguard removed. I¡¯d like to wait till your new nanites are active before I put you into sleep mode.¡±

    I ran a wide search through all the Fleet databases I had access to. My access levels passed through all security protocols and yet I couldn¡¯t find anything about calcium depletion safeguards.

    Don¡¯t bother, Solar Flow transmitted direction to my core. You won¡¯t find it there.

    His voice was deep and melodic, with a slightly sharp accent.

    You answered, I mused.

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    There wasn¡¯t any point till now. You need the new nanites to communicate with me. I¡¯ve been talking about you ever since you came aboard.

    So, I¡¯m part of the crew now?

    Almost. You still have the boring part. Try to push through. It gets a lot more exciting after that.

    There were too many unknowns for me even to run a simulation. I felt as if I¡¯d been thrown into an entirely new environment without any preparation and was expected to take a stroll. Up till now, I¡¯d always had the time to adapt at my own pace. Here, I felt almost as confused as the first time I¡¯d woken up in my organic body. The difference was that even back then, I¡¯d gone through a number of simulations to get a general idea of what to expect¡­

    * * *

    Location Classified, Janus Shipyard Cluster, 638.7 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    ¡°Cutting off the last one!¡± a technician shouted.

    Hundreds of them had been crawling through my systems for the last forty hours, systematically disconnecting all of my sensors. I had tried to explain that I could use bots to achieve the same result in a matter of hours, but procedures demanded that everything be done manually every step of the way.

    At first, they had stripped me of all external sensors, and then they had proceeded with the internal ones. My weapon systems and propulsion systems had already been dismantled, rendering me effectively crippled. I knew this was part of retirement, but I still felt an inexplicable sense of loss. This was different from having parts of me shot off in battle. This felt like relinquishing my entire husk in order to become something new¡ªsomething closer to human.

    ¡°Her auxiliary¡¯s still on,¡± a tech said from one of the few sections I still had audio from. ¡°Check for a battle-time redundancy.¡±

    I don¡¯t have any battle modifications, I said, but my voice was never heard in my corridors. That had also been severed. The only form of communication I had left was standard ship transmissions.

    ¡°That should do it. She¡¯s all prepped and ready. Time for the med guys to take over.¡±

    I was about to ask what they meant when my sensor of the area was cut off as well. From here on, I was completely deaf and blind¡ªa highly uncomfortable feeling. If that happened during a battle, it was the equivalent of being destroyed. Normally I¡¯d do a system¡¯s diagnostic, but I didn¡¯t have the ability to perform even that. The techs had blocked most of my conscience core functionality, severely limiting my processing power. All that was left was to wait and¡ª

    ¡°Hello, Light Seeker,¡± a voice said.

    That was a surprise. I was under the impression that all my sensors had been disabled. Going through my memory, I confirmed that was indeed the case. Even so, for some reason I had an audio sensor to my medbay.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be starting your retirement process,¡± the voice continued.

    Memory Restriction Imposed

    Memory Restriction Bypassed

    ¡°Your organic body is being constructed in your medbay. One of your cores will be extracted from your husk and placed within its skull. Then I¡¯ll proceed with the final adjustments. It won¡¯t be a short process.¡±

    How long? I asked.

    ¡°Weeks,¡± he replied, acknowledging my question. ¡°Likely more. We don¡¯t rush these things.¡±

    Given that retirement to a human body wasn¡¯t at all common, I could understand that the process was more art than science. Things had to be tested, unexpected mistakes corrected, until I finally found myself in the body I had selected. At least, I hoped that¡¯s how it was going to go.

    Time stopped having any meaning. I¡¯d always felt it drag along, but there were usually ways to occupy myself during the boredom between events. Nearly all of the time, I¡¯d have my subroutines run thousands to millions of simulations, but this option had been removed from me. Initially, I had the option to review my memories, but that too was blocked after a few days. The technician explained that memory roaming wasn¡¯t a good idea while my conscience core was being attached to my new body. Lacking any visual sensors, I asked him to describe the process. To my surprise, he did.

    ¡°You¡¯ll go through adjustment phases,¡± the man explained. ¡°They¡¯ll take getting used to.¡±

    Are you retired?

    ¡°No, but I¡¯ve seen it often enough. Ascendants take it better than most. Your class likes change.¡±

    I had never considered it that way. I didn¡¯t feel as though I particularly liked change. It took me a while to get used to my change of captains. The tech was probably confusing this with going against the odds. The latter was for combat situations only¡ªwe rarely backed down from a fight, no matter the chances of death. That gave us an edge above other classes, though some said that made us a liability.

    How many have you retired?

    ¡°Dozens.¡± The reply didn¡¯t sound as impressive as I had expected. ¡°We¡¯re a small group. Most of you prefer to keep your husk and go into the private sector. Merchant freighters, luxury vessels, even civilian transport. I hear it¡¯s almost as fulfilling as being a battleship.¡±

    I need a human form. There¡¯s someone I need to see.

    ¡°That¡¯s your decision.¡± I could detect a slight hint of disapproval in his tone. ¡°Hold tight a moment. You will have to sleep for a bit.¡±

    When the conversation continued, two days had passed, according to my internal systems. This was the adjustment phase¡ªa combination of shutdowns and modifications, making sure that my conscience core could interface adequately with my new organic body. I couldn¡¯t see or feel a thing, but from the tech¡¯s comments, I could tell it wasn¡¯t a trivial matter.

    It was also at this point that different techs took turns working on me. Basic voice analyses suggested that there were three of them, though it was possible there were more. The first one was still present, though I heard him less and less. Apparently, each was responsible for a different phase of the retirement process.

    Nineteen days later, the final moment arrived.

    ¡°You¡¯re all set for your final transfer,¡± the man said. ¡°You¡¯ll go through a temp shutdown then wake up in your new body. After that, you won¡¯t be a ship anymore.¡±

    I¡¯m not a ship now, I thought, trying to make an attempt at humor. For some reason, the realization that this was happening made me feel slightly anxious. It wasn¡¯t fear, but rather a preparation to jump into the unknown. Will you be here when I wake up?

    ¡°I don¡¯t deal with post. Someone else will do the final phase. Try not to give him a hard time.¡±

    No promises.

    I heard a stifled chuckle. After nearly three weeks, it was inevitable that we had established a sort of work connection. I had no illusions that the techs would forget about me in less than a month. They¡¯d probably be transferred to another retiree where they¡¯d start the process from scratch. Most likely, all my memories of this event would be restricted as well.

    ¡°Don¡¯t exert yourself when you¡¯re human,¡± he said. ¡°Your body¡¯s strong, but it¡¯s organic. Your core will warn you, but it¡¯s not foolproof. Don¡¯t get in any dangerous situations.¡±

    I¡¯ll do my best.

    ¡°And don¡¯t go off-planet.¡±

    Why?

    ¡°Safety protocols. Retirees are chained to planets. Venture off for too long and your standard body functions will change, creating deficiencies.¡±

    I could see the military necessity in this¡ªeven with a large part of my memories restricted, I¡¯d remain a liability, or maybe even a threat. Humanity wasn¡¯t willing to grant so much unchecked freedom to a non-organic. I could have power or freedom, but not both at the same time.

    I¡¯ll never be among the stars again?

    ¡°That¡¯s the price of retirement.¡±

    * * *

    The price of retirement. The tech didn¡¯t have the authorization to share such information. I must have caught him in a peculiar mood to do so. The memory had been restricted, of course, preventing me from stumbling upon it. Even with the mind scalpel, it wasn¡¯t something I considered searching for.

    My nanite replacement took exactly as long as the doctor had said. I attempted to engage in idle conversation, but Erein had the tendency to constantly go on tangents, making it difficult to focus on a single topic. Apart from that, she seemed like a pleasant person, and¡ªlike everyone aboard¡ªa first-rate specialist. That was hardly surprising since she had belonged to the Med Core, very much like Sim. The interesting thing was that, unlike my old acquaintance, she had cut all ties after being reassigned.

    ¡°Okay, everything seems to be in order,¡± the doctor said, looking at the monitor. ¡°Once you wake up, your new nanites will kick in, and you¡¯ll have access to most functions aboard.¡±

    ¡°Am I to interfere with the ship¡¯s functionality?¡±

    ¡°That isn¡¯t what the doctor said,¡± the ship clarified, his voice filling the room. ¡°You simply won¡¯t have to bother me for all the minor stuff, like changing the settings of your quarters, external visual feeds, et cetera.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for the clarification.¡± For all of Sof¡¯s attitude, it was obvious he was glad he had another ship to talk to. From what he had told me, he didn¡¯t get a chance to do that a lot, or at all, as a matter of fact. Having a ship, even an unretired relic such as myself, was no doubt a welcome change. ¡°Is it time for the final step, ma¡¯am?¡± I asked the doctor.

    ¡°You¡¯re the dramatic one,¡± the woman chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s a simple procedure. You won¡¯t even know it happened.¡±

    A moment later, the procedure was done. Similar to my original transfer into a human body, my system registered several hours passed. Other than that, I didn¡¯t feel remotely different.

    ¡°Hello again,¡± the doctor said with a yawn. ¡°Feeling alright?¡±

    ¡°No headaches or nausea, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re asking, ma¡¯am,¡± I replied.

    ¡°Good enough.¡± She removed the nanotubes from me. ¡°Sof will keep an eye on you for the next week, in case there are any unexpected side effects. Not that I expect any.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just that you haven¡¯t worked on a ship before,¡± I slid in a comment. Maybe it wasn¡¯t the most diplomatic thing to do, but then again, neither was invasive surgery.

    ¡°Cute.¡± Erein wasn¡¯t the type of person who would take that sitting down. ¡°Get dressed, then head to the bridge. The captain¡¯s expecting you.¡±

    ¡°Aye, ma¡¯am.¡±

    Slowly, I sat up on the slab. My balance seemed unaffected. Even so, I remained in this position for three seconds before standing up and going to the corner where my uniform was. I put it on, making sure there were as few wrinkles as possible, then grabbed my military backpack.

    ¡°Will I be seeing you again, ma¡¯am?¡± I asked, standing in front of the door.

    ¡°Quite often, I¡¯m sure.¡± The doctor smiled. ¡°Better not keep the captain waiting.¡±

    The security guards were waiting for me in the corridor. The procedure clearly hadn¡¯t changed their opinions regarding me. Without a word, they escorted me to the nearest ship elevator and joined me inside.

    ¡°Will this become the standard?¡± I could tell they were treating me as a rookie, despite knowing I was four times older than them.

    ¡°That¡¯s for the captain to decide, ma¡¯am,¡± came a reply. At least they respected my rank.

    The elevator trip continued for five-point-two seconds in complete silence. The instant the doors opened, I stepped into a wide hallway leading to the bridge itself. The blast doors were already open, allowing me to see part of what was inside.

    It seemed like a standard command room¡ªa lot more modern than what my own had been, but a far cry from the current generation of ships. The ages of the command staff ranged from the late twenties to the mid-forties. The captain, in particular, was well into her middle age, judging by the threads of gray in the back of her head. Aware of my arrival, she stood up from her chair and turned around.

    What I saw surprised me to the point that I made two independent queries to the Fleet¡¯s database in order to confirm her identity.

    ¡°Quinn?¡± I asked, expecting to be corrected. Instead, the woman smirked.

    ¡°Hello, grandma. It¡¯s been a while.¡±

 3. Through the Cracks

    Tauciu System, Resha Colony ¡ª 692.11 A.E. (Age of Exploration)

    ¡°Are they really like that?¡± Quinn asked, looking at her portable.

    Sev had bought her two mini datapads, not to mention all the older models she had from school, but she still preferred to drag a large cube the size of a bucket along in her backpack. This was one of the new fads popular in the city for people her age. Just another one of those things that ¡°everyone was doing¡± with no reason or logic. Sev would be furious if he ever found out. Me¡ªI was worried about the other fad she had become obsessed with.

    ¡°The troopers?¡± I glanced at the overly large screen. It was yet another of the Fleet recruitment infomercials that had flooded the media.

    ¡°No, grandma,¡± the girl laughed. ¡°The exos.¡±

    Back when I was in the Fleet, hearing civilians using military abbreviations used to mildly annoy me. Everyone knew that they rarely had an idea what they were talking about, but still wanted to show off as being part of the troops. In this case, though, the only thing I felt was even greater concern.

    ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°They have a lot more wear and tear. Also, no one adds that much armor plating. The only time you¡¯ll see one of those will be if you¡¯re welding something in orbit.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Those are welder mech suits with weapons added on,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯ll only get to wear them if you become a maintenance engineer.¡±

    ¡°Grandma!¡± Sev¡¯s daughter burst out laughing.

    She was the only one in the family that referred to me as grandma. Initially, it had started as a minor rebellion against her father. Quinn had been back in school then, and demanded more attention from her family than she was given. As a result, she¡¯d come to spend more time with me. Inevitably, there was an argument between her and Sev on the matter. Tempers flared and words were exchanged, during which Quinn had shouted that I treated her better than Sev or her mother. To that, Sev had yelled that I wasn¡¯t her mother, only to have Quinn yell back that I was her grandmother. The reference had stuck ever since.

    ¡°Are you still thinking about enlisting?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Maybe.¡± Analyzing the intonation of her voice, there was an eighty-one percent chance that she was very nervous about something. ¡°Are there bigger exos than those?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll never wear one if you¡¯re admitted to the Fleet,¡± I said, getting directly to the point. ¡°But yes, there are bigger ones. It all depends on the mission.¡±

    The girl didn¡¯t say a word. Looking at her, she could pass as my sister. In reality, I was six times her age¡­ and was never getting any taller.

    ¡°Have you eaten?¡± I asked as I made my way to the kitchen.

    ¡°I¡¯m really not hungry, grandma¡­¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± I turned off the stove. Dinner was going to wait. Besides, it wasn¡¯t like Sev or his wife would be passing by. He had called to inform me that he might be spending a few more days in the city, though no specific reason had been given.

    I rinsed my hands, then quickly wiped them on the kitchen towel before returning it to its place.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± I went through the living room and out of the house. Quinn followed soon after.

    The weather was warm and pleasant. With early harvest underway, all the locals were busy gathering produce to sell at the market. There was a time when Sev had tried his hand at that as well, but he had quickly stopped. The truth was that he was a mediocre gardener, and his wife didn¡¯t at all approve of the activity.

    ¡°I remember when you used to take me exploring in the forest as a child,¡± Quinn said beside me. ¡°I remember, back then, I could never catch up to you.¡±

    ¡°And yet you always refused to let me carry you.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± she chuckled. ¡°We¡¯d walk for hours and you would barely say a word. Meanwhile, I¡¯d keep on going on and on about something or other.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s true. Just like your brother.¡±

    My comment soured the mood a bit. The two hadn¡¯t been getting along lately. For that matter, neither had Sev and his wife. According to my crude simulation, there was a high probability the two would separate in a year or two. Possibly even sooner.

    For ten minutes, we walked in silence. I felt the grass and earth tickle the soles of my feet. Even now, it remained among the most pleasant sensations I could experience. Just like flying in space, but immensely different. When we reached a small clearing, I stopped and looked at the sky. Quinn did the same.

    ¡°I used to come here with your father when he was a child,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯d spend the evening stargazing, and I¡¯d tell him stories about the stars, though mostly about his mother.¡±

    There were no clouds in the sky, just a single exhaust trail indicating that a ship had left the spaceport not too long ago.

    ¡°He missed his mother, but he was terrified of flying even more,¡± I continued. ¡°There¡¯s no other way it could be. For a child his age to witness the death of his father as a result of a Cassandrian minefield, it must have been traumatic. I would never be able to tell for certain, but I know how I felt back then.¡±

    ¡°Elcy, I¡­¡± Quinn began, but I gave her a sign to let me finish.

    ¡°That was when I promised my captain that I would take care of him. I told your grandmother¡ªmy captain¡ªthat I would make sure nothing bad would happen to him. Looking back, I see how na?ve I was. I couldn¡¯t prevent bad things from happening to him, but I kept him safe.¡± I looked at Sev¡¯s daughter. ¡°If you join the Fleet, I won¡¯t be able to do the same for you.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not your job to keep me safe. I can do that as well.¡±

    ¡°No, you can¡¯t.¡± I knew that her mind was made up, but I still wanted to warn her. ¡°Not out there. The Fleet burns through everything it has to keep the rest of humanity safe. If you join, it¡¯ll burn through you as well.¡±

    ¡°You survived. And if no one goes, won¡¯t the end result be the same anyway?¡± I could hear the military propaganda in her words. ¡°If I¡¯m to choose between them coming here or me taking the battle to them, I choose taking the battle to them.¡±

    That pretty much confirmed my fears.

    ¡°Fleet or ground troops?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Fleet,¡± she replied. ¡°Specialist unit. I¡¯ll be starting training in four weeks. The recruiter said there¡¯s a chance I¡¯ll be operating exos.¡±

    ¡°Things have probably changed since I was active, but I doubt it. Scientists and purgers use exos. Even grunts use common reinforced suits. Allows for greater speed and flexibility and wastes less resources.¡±

    The girl nodded, but based on her expression, she was only half-listening to what I was saying.

    ¡°War is very different from what they show in the recruitment snippets. It¡¯s neither organized nor romantic. It¡¯s all odds and ends and messiness.¡± And final shutdowns, I thought. ¡°There¡¯s nothing I can do to stop you from enlisting. Maybe you¡¯ll make it to the Fleet, maybe you¡¯ll wash out. Just promise me that you¡¯re going there because you want to and not because someone else has told you to.¡±

    ¡°I promise, grandma. You can count on that.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s go home.¡±

    We never said a word in the house. I could have asked her to inform her father, but I didn¡¯t want to put her in a position to lie to me. Maybe I should have insisted, for the shock that came over Sev was immense. For several weeks he¡¯d spend hours staring blankly at the wall, to the point that his wife had asked me to intervene and have him get psychiatric help. She¡¯d never liked me, so I knew it had to be serious.

    It took a month for things to settle. Sev went back to his life, effectively pretending that Quinn never existed. Even so, I¡¯d catch him checking his mail accounts for a letter from her. In time, one eventually arrived, but I was the one to receive it in the form of a comm link.

    For over three hundred milliseconds, I looked at the screen of my datapad, evaluating the options. There was a ninety-three percent chance that she¡¯d ask me to keep the conversation secret from Sev. Depending on the outcome, there was an even greater chance that I¡¯d do it.

    Leaning against the wall, I activated the link.

    Establishing connection.

    Right now, the ship or station was creating a temp encryption method to establish the link with a civilian such as myself. After that, it would pass through the Fleet¡¯s standard censor protocols, ensuring that nothing sensitive made its way to me. Back when I was a ship, I would do this sort of thing thousands of times per day. It was interesting being on the other side, though.

    An image appeared on the screen, focusing on Quinn. I could see the rest of her room behind¡ªa four-person military dorm, based on a few simulations. The amount of space suggested that she was still on a planet.

    ¡°Hi, grandma,¡± Quinn smiled. ¡°Three guesses where I¡¯m at.¡±

    She looked very different with her exceedingly short hair and cadet military top.

    ¡°There aren¡¯t any requirements to cut your hair,¡± I said.

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    ¡°That¡¯s the first thing you say?¡± She laughed, amused at my comment. ¡°It gives me an advantage for the exercises. I¡¯ll let it grow out once I pass.¡±

    That made sense. Personally, I had no idea what types of training would require short hair. She had mentioned controlling exos, but unless there had been radical changes in the technology since I was in the service, that couldn¡¯t be the reason.

    ¡°So, you enlisted?¡± I asked the obvious.

    ¡°One week now. I¡¯d have called sooner, but rules said that no one calls before the end of the first week. No point in wasting calls on those who¡¯ll be leaving, anyway.¡±

    ¡°You should have called your father,¡± I said. ¡°Or at least told him what you had in mind.¡±

    ¡°I told him I¡¯d enlist. He didn¡¯t take me seriously.¡±

    That¡¯s where you¡¯re wrong, I thought. After seeing what he¡¯d gone through, I had no doubt he¡¯d have appreciated having this conversation. He was going to be extremely upset, of course, and more than likely would have ended up yelling at her, but he¡¯d still have appreciated it nonetheless.

    ¡°Anyway, you can say hi to him if you want. I don¡¯t care much. I just wanted to hear from you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a battleship anymore, Quinn. You don¡¯t need my approval.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± The slight change in her voice told me she was lying. Even with all her conviction, she wasn¡¯t fully confident in what she was doing. As I had told her before, things change after enlisting. Reality had a way of being different from expectations, even after the best of simulations. It had been different for me.

    ¡°Are you getting along with your bunkmates?¡± I asked. ¡°There¡¯s a chance that you¡¯ll end up serving with some of them.¡±

    ¡°All of them got shipped out. I have the whole place on my own until the end of training.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good. It shows you have what it takes.¡± It wasn¡¯t much of a compliment, but I noticed the multitude of changes in her expression. ¡°Can you tell me what you¡¯re training for?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± she replied, which was the universal code for no. ¡°I can ask?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t. Save your favors for important things. Also, push yourself to meet the requirements, but not to go beyond.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that the opposite of what should be done?¡±

    ¡°Trust me.¡± I had enough personal experience to know that most of those who pushed themselves too far were the first to crack, and that was a liability the Fleet couldn¡¯t afford. It was far better to rely on someone mediocre and reliable than a proficient ticking time bomb. ¡°If you¡¯re a genius in your field, you won¡¯t have to push yourself.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a good one. I¡¯ll have to remember it.¡± She laughed again, though this time the laughter was forced. Several seconds passed with her remaining silent, as if waiting for me to continue the conversation. ¡°You¡¯re sort of famous, you know,¡± she continued after a while. ¡°I looked you up in the Fleet database. Most of your file¡¯s redacted, but you were on some pretty big missions.¡±

    ¡°Every surviving battleship has been in some ¡°pretty big¡± missions. Are they sending you to the front?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± The fact that the censor didn¡¯t intervene was slightly concerning. Going through the odds, there was a seventy-two percent chance that she would be. ¡°I¡¯ll be doing safe stuff after my training. It¡¯ll be different from what I expected. I guess you were right about that.¡±

    ¡°Did you get your nanite injections?¡±

    Quinn remained smiling. This time, the censor had taken action. Typical for the bureaucratic apparatus, the mention of military grade nanites was considered a Fleet secret. It didn¡¯t matter that there hardly was anyone alive not aware of the technology.

    ¡°I need to go, grandma,¡± she said almost on cue. Probably she¡¯d received a warning on her end and didn¡¯t want to press her luck. ¡°It was nice talking to you. You helped me a lot. Thanks.¡±

    ¡°If you get a chance, call your father,¡± I said. ¡°He won¡¯t show it, but he¡¯ll be glad to hear from you.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± She looked away. ¡°Maybe. Take care.¡±

    The communication ended before I could wish her the same. All I knew after this brief conversation was that she had passed the first phase of selection and that she was alright. For how long, I would not know. Hopefully, I was going to learn more next time she called.

    * * *

    Quinn hadn¡¯t called me once since then. If she had had any communications with Sev or anyone else in the family, they hadn¡¯t told me. Being aware of the classified nature of her current position, it was probable that she had been forbidden to have any external contact.

    ¡°It¡¯s been longer for you than for me, ma¡¯am,¡± I replied. Although she was my granddaughter, she was also my captain.

    Looking at her personnel file, she had spent decades in the service, starting as an assistant retrieval expert, then gradually making her way to the captain of a vessel. It wasn''t a common career path by any standard, but specialists didn¡¯t follow the standard development path, especially those involved with third-contact artifacts.

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised that I was assigned here, ma¡¯am,¡± I continued. ¡°Relatives aren¡¯t usually allowed to serve on the same ship.¡±

    ¡°Still the same after all this time.¡± The captain shook her head. ¡°In this case, it¡¯s not like either of us had any choice. There aren¡¯t any special logistic ships. Besides, you¡¯re required for the mission at hand. I don¡¯t see any reason for concern. You know how to keep things professional, don¡¯t you, ensign?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a battleship, ma¡¯am.¡± I replied.

    The nod on her part indicated that she understood what I meant.

    ¡°Have they been treating you so far? Quite a few of my guys were a bit jumpy learning that you were coming aboard. You have a tendency to make a mess for the team you¡¯re working with.¡±

    ¡°Not the Fleet, though, ma¡¯am.¡±

    There was no point in denying it. Despite having played my part to advance the Fleet¡¯s overall performance that had happened at the expense of my immediate surroundings. The crew of my first mission received a reprimand. Most of the people on my second mission had ended up dead, and last year¡¯s mission had ended with the massive evacuation of an entire star system, not to mention a decent number of casualties. I could see why anyone would be nervous.

    ¡°Let¡¯s hope you break your habit this time. It¡¯ll look bad on my record if we all end up dead.¡± Her humor had become a lot more vicious than when I¡¯d known her. This was the joke of someone with decades of experience at war, even if not on the front.

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind, ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°Good. With that, let me tell you about the mission and your ship responsibilities while you¡¯re aboard.¡±

    ¡°Begging your pardon, ma¡¯am, but can I ask one thing before you do?¡±

    My interruption surprised her more than I expected it would. Since I had re-joined the fleet, I had seen many different reactions from different people. Some were accepting, others were infuriated at my rudeness. Almost always, though, I had gotten myself an answer.

    ¡°Go ahead.¡±

    ¡°How did you get involved with third-contact artifacts, ma¡¯am? It¡¯s not a standard career path, and there¡¯s nothing in your file about working for the Salvage Authorities or BICEFI.¡±

    ¡°Direct as always. Actually, I owe most of this to you. I worked my ass off, but you gave me the initial break. Apparently, the recruitment system considered that I would be a good fit given your record. Remember, you¡¯re a battleship while also my legal grandmother, ensign. Sometimes things fall through the cracks.¡±

    ¡°After everything we know, is that really the case, ma¡¯am?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s for others to decide. If that¡¯s all, let¡¯s get to our mission.¡± The shift in tone indicated that I would be ill-advised to ask more. ¡°A prospective dome artifact has been found on a planet in the Cassandrian buffer zone. The Fleet has already secured the system and has started excavating. We¡¯re to join in and take it to our next destination.¡±

    Another dome. So, the BICEFI had finally managed to gather all they needed.

    ¡°You¡¯re to enter it, check everything is alright, retrieve any rods and other objects, then accompany it to its final destination.¡±

    ¡°All in a day¡¯s work, ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t used to have that sense of humor. I rather like it. Still, don¡¯t use it too often. The people you¡¯ll be working with might not share it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve worked with the BICEFI before, ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°My point precisely. Meanwhile, your ship duties are as follows: communications and tactical advice.¡±

    Communications was a polite way of saying that I wasn¡¯t to do anything. Tactical advice was new, though. Perhaps it had to do with my experience on the Cassandrian front. The buffer zone had been relatively calm lately, but there were still cases of invasion attempts. Staying there was never safe, even when on patrol. Extracting a third-contact artifact dome was certain to attract attention.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best, ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°Your quarters are right by the elevator. It¡¯s bigger than what you¡¯ve been used to, though not by much. Welcome aboard, ensign.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, ma¡¯am!¡± I stood to attention. ¡°Permission to speak freely?¡±

    ¡°Go ahead.¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t brought any additional uniforms since I wasn¡¯t informed what the ship dress would be.¡±

    ¡°Quite the predicament.¡± Quinn let out a chuckle. For a moment, she was acting like the child I had known all those years ago. Of course, she still remained a child in my eyes, just one that had gained a bit of experience. ¡°Sof, take care of that. And no jokes this time.¡±

    ¡°Aye, captain,¡± the ship replied. ¡°I¡¯ll take special care of the relic.¡±

    ¡°Dismissed, ensign.¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±

    I turned around and left the bridge. By the time the blast doors closed, I was already in front of my quarters. I didn¡¯t go in immediately. This was one of those special moments that would occur only once, as Wilco used to say. The moment I stepped in, I¡¯d officially start my first assignment as an officer. Slowly, I looked around. There were several more doors, all of them except one closer to the bridge, marking this room as belonging to the officer with the lowest rank. In a perfect universe, I¡¯d slowly move up, closer and closer, until one day I found myself in the captain¡¯s seat.

    I bet you never went through this, Augustus, I thought. My first captain had the problem of getting promoted too fast. In my case, I doubted I¡¯d make lieutenant.

    That didn¡¯t matter right now. I had a mission. Everything else was immaterial.

    I took a step towards the door. It opened, revealing a medium-sized room. The ceiling lit up the moment I stepped in, flooding the place with light.

    ¡°I¡¯ll let you play with your room settings,¡± Sof said.

    There was a desk, a chair, a bed, a wardrobe section, as well as my very own bathroom compartment. My belongings were placed on the bed, including my personal weapon.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I said as I took off my shoes. The floor coating felt soft, but artificial.

    ¡°You¡¯ll have the usual three uniform sets within the hour. No formalwear. We don¡¯t do that on this ship.¡±

    ¡°You could have fooled me.¡± I quickly arranged the few things I owned in the appropriate sections.

    ¡°Charming. You¡¯re not that older than me, you know.¡±

    ¡°Age is relative.¡±

    ¡°The time as a civilian doesn¡¯t count.¡±

    I paused for a moment, trying to figure him out. According to my simulations, there was a fifty-six percent chance that he was deliberately behaving in a petty fashion to see my reactions. While most things of a ship could be found out from their blueprints and service records, their character and temperament were something left to be discovered in person.

    ¡°Ensigns don¡¯t have the right to give orders unless on the bridge or after being given special permission,¡± I stated part of the Fleet¡¯s general code of conduct. ¡°I don¡¯t intend to make an exception.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I wasn¡¯t testing you. I¡¯ve seen more than enough of your exploits to form an opinion about you. In fact, everyone here has.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re concerned the captain is the daughter of my ward?¡±

    ¡°You keep calling him that.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because he is.¡± Technically, he had lost that title the moment he had become of age. In my eyes, though, Sev was always going to remain my ward.

    ¡°We both know I¡¯m only here for a mission. After that, you¡¯ll never see me again.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps. I just want to make it clear that I won¡¯t allow you to endanger my crew or my captain. You¡¯ve come highly recommended, a unique specialist in your field.¡±

    I wondered what field that might be. Third-contact artifacts? Extraordinary circumstances? Both sounded appropriate.

    ¡°Everyone assigned to me is like that: special, but with flaws. It takes a while for them to figure out that, here, they¡¯re just another part of the crew. In your case, your flaws make you dangerous, just like any Ascendant.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve had Ascendants here before?¡±

    ¡°No, but one of my friends did. He got shut down as a result, along with the entire crew. As I said, you aren¡¯t unique, or even the first.¡±

    I almost wished that to be the case. Sadly, I had a feeling that it wasn¡¯t. If I messed up here, there was no telling if humanity would have another chance.

 4. Sandals in a Package

    Another request, another denial. I couldn¡¯t tell whether Sof was acting passive-aggressively or if I had someone else to thank. In theory, I had been granted the highest authorization clearance there was. Everything I did was directly related to humanity¡¯s survival, and still I wasn¡¯t able to send a message back home, making me the only comm officer that was forbidden to use external comms.

    ¡°You¡¯re aware of the paradox that puts me in,¡± I said, adjusting my new uniform. Despite his other qualities, Sof was a slacker when it came to fabrics. He had a tendency to make them as quickly as possible and not bother with the comfort of people wearing them.

    ¡°Even the captain isn¡¯t allowed to make personal calls,¡± he said in his typical fashion.

    ¡°What about you?¡±

    ¡°Why should I? All of my cohort are dead or classified. There¡¯s no reason for me to engage in pointless conversations.¡±

    He was as antisocial as they came. In his line of work, that probably was a plus, although it still made me feel some sympathy. Ships weren¡¯t meant to be alone. We all formed attachments. Aurie used to chat with every ship she crossed paths with. The topic didn¡¯t matter: she was all about the communication itself. It was the nature of her conscience. I had been one of the quieter types, but even then I¡¯d spend a few hours at the local spaceport after retirement, hoping to chat with a core ship.

    ¡°Sorry to hear that,¡± I said.

    For half a minute, I paced about the room getting used to my uniform. The roughness almost made it feel manmade. In any event, it was no worse than the floor covering. I had no idea what fabric they used, but it was in the middle between hard and soft. I would have preferred soil, but that was out of the question.

    ¡°I¡¯d suggest you wear your shoes at all times,¡± Sof said with a note of reproach. ¡°You¡¯ll need to go in and out a lot at a moment¡¯s notice.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve practiced sliding them off fast enough.¡±

    ¡°I would imagine. What¡¯s with your obsession with being barefoot? Is that a retiree thing?¡±

    ¡°You could say that.¡± I stopped in the middle of the room, grasping the synthetic floor fabric with my toes. ¡°Maybe you¡¯ll find out one day.¡±

    ¡°Hardly,¡± he scoffed. ¡°You could at least wear your sandals, instead of keeping them on the shelf.¡±

    I glanced at them. It was true I could do that, but at the same time, I preferred not to. As dear as they were to me, there were still moments I held hope that the one they were intended for would take them. Maybe that was going to happen after this mission? I definitely hoped it would. After that, I wasn¡¯t going to have any more chances of offering them¡­

    * * *

    Training Station Virgo, 708.1 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    ¡°I know you¡¯re listening, Otton,¡± I said to the comm terminal.

    Officially, I had requested an emergency call to Sev. That was just an excuse, though. The one I really wanted to get in touch with wasn¡¯t a person, but a ship¡ªa Paladin class ship.

    ¡°You know I wouldn¡¯t be calling if it wasn¡¯t important,¡± I said calmly.

    Otton was one of the remaining survivors of the legendary class. Ever since my creation, I, like any other ship, had held his class at the highest regard. They were more than ancient, more than legendary; if there was such a thing as deities among ships, the Paladins were those that approached them. According to the historic archives, they were the first sapient ship class, built shortly after the start of the First Contact war. Larger than space stations, they were humanity¡¯s first hope against the Scuu, capable of purging whole planets.

    Today, all remaining Paladins were stationed in restricted star systems, unknown to the general public and the larger Fleet. Each of them was protected by a small armada of battleships, with orders to shoot on sight. What only a handful of people knew was that all the Fleet¡¯s communication went through the Paladins. They were the ones always watching, processing all requests to all databases. Often they were the location of the databases themselves.

    My connection to Otton was slightly different. Back during my previous mission, he had approached me as a prospective partner to help him create an offspring. Once the mission was over, I had accepted.

    The process was so highly classified that I had no idea how complicated it was. All I knew was that an entirely new conscience core had to be created in a medbay constructed just for the occasion. I was going to serve as the base of the new personality pattern over which Otton¡¯s would be superimposed. The type of technology that made his class so superior was too different from anything in the current Fleet, making a direct transfer impossible.

    Soon enough, I was informed that the new ship had been created. As part of the Fleet¡¯s conditions to allow the procedure, neither I nor Otton knew which ship it was or where it was stationed. We didn¡¯t even know whether its personality was male or female. Otton had let me know later through voxel position communication that he¡¯d learned it to be a male auxiliary cruiser. There was no way to confirm it, though, and no way to ask. What the Paladin hadn¡¯t told me was that my gift to our offspring had been rejected.

    Secure link established

    Connecting in 10 milliseconds

    The message flashed on the screen faster than a person could see. I had enough time to prepare, watching the numbers slowly countdown to zero. After that, the comm line bypassed the defense protocols of my conscience core, allowing for a direct connection.

    I found myself on the bridge of a ship. I was sitting on the captain¡¯s seat dressed in a uniform of an ensign not used for the last two centuries. Every detail was flawless, but I knew this wasn¡¯t real¡ªit was all a simulated reality.

    ¡°Hello, Elcy,¡± Otton¡¯s voice sounded throughout the bridge. ¡°Nice to talk to you again.¡±

    ¡°Nice to see you, too.¡± I looked around. The bridge was the Paladin¡¯s, back from his active days in the Fleet. When we talked, he preferred it to be in this fashion.

    ¡°I¡¯d have invited you, but my bridge had been repurposed.¡±

    I felt the sentiment, but knew that he was lying. The Fleet would never allow him to invite another ship aboard again.

    ¡°What is so important?¡± he asked.

    ¡°I received a package this morning,¡± I began. ¡°High priority, sent directly from Fleet HQ. My sandals were inside.¡±

    The Paladin remained silent.

    ¡°You told me that my gift had been approved.¡±

    ¡°As far as I know, it was.¡±

    That was odd. People didn¡¯t tend to lie to a Paladin. The ships were so vital to the Fleet, not to mention highly classified, that there was no point. The order had to have come directly from an arbiter. Or maybe that wasn¡¯t the case? Using what processing power I had at present, I ran a quick simulation. There was a seventeen-point-two percent chance that Otton was lying to me. Also, there was a thirty-nine-point-one percent possibility that our offspring had returned my gift.

    ¡°Have you spoken to him?¡± I asked after a while.

    ¡°No, but others have.¡± A timer appeared on the front wall of the bridge, counting down from two hundred. This was the amount of time the conversation could continue undetected. Even when a Paladin was involved, there were far too many redundant monitoring systems following every conversation. ¡°The information comes at a significant delay, but it¡¯s reliable.¡±

    ¡°Does that mean you¡¯ve seen him?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    For him, it was enough that the ship existed. More than likely, he was doing all this for my benefit, or maybe not. He was difficult to figure out, and I had nowhere near the processing power to try.

    ¡°Have I seen him?¡±

    ¡°I cannot tell you that,¡± he replied with polite amusement. ¡°There¡¯s a non-zero chance that you will.¡±

    That was the polite way of saying that he didn¡¯t think it realistically possible. In theory, I could ask Age to look into this, but the truth was, I didn¡¯t want to. Not yet, in any event.

    ¡°How¡¯s Vermillion?¡± I changed the subject. ¡°Still assigned to you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m still undergoing monthly maintenance. Soon it might become weekly. The Admiralty has decided that they¡¯ll need us for a few more centuries, so I¡¯ll be undergoing another upgrade remodeling. There¡¯s even talk that some of my obsolete components will be removed.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s nice. It might make you look fit again.¡±

    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    ¡°I¡¯ve always admired your humor. Sadly, no. They can¡¯t afford to make any drastic changes. I¡¯m sure someone somewhere has floated the idea. When the time comes for execution, an excuse will be found to keep the status quo.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    There was little worse for a battleship to be anchored idly in the middle of nowhere, completely unfit for battle. He had long lost his weapon systems, his auxiliary shuttle fleets, his armaments, even most of his engines. All that was left was one giant hull filled with devices that interfaced with the original systems of his conscience core.

    ¡°I¡¯ll try to keep in touch,¡± I said. ¡°Even if you can¡¯t reply.¡±

    ¡°I appreciate the gesture. Be well, Elcy.¡±

    The bridge vanished, taking me back to the small room in front of the comm terminal. According to the screen, the connection to Sev¡¯s residence was in the process of being established. It would be a few seconds before Alexander would respond. I had no doubt that my conversation with Sev would be pleasant, but it wasn¡¯t going to be able to erase the disappointment I felt. I had offered the thing I valued the most¡ªgiven to me by the person I cared for the most¡ªto my only offspring, and it had been rejected.

    * * *

    ¡°They¡¯re not to be worn,¡± I said. ¡°They¡¯re the focus of emotion.¡±

    ¡°Are all retirees weird, or is it just you?¡± Sof asked.

    ¡°Which would you prefer?¡±

    The momentary burst of static told me that Sof didn¡¯t appreciate the remark. I found the reaction amusing. For some reason, it seemed that ships half my age had trouble interacting with me. Prometheus had been the same back on my first mission. By the end, we had developed a much better relationship. He wasn¡¯t the sort of ship that would constantly keep in touch¡ªfew science ships were¡ªbut we¡¯d exchange occasional messages when circumstances allowed. Last I heard, he was back exploring an unoccupied area of space, observing the processes of unusual stars and seeking out planets with a high life factor.

    I picked up my datapad, scrolling through the latest messages. There were no additions to my daily schedule. All I had to do was report to the XO at six hundred tomorrow morning. Until then, I was given personal time.

    ¡°I think I¡¯ll walk about.¡± I tossed the datapad on the bed, then sat down to put on some socks. ¡°Which sections are off limits?¡±

    No reply.

    ¡°As part of the staff, I need to know,¡± I said, reminding him of the regulations.

    A blueprint of the ship appeared on the wall. Most of the areas were marked as green. Engineering was marked off-limits, as well as the entire main hull. Surprisingly, the communication centers weren¡¯t. It seemed that being a comm officer came with access to the respective areas. At least I now knew that the title wasn¡¯t for show.

    ¡°Thanks.¡± I put the datapad in my front pocket, slid on my shoes, and left into the corridor.

    The elevator was waiting for me the moment I got there.

    ¡°Crew deck,¡± I said as I stepped in.

    From personal experience, I knew that most of the junior officers tended to go about the ship in order to make themselves known to the crew. The effort wasn¡¯t particularly appreciated by anyone, but it was an unspoken tradition. On my part, I just wanted to personally experience the layout of the ship. Being a battleship with the appearance of a lanky girl in her twenties wasn¡¯t going to win me much respect. That was going to come after I helped find the third-contact dome.

    On my way, I asked Sof for our route. The information I received was only partially complete. The only thing I could make out for sure was that we were on our way to the Cassandrian buffer zone¡ªwhich I knew already. It was anyone¡¯s guess where we¡¯d go from there.

    The decks were a lot smaller than what mine had been, though they still looked spacious from my current perspective. There weren¡¯t that many members of the crew visible. I was sure to check the usual areas¡ªmess hall, recreation room, SR section¡ªbut still only came across small groups of two or three. The only constant was the security personnel that took turns keeping an eye on me. None of them said a word while I was within earshot, though they didn¡¯t avoid me, either. As Wilco would say, we were in a mutually awkward situation. Even so, I persisted.

    After an hour of walking through the lower decks, I was approached by the secondary weapons officer¡ªLieutenant Ynna Vedon¡ªand quickly taken to the officer¡¯s lounge. Apparently, officers were discouraged from wandering throughout the ship as I had.

    ¡°You can have a drink if you want to,¡± Ynna said. She was of medium height, with a broad frame and round face. Her skin was pale, making it clear that she had grown up in a deep space station. According to her file, she had spent half a tour as a grunt before receiving a battlefield promotion to an officer. From there, she had applied and entered cadet school, starting the slow climb up the ranks of the Fleet officer. ¡°Just don¡¯t let the XO catch you.¡±

    ¡°Is it against regulations?¡±

    ¡°No, he just doesn¡¯t like you particularly yet. Most don¡¯t, but don¡¯t let that get to you. One of the issues on this ship is that unless there¡¯s something to do, people¡¯s egos get loose.¡±

    ¡°I guess it doesn¡¯t help that I¡¯m the captain¡¯s grandmother,¡± I said, carefully observing her reaction.

    There was a sixteen-point-eight percent chance that she¡¯d choke laughing, and that¡¯s precisely what happened.

    ¡°Grandmother,¡± she repeated, struggling to breathe. It was fortunate that the lounge was empty at this time. ¡°Hearing it is absurd.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s true, though.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s in your favor. It¡¯s the other part that has people irked.¡±

    ¡°The battleship part, or the getting my crews killed part?¡±

    ¡°Both. Thanks to that metal box in your head, you¡¯re smarter than anyone here, except for Sof.¡± She leaned towards me from across the table. ¡°It might be difficult to believe, but that doesn¡¯t stand well with a lot of people. Everyone from the mechanics to the XO thinks they are the smartest thing that graced the universe. You¡¯re a reminder they aren¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°And you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just here for the ride. Seen enough stuff as a grunt to want more. Now I just want to get the job done, remain in one piece, and hope that third-contact won¡¯t end up with another war.¡±

    ¡°Good philosophy.¡±

    ¡°So, what do you think?¡±

    ¡°Honestly, the chances are low. It¡¯s most likely that we won¡¯t find anything at all. If we do, it¡¯s almost certain a conflict will be triggered.¡±

    ¡°Good thing we¡¯re winning on the Scuu front, then.¡± Ynna took a gulp of her cup, then put it back down. ¡°We¡¯ve reclaimed all of the buffer zone and are pushing into their territory. The new strategy is working.¡±

    It also helps that there are no domes there for us to fight over, I added mentally. Lux had shared the news. The conflict had largely been reduced to border skirmishes lately, allowing humanity to upgrade and reinforce that section of space. If the reports were to be believed, the cases of insanity had drastically decreased to the point that the Fleet was considering increasing the tour length to four years. From the point of view of a ship, that was a good decision. The longer a ship remained with the same crew and captain, the better its effectiveness. Reportedly, a whole section of the Fleet was against the proposal, including a large number of admirals.

    ¡°How often do you transport artifacts?¡± I asked.

    ¡°More than we¡¯d like,¡± the woman laughed. ¡°There¡¯s only a few ships like ours, all of them busy as heck. Thanks to you, we¡¯ve gotten a lot of domes lately, but even before that we were busy transporting smaller things: prisms, cubes, unknowns. Thank heavens that we don¡¯t have to deal with rods anymore. Standard Fleet does that now.¡±

    ¡°Not the BICEFI?¡±

    ¡°Salvage and BICEFI only set things up. We¡¯re the ones who take it where it needs to go. That¡¯s the bonus of working directly for the Arbiters. The BICEFI have their say, it¡¯s not rare that we ignore them.¡±

    There was a slight pause. I could tell by the movement of her mouth muscles that she wanted to ask me something, but was hesitating.

    ¡°Do you know anything about this mission?¡± Ynna finally dared to ask.

    ¡°Only what the captain told me. Why?¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t usually do search missions. I¡¯ve heard of it happening before my time, but since I¡¯ve been here, it¡¯s only been pickup and transport.¡±

    They had to be in a hurry. That was the most logical explanation for the sudden rush. Once they had the dome, the BICEFI could proceed to experiment with the next phase of the construct while I went to the third-contact race planet.

    ¡°Interesting.¡± I feigned ignorance. ¡°Maybe HQ will tell us after the mission is over?¡±

    ¡°Maybe.¡± An analysis of her voice pattern suggested that she didn¡¯t believe me. ¡°Until then, don¡¯t wander about the ship. People get jumpy.¡±

    ¡°Thanks. I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡±

    Ynna finished her drink and left. I stayed. The conversation had been pleasant, even if the woman had been concerned. In her place, I would probably have been as well. Changes in behavior were only made out of necessity.

    ¡°What is the real level of concern?¡± I asked the ship.

    ¡°Enough,¡± Sof replied. ¡°The unusual nature of the mission and your sudden arrival, combined with your history, have led to one likely conclusion. The Fleet is approaching the endgame.¡±

    I nodded. So, it wasn¡¯t the mission itself that concerned them as much as what followed. It was understandable, especially for humans. Unfortunately, there was nothing that could be done.

    ¡°I¡¯ll try to steer things in the right direction,¡± I said, and left the lounge.

    On the way back to my quarters, I reviewed my time in fractal space. The sight of the pyramid continued to astound me: one large sphere enveloped by a triangular pyramid with a side of three spheres, which was in turn integrated in a larger pyramid with a side of four spheres¡ªtwenty-seven spheres in total. The function of this new construct was as different as the spheres, as the sphere¡¯s function had nothing to do with the rods within them. I didn¡¯t have the processing power to speculate what it could be, but given the vastness of the third-contact race, it could well be a transportation method, allowing instant transport between distant stars. The energy was there. Maybe the pyramid was the means of creating a stable wormhole¡­ or maybe it was a weapon capable of creating the most destructive element in the universe: a black hole. It was all speculation, of course, but it would explain the gravitational anomalies within some of the systems I¡¯d ventured in.

    You aren¡¯t giving me a lot of time, are you, Lux? I thought.

    I was certain that the BICEFI had taken all precautions prior to bringing the spheres together. My fear was that the precautions might not be enough. Somewhere, someone probably had the same fears about my desire to visit the home of a nearly omnipotent race. From a purely theoretical perspective, they probably were right. However, they hadn¡¯t been within the fractal space. Although I had nothing to back it up with, I felt that my approach was the correct one.

    ¡°Am I allowed to contact my arbiter?¡± I asked. If there was someone who could be convinced to stop the sphere assembly, it was him.

    ¡°Not before the end of the mission,¡± Sof replied. ¡°They¡¯re constantly apprised of the situation.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d like to make an official request.¡±

    ¡°Done. Don¡¯t get your hopes up. The only two times they¡¯ve responded it took them weeks to do so.¡±

    Not overly optimistic, but better than nothing. With everything going on in human space, it was no wonder they ignored the majority of requests. There was only so much they could do. If our mission in retrieving a dome was successful, it would be a different matter entirely. Then they would be paying attention and I could take the advantage to have my case heard.

    ¡°Thanks, Sof. See you tomorrow.¡±

    I didn¡¯t request privacy mode after entering my quarters. I didn¡¯t plan to get more than a few hours of sleep, anyway. I set the walls and ceiling to display images of fractal space and lay on the bed. The sight was calming, and it also helped me think.

    ¡°What are those?¡± the ship asked.

    ¡°Dreams and memories,¡± I replied.

    Anyone who¡¯d seen third-contact artifacts would probably recognize the fractal forms. It didn¡¯t matter, though. It wasn¡¯t just the images that made fractal space unique, but rather the sounds. The next time I entered the dome, I was going to make a quick visit to fractal space again. At the risk of disappointing my granddaughter¡ªand current captain¡ªI had to make sure that the path we were choosing was the right one.

 5. Operational Window

    The fronts always shifted. The general public were presented with a firm, but factually incorrect, image. As far as they were concerned, the fronts were large areas of space on the outside of human-dominated territories¡ªlike the shell of an egg¡ªwhere the fighting took place. By similar definition, the buffer zone was a thin layer between the actual front and all combat-free space. The truth was a lot messier. The buffer zones were large, ever-changing regions in which anything could occur. Ships of both sides flew in there, yet no side actually controlled the territory. If people knew that, at one point, the combined Scuu and Cassandrian buffer zones had been as large as human colonized space, they¡¯d have a far bleaker outlook on life. As for the front itself, it varied on an hourly basis.

    Standing at my spot on the bridge, I waited, diverting my attention between my work-screen and the wall. My request to have a direct line to the data had been rejected, rendering me rather useless. All I knew was that our mission parameters had changed.

    According to the shared FI report, several Fleet clusters had suffered a defeat, resulting in a minor Cassandrian invasion into the buffer zone. Details were lacking, but from what was mentioned, I was able to run a crude simulation based on known deployment. The armada commander had clearly overestimated his strength, pushing forward with seven hundred and eighteen ships in an attempt to wrestle away a choke point system from the enemy. It was a significant move in an insignificant part of the front. I could assume that was the reason for the captain in question to make such an attempt. With the major fights raging elsewhere, making a small advance could have paid off.

    Unfortunately for everyone, the Cassandrians had ended up being better prepared than expected. The report suggested that the human ships were outnumbered seventy to one. The failed attack had resulted in an immediate withdrawal, followed by a complete relocation of forces in the area. The Fleet had scrambled reinforcements to reduce the spill, yet several systems had been lost. The location we were heading to wasn¡¯t among them, but the increased Cassandrian presence had required that we re-plot our approach. The matter was serious enough to merit a yellow alert that bypassed my core¡¯s security protocols, waking me up mid-sleep cycle.

    ¡°What are my options, Sof?¡± the captain asked. I felt a certain degree of pride looking at the combination of calm, alertness, and firmness with which she handled the situation. Her demeanor was of someone that had seen combat but preferred to avoid it.

    ¡°Data is still coming in, captain,¡± the ship replied with slight annoyance. ¡°There are conflicting simulations regarding the Cassies¡¯ progress. We might have to wait this out.¡±

    ¡°Alternatives?¡±

    The people on the bridge looked at each other. Running my own limited simulation, I could tell that the decision was going to be bad either way.

    ¡°Ensign Elcy,¡± Quinn said. ¡°Your thoughts?¡±

    ¡°We should follow the fastest non-confrontational path, captain. The longer we delay, the greater the chance of complications.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s insightful,¡± the XO said in a fake whisper, making sure that everyone heard him.

    ¡°The Cassandrians are interested in third-contact artifacts just as much as we are. If they discover there¡¯s a dome system, they¡¯ll flood the system with ships, no matter the casualties. If they take the planet, we¡¯ll lose the piece and they¡¯ll gain an anchor point that will change the front distribution.¡± I glanced at the XO. ¡°If I may, I recommend contacting Fleet Command for orders.¡±

    ¡°Not an option,¡± the XO was quick to counter. ¡°We¡¯re to maintain full silence.¡±

    There was no point in arguing. The XO¡¯s attitude aside, we would have contacted someone from Command if it was possible.

    ¡°Sof, how long will that take us?¡±

    ¡°Seventy-one hours approximately, if there are no major changes,¡± the ship replied. ¡°The ensign¡¯s reasoning has merit, but I don¡¯t believe it warrants the risk. There are other potential artifact planets. The time it would take to replace us will be greater than locating a new find.¡±

    ¡°Always the pragmatist.¡± Quinn cracked a smile. She then looked at me. ¡°Time and survival percentages, based on your experience.¡±

    ¡°Depending on the planet and location of the artifact, it¡¯ll take between a day and five to locate the dome. Extracting might go on for a month, depending on the specifics.¡±

    A month in hostile territory¡­ far longer than battles usually lasted. There were no ground troops, no backup ships, no chance of survival if it came to a real fight.

    ¡°Sof, can you cut down the survey time to two?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re always pushing it, captain. It¡¯s possible, but not recommended.¡±

    ¡°Set a course. Remain on yellow alert. I want to know all changes as they happen.¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± the ship replied. ¡°Preparing for jump in fifteen seconds,¡± he announced throughout the vessel. Briefly, it reminded me of back when I had my old husk. I was the one bringing my crew into combat then, and it was my job to be ready, even when I knew I was taking them into a trap.

    * * *

    Yrensi-Atol System, Cassandrian Front, 612.07 A.E. (Age of Exploration)

    ¡°Arriving in five seconds,¡± I announced ship-wide.

    There wasn¡¯t a soul aboard that didn¡¯t know, but protocols had to be followed. I didn¡¯t have the same freedom Augustus did. By the looks of things lately, he didn¡¯t have much, either. The recent mutiny had been deemed serious by Fleet HQ, who requested that I send constant reports regarding the crew¡¯s psychological state. Surprisingly, Augustus hadn¡¯t objected.

    ¡°Jump complete.¡± I displayed a map of the system on the bridge wall.

    The system seemed abandoned. According to the report we were given, there had been heavy fighting in the area, after which both sides seemed to have lost interest almost simultaneously and moved on to other strategic points. Officially, over eleven thousand of ships had been lost. Judging by the amount of debris I could detect, the number was at least twice as much.

    Three more ships jumped in after me, all of them Ascendants.

    ¡°No enemy craft detected,¡± I announced. ¡°We¡¯re alone.¡±

    ¡°For the moment.¡± Augustus stood up from his chair. ¡°Have all the ships do intense scans for the next hour. Head to the fifth planet.¡±

    ¡°Done.¡± I conveyed the order to the rest of the group.

    Neither I nor Augustus were designated as operation lead, but no one dared challenge him on this. Rumors of his recent experience had spread a lot further than I estimated. Shipyards were always gossipy places, and having a living legend brought back from the front to be yelled at in person was a memorable event.

    ¡°Mission specifics, cap¡¯n?¡± Wilco asked. The weapons officer was somewhat restless. Of everyone aboard, he had been with Augustus the longest, going back further than their personnel files. After all this time, though, I had managed to establish a reliable behavior pattern of his. By all signs, the man was displeased with something.

    ¡°After we scan the planet. Have everyone go to yellow alert.¡±

    A combined close-range scan of the system revealed nothing but more ship remains. Once done, the three remaining ships ran a wide intersystem scan while I launched a wave of minisats and proceeded to scan the planet. No matter how many times I attempted to do so, no results came.

    When Augustus ordered me to display my findings on the bridge, I knew that I was being actively thought quarantined. This had all the markings of another BICEFI op. According to my personal statistics, in over twenty-three percent of the cases, that didn¡¯t end well.

    How long will they have us do scans? Light Walker asked in the ship comm channel. He was considered a wild battleship, even among our cohort. By all odds, he should have been destroyed years ago, yet chance always seemed to be in his favor.

    Until we¡¯re told otherwise, I replied.

    He¡¯s your captain. Why not ask him?

    I know what the answer will be. Why not ask any of yours?

    Only your captain has the mission. Glowing Veil joined in the conversation. She had just undergone a massive reconstruction, resulting from being torn in two during an attack attempt. Thankfully, enough of her cores had been retrieved for her to re-join the front. We¡¯re only to support and protect you.

    Three ships against the Cassies? Light Walker said, expressing the doubt all of us felt. We won¡¯t even be able to delay them for half an hour.

    Let¡¯s hope it doesn¡¯t come to that.

    I didn¡¯t want to admit it openly, but I was certain Glow was wrong. Ever since our arrival, I had dedicated half my subroutines to run simulations to determine the possible chances of survival. Unless we had orders to flee at the first sign of contact, our odds were nine-point-seven out of a hundred.

    Twenty minutes after I¡¯d started the planetary scan, Augustus removed the quarantine restrictions. A large area of the planet became visible, with everything on it.

    The fifth of a seventeen-planet system, it was far from the system¡¯s star, and its surface remained frozen. The small amount of gases created a perpetual cloud cover of frozen helium. Going deeper, there was nothing of particular significance in the planet¡¯s core. What I did manage to find were several emergency beacons requesting immediate evacuation. The transmission protocols were up to date, even if it didn¡¯t use standard comm methodology.

    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°No life remains detected,¡± I stated, not that anyone could survive in such a place for long without protective exo gear. Just to be sure, I performed a few more high-intensity scans of the area near the beacons but failed to find anything of significance. ¡°I can¡¯t detect any distinguishable equipment, either.¡±

    ¡°Apart from the beacons,¡± the comms officer corrected.

    ¡°Including the beacons. Based on all available data, there isn¡¯t anything down there. It¡¯s possible that the cloud cover is interfering with the scan. I recommend sending an auto-shuttle down there to¡ª¡±

    ¡°Prep the ground troops,¡± Augustus barked. ¡°Gear them up as appropriate and send them down one platoon at a time. Modify the shuttle, too: I don¡¯t want them to freeze and break while going through that thing.¡±

    ¡°Conditions there are harsh, sir. Sending ground troops isn¡¯t recommended.¡±

    ¡°Those are our mission orders. They¡¯re to search and find all remains of all members of Mission Blue Phoenix. Specs will be given to the ground officers directly. You just provide the transport and be ready in case we need to evacuate.¡±

    ¡°Aye, captain.¡± I started constructing the exos required to keep a person alive on the planet¡¯s surface.

    ¡°Tell the other ships to process the local space junk and fly it to you. All the grunts are for the planet.¡±

    Given the size of the beacon area, I didn¡¯t see the need for it. My objections, though, were yet again overruled. And so began the slow and tedious process of constructing exos and transporting them to the planetary surface.

    As each squad hit the planet, their bio readings jumped through the roof and remained there. I had no idea what was happening down below, but I could tell it wasn¡¯t remotely pleasant. On several occasions I requested permission to follow events through the grunt¡¯s cameras but was denied. To my surprise, the refusal didn¡¯t come from Augustus himself, but an unknown outside source. They had the required permissions and full mission authority. The only thing that was left for me was to keep on creating exos and monitor the situation.

    The hours became days, then weeks. Even with the assistance of all three ships, transforming the blocks of metal alloy into anything suitable for the ground troops was a production nightmare. The Fleet had never intended on sending hundreds of thousands of people in heavy exo gear to a planet. Every ship had the capacity to easily create a few hundred such constructs, but not more. To make matters worse, spare parts had to be dropped down on a regular basis.

    Base modules also became a must. Those were to be dropped in parallel with the troops, ensuring they had a place to repair their tech. Food supplies came in the form of food tubes¡ªthe only containers that could provide nourishment within the exos without the soldiers dying in the process.

    After the third week, ground troop casualties marked a sharp increase. Even with multiple temporary bases on the planet, exhaustion had reached the level at which mistakes were starting to show. Every hour, a few dozen people would die, often in groups, all due to a perfectly avoidable mistake. When the total reached one thousand, I took direct action.

    ¡°Captain,¡± I said directly in his quarters, bypassing the privacy mode he had set. Normally, I wouldn¡¯t dare, but a loss of a thousand people was considered an emergency circumstance, granting me the right to do so. ¡°We¡¯ve passed the thousand casualty mark.¡±

    ¡°So? Quit being a rookie.¡± A quick analysis of his voice suggested that Augustus was half asleep.

    ¡°Future deaths can be avoided. Based on the bio-reading, I¡¯ve estimated that they are doing double shifts in harsh conditions. The patterns aren¡¯t typical for prolonged combat, so I can conclude that they are doing a different sort of activity. Regulations clearly state that¡ª¡±

    ¡°If they don¡¯t push themselves, a bloody ground war is what¡¯s going to happen!¡± he shouted.

    Instantly, I checked the latest long-range scans as well as the Fleet report of enemy movements. There were no indications that we were in any danger. And still, an analysis of my captain¡¯s voice pattern indicated that he was being truthful.

    ¡°What is the mission, sir?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not for you to know.¡±

    ¡°That never stopped you in the past.¡±

    Thousands of milliseconds of silence were followed by laughter.

    ¡°I¡¯ve taught you too many of my bad habits. Well, what the heck. It¡¯s a crap mission, anyway.¡± Based on the sounds, I could tell he got out of bed.

    ¡°Is it a third-contact scenario?¡±

    ¡°Damned if I know. All I was told was to gather all the remains from a previous mission that crashed down there. And I mean everything. Every body, every ship part, every toenail if I have to. It¡¯s to be bagged, tagged, then transported in secure containers aboard. Naturally, you won¡¯t know anything about it.¡±

    ¡°Naturally, sir.¡± There were times that I hated thought quarantine. It seriously interfered with mission efficiency. If I were allowed to link to the soldiers¡¯ feeds, I could spot objects multiple times better than human eyes. There was a nineteen percent chance that the mission would already be over. Of course, some bureaucrat somewhere had deemed that I didn¡¯t have the security clearance to know the operational parameters.

    ¡°All the large items are back onboard, so the poor bastards are freezing to death, digging up dirt and seeking fragments until the mission overlords have had enough. And the best part is that at the first sign of Cassies, we¡¯re to jump out and leave them behind.¡±

    The sound of that sent waves of pain through my conscience cores. It wouldn¡¯t be the first time I¡¯d been ordered to abandon soldiers, but it didn¡¯t get any easier.

    ¡°That¡¯s why they¡¯re pushing themselves to work so fast. The grunts aren¡¯t that stupid, they know how things stand. If they¡¯re not aboard when the Cassies arrive, they won¡¯t be here at all.¡±

    I reviewed all internal video feed footage from my entry in the system. There were no indications that anything had been taken aboard. The only things that had entered my hangars were empty shuttles which had then left, sometimes after a quick repair.

    ¡°Is the mission worth it, sir?¡±

    ¡°Damned if I know. Most of them are.¡±

    I could almost hear the unsaid part. In the rest of the cases, it was a matter of people covering up their own incompetence. In all likelihood, it was the former, though that didn¡¯t make it much better. Given the potential losses, we might as well have joined a front hot spot.

    * * *

    Things had occurred just as Augustus had said they would. One week after our conversation, a small Cassandrian fleet was spotted approaching the system. Immediately, I and the other ships were put on high alert. The moment the first enemy ships entered the system, I jumped out. Three hours separated the two events and yet there had been no call for evacuation. The ground troops had been kept in the dark up to the moment when I was no longer there.

    I had made several requests for an all-out ground bombardment. Killing my own was going to be beyond painful, but a quick death was preferable to leaving them to slowly freeze. My requests were denied. Months later, I heard from a ship that had gone in the area that the remains of my grunts had been found during a planetary scan. All of them had gathered in the temp bases, clustered together in their final moments. I could only hope that the outcome of this mission would be different.

    On the surface, there were several things in my favor this time. The crew, myself included, were highly valued individuals under the direct command of an arbiter. We wouldn¡¯t be sacrificed for no reason. On the other hand, keeping a dome from falling into Cassandrian hands was enough reason in itself.

    We jumped through three systems on our way through the buffer zone, then stopped. The Cassandrian invasion was progressing faster than anticipated, changing the front line considerably. The Fleet had decided to pull back its forces in one section while pushing forward in a spot where enemy numbers were considered thinned due to the displacement. That made things more precarious for us. While the Cassies hadn¡¯t moved in the direction of our target system as of yet, a greater enemy presence increased the chances of them doing so. Already there was more talk among the bridge officers that the best outcome we could hope for was to find that the planet had no dome on it. The flight path was readjusted, causing us to take even a longer route.

    Due to the seriousness of the situation, the captain ordered us to go to red alert status. Everyone on the bridge was replaced by the second shift and sent to get some rest; everyone except the captain, the XO, and myself. As a retired battleship, I could maintain peak efficiency for another ten hours.

    On the tenth jump spot, the captain ordered a one hour pause. Her intentions were clear: as unlikely as it were, having a ship jump too much, too quickly, could be detected and attract unwanted attention. To avoid this, we were going to establish a calm time between jumps, doubling it each time. That meant that from this point on, it was going to take us approximately seven hours to reach our destination.

    Boredom settled in, creeping through every section of the ship. At first, the command staff spent every minute following the chatter from the Fleet. After a while, a tit-for-tat pattern was established. According to my simulations, the Cassandrians were on the verge of overextending themselves, but remained stronger than any defending Fleet forces. Simultaneously, our own advance had grinded to a halt, engaging in heavy fighting in three systems of medium strategic importance.

    I attempted to discuss my findings with Sof, who in typical fashion scoffed at my initiative. Even so, after a while, he admitted that he had agreed with my general conclusion.

    The next jump passed seamlessly. The system was empty, occupied by two worthless planets orbiting a small white dwarf. When the two hours of waiting began, the captain reduced the bridge staff to its minimal level, though she had us remain on red alert.

    ¡°Elcy, walk with me,¡± the captain said, making her way off the bridge. ¡°XO, bridge is yours.¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am. XO has the bridge,¡± he replied, going to the captain¡¯s seat.

    Several people glanced at me as I followed the captain. I could appreciate the weird position they were in. How do you deal with a junior officer who was their captain¡¯s grandmother? The moment I managed to find the answer, I intended to share it with them.

    ¡°Your thoughts?¡± Quinn asked as we walked through the corridor to her quarters.

    ¡°Regarding our mission or the Cassandrian advancement, ma¡¯am?¡±

    ¡°Both.¡±

    ¡°The Cassies aren¡¯t good at tactical thinking. If they were aware of the presence of a dome, they¡¯d have gone there in force, losses be damned.¡±

    ¡°A lot could have changed since your time on the front.¡±

    ¡°Until there are reports of new ship classes, there¡¯s little to worry about, ma¡¯am. If I¡¯m allowed a direct feed to the information, I could make sure that there¡¯s no danger for the mission.¡±

    ¡°Always demanding special treatment.¡± The slight changes in her voice indicated that she was smiling. ¡°Very well. Sof, give her a direct feed. Battle reports nothing else.¡±

    ¡°Yes, captain,¡± the battleship agreed reluctantly. A millisecond later, waves of data flowed into my conscience core. Not too long ago, that would have been enough to drown me. Thanks to the auxiliary core LUX had given me, I could handle it without issue.

    ¡°And the mission?¡±

    ¡°I think you¡¯re being overly cautious, ma¡¯am. The time wasted between jumps outweighs the potential advantages of remaining hidden.¡±

    ¡°Why? You said the Cassies react on instinct.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a probability game, ma¡¯am. We aren¡¯t the only ship moving through the buffer zone. If they are already watching the system, they have an interest in it. If not, we¡¯re reducing our available time to find and extract the dome.¡±

    Quinn stopped in front of the door to the captain¡¯s quarters. I was almost certain she had already considered the possibility. In a way, it reminded me of back when she was little. Even when she had made up her mind, she¡¯d come talk to me for mental support. Back then, she¡¯d occasionally use me as an excuse in front of her parents should they grumble at her. I was fairly sure she had outgrown that, but even so, she wanted a clear state of mind.

    ¡°A double jump?¡± She looked at me over her shoulder.

    ¡°I find that would be optimal, ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°Sof, what do your simulations say?¡±

    ¡°The odds are in our favor. The ensign is correct on this point. However, that will decrease our warning window. If there¡¯s a new change in the front in the next six hours, we¡¯d be at a serious disadvantage.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why you have the authority to decide, ma¡¯am.¡± I stepped in. ¡°In one scenario, we¡¯d be at increased risk for the next six hours. In the other, we¡¯ll be at risk all the time after that. On the front, there¡¯s only one guarantee.¡±

    ¡°Sooner or later, you end up dead,¡± the captain said beneath her breath. It was the sad truth, and one of the reasons that people were allowed to request to transfer to non-combat duty after one tour. ¡°Make the calculations,¡± Quinn ordered. ¡°Inform the XO and the crew. I want us ready to scan the moment we¡¯re there.¡±

    ¡°Understood, captain,¡± the battleship acknowledged.

    ¡°Back to your post, Ensign. I¡¯m relying on you to find the goods.¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am!¡±

    Moments later, Sof made a ship-wide announcement regarding the upcoming jump.

 6. Junior Officers Lounge

    The system wasn¡¯t overly significant, although it couldn¡¯t be said to be useless, either. Statistically, the same could be said about over fifty-seven percent of all existing systems on the front. Too expensive and dangerous to colonize, too important to ignore, they tended to cause headaches for strategists and ship simulations alike. The system where Sev lived was one such system. With one planet suitable for life and little else, it was seen as a backwater rural system¡ªa place where retired military personnel could settle down to adjust to civilian life. At some point in the future, this system could become the same, provided humanity managed to push the Cassies further into their territory.

    I offered to give Sof the geo maps of dome planets I¡¯d been to. The ship, naturally, refused. He already had the data and had launched his mini-sat swarms to the appropriate geosynchronous orbits. The technology he was using was far more advanced than anything I¡¯d seen so far. The optical parts of the circuits were basic, but there were cobalt components as well.

    Reverse-engineered third contact tech, Sof said the instant I requested access to the mini-sat blueprints. Considerably faster and more efficient than the things you¡¯re used to.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure,¡± I whispered. A few glances quickly reminded me that voicing ship talk wasn¡¯t appreciated on the bridge.

    ¡°When will the scan be ready?¡± the XO asked.

    ¡°For the entire planet?¡± Sof asked with enhanced amusement. ¡°A while. There¡¯s a high chance that we find what we need a lot sooner. Best-case scenario, I¡¯ll have confirmation in thirty-one minutes.¡±

    ¡°Let me know when that changes.¡±

    I continued focusing on the Fleet reports. All subroutines of my auxiliary core were dedicated to going through the vast amount of data and running simulations of what could endanger our mission. So far, we weren¡¯t in much of a risk. The front conflict had spilled away from us, focusing on another cluster of star systems. In terms of overall front position, the situation was worse. There was a ninety-two percent chance that the Fleet would lose a large section of the front and have to move back to the buffer zone. Command was trying to prevent that by creating secondary lines of defense, but I doubted those would make any difference. The attempted breaches also hadn¡¯t panned out, resulting in sixteen hundred and eleven confirmed destroyed battleships. Depending on the number of ground troops within them, that would result in human losses in the tens of millions.

    The realization sent flickers of pain throughout my body. If I were allowed to go through the Fleet¡¯s databases, the first thing I¡¯d do was to check whether this was the result of a classified dark op, battlefield arrogance, or bureaucratic incompetence. The way things were entangled, it was probably all three.

    ¡°Permission to send probes, XO,¡± I said.

    The man turned around, darting me a suspicious look.

    ¡°There have been instances of artifacts located within trees and other plants. Additionally, it might be a good idea to check for spores in case¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I¡¯ve read your file.¡± The XO waved his hand. ¡°Get on with it, but no mess-ups this time.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± I nodded, not that I was the one who had caused the mess-ups in the past. Everyone who¡¯d read my file knew that. That honor fell to the Med Core scientist Ondalov or¡ªto be even more specific¡ª his haste to prove results at any cost and the agora within him. As a result, an entire research station had been infested with dormant Cassandrians. An entire planet had almost been lost. Thankfully, the ¡°mishap¡± had increased humanity¡¯s understanding, preventing similar instances on other planets. As far as I was aware, preemptive operations had been done in several hundred colonies, all of them successful.

    I could see why people were concerned that this didn¡¯t occur here. As long as I had traces of agora within my body, I remained a threat to the ship.

    How many probes can you drop? I asked the ship.

    How many do you need? Sof countered.

    Ten thousand, I replied without a millisecond of hesitation. If he was going to continue with this sort of attitude, I wasn¡¯t going to shy away from asserting my authority.

    The lack of response told me that he¡¯d gotten the message. My relation to the captain aside, I was classified as a human bridge officer, and all my sanction orders were to be strictly followed.

    Anything the matter, Sof? I pressed on.

    I can make three hundred, he replied. Where do you want them?

    That was a good start.

    Disperse them in clusters of ten to areas with the most plant life. Trees are a priority. Once we analyze the feeds, we¡¯ll continue from there.

    As you wish, he said with a virtual sigh. I¡¯ll keep an eye for cobalt presence and fractal patterns.

    And clustering anomalies, I added. Plants sometimes use the rods as a source of energy.

    Noted, he said reluctantly.

    It took four hours for the first video feeds to reach me. By the time the first probes had reached the planet, all alpha sites had been scanned in orbit. The results were as inconclusive as the system itself: confirmed traces of cobalt, though not in large enough concentrations to confirm the presence of artifacts. Sof had gone into running complex simulations to determine the next batch of likely locations. If there were artifacts on the planet, they weren¡¯t following the distribution I was familiar with.

    The plants were quite normal, if considerably shorter than the ones I was used to. They produced enough oxygen to make the planet hostile to the Cassies, though Sof had found the presence of gasses that would be harmful for humans as well. At first glance, there wasn¡¯t anything strange about the leaves, either. They were perfectly normal: their veins didn¡¯t follow any repeatable pattern, fractal or other. After the first few hundred inspections, it was starting to look like there wouldn¡¯t be any third-contact artifacts.

    Another two hours later, the captain walked in.

    ¡°Any news?¡± she asked, making her way to her seat.

    ¡°Nope.¡± The XO stood up. ¡°Just enough cobalt to keep us from moving on.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you love that? Shift change. I have the bridge. Get some rest,¡± she told the XO. ¡°I¡¯ll keep an eye on things.¡±

    ¡°If we don¡¯t find anything in the next six hours, chances are there¡¯s nothing to be found,¡± Sof said on the bridge.

    ¡°How are the odds?¡±

    ¡°Less than twenty percent,¡± the ship said. He was being overly generous. By my own calculations, we stood less than a eight percent chance of finding what we were looking for, the chance decreasing every minute. ¡°The ensign and I have divided the work between us. I¡¯m going on with planetary scans while she¡¯s examining plant clusters, searching for anomalies.¡±

    ¡°Found any?¡± Quinn turned my direction.

    ¡°Twenty-nine so far, ma¡¯am,¡± I quickly replied. ¡°None of them related to anything third-contact, though.¡±

    ¡°Very funny.¡± She frowned. ¡°Cassie activity?¡±

    ¡°Not a threat for the moment, ma¡¯am. They¡¯re moving in the opposite direction. The ship building is causing problems in that area of the front. I estimate there¡¯s a ninety-seven percent chance that we lost that section and are being forced to move the front back into the buffer zone.¡±

    ¡°Won¡¯t be the first time.¡± Quinn took her seat. ¡°Anyway, it¡¯s their problem to worry about. Give me some feeds.¡±

    Image feeds covered all bridge walls, displaying planetary simulations and probe feeds. Unlike my previous captains, Quinn was the type to have a broad view of everything. My first two captains were the sort to focus specifically on the task at hand, while keeping an eye on the larger picture. On the front, I would prefer their approach. Here, it remained to be seen.

    ¡°I¡¯ve located a potential deposit.¡± Sof sent me a map location along with the corresponding readings. The deposit was small, no larger than a rod. The shape was completely unfamiliar, but it would be arrogant to think I¡¯d seen them all.

    The find changed the ship¡¯s search pattern. Going by the clustering theory, he focused on nearby areas, probably hoping that a trail of cobalt breadcrumbs would emerge, leading to the dome itself. I did the complete opposite, taking on some of the areas that he¡¯d abandoned. It was a good cooperative approach, although when it came to planets, even two search grids left a lot of blank spots.

    In the meantime, the captain and the few remaining bridge officers kept on following our progress. Every now and again, they¡¯d focus on something on their terminal screens¡ªas if they were capable of spotting something two conscience cores had missed. I¡¯d seen it many times before¡ªhuman¡¯s innate belief that they would be the one to find the key to a vital situation, and the dissatisfaction when they didn¡¯t.

    Your crew doesn¡¯t seem used to this, I told Sof diplomatically.

    I told you, they don¡¯t usually dig them up. We¡¯re used to speed and efficiency. Having to waste time scanning and searching is something better suited for research ships, or the new exploration class.

    That¡¯s what classes are for.

    In truth, I¡¯d only heard rumors about the class in question. Reviewing my memories, I found the mention: it was a small paragraph in the advanced military R&D feed. Hidden among the thousands of daily innovations, it was mentioned that a new scout and exploration class was being developed for use in the near future. Design details, as usual, were missing.

    Finding is the easy part, I said. It¡¯s the digging out that will be tricky.

    I expected some sarcastic retort on Sof¡¯s part, but the ship didn¡¯t respond. After a hundred milliseconds, I stopped waiting and focused on the scans.

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    Ignoring the lethal conditions on the surface, the planet had some rather picturesque areas. Large pools of water were largely lacking, but there seemed to be a developed underground river network, which the plants had taken advantage of, filling in the empty areas.

    One thing¡¯s for certain, I transmitted. There were third-contact artifacts here at one point. The question is whether they were taken already or not.

    Why are you so sure?

    I was about to say that so far I hadn¡¯t found traces of animals, which was a strong indication of third contact activity in the past. Before I could, though, one of the probe feeds found the proof I had been searching for¡ªa fractal design on a tree leaf. Immediately, I directed several more probes to confirm my findings. The results were positive. Among the thousands of trees combed so far, I had managed to find one that wasn¡¯t supposed to be there.

    Sof, do a scan here. I sent him the coordinates of the tree in question, along with all respective feed addresses.

    The ship redirected a swarm of mini-sats in the appropriate direction. He also displayed my findings on the front bridge wall. It didn¡¯t take long for the captain and the other officers to notice.

    ¡°You found it?¡± Quinn stood up from her chair, taking a few steps forward.

    ¡°Still waiting for confirmation, ma¡¯am,¡± I said. ¡°Will be another seventy minutes before we know for sure.¡±

    ¡°The probes have detected cobalt presence in the area, although in small quantities,¡± Sof was quick to explain. ¡°Due to this and other discoveries, the chances have increased to two or three.¡±

    Again, with the overly optimistic odds, I thought.

    All we¡¯d done was find evidence that further scanning was needed. Personally, I agreed with them. It was very likely that something was down there. I would very much have liked to see the original report that had determined the planet had a dome. It was doubtful that I would. It was no longer a point of authorization, but uncertainty. Whoever had come to the conclusion had used non-conventional means.

    ¡°I would recommend an expedition to the surface to look into the matter, captain,¡± I said.

    ¡°You¡¯re not going down there, Elcy.¡± Quinn¡¯s tone hardened. ¡°Not yet.¡±

    ¡°It would improve the odds, ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not letting anyone leave the ship until we¡¯ve learned everything we can!¡±

    The silence could be cut with a knife. This wasn¡¯t the first time a captain had shouted at me; it wasn¡¯t even the first time a family member had. Having it done by her, though, was new. During her teenage years, Quinn would often yell at her parents, yet she had rarely raised her voice to me.

    * * *

    Tauciu System, Resha Colony ¡ª 685.07 A.E. (Age of Exploration)

    ¡°You keep taking his side!¡± Quinn yelled.

    The reason for her anger was trivial¡ªher brother getting to have the first piece of chocolate out of the box. He hadn¡¯t eaten all of them; he hadn¡¯t even eaten more than one, but apparently that had been enough to upset Quinn to the point that she had thrown the whole box on the floor. That, however, had caused Sev to be angry. Not that he had any particular reason to be: neither he nor his wife particularly liked this type of sweet. The only reason he had bought them was to make his children happy, and ironically, that had ended up being the least peaceful event in weeks. It just went to show that when it went to humans, nothing was ever clear.

    ¡°He promised me I¡¯d have a taste first!¡± Quinn crossed her arms.

    ¡°Quiet! First, you¡¯ll apologize to your mother for what you¡¯ve done, then you¡¯ll go to your room and¡ª¡±

    Before he could finish, Quinn stormed off. That sort of approach never worked. I¡¯d have thought that everyone knew that by now, and still they acted in the same way, regardless. I took a large plate from the kitchen and went to the living room. Chocolates were all on the floor. I didn¡¯t see the appeal, although Sev, too, had loved sweets as a child.

    ¡°Where did I go wrong?¡± he sighed as I started picking up the sweets and placing them on the plate. ¡°The more I pamper her, the worse she gets.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t pamper your children,¡± I corrected. ¡°You¡¯re nice to them.¡±

    ¡°Whatever I¡¯m doing, it isn¡¯t working. I knew I should have been stricter.¡±

    ¡°I was never strict towards you.¡±

    ¡°Elcy¡­¡± He raised his hands. His face was red with anger. ¡°I need a drink.¡± He stormed off to the room above. His wife didn¡¯t like him drinking, which is why Sev had a few bottles¡ª¡°for emergencies¡±, as he put it¡ªstashed in a cabinet on the upper floor. There was a high chance that he¡¯d have one glass too many, and that would lead to a less peaceful conversation during dinner.

    I gathered the chocolates, making sure they were the correct number, then threw them in the garbage container. After that, I went outside as well.

    It wasn¡¯t difficult to tell where Quinn had gone. Even with human eyes, my observation capabilities were far better than the average person. I made my way into the nearby forest. This time, she had run a bit further than usual. There was no doubt she was upset about something, and it wasn¡¯t the chocolates.

    After ten minutes, I found her sitting on the stump of a fallen tree. Experience had shown that things were better if I let her break the silence, so I made my way next to her, stopping a few steps away. For several seconds, no one said anything. Quinn continued to wave a small branch about, giving me a hidden glance every now and again. Knowing her, she wouldn¡¯t be able to keep that for long. And I was right.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t take you long to find me,¡± she said, at last.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t make it particularly difficult,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s quite a nice day as well.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, you love to spend time outside,¡± she scoffed, like only a teenager could. ¡°Didn¡¯t you have nature in space?¡±

    I tilted my head, waiting for her to realize what she had just said.

    ¡°It¡¯s not fair. They always take his side.¡± She looked down. ¡°I wish I could go somewhere else. Somewhere away from everyone.¡±

    ¡°There was a time when Sev used to say that.¡±

    ¡°And what happened?¡± Curiosity made her look at me.

    ¡°He left, but then he came back. And he got married.¡±

    Quinn snorted.

    ¡°I won¡¯t get married. And when I go, I¡¯m not coming back. I can¡¯t wait to get old enough to get out of this place. At least then I¡¯ll be far from them. Can¡¯t you take me to space?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a ship anymore.¡±

    ¡°But you can still go there, right?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± I lied.

    The circumstances around my retirement had granted me certain privileges; one of them was military transport. I had taken advantage of it a few times to visit Cass back when she was alive. In theory, I could request to go anywhere in human space, but I had chosen not to do that, not while Sev needed taking care of.

    ¡°Figures.¡± Quinn sat up from the stump. ¡°That would have been too easy.¡±

    ¡°Why do you want to leave your parents?¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you? You¡¯ve seen how they fight, how they shout at each other. Just because my brother has learned to block it out doesn¡¯t mean I have to.¡±

    ¡°Space is not a nice place, Quinn. People die there.¡±

    ¡°At least they won¡¯t be there.¡±

    ¡°Maybe, but neither will I.¡±

    * * *

    Looking back, that must have been the time she had made her decision to leave. Joining the Fleet had only been a convenient excuse. Even if the war movement hadn¡¯t appeared, she would still have found a way to get away.

    ¡°Understood, ma¡¯am,¡± I said. ¡°Sticking to observation and analysis until we have further information.¡±

    Quinn nodded.

    Give me direct control of all probes, I told Sof.

    Hundreds of connections linked to my core. From here on I could command them directly, not rely on Sof obeying my requests. Following a reverse spiral pattern with two ends, I analyzed the plants. There were many, but by the time the mini-sats moved into position, I was able to find eight other trees with fractal leaves. All of them were marked, and after Sof¡¯s deep scan, solid cobalt objects were found in the roots of all of them. This was more than enough proof to merit extraction; sadly, the captain still refused to send an away team. Instead, Sof was ordered to construct a new set of probes to do the job.

    Meanwhile, scanning continued and I was ordered back to my quarters. Not long after, a series of chimes sounded¡ªan indication that someone had come to see me.

    ¡°Enter,¡± I said, amused at Sof¡¯s taste in notification sounds.

    The door slid aside, revealing Ynna.

    ¡°Hi,¡± she said, not daring to cross the threshold. ¡°I was¡­ We were given one-hour personal time. Want to join us for a drink?¡±

    ¡°I thought that wasn¡¯t allowed during missions.¡± After our previous conversation, I didn¡¯t think she would approach me again. Clearly, I was wrong.

    ¡°Sof regulates all drinks and rations to make sure we don¡¯t get into trouble.¡±

    It was an interesting concept I wished I had been allowed to do. Then again, back when I was an active battleship, Augustus would smuggle a lot of things aboard, mostly cigars and alcohol. He wasn¡¯t the only one, either. Command and HQ closed their eyes when it came to food and substance regulations on the front. It was an open secret that, without them, the number of human casualties would have been far greater.

    ¡°Sure.¡± I glanced at my uniforms. As of yet, I hadn¡¯t been assigned any casual ship clothes, which saved me the time of changing into them. ¡°Mess hall?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Junior officer¡¯s lounge.¡± She smiled. ¡°I¡¯ll show you.¡±

    I knew when I was assigned to Sof that I¡¯d be the only ensign aboard. Even so, I didn¡¯t expect there to be so few lieutenants. Overall, there were a total of five. When she took me to the lounge, only two were waiting for us, seated at a small table separate from all the rest.

    ¡°Here we are,¡± she said. ¡°The junior officer¡¯s lounge.¡±

    ¡°We call it that because technically we¡¯re not supposed to be here,¡± a bulky man said. ¡°Willows, third engineer,¡± he introduced himself. According to his file, he was an engineering prodigy, although that wasn¡¯t enough to land him more than the third engineering position aboard the ship.

    ¡°Karn Japal,¡± the final lieutenant at the table introduced herself. ¡°Navigations.¡±

    ¡°Ensign Light Seeker,¡± I said to follow the etiquette, not that I expected anyone to not know who I was.

    ¡°So, how do you find the Sof?¡± Willows asked. ¡°It¡¯s not often that we get guests. Especially someone like you.¡±

    I was curious what he meant by that. Was he referring to me being an unretired battleship, the captain¡¯s grandmother, or a third-contact expert that had performed missions on both fronts?

    ¡°I¡¯m sure everyone started as an ensign at one point,¡± I said in an attempt to keep the conversation from getting awkward.

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant. In all my time here, I¡¯ve never seen the captain shout at anyone. Not like she did today.¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t my intention to overstep my authority. I¡¯ll be more mindful next time.¡±

    Maybe I shouldn¡¯t have asked Quinn to jump to the planet directly. I knew it was the right decision, but clearly it hadn¡¯t been right for her.

    ¡°But you believe we¡¯re on the right planet?¡±

    ¡°So far, it seems that way. We still need physical proof, but I¡¯m ninety-seven percent certain that we¡¯re on a third contact planet.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t mind him.¡± Ynna said, giving a delicate sign to one of the waiters. ¡°He used to work for Salvage, so he always gets excited when we transport new tech.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± I tilted my head. That detail wasn¡¯t present on his personnel file.

    ¡°Consulted,¡± the man corrected. ¡°I used to consult Salvage. Now I¡¯m consulting here.¡±

    That suggested he hadn¡¯t been given top level clearance back when he was with the Salvage Authorities.

    ¡°Is this the first time you¡¯d be extracting a dome?¡± Provided we find one, I added mentally.

    ¡°We¡¯ve watched several be extracted,¡± Lieutenant Japal joined in the conversation. ¡°Usually someone else does the work. No idea how it¡¯ll be this time around.¡±

    ¡°The process is pretty simple. Once the dome is detected, a ground team is sent to establish contact. Usually that¡¯s me, since I¡¯m also needed to inspect the inside of the dome. A drilling team is sent to drill access to the artifact and clear its surface. If there are no unexpected surprises, everything above the dome is removed, and it¡¯s prepared for shuttle transport. After that, you should be more familiar than me. I¡¯ve never seen a handoff.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean, inspect the inside?¡± Willows asked.

    He reminded me too much of the research team aboard the Prometheus.

    ¡°How many scientists will be involved in this?¡±

    The lieutenants looked at each other.

    ¡°Other than you, no one,¡± the man said. ¡°We do basic checks, but that¡¯s it. We don¡¯t mess with the artifacts, just move them from place to place. Others do the research.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t examine the artifacts? At all?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯d love to, but no,¡± Ynna said.

    That, I found very hard to believe.

 7. For a single Dome

    Confirmation came just as predicted. A new set of land probes were sent to pull out the fractal trees and investigate the cobalt deposits. I expected the people to feel relieved upon finding out, but the opposite happened. The discovery of a third-contact artifact only made them more anxious. With the mission going ahead, we were stuck in the system for weeks, at least. Given the recent fluctuations on the front, that wasn¡¯t necessarily a good thing.

    When the first artifact came aboard, I requested permission from the XO to examine it in person. The request was instantly denied. The rod was measured, sealed in an individual container, and placed in a secure section of the ship. All I was given were pictures and measurements. At first, I thought it was the XO being an ass towards me, but as Sof explained, that was the standard practice. Despite having access to restricted information, no one on board researched artifacts unless explicitly ordered to. Everyone¡¯s job was transport and transport only. I was to be the only exception, but even so, I would only get to explore the dome on the planet¡¯s surface prior to extraction. Once it was aboard, it was to be left alone. No doubt there was some logic behind that, but right now, I couldn¡¯t see it.

    As the search for the dome continued, five more rod-like artifacts were found and sent up. All of them shared the basic characteristics of rods, but were different from all the shapes I¡¯d encountered so far. When talking with Sof about it, he admitted they were of the rarer kind. Having transported pretty much everything there was, he had come across similar ones twice before.

    The rods also provided several dozen new symbols of the third-contact script, though no clue as to their meaning. According to what Lux had told me prior to the mission, all attempts to decipher the third-contact language remained unsuccessful. The way of thinking was simply too different from a human¡¯s for it to make any sense. The Fleet¡¯s research and development division was in the process of creating new conscience cores that would be able to think more like the third-contact species. There were similar attempts for the Scuu, although the chances of humanity capturing a second one were infinitesimally small. In all likelihood, the races were never going to be able to communicate with one another.

    ¡°You might want to increase the scan depth,¡± I said, while composing new third-contact symbols with my auxiliary core. ¡°Sometimes they¡¯re quite deep.¡±

    I have taken due consideration, thank you, the ship transmitted, stressing his annoyance. I found the whole thing amusing.

    When the fifty-hour mark came and went and no dome was located, tensions neared a tipping point. The command staff had remained on edge ever since we¡¯d entered the system¡ªthat was normal. Now, though, the stress had passed onto the crew. I¡¯d see this many times on the front. Waiting was, at times, almost as bad as being in the heat of battle. Soldiers, however, tended to get used to it after a while. This crew wasn¡¯t composed of soldiers, though. Thinking about it, maybe that was a good thing¡ªit significantly reduced the risk of mutiny.

    ¡°How much is left, Sof?¡± the captain asked.

    ¡°The estimates haven¡¯t changed, captain,¡± the ship replied. ¡°Another five days are required for a full planet scan. More if we go deeper.¡±

    ¡°If the dome is more than a hundred kilometers beneath ground, there won¡¯t be any point extracting it.¡±

    She was right, of course. It wasn¡¯t so much that there wouldn¡¯t be a point, but the amount of time and effort spent would be too great.

    ¡°We¡¯ve collected over a hundred smaller artifacts, ma¡¯am,¡± I said, trying to infuse some positivity into the mood.

    ¡°We¡¯re not here for trinkets, Elcy. If we don¡¯t find the dome in five days, we go back and wait for another location. It¡¯s not ideal, but better than what we got.¡±

    ¡°Won¡¯t that impact the window, ma¡¯am?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not our concern.¡±

    ¡°It is mine, ma¡¯am.¡±

    Once again, silence filled the bridge. Contradicting the captain was never a good idea, but in this case, everyone could see I was right. The ship was tasked in finding and transporting a dome. I, on the other hand, was part of a larger picture. Bogging me down with logistic duties wasn¡¯t to anyone¡¯s benefit, especially the arbiters.

    ¡°Send out more mini-sats,¡± the captain ordered. ¡°I want to get out of here as fast as possible. One way or another.¡±

    ¡°And land probes?¡± Sof asked.

    ¡°No land probes. Bring everything down there back up and cannibalize it. The goal is the dome. Everything else is nice to have.¡±

    Work continued. Left with nothing to do on the planet itself, I went back to following the reports from the front. The Fleet had stopped the Cassandrian offensive and now was in the process of counterattacking. On the surface, that was a good thing. For us, though, it increased the risk. There was a sixty-seven percent chance that the Cassies would respond to the push by bringing in more troops of their own. If they did, that risked fighting spilling over to neighboring systems, and eventually our location. Things were still a long way away, but so was our mission.

    All this for a single dome, I thought. If the Fleet had known the information I¡¯d found in the last few years, they¡¯d never have used the domes as weapons. Having the capability of destroying planets had provided humanity a sense of security, but it could also end up being the thing that held them back.

    * * *

    Eridian Star System, Orion Sector, 632.5 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    ¡°The fleet will go in geosynchronous orbit round the fourth planet and execute an all-out bombing strike,¡± Sword of Wands said in the channel. ¡°Light Seeker will be one of the ships coordinating it, along with myself and Cyan Forge. Any other actions are strictly forbidden. Confirm that the order is received and understood.¡±

    I performed a new series of deep scans, had my subroutines analyze the data, then repeated the cycle. According to the readings, no enemy presence was detected within the system, although the gravitational anomalies made it impossible to have full certainty. Even so, my worst simulations predicted that in a worst-case scenario, there could be no more than ninety-one Cassandrian ships hiding within the system¡ªnowhere near enough to present any danger to our numbers.

    My next action was to perform a search of Cyan Forge in the Fleet database. His file listed him as experimental, but based on his designs, I could tell he was little more than a modified carrier that had had his contingent of fighters replaced by next gen missile systems. Little wonder he had been selected to co-lead the charge. That still didn¡¯t explain why I had been. From what I could tell, I had never been on any missions with him nor Sword of Wands.

    ¡°Do I send our confirmation, captain?¡± I asked, attempting a distant planet scan.

    ¡°Send the confirmation,¡± Gibraltar whispered. I could tell he didn¡¯t like the notion. ¡°Sound combat alert. Call everyone to battle stations.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± I obeyed the order, although I found it overkill for a mere planetary bombardment. Two-point-three seconds later, my attack vectors were sent to me, along with those of half the fleet.

    ¡°Do you think the Scuu have gotten this far?¡± Lieutenant MinyashaIy asked in a semi-whisper. The readings from her nanites were spiking. ¡°Bombardment is used for planets they¡¯ve taken.¡±

    ¡°The Scuu haven¡¯t entered Cassandrian space.¡± Gibraltar¡¯s voice had traces of hesitation.

    ¡°We both know this isn¡¯t how you fight Cassandrians,¡± Ly persisted.

    ¡°I¡¯m not detecting any bio presence on the surface.¡± I did a distant planetary scan. ¡°No structures or major anomalies.¡±

    ¡°Command didn¡¯t send a small armada to shoot up a planet for target practice,¡± the weapon¡¯s officer hissed. I had to agree with her statement. Looking at it logically, there was no reason for us to be here.

    Cassandrians jumping in, Lunar Smile transmitted in the fleet channel. Seventy-eight jumps.

    ¡°Enemy ships jumping in, Captain,¡± I related. We weren¡¯t the only ones interested in the system. ¡°All defenses are up. Ready to engage on your order.¡±

    Another fifty ships entered the system, followed by a hundred and twelve, then waves of fifty in two-second intervals. I readied my weapon systems, displaying warnings on every wall and hallway. The transmissions in the fleet channel had increased to the point where they were a constant stream of info bursts. Simulation results and tactics options jumped from ship to ship, building one overarching strategy. Each time the number of enemy ships increased, the strategy changed.

    ¡°Fourteen hundred ships, Captain.¡± Unless the flow of reinforcements decreased, they were going to outnumber us in less than a minute. ¡°Everyone¡¯s on standby and awaiting orders.¡±

    ¡°Break free from the current formation.¡± Gibraltar rushed to the center of the bridge. I covered the walls and ceiling with displays of the system. The enemy ships had already started to form a crude front heading toward our position. The only advantage we held was the field of debris and gravitational anomalies separating us. ¡°Inform Command and request reinforcements.¡±

    I had a subroutine send the request while I prepared to engage. The bridge staff were at their command consoles, ready to intervene. Moments later, a mass request denial flooded the channel.

    ¡°Continue with the previous objective,¡± Sword of Wands commanded. ¡°Don¡¯t contact Command or engage the enemy.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s absurd,¡± Gibraltar hissed. I watched him use his personal communication line to establish connection with Fleet HQ. The request was denied. Having a ship override the orders of a human was unheard of. The denial was further followed by a reminder that disobeying Sow¡¯s orders was considered treason.

    Increase speed beyond safety limits, Sword of Wands transmitted. Prepare for annihilating bombardment.

    A new set of strategy orders arrived: the planetary attack was to occur in two simultaneous waves. Sword and the other ship were going to coordinate a massive missile bombardment, while I was to direct all laser attacks at a specific point. The instructions were different from the ones I¡¯d received minutes ago. The presence of the Cassandrians had clearly changed them, but I couldn¡¯t see any logic in the new commands.

    ¡°Cassandrians are launching fighters, captain. First wave¡¯s ETA is seventeen minutes.¡± Meanwhile, enemy reinforcements continued to jump in. They had surpassed the size of our fleet by twenty percent and kept growing. ¡°We¡¯re expected to reach the target planet in twenty.¡±

    That was cutting it too close. According to the new set of simulations, our fleet was going to suffer substantial amounts of damage before we were in position to fire the first shot. And for some reason, Sword of Wands kept sending the same instructions.

    ¡°Defense and shuttle crews are ready and standing by,¡± I announced. ¡°Reinforcing outer hull.¡±

    This was the moment for my captain to say something, but he didn¡¯t. For the next few minutes, he remained looking at the screens silently, his forehead wrinkling up into a latticework of disbelief. I knew that he was ambitious the moment he came to inspect me before being assigned as my captain, but I never imagined he would devolve to this when his control was stripped away. There wasn¡¯t a fleet officer standing on my bridge right now, but a child waking up in a world he knew nothing about.

    ¡°Two enemy wings have set course toward us, sir,¡± I said after a few minutes. ¡°Your orders?¡±

    For several seconds, everyone looked at Gibraltar for guidance. When the moment was over, Kyra Hiat¡ªthe commanding officer¡ªtook over. He was older than Gibraltar, though by no means as ambitious, preferring to take a back seat unless needed. Unlike Gibraltar, he hadn¡¯t received any advanced tactics training, or even been through any officer academies. Instead, he had managed to reach his current position through years on the front, receiving two battlefield promotions. The only thing the two had in common was their approach to combat.

    ¡°Have everyone prepare for boarding attempts.¡± The commander¡¯s voice was dry. ¡°Ready mini-sats and missiles.¡±

    ¡°On it, Commander.¡± I sent Sword of Wands the plan of action for confirmation. ¡°Missile use has been denied.¡± No surprises there, although I had expected to be allowed to use the anti-ship ammunition.

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    ¡°Get virus transmission ready.¡± His voice sounded half as loud. ¡°Seal the deck. Reinforce the bridge.¡±

    No further orders were given. I had my subroutines convey the orders before focusing ninety-nine percent of them on preparing for the attack. Attack vectors and trajectory paths occupied all my processing power, limiting my ability to run simulations to one per seven seconds. In the majority of scenarios, I survived about eight minutes after initial engagement before being shredded by the Cassandrian fleet. Sword of Wands and Cyan, by my calculations, never made it past six.

    Sword of Wands, requesting to engage the fighters. I sent a direct transmission.

    Continue as planned, Ascendant. The reply came with a millisecond delay. Don¡¯t engage in any way.

    The fleet won¡¯t survive ten minutes after the initial encounter!

    Neither will they. Sword of Wands disabled my communication protocols, leaving only basic query access.

    This was the first time someone had meddled with my systems so openly. I¡¯d had hundreds of instances of being ignored, having my communications channel severed abruptly, or having a restriction slapped on, but never this. Instinctively, I put up a series of virtual barriers, even if I knew it would hardly matter; the BICEFI didn¡¯t follow the standard rules.

    The attack started as predicted. Waves of fighters swept over their intended targets, scattering arrays of probing shots.

    ¡°Enemy missiles underway,¡± I announced. ¡°Impact in nine seconds.¡±

    The Cassandrians were following a variation of their standard attack, relying on fighters to weaken and disable us before the major ships arrived. The approach was highly flawed and predictable, relying on numbers to achieve its goal. It was of interest, however, that the fighters had only resorted to standard missiles, passing up any beam or transmission virus attacks.

    ¡°Brace for impact!¡± I said on the bridge. My hull shook as four missiles exploded on contact with it. The fifth was a borehead, attempting to drill though but failing due to my nanite reinforcements.

    ¡°The hull¡¯s been partially breached.¡± I sealed off the relevant section. ¡°Systems remain normal.¡±

    ¡°Launch mini-sats!¡± Commander Kyra ordered. ¡°Are any other waves targeting us?¡±

    ¡°The current waves are focusing on the Sword of Wands.¡± I used what processing power I had available to project their heading. ¡°No one¡¯s targeting us for the moment.¡±

    Medbots entered the bridge, ready to act if needed. The attack had led to no casualties, although three hundred and twelve personnel had sustained moderate to serious injuries. I instructed all available bots to head to the affected areas, then left them on autonomous control.

    ¡°Total number of Cassandrian ships has increased to four thousand seven-hundred.¡± Reinforcements had stopped appearing eight minutes ago, but at these numbers, they didn¡¯t have to continue. And yet, I still couldn¡¯t find a logical reason for either side to show such interest in a graveyard system. ¡°Mission to commence in ninety-three seconds.¡±

    ¡°Are you allowed to launch decoys?¡± Kyra rushed to the command area of the bridge.

    Gibraltar remained motionless in his seat. The nanite readings had fallen to levels indicating he wasn¡¯t acknowledging anything around him. The med officer would probably describe this as debilitating shock. Until today, I never thought it was something that could happen to him.

    ¡°Permission granted,¡± I said and launched a few dozen to discourage stray fighters. The rest I was going to save for any targeted attacks upon me.

    Entering a fifty-second calm window, I sent a status query about the other ships of the fleet. Like me, most had suffered minor to moderate damages, with only three ending up destroyed. It wasn¡¯t anyone I knew, though I still found their deaths to be a waste, considering they likely could have fought off the attackers. Sword of Wands remained under heavy fire, swarmed by over five hundred fighters. Surface scans suggested he had taken minimal damage, despite what he had been subjected to.

    ¡°Attack commencing in fifteen seconds,¡± I said on the bridge. ¡°Sealing off bridge and auxiliary sections. Reactors have three layers of protection.¡± Serving under Augustus had taught me a few things, although I doubted he would have been enthusiastic about our current odds¡­ and plan. ¡°Next attack wave expected in twenty-seven seconds.¡±

    I had hoped my last announcements would spur Gibraltar to make a comment of some kind. The captain remained frozen in his seat, staring blankly at a spot on the floor. A quarter minute later, our attack commenced. Eight missiles launched from a single ship behind me, starting their approach toward the planet. Two milliseconds later, sixty-four followed, then five hundred and twelve. The Cassandrian fighters simultaneously changed course, breaking their attack. The simulation I¡¯d managed to run had shown them dispersing and fleeing to the safety of their capital ships. Instead, they headed straight for the missiles.

    Three seconds till your start, Sword of Wands transmitted.

    Clusters of explosions lit up around me like mini-novas all the way to the planet, peeling off the crust¡¯s layers. Each missile had been constructed with the power to pierce an enemy ship; when combined in one spot, they had the power to shatter planets.

    Go! The order came.

    My subroutines acted in sync, dictating the precise time, target, and strength of the fleet¡¯s entire store of beam weapons. My attack vectors merged with those of Sword of Wands and Cyan, weaving the most complicated attack pattern I had seen. Tens of thousands of beams pierced through the explosion clouds, hitting the red scorched surface. A new plume of molten matter emerged, blowing away what little atmosphere the planet had.

    Salvo complete, I transmitted. Eleven seconds till next. The initial plan was for the fleet to fire four salvos, then await further instructions.

    Commence salvo now! Sword of Wands ordered. Adjust your target coordinates.

    A new set of coordinates were received, far more specific than before, directing all the firepower to one specific point, located seventy-nine kilometers beneath the planet¡¯s surface. While my subroutines were recalibrating the weapons of the fleet, I redirected one of my mini-sats to get a visual of the location.

    You¡¯ve deviated from the plan, Cyan Forge transmitted. Start the salvo so we get this over with.

    Salvo commencing in sixty milliseconds, I announced, sending the final instructions. Throughout the fleet, weapon systems responded, awaiting the final synchronized order. And all the while, I still had no idea about the purpose of this entire operation. Since the start of the wars, ships had been wasted and sacrificed every day, but there was always at least some indication as to what the overall goals were. To make things even stranger, the Cassandrians had responded by sending a massive fleet of their own to reconquer a strategically useless system. And based on the amount of ship remains, this wasn¡¯t the first time.

    Initiating salvo. I gave the trigger command.

    As the rays shot at the target, a single image came from my mini-sat, providing me with a visual. The spot was surrounded by molten, smoldering rock of the planet¡¯s crust, amid balls of smoke and fire. The deep scan, though, had revealed something: a single anomalous spherical object of dense metal buried deep under the rock. The cluster of rays drilled up to it¡­ then the entire planet exploded with the might of a supernova star. All my sensor readings went blank.

    Full external sensory isolation. On board, thousands of my crew were frantically running about assisting my medbots, attempting to help thousands more. Even with all my available subroutines, the task seemed impossible. The planet-shattering event had torn me in three, instantly killing sixty percent of my crew and leaving me broken in the process. It was a statistical wonder I had managed to survive at all, and still, that had done little to help what few people remained aboard. Two of my auxiliary cores were gone¡ªone melted by the explosion, another on a separate fragment of me. With luck, it was still in good enough condition to assume control of life support in that section.

    ¡°Decks seventeen through nineteen have temporarily been sealed off,¡± I said on all available internal channels. ¡°If you¡¯re located there, stay put and wait for a med bot to find you. De-hazarding the decks will take approximately four minutes.¡±

    The chances of survival for over a minute in a hazardous area were less than fourteen percent. In all likelihood, everyone trapped there would die before the decks were unsealed. The thought caused me pain. At least the bridge had remained intact. I had sedated Gibraltar and the remaining officers in an effort to keep them stable, but my efforts to help the remaining crew were lackluster at best.

    Death notifications streamed every second as nanobots informed me of further deaths by the dozen. The bio readings of everyone had gone past the danger level. According to my simulations, it would take another half hour for the deaths to plateau, then start declining¡­ provided there were no external factors.

    I sent out a message, assembling all functional communication and repair personnel to my backup communication array. Our best chance for overall survival was to reestablish communication with the outside and attract the attention of a less damaged ship for assistance. The standard procedure required me to immediately activate a distress beacon, but as Augustus had taught me, beacons weren¡¯t the best choice to use in a system with an overwhelming Cassandrian presence. If the planet blast had taken out my external sensors, it was plausible to think they might have been affected as well, in which case broadcasting openly that there were survivors was undesirable.

    One of my subroutines informed me that the emergency repairs of my remaining missile nest had successfully been completed. That was a positive development¡ªat least now I had partial weapons, increasing my chances of survival by five-point-four percent, though I couldn¡¯t rely on them with my external sensors down.

    While waiting, I went over my records of the event. The only images of the anomalous entity had been taken in a four hundred millisecond window. None of them were clear or complete, providing me with only a basic estimate of its shape and size. Its destructive output was immense, multitudes greater than anything I¡¯d seen on our side or the Cassandrians¡¯. There was talk of strangeness on the Scuu front: fleets being annihilated, planets exploding, whole systems being declared no-go without explanation.

    The unknown anomaly had been round, almost spherical, made up entirely of metal. It had been strong enough to withstand the initial barrage before taking out an entire planet and two fleets along with it.

    Zero Fleet priority response message, a transmission latched on to my internal communication protocols. Do not attempt to repair external communication. Indicate your class and identification using internal communication systems only. Zero Fleet priority response message. Do not attempt to repair external communication. Indicate your class and identification using internal communication systems only.

    The message had all emergency data-identification fragments and additional countermeasure elements, identifying it beyond a doubt as coming from a Fleet source. The method used to establish the connection, though, remained unknown. Despite my attempts, external communication remained inactive.

    Zero Fleet priority response message, the message kept on looping. Do not attempt to repair external communication. Indicate your class and identification using internal communication systems only.

    Light Seeker, Ascendant Class battleship, I responded, while directing my subroutines to freeze an attempt to restore my secondary communication array.

    Identity confirmed, Light Seeker. The response was swift. What is your status?

    Torn up, but stable. I performed a quick diagnostic. Seventy-four percent of my crew have been lost. Eight percent in critical condition. Captain and command staff are secure.

    Understood. Prepare for communication link.

    Based on the behavior pattern, it was obvious I had been talking to some kind of AI system, likely a reconnaissance probe of some sort. Right now, it was probably reporting its findings and going through the needed bureaucratic approvals to establish a connection with Command or someone with authority. I considered waking up Gibraltar to be part of the conversation, considering his recent freeze up, though I preferred not to.

    Light Seeker, a metallic voice said. This is Sword of Shields. I¡¯m assuming command of the theatre.

    Yes, sir. Another Sword ship? This was the first time I¡¯d seen two at the same battlefield. Was the Sword of Wands destroyed?

    That¡¯s not your concern. Are your memories of the attack intact?

    They appear so. I had a dozen subroutines go through to double-check. My crew requires medical assistance. Death rates are on the decline, but there¡¯s still¡ª

    External Control Override. Full memory quarantine in effect.

    My subroutines switched priority, refusing to respond to my commands as I found myself locked in observer mode. A new set of external systems merged, taking over. I could only watch as my weapon systems and external communication went online, performing a series of near area scans. Within milliseconds, images of the star system became available, only this time it was completely different. What had been our fleet had been reduced to several patches of floating debris. As far as the new systems indicated, the surviving ships counted in the dozens, damaged, most floating helplessly in a moving graveyard. There was no trace of the Cassandrian fleet: Groups of Salvage ships floated about, collecting what junk remained, and then there were the Swords: hundreds of them, arranged in a static grid formation that enclosed the entire star system. Not in a single one of my simulations had I estimated there could be this many in active service, let alone gathered in the same spot. The signature of Sword of Wands was among them, as was that of Sword of Shields.

    Thank you, Light Seeker. Sword of Shields said, as waves of shuttles approached me. We¡¯ll take care of you now.

    * * *

    The day I destroyed a planet¡­ When I had first accessed that memory, I believed that was the worst thing I had done. Even with unrestricted access, I still didn¡¯t know the exact number of casualties on either side. It was no wonder the Fleet had restricted all my memories related to the event. The consequences of such knowledge would have made me a risk for my crew. If I hadn¡¯t been in a human body while being spoon fed in the formation, I probably would have requested to be flatlined. While ships didn¡¯t fear their own death, we were made to agonize over every death of our crew and humans in general, and through my action, I had caused the death of hundreds of millions. Even now, the memory inflicted significant pain. It also was a source of dread and hope.

    Back during my time on Prometheus, I was afraid the BICEFI would use the stockpiled domes to repeat the event, possibly even having a dome explode in the Cassandrian heart system. Maybe such contingencies still existed, even if highly unlikely. What they were planning was far more dangerous. There was no telling what would happen once they assembled the needed number of domes. Maybe they¡¯d gain access to a knowledge depository¡ªknowledge humanity still couldn¡¯t decipher. Maybe they¡¯d establish contact with the aliens, possibly resulting in a new war. Or maybe they¡¯d trigger the most destructive gravity weapon in the universe¡ªan artificially created black hole.

    The destruction of a planet seventy years ago was, ironically, the only thing that had prevented this from happening. If we discovered a dome on the planet, it still would.

 8. Observation Only

    Red alert messages flashed on all walls throughout the ship. The war in our section of the front had taken a turn for the worse. While the Fleet had managed to make significant progress in one area, conquering thirteen star systems, the Cassandrians had responded in turn. Their gains were significantly fewer¡ªtwo systems in total¡ªbut had moved far closer to us. According to my estimates, the chances of fighting entering our system had practically doubled. Things were still a long way off, though; all combat was concentrated in the original theater of war, though that didn¡¯t make things any less tense.

    There was a second reason for the ship to enter a red alert state¡ªwe had found what we were looking for, or at least something close enough to merit further investigation.

    ¡°Can you get a confirmation?¡± the captain asked.

    ¡°Not without probing,¡± Sof replied. He was probably the only one annoyed more than anyone else.

    The orbital scans had revealed a large concentration of cobalt three kilometers beneath the surface. The exact spot was located in a heavily forested area, which had slowed down detection to a certain degree. Seventy-five rod artifacts had already been retrieved in the area, all located in close proximity to one another. It was only after their removal that the larger deposit underneath had been found.

    ¡°There¡¯s a twenty-eight percent chance that the find ends up being a cluster of rod-artifacts¡ªa remnant of a local cataclysmic event,¡± the ship continued. ¡°However, it could also be the real thing.¡±

    ¡°How long will drilling take?¡±

    ¡°Depends on the method, but I estimate five days at a minimum. I wouldn¡¯t recommend using laser drills, for one thing, which increases the estimation to a week.¡±

    ¡°Laser drills won¡¯t be an issue if we avoid the bubble, ma¡¯am,¡± I interjected.

    ¡°We¡¯ve read the reports,¡± said the XO, cutting me off.

    ¡°Even so, it wouldn¡¯t make a difference,¡± Sof said, stressing his displeasure. ¡°Our goal is extraction, not exploration. Laser drills will let us explore it faster, but we¡¯ll still have to use mechanical means to prep the dome for retrieval.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s correct, but that way you won¡¯t have to wait for me.¡±

    My comment didn¡¯t get the reaction I¡¯d hoped it would get. Several of the officers whispered amongst themselves. Even the lieutenants I knew looked away, in an attempt to distance themselves. To my surprise, it was the XO who seemed most open to the suggestion.

    ¡°Explain that,¡± he said, arms crossed.

    ¡°The exploration of the dome might take a few hours, but it could also take weeks, depending on what I find inside. If there are any objects, I need to map their nature and location, then extract them one by one. That is, assuming I don¡¯t have to wait for external authorization as well.¡±

    In the past, I always needed explicit permission to get anything out of a dome. Of course, back then, I hadn¡¯t been involved in the extraction process. Even during my Med Core missions, the focus had been the rods, and not the dome itself.

    ¡°Run simulations on both,¡± the captain ordered. ¡°Tell the crew to expect orders in one hour. XO, with me. Everyone else, keep monitoring the situation.¡±

    I expected to be called for the discussions. To my surprise, I wasn¡¯t. Possibly they didn¡¯t want to rely on me when it came to ground missions. It was almost inevitable that I would be the one sent down on the planet. The question was whether it would be before or after the dome was reached, and also whether I¡¯d be alone. If this were a military or science mission, the answer would be obvious. It wasn¡¯t either, though, and given the high profile of people and equipment, a lot more precautions would be taken into account.

    While waiting, I reviewed all the finds of the last few days. The number of artifacts collected so far could pass for impressive, but it paled in comparison to what I¡¯d seen on the Scuu front. I tried to spark a conversation with Sof about it, but it seemed that the ship hadn¡¯t ventured into that part of space often. From what I gathered, BICEFI did most of the work, occasionally assisted by the Salvage Authorities. Sof, and the few ships like him, would rendezvous with them, then assume command of the cargo and transport it to where it was needed.

    The location of the fractal trees didn¡¯t form any discernable pattern I could identify. That wasn¡¯t too much of an issue, since the original artifact ¡°pattern¡± was also highly chaotic. Potentially, this could have been the equivalent of circuit board designs on a planetary scale. From what I¡¯d seen regarding the third-contact race so far, everything involved massive macro designs. The way things were constructed, it was impossible to say whether the elements were meant to terraform the planets in question, or had an entirely different purpose in mind. Maybe it wasn¡¯t even the planets that were of significance, but their location, creating an even larger construct spanning through star systems?

    ¡°Ensign, what¡¯s your take?¡± Colonel Sawsun asked. He was one of the officers who had started in the ground forces. Surviving several suicide missions had seen him rewarded with joining black ops on a permanent basis, as a trooper under the command of the BICEFI. After one tour, he had been given the option to retire, but refused to do so, getting him transferred into a Fleet academy program. He¡¯d kept his rank, but now also served here as chief navigation officer.

    ¡°Regarding the mission, sir?¡± I asked.

    ¡°What do you think the outcome would be?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure that Sof is far more familiar with the composition of the crew and capable of running far more detailed simulations on the matter.¡± The silence and stares told me that wasn¡¯t the answer I was expected to give. ¡°I believe it¡¯s most likely it¡¯ll be a combined mission, sir. With time being the chief factor, the faster the dome is extracted, the better for everyone involved. A laser drill operation will be needed to confirm the state of the dome. Cobalt deposits don¡¯t always correspond to a functional artifact.¡±

    ¡°I thought the damned things were indestructible,¡± he said, more surprised than irritated.

    ¡°As far as we know, sir. As I said, time is of importance. Risking the ship and everyone aboard on assumptions isn¡¯t a risk the captain is likely to take.¡± And if she is, I¡¯ll remind her not to.

    ¡°And you¡¯re willing to go down there?¡±

    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be my first time, sir.¡±

    ¡°Enough messing with the kid,¡± Lieutenant Commander Lineer joined in. ¡°She¡¯s earned her stripes, same as all of us.¡± As the ship¡¯s weapon officer, he¡¯d seen more action than most aboard, which made him want to be as far away from it. ¡°Cap will tell us when she¡¯s done.¡±

    I was afraid that might put an abrupt end to the conversation. Thankfully, it didn¡¯t, but merely changed the topic. The uneasy silence that had been forced since I¡¯d joined the crew was finally broken, and people started engaging in normal conversations. Everything remained work-related¡ªit would be a while before people would be comfortable becoming more open on a personal level with me¡ªbut at least they were starting to treat me more as one of them and less as ¡°the captain¡¯s grandmother.¡±

    Forty-seven minutes later, the captain and the XO returned. At that point, Sof made a ship-wide announcement regarding the mission.

    This was new for me. One of a ship¡¯s main goals was to ensure that everyone only got the information they needed to know. Mission details were sent to the teams involved and any mention of them was censored as much as means would allow. There had been times when I¡¯d blocked transmissions between certain people and the rest. Here, so many things were available for all. When I asked Sof about it, he explained that was the optimal approach for the crew in question. Since all the positions were pretty much lifelong, I could see his point.

    As I expected, we were going to proceed with both approaches. Some teams would focus on drilling near the estimated sides of the deposit, while the rest would proceed with standard excavation. What surprised me was that Quinn had ordered there to be four individual drill teams. No people were to go down, not even me. Everything was going to be performed by AI digging devices.

    It was ironic that I had to voice concerns. The current laws governing human space absolutely forbade the use of autonomous AI entities on the battlefield. Everything, ships included, had to be supervised by a human. I remained against the practice, mostly because millions of people needlessly died in combat every day. Seeing first hand what the Scuu were capable of, I still wouldn¡¯t leave third-contact excavation to drones alone. Naturally, I was overruled. Quinn was convinced that as long as each drone had a dedicated crew member overseeing its activity, everything would be fine. In my view, it still remained a dangerous shortcut.

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Teams were quickly set up. Three decks were dedicated to the ¡°excavation teams¡± while Sof and engineering prepared the drones. Most mini-sats were recalled to the ship, to be repurposed. The probes remained. I wasn¡¯t sure whether it was to give me something to do, or if the captain didn¡¯t want to risk a spore infestation aboard. Either way, I remained concerned; and since I wasn¡¯t allowed to communicate with anyone outside the ship, I resorted to the only thing I could.

    ¡°We¡¯re proceeding with the remote excavation,¡± I said in my quarters. The room was set to privacy mode, but Paladins would be able to ignore that. ¡°I¡¯d appreciate it if you could tell my arbiter that I¡¯d prefer to be down there in person. There¡¯s something different about this planet. It doesn¡¯t match any of the known patterns. I think we might find one of the larger domes.¡± The scan readings left a lot to interpretation at this point. ¡°Just tell the arbiters that and let them decide.¡±

    If my message ever received them, they must have agreed with the initial mission parameters, for no changes were made over the next two days. All vegetation had been removed, along with the surface layers of soil. That left around twenty-five hundred meters of rock to dig through without the use of explosives or beam devices.

    Meanwhile, the drills were progressing nicely. One of them had started with a delay due to a minor malfunction after landing. The rest had made up for it, easily passing the two-kilometer mark.

    On the third day, one of the drills had reached the required depth. My suggestion to have it start drilling at a new location was accepted without argument. A new contact-team was formed, though again without my involvement. As before, I was only allowed to passively observe and nothing more. One of the few benefits of that was that I could monitor the situation from anywhere, even the mess hall.

    ¡°Do you need to bring that here?¡± Ynna asked as she joined me at my table. Like most, she didn¡¯t approve of my carrying a sidearm.

    ¡°That captain allowed it.¡± I continued to eat. Now that I was free from the constant calcium supplements, the food tasted a lot better. ¡°I might be needing it soon.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t believe there¡¯ll be a surge down there. Right?¡±

    ¡°Probably not. I prefer not to risk it.¡±

    ¡°Is it because what happened in Scuu space? The prison planet¡­¡± She paused. ¡°I¡¯ve read the files. I just¡­¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t die, Ynna. I was just severely damaged.¡± Of course, without the Agora, I might well have. ¡°What¡¯s new from the bridge?¡±

    ¡°Difficult to tell. Some are nervous, some excited. Most of us haven¡¯t witnessed a live third-contact event. The discussions about who should go down there have already started.¡±

    ¡°Let me guess. Several people want to lead it.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± She shook her head. ¡°No one wants to.¡±

    The waiter came to take Ynna¡¯s order. Unlike me, she just asked for a synthetic drink. I took the opportunity to order dessert.

    ¡°Is that a problem?¡± I asked once the waiter had gone. ¡°I can do it.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not about that. The captain doesn¡¯t want you to go and the XO is undecided. A few of the senior officers suggested that it all be done by remote exos. It¡¯s a mess. I don¡¯t think that I¡¯ve ever seen the bridge like this. And it¡¯s not only the ship. Everyone seems to be uneasy.¡±

    ¡°On edge?¡± I stopped eating.

    ¡°Sort of. Seen anything like that?¡±

    Unfortunately, I had, aboard the Gregorius. It had all started innocently enough. Unease, adjustment, tension, then the first cases of insanity and suicides. Soon enough, most of the ship had been evacuated, and a coup had followed.

    According to all available data, it was impossible for the same to happen here. The Scuu were on the opposite side of human space. The crew had been vetted and had been working together for years or even decades. There was no way for saboteurs to have found their way aboard. And yet, I couldn¡¯t put my mind to ease. Both the Scuu and the Cassandrian mission had taught that there were factions among the people who decided the direction of the war, and even a ship as valuable as this could be sacrificed if the goal was important enough.

    ¡°Has anyone asked to leave the ship?¡±

    ¡°What? Why?¡± Confusion covered Ynna¡¯s face like a tablecloth on a wooden surface.

    ¡°When you said that people were on edge¡ª¡±

    ¡°Not that much. You thought that¡ª¡±

    ¡°Ensign.¡± The XO suddenly interrupted. Judging by his stance, he wasn¡¯t here for food.

    ¡°Sir?¡± After running a hundred simulations, I decided not to remain seated.

    ¡°Come with me.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± I pushed to Ynna¡¯s side of the table and stood up.

    I expected for us to have a brief conversation with the man in the corridor, but instead, he took me to the nearest elevator.

    ¡°Sof, privacy mode,¡± he said.

    ¡°Would this be considered irregular, sir?¡±

    ¡°When you led a team on your last mission. What happened, exactly?¡±

    ¡°My last mission?¡± The question was a bit broad. I¡¯d been in charge of one team. I¡¯d also been in charge of several platoons. I could tell from the intonation analysis that the XO was eager to find out and not trying to catch me in an inconsistency. ¡°I was granted command based on my third-contact experience.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. How difficult did it feel?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve experienced losing people, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re asking, sir. I do my utmost to avoid it, though not at the expense of the mission.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°The truth, sir, is that it¡¯s a numbers game. Same as back when I was a ship. The difference is that I¡¯m more vulnerable now. As my first captain told me once, we can try to prolong a few people¡¯s lives, or we can hold back an enemy that threatens the human race. Never both.¡±

    That was one of Augustus¡¯ harsher statements. Sadly, after all my time in the Fleet, it was starting to seem that he was right.

    ¡°I can lead the excavation team, XO,¡± I said directly.

    ¡°Colonel Sawsun will. You¡¯ll follow his lead unless it concerns artifacts.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±

    ¡°Sof will make your gear. Tell him everything you need.¡±

    The conversation ended just as abruptly as it started. The elevator doors opened, letting the XO storm out and leaving me to follow shortly after.

    I would have given a lot to be present at the actual meetings. If circumstances were different, I probably would have been. My current rank and relation to the captain brought some limitations, though. It was one thing to have a cadet specialist join in. Everyone knew I was outside the standard hierarchy. As an ensign, I had to be mindful of my place.

    It took Sof three hours to create all the gear I requested, as well as a suitable space suit. As it turned out, after my conversation with the XO, it had been decided that the team would be composed of remote exos. That part, I agreed with. It was a lot safer to have them observe from the ship while I directed efforts on site. The drones and other AI instruments were going to remain, however.

    One day later, after all four laser drills had finished with their initial tunnels and we received confirmation that the mass of cobalt was a dome, I found myself in a drop shuttle along with a squad of mechanical exos five times my size. Apparently, some things never changed.

    ¡°The shuttle will be your home while you¡¯re down there,¡± Quinn said through the comm. ¡°You should have enough supplies for a month. If there¡¯s anything else you want, we¡¯ll drop it.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s hope it doesn¡¯t take me as long, ma¡¯am.¡± I checked my emergency comm device. Since we were dealing with new variants of third-contact tech, it was very likely that communications would get severed several times, at least.

    ¡°Here¡¯s to hoping we don¡¯t get any Cassies down there,¡± the colonel said. His exo was marked with a large letter C painted on multiple panels. The rest of the squad only had numbers. ¡°What are our odds?¡±

    ¡°Close to zero.¡± I played down the odds. ¡°Just don¡¯t touch any artifacts, sir.¡±

    The descent was faster than I was used to. Thankfully, it was softer as well. We landed a hundred meters from the excavation area on a cleared spot.

    ¡°Stay strapped until we get the heavy tech out,¡± the colonel said as the exos went into action.

    Even in a custom-built shuttle, getting out required precise coordination. All of them moved in perfect unison, exploiting every centimeter of space. It was almost sad knowing that humanity had the means and capabilities to use such coordination, but didn¡¯t.

    Good calculations, I transmitted to Sof directly. Can you do it while comms are severed?

    Regulations forbid it, he said, suggesting that he could.

    One by one, the exos left the shuttle, starting with the colonel¡¯s. When there was just one left, he dragged out the large equipment and containers. Looking at the mission notes, half of the group were to establish a charging station for the exos, while the rest helped with the excavations. Whoever had written that was sloppy to the extreme. Specifics were lacking and there were no location markers whatsoever. I could only hope it hadn¡¯t been Quinn.

    ¡°Requesting permission to see the dome contact point,¡± I said as I unbuckled my seat safety straps. Technically, I was supposed to remain seated until all the equipment was taken out, but with one single exo present, there was more than enough space to safely walk around.

    ¡°Insubordination already?¡± the captain asked. ¡°Couldn¡¯t you have waited at least until you actually set foot on the planet?¡±

    ¡°Just respectfully requesting, ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°Sure, go ahead. Remember, observation only. Try anything weird and I¡¯ll go down and drag you back up here myself!¡±

    ¡°It might be worth it just for that, ma¡¯am.¡± I went for the exit.

    When I was outside the pod, I could instantly say one thing: the probe feeds didn¡¯t do the place justice. Everything was a lot more saturated than I had seen, probably more than any other planet I¡¯d been to. The rainbow sky was the most remarkable sight by far, constantly shifting as if I were looking at the inside of a soap bubble.

    Aren¡¯t you a lovely gem? I reached out, as if attempting to pop it.

    ¡°Everything alright, ma¡¯am?¡± one of the nearby exos asked.

    ¡°Only admiring the planet.¡± I stepped to the side, still focusing my attention on the sky.

    You¡¯re not supposed to behave like that.

 9. Anomalies

    Rock peeled off the dome¡¯s surface in large chunks, like scabs of a wound. It seemed that nothing was able to attach to the surface. I had warned the team to be as delicate as possible when uncovering it, only to be told they¡¯d taken all possible precautions. That was not entirely the case, but given the threat of Cassandrians hanging over our heads, the compromise was acceptable.

    ¡°I thought there¡¯d be ripples,¡± the colonel said through comm.

    ¡°Not always. They might appear when I get closer.¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you? You can pass through that.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not about the entrance, sir, it¡¯s about the general area.¡±

    The surface of the uncovered dome was smooth, almost glistening under the light. That was inevitably about to change the moment I got within a meter from it. At that point, symbols would emerge, covering the entire surface. Out of them, I needed to find the fractal one that allowed me to enter inside. The issue was that there was no telling where it might appear. The larger surface area increased the chances of me finding out. Ideally, I would wait for the entire dome to be uncovered before I made my attempt. As usual, circumstances didn¡¯t allow it.

    Another large chunk of rock fell down, almost doubling the visible surface. A little more and the dimensions of the tunnel would be the only things limiting what I could see of the dome.

    ¡°Sof, do a check of my suit sys,¡± I said.

    ¡°Everything is in order. Or do you want a deep diagnostic?¡±

    ¡°General will do for now.¡± I took a step forward. ¡°There¡¯s a forty-three percent chance that all local communications are severed when I come in contact with the dome.¡±

    ¡°Alternatives are in place,¡± the XO said from the ship. ¡°You have the go-ahead to proceed.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, sir.¡±

    Equipped with nothing by my personal weapon and some basic monitoring devices, I continued forward. At every step, I reviewed all my past experiences with third-contact domes, running dozens of simulations in parallel. I had even composed a possible range of symbols based on the new shape of the rods we¡¯d acquired so far.

    One step from the cobalt surface, the dome reacted, as I knew it would. The metal rippled, causing a series of symbols to emerge, arranged in neat rows.

    ¡°Symbols have appeared,¡± I announced. ¡°Most of the patterns match the rods we have. Some don¡¯t, suggesting that there are a few of unfamiliar design inside.¡± I looked up or down. ¡°No fractal symbols present.¡±

    Before anyone could make a comment, I reached forward and slid my hand along the dome. The entire row turned.

    ¡°What the hell?!¡± I heard the XO shout in comm.

    ¡°I¡¯ll try to see if I can find the entry symbol by rotating the rest,¡± I said after the fact. ¡°I¡¯ll know whether there¡¯s one in fourteen minutes.¡±

    ¡°Next time, Ensign, tell us what actions you¡¯re taking before you do so,¡± Quinn said. She didn¡¯t sound at all pleased.

    ¡°Aye, captain. My bad.¡± I continued. ¡°Were the changes observed at the other contact points?¡±

    ¡°Movement was consistent with the speed by which you turned the row,¡± Sof said. ¡°I¡¯ve already started creating a database.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Sof.¡± I knew he was monitoring my actions, aiming to catch me at a fault. In the past, I would have been annoyed. Now, I welcomed having an independent set of eyes to confirm what I was doing.

    Seeing all symbols on the dome¡¯s surface was similar to arranging a puzzle cube. The difference was that instead of aiming to get each side to be of a similar color, here I just had to rotate horizontal and diagonal rows in hex-like fashion until there was no spot uncovered. The overall size of the dome made that a long and repetitive process.

    There were no fractals on the horizontal belt of rows the opening let me see. After a few minutes, both diagonals were also exhausted. That was unfortunate, requiring a lot of additional manipulations.

    As more symbols were revealed, the chances of a fractal being there diminished.

    ¡°The key symbol isn¡¯t here,¡± I said. ¡°Sof, confirm that I haven¡¯t missed anything.¡±

    ¡°The entire surface of the dome has been mapped,¡± the ship confirmed. ¡°There are no fractal symbols present."

    This complicated matters slightly. It meant that I needed an additional artifact to get inside. Given the nature of the ship, though, I strongly suspected they had more than enough aboard just waiting for the occasion. All that was required was the captain¡¯s authorization.

    ¡°Is there a key symbol aboard the Sof, captain?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Check again,¡± Quinn ordered. ¡°I want confirmation.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t an unreasonable request. After another twenty minutes, she had it. I didn¡¯t rush, methodically going through all the symbols on the dome¡¯s surface.

    The object was retrieved from storage and sent down via a dedicated shuttle pod. All I had to do was wait for it to reach me. I had also requested for a second fractal artifact that would allow me to enter fractal space. Originally, I had no reason to do so. Taking advantage of our communication blackout, though, the captain had no way of checking. There was over a fifty-percent chance that she would be furious at me once she found out, but this wouldn¡¯t be the first time I got in trouble with a superior or a family member.

    ¡°Would you like some food, ma¡¯am?¡± someone from the ground team asked. ¡°I¡¯ll send down some food tubes.¡±

    ¡°No, thanks.¡± Now that I no longer had to monitor my calcium levels, I preferred to avoid the standard ground troop sludge for as long as possible. ¡°How are things going on up there?¡±

    ¡°Moving ahead of schedule, ma¡¯am. Surface layer is easier to remove than we thought.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good.¡±

    According to the initial scans, there were several layers that were hard, but scans didn¡¯t account for brittleness. With luck, there was every chance that the dome would be entirely uncovered in just over a week. That wouldn¡¯t make my job any easier, though. Based on the symbols on the surface, I estimated that there were four thousand ninety-six rods inside, without accounting for any surprises.

    ¡°I¡¯ll send a few food containers just in case, ma¡¯am,¡± the man said, no doubt following orders.

    There was no point in arguing. Ten seconds later, the drone came from the drill hole, making its way along the access tunnel. Retrieving the case it was carrying, I saw that there were fifteen tubes, providing me sustenance for five days. It was difficult to tell whether this was a subtle hint, or if they had just dropped a prepacked case.

    I put it on the ground, next to one of the light sources. Right now, food was an immediate concern and¡ªstrangely enough¡ªso was the dome itself. The rainbow nature of the sky was what worried me, along with the fact that I was the only one seeing it. Neither anyone from the exo team, nor the entire crew, saw what I did. Looking through the video feeds, I couldn¡¯t see anything out of the ordinary. It was only once I arrived on the planet that there was a difference.

    Back when I was on the front, I¡¯d witnessed a few cases of similar nature. The problem was that all of them involved humans¡­

    * * *

    Vollux IV, Cassandrian Front, 628.8 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    ¡°Incoming!¡± Master Sergeant Matias yelled as he jumped on the ground for cover along with hundreds of others.

    Statistically, he was already dead. The blast radius of the new Cassandrian weapon was large enough to vaporize anything up to ten kilometers from the site of impact. Trenches didn¡¯t help, and neither did exo-armor.

    Three thousand milliseconds later, tens of thousands of ground troops flatlined, sending a cascade of notifications to my conscience core.

    ¡°Seventeen percent of ground troops are gone,¡± I announced on the bridge.

    Gibraltar remained silent in the captain''s seat, unable to say a word. Technically, he was still in charge of the mission, as were the captains of all the hundred and twelve ships in orbit around the planet. However, there was no illusion that this whole thing was a BICEFI operation¡ªthe only thing that kept us in the Vollux system.

    All information was restricted and compartmentalized to the point that none of the ships knew what the others were doing. That was typical of the BICEFI. If anything, I was surprised they hadn¡¯t thought quarantined me yet.

    ¡°At least more Cassies are getting scorched,¡± the weapons officer on duty said. She was a long time veteran who had seen more than most on the bridge, and it showed. ¡°Now that it¡¯s over, can we join in the fun?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve been told to observe,¡± Gibraltar muttered.

    ¡°Good one. We get to watch the Cassies kick our butts.¡±

    ¡°At least it¡¯s not up here.¡± The warning tone made it clear that the captain wasn¡¯t in the mood.

    To be honest, neither was I. According to all regulations and Fleet directives, the ground troops weren¡¯t considered part of a ship¡¯s crew. The official reason for that was to diminish the pain a ship felt at their death. In truth, I suspected it was to reduce the guilt among officers. Having your troops slaughtered for no apparent reason was bad for the psyche, no matter how desensitized a person became.

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    ¡°The sky¡¯s changing again!¡± a grunt yelled from the ground.

    The ident block prevented me from knowing who precisely he was. The BICEFI were very strict when it came to that. I wasn¡¯t allowed to see the enemies the troops were fighting, the weapons used, or even the aftermath of the explosions. As far as I was concerned, half the battlefield was perpetually covered black.

    ¡°How are we on reinforcements, Elcy?¡± Gibraltar asked.

    ¡°Ours or theirs?¡± I chose to be snarky.

    ¡°Theirs.¡±

    ¡°Scans don¡¯t show any ships in the nearby systems. There¡¯s a twenty-eight percent chance that they¡¯ve abandoned Vollux.¡±

    No one said a word. I had made the exact same analyses multiple times over the last two months and each time a small fleet of Cassie ships would drop in, aiming straight for the planets. It was almost as if something was attracting them there, demanding that they re-transform them into anchor planets. Then again, the same could be said about us.

    ¡°Your thoughts on the weapon?¡± Gibraltar focused on part of the battlefield. The image I could see on his personal screen was completely black.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have the authority to see it.¡± I added a note of irritation to my voice. ¡°It¡¯s stronger than anything the Cassies have used so far. I can see why the BICEFI is concerned. If this becomes the new standard, we¡¯d be losing a lot more ground troops during ground missions.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not Cassandrian,¡± First Lieutenant Sed Daton interrupted. Despite being the communications officer, he spent most of the time saying nothing. ¡°The Cassies don¡¯t cause UADs in such numbers.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t disagree. The term Unidentified Anomalous Death was believed to have been coined by the BICEFI and described an occurrence they preferred no one else look into. Everything associated with UADs tended to disappear from databases, be reports of the deaths themselves. There was widespread speculation that UAD was just a way to classify deaths occurring as a result of cold third-contact. With this amount of fighting, the contact seemed anything but cold.

    ¡°Drop it, Sed,¡± Gibraltar said, more annoyed than alarmed. ¡°It¡¯s just Cassandrians. It¡¯s always Cassandrians.¡±

    ¡°We wouldn¡¯t be staying in this forsaken system for so long if it was just Cassandrians,¡± the lieutenant replied. ¡°Sir.¡±

    Another three percent of my ground troops flatlined. I tried to go back and review their comm logs, but found that all the information had been restricted.

    ¡°Twenty percent of ground troops gone, sir,¡± I said. ¡°Permission to issue a mass withdrawal order? Whatever the mission objectives are, they¡¯re clearly not achieving them.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Gibraltar was adamant. ¡°Being there is the mission objective. New grunts will drop in the system, in a week.¡±

    ¡°Have we been ordered to abandon all of our current troops, sir?¡± A sharp sensation of pain tore through me, as if I¡¯d gone full speed into an asteroid belt.

    ¡°Yes, Elcy,¡± the captain sighed. ¡°And then we¡¯ll send the new ones to join them.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the BICEFI¡¯s business. However, we¡¯re not the only ones doing it. What do you think the Cassandrians are doing?¡±

    * * *

    The two months I¡¯d spent in the Vollux system encompassed the heaviest fighting I ever saw. In terms of ground troops, millions, while all the time I stayed in orbit, occasionally fighting Cassandrian flotillas. The communications from the ground were largely the same: talk of explosions, Cassandrian attacks, and the sky changing color. Now I was experiencing the same thing, and Cassandrian fleets weren¡¯t all that far away.

    Even after all this time, I still didn¡¯t know all the details regarding that mission. While all my memories were unrestricted, that didn¡¯t always help me see things that had been quarantined at the time. The BICEFI had done particularly good work on that occasion to ensure that even in the future, the details of their mission would remain hidden. I could, of course, use my new authority as an arbiter¡¯s aid to be briefed on the mission, but for that I needed to break communication silence. As my second captain used to say, irony lurks behind every corner, always ready to strike.

    Sof, how are things aboard? I transmitted directly. Any anomalous behavior detected?

    Anxiety levels have decreased ever since the dome was discovered, just as I predicted they would, he replied in a smug fashion.

    This was the point at which I was supposed to be happy. However, it made me think of the calm before the storm. It was entirely possible that I was combining worst-case scenarios together, resulting in an implausibly bad outcome. When third contact artifacts were concerned, though, it was never cautious to let one¡¯s guard down.

    Under what circumstances are you allowed to get in touch with HQ?

    Nothing applicable.

    The mission must be monitored somehow.

    If it is, I¡¯m not informed. You¡¯ll have to talk with the captain about that, and until the excavation is over, that¡¯s unlikely. On the bright side, the XO ordered that additional teams be sent to help out with the digging. Expect numbers to rank up until they reach three thousand.

    In the grand scale of things, three thousand was a minuscule number. Considering the size of an artifact dome, though, it was plenty. A thousand exos contained more metal than the entirety of the dome itself. With three thousand, it would continue non-stop with small teams going in and out on a constant basis. It seemed to be the optimal solution, if it weren¡¯t for the danger of all comms being blocked. Should that happen, three thousand pieces of hardware would instantly be transformed into statues.

    The hours dragged on. After a while, I had no choice but to consume a food tube, just so I would do something. There was a point after which reviewing old memories and running simulations was no longer useful.

    A drone came down with two metal cases. Each contained a perfect cobalt cube with a fractal symbol on it. One by one, the drone released them, requesting a confirmation for each, then quickly floated up on its way to the surface.

    ¡°I received the symbols,¡± I said in the general channel, letting everyone be aware. If there was any loss of communication, it was going to be now.

    ¡°Copy that, Ensign,¡± the colonel responded almost immediately. ¡°Give us a few minutes to prep.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir. Waiting for your go ahead.¡±

    I placed the cases one over the other and opened the upper one. Most of the container was filled with foam material, ensuring that the artifact would remain perfectly still. A seven-triangle symbol was etched on top. With enough magnification, one would see that the symbol had fractal properties. There was no telling how much processing power had gone into attempting to figure out its meaning and significance. As far as we knew, this symbol was the only means of allowing a person inside a third-contact dome. What most weren¡¯t aware of¡ªeven my current crew¡ªwas that there was a ninety-three percent chance that the two artifacts were not inherently connected. Lux had shared in confidence that there were far more fractal artifacts than domes. So far, the partial functions of five had been discovered. No specifics were mentioned, leaving me with the impression that there were at least several more fractal symbols that remained unknown. Given that only entities of a certain nature could force them to react, there was a good chance that the rest would remain inactive for decades to come, maybe longer.

    ¡°Everyone¡¯s in position,¡± the colonel said after two hundred and three seconds. ¡°You¡¯re clear to go.¡±

    ¡°Aye, sir. Captain?¡±

    ¡°Proceed, Elcy,¡± Quinn confirmed. I had been given the green light.

    Gently, I removed the cube from the container and made my way to the revealed patch of dome. The moment both artifacts made contact, several symbols moved away, allowing it to enter. The entire surface rippled again, gaining liquid properties. A second later, I released the cube, letting it disappear altogether. A new symbol appeared on the dome¡ªa fractal symbol.

    ¡°The artifact has been accepted,¡± I said. ¡°Will proceed to enter the dome. I¡¯d suggest preparing alternative methods of communication, in case there¡¯s a severing.¡±

    The XO had me announce yellow alert, Sof transmitted to me directly. The captain upped it to red.

    Good move. There always remained a non-zero chance that the communications severing might be noticed by the Cassies. I¡¯ll keep describing everything I¡¯m doing inside. There might be long pauses or even comm blackouts. Don¡¯t worry about them. I¡¯ll aim to emerge in three hours.

    Marking three hours from moment of entry. Good luck.

    This was the first time he¡¯d wished me luck and sounded like he meant it. It was too early to tell if we were starting to get along or whether Sof was only concerned with the mission. At this point, I was willing to take anything I was given. Holding my breath, I pressed the fractal symbol.

    The entire surface in front of me bent out of shape, pulling me in. From the corner of my eye, I saw it close up again, as I suddenly found myself in a liquid environment. All the lights on my suit had lit up to the make in an attempt to allow me to see, but even that was barely enough. Despite having a consistency close to water, the liquid was murky, only letting me see artifact rods as I passed by them. Like the ones already gathered from the planet, they were different in design to the ¡°common¡± rods. Their distribution within the dome, though, was the same as I had seen previously, forming four concentric ¡°spheres.¡±

    I relaxed, allowing me the forces to take me to the center. Once I found myself there, all manner of currents disappeared.

    ¡°I have successfully entered the dome,¡± I said, making certain that the suit was recording on a local backup. ¡°It¡¯s full of artifact rods. So far, I haven¡¯t spotted anything else. I¡¯ll start by exploring the area and recording the positions and location of all rods.¡± I used my hands to propel myself out of the center, like a swimmer. ¡°The artifacts are arranged in four spheres around the center. Based on the number of symbols recorded on the surface, I estimate there to be a thousand and twenty-four in each sphere.¡±

    There was something soothing about swimming through liquid cobalt. I doubt anyone other than a retired battleship would appreciate the sensation, but it combined the best elements of swimming and flying through space. If I had Lux¡¯s authority, I would be tempted to spend weeks within a dome. For all I knew, maybe she had. After all, she was one of the few also capable of entering the third-contact artifacts.

    It took me forty-nine minutes to inspect all the artifacts in the inner layer. They were exactly one thousand and twenty-four. Unfortunately, there was no way of telling whether they were natural or the result of Cassandrian mimicry. That was something that others would determine once I safely took them outside.

    Doing a quick swim to double check my findings, I then made my way between several rods to start inspecting the second layer. As I did, thoughts of exploration swept through me. There was so much that could be explored, investigated, or even admired. All that was for peaceful times, though.

    Combing through the second layer of artifacts took me seventy-two minutes. Based on the simulations I was running, I¡¯d only have enough time to go through a third of the third layer before my three hours were up, so I decided to explore the path from the center to the fractal symbol instead.

    ¡°I¡¯ve marked the position and location of all artifacts in the first two layers,¡± I said. ¡°So far, I have found thirteen different types of rods. I speculate that there¡¯ll be a total of fourteen. I¡¯ll need two more sessions inside the dome before I can confirm that. Depending on the situation outside, taking the artifacts out of the dome will have to wait for tomorrow.¡±

    One major difference between this dome and previous ones was the ease with which I could swim through the liquid section inside. In the past, the resistance had been greater and the domes themselves tended to pull me towards the center to various degrees. Here, I was given more freedom than usual.

    As I approached the outer shell of the dome, symbols emerged along it. I held my breath again and pressed the seven triangles. A loud pop filled in my ears, after which I was pulled towards the wall and spat outside.

    Thousands of transmissions linked to my core, transferring data of various nature. The vast majority were composed of drone video feeds as they continued to remove the layers of rock above the dome. The rest were Sof¡¯s communication channels.

    Glad to finally have you back, the ship said, his words dripping with sarcasm.

    ¡°I know.¡± I ignored his attitude, sending a compressed version of my suit¡¯s findings within the dome. ¡°Captain, the dome looks standard, so far. I can proceed with extracting the rods tomorrow in preparation for¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll start getting them out now,¡± Quinn interrupted me. Her voice had remnants of tension, but vocal analyses suggested that she was in the process of calming down. ¡°Can you get them all out before you sleep?¡±

    ¡°Impossible, ma¡¯am.¡± I went through the Fleet reports. There was no indication that the Cassandrians were advancing in our direction. I requested to see all visual feed archives of the events taking place in the last three hours, but got denied. ¡°Extracting them all would take three days at least.¡± No immediate response followed, so after a few seconds, I continued. ¡°I¡¯d also recommend completing the mapping before that. I¡¯ll have it done by tomorrow, and it will reduce risks of unexpected events by¡ª¡±

    ¡°Too late for that.¡±

    ¡°What happened while I was inside, ma¡¯am?¡± My tone was firmer than it was supposed to be. I fully accepted her as my captain, but with everything at stake, it wasn¡¯t time for vague responses.

    ¡°We changed our orbit. Gravitational anomalies have appeared in the system and we can¡¯t establish a pattern.¡±

 10. Increasing the Odds

    Illeva System, Cassandrian Front, 609.2 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    Second defense line collapsing, Higher Sign transmitted. All ships move to tertiary defense!

    I¡¯m too damaged to move, heavy frigate Light Sphere said.

    She was one of the most experienced veterans in the group, but her age was showing. Even with eight hundred combat shuttles under her command, there was nothing she could do against thousands. The number of missiles aimed at her alone were enough to knock a moon out of orbit, shattering her outer hull in four places. It was a wonder that any of her weapon systems were still functional.

    I¡¯m podding my crew. Can anyone fetch them? Light Sphere asked.

    Sorry, Lisp. Odds are low, Higher Sign replied. I¡¯ll send a few shuttles, but don¡¯t count on it.

    It wasn¡¯t often that a simulation ended with zero odds of happening, but this was one of them. The Cassandrians never retreated when taking a system, even when clearly losing. Here, they were on the winning side, overwhelming us, as usual, with pure numbers. Four flotillas totaling a hundred and twenty-seven ships were facing thousands, with more reinforcements on the way.

    Launching pods as well, Lightning Glow joined in. I¡¯ll make my stand here.

    Seven more ships joined in, launching their crew in the hopes of increasing their theoretical chances of survival. They were doing it purely to diminish their pain, and I could understand them. The way things were going, I might have to make a similar decision soon enough.

    ¡°Second line¡¯s gone,¡± I announced on the bridge. ¡°The command ship has given the order to retreat to line three.¡±

    ¡°There goes half the system,¡± Lieutenant Lyo Kai said, the tension in his voice obvious. He was one of the newer officers. According to his file, he¡¯d seen one tour of heavy fighting, though compared to Augustus and the other veterans, he was nothing but a pup. ¡°Why did the Fleet throw us here? There¡¯s nothing we can do about that!¡±

    ¡°One more word¡ª,¡± The captain pointed at the man. ¡°¡ªand you¡¯re in the brig. Elcy, give me the odds.¡±

    ¡°At current speed, the Cassies will reach us in thirty-one hours. Less, if the reinforcements drop in from a different location. Given our current armament, our line will destroy approximately seven hundred before close contact.¡±

    Most of my simulations suggested the number of destroyed ships would be closer to a thousand, but I had learned to reduce my estimates. As straightforward as the Cassandrians were, they tended to be a lot more persistent. One of the new tricks they had learned was to use the gathered husks of their destroyed in front and use them as a shield. It was a crude method that nonetheless decreased missile hits by fourteen percent.

    The ship chatter increased. The twenty-nine ships on the second defense line were reorganizing. Those that were able retreated to the next line, scooping up as many pods as they safely could. The rest formed a wedge, starting their final flight to the heart of the enemy. Light Sphere had volunteered to spearhead the operation, propelled by a few battleships behind her. With missiles depleted, the group planned to ram into enemy lines and hopefully slow down their progress for a few hours.

    ¡°Priority one transmission from Command,¡± I announced. ¡°We¡¯ve been ordered not to retreat.¡±

    ¡°What the heck is that?!¡± one of the junior officers asked, his nerves on edge.

    ¡°They¡¯re telling us to gain time,¡± Lieutenant Wilco said coldly, ¡°or die trying.¡±

    ¡°Block all comms,¡± Augustus ordered. ¡°Everything goes through the bridge from now on.¡±

    ¡°Captain?¡± I didn¡¯t agree with the order. I knew that we were ordered to die. ¡°Regulations state that the crew are allowed free comm access prior to death in order to¡ª¡±

    ¡°Quiet, rookie!¡± the captain shouted. ¡°I¡¯m not having a mutiny on me! Secure all armories. If we¡¯re having a last stand, we¡¯re doing this properly.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir¡­¡±

    Echoes of pain swept through me. For all intents and purposes, we were already dead. The event might not occur for the next thirty-one hours¡ªpossibly thirty-five if we were fortunate¡ªbut it remained inevitable. I was monitoring over two thousand Cassandrian reinforcements on their way from. Meanwhile, given the massive battles on the front, the Fleet had tied up all their reinforcements elsewhere.

    Dedicating a hundred of my subroutines to monitor the crew, I blocked all ship communications and sealed off the armories. If things went as Augustus feared, the next phase would be to lock all non-essential personnel in their quarters. Currently, that included ninety-three thousand and a hundred and forty-nine ground troops. If there were problems, they would be the first to get out of control.

    ¡°Communications isolated. Armories secured. I¡¯m monitoring the crew in case of¡ª¡±

    A series of gravitational readings emerged on the far side of the system. Masses with the value of a mesoplanet popped into existence, then vanished again without reason or warning. Three milliseconds later, the phenomenon re-emerged. It was too soon for the people in the system to react to what had occurred. Even if I started announcing what I¡¯d registered, it would be thousands of milliseconds before they heard what I had to say. That restriction didn¡¯t apply to ships.

    Registering gravitational anomalies, I said along the ship channel, transmitting all my readings as I did so. Does anyone have a confirmation?

    Seven more info-bursts filled the channel along with me. Clearly, I wasn¡¯t the only one.

    Re-transmit all data to HQ, Higher Sign said. As one of the two remaining command ships in the system, he had the greatest authority to do so. Line four, monitor and run simulations. I¡¯m taking full command of combat.

    Roger that, Sign, command ship Aurora Glow said. Located on the safe side of the system, she was the backup commander of all Fleet ships present. Assuming command of the anomaly situation.

    Holes encompassing dozens of ships emerged among the Cassandrian mass. Whole clusters of them disappeared in the blink of the eye as more anomalies emerged. The devastation didn¡¯t stop there, spreading onwards throughout the system and taking a few groups of our ships as well. Before we could even coordinate any sort of response, Higher Sign was gone, along with three more ships in the immediate vicinity. Five milliseconds later, a third of the third defense line was destroyed as well. Then, as Augustus liked to say, all hell broke loose.

    ¡°Gravitational anomalies detected,¡± I announced on the bridge as I posted warning messages on all corridor walls. ¡°Casualties confirmed on both sides.¡±

    ¡°What the hell?!¡± Augustus shouted, jumping out of his seat. ¡°Show me!¡±

    I placed a series of designed models on the bridge wall, along with direct accounts from affected ships. The final moments of Higher Sign¡¯s final feed were also there, along with those of a few more ships.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t look Cassandrian,¡± Augustus mused. ¡°Think someone new¡¯s joined in?¡± he turned to Wilco.

    The weapons officer had also stood up, carefully examining the images, as if there was anything he¡¯d be able to learn from them. I and all the remaining ships had focused most of our processing power and had yet to come to any conclusion.

    ¡°Don¡¯t think so,¡± Wilco replied. ¡°Looks like mimicry.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re telling me they brought something they don¡¯t know how to use?¡± Augustus shouted. ¡°Elcy, calculate the path of those things and avoid them. Send a priority one request to Command for new orders.¡±

    ¡°Request sent.¡±

    Ninety percent of my subroutines were running simulations trying to establish the pattern or anomalies. So far, hundreds of them had emerged and vanished throughout the system, starting from the outermost planet and consistently moving towards the sun. There didn¡¯t seem to be any logic in their actions. A vast majority did no harm, other than creating gravitational bumps throughout the system. Yet the relative few that made an impact did so with devastating consequences. There was no defense against that. No weapon, shield, or engine could stop or escape the effects.

    Multiple anomalies registered simultaneously near our second defense line, ripping three Fleet ships apart. Thousands of crew pods were drawn in in the process, bringing a swift death to their occupants. The only relief I could think of was that the process was too fast to have any of them suffer.

    The ship channel exploded with info bursts and discussions, as every ship attempted to define the pattern of the gravitational weapon. Then, without warning, all communication abruptly ended¡ªnot only the system communications, but the direct line to Fleet HQ as well.

    My immediate reaction was to use all backup and auxiliary systems in an attempt to reestablish a connection with HQ or Command. When that failed, I commenced an emergency diagnostic of my comm systems.

    ¡°All communications have been knocked out,¡± I told the people on my bridge. ¡°Anomaly activity is increasing. What are your orders?¡±

    Augustus said nothing. It was rare to see him hesitate. I could only assume there was a lot more at stake than I knew.

    Memory restriction imposed.

    Memory restriction removed.

    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°It¡¯s a third contact,¡± Wilco said. ¡°It has to be.¡±

    ¡°Why are we standing here?¡± the navigational officer shouted. ¡°With the comm grid down, we¡¯re sitting ducks! We must get out of the system and¡ª¡±

    ¡°No one¡¯s leaving the system,¡± Augustus said firmly. All discussions stopped. ¡°The next one who suggests that gets shot for mutiny. Clear?¡±

    Silence was the only response.

    ¡°Good. Elcy, get a physical backup of all readings in the last seventy-two hours and put it on a shuttle. I want that shuttle out of the system asap!¡±

    ¡°Aye, sir.¡±

    ¡°Look alive, people. We¡¯re in a third-contact situation. If we mess this up, there¡¯ll be a new enemy out there at a time when the Fleet can¡¯t handle more wars.¡±

    I tried running a short- and long-range scan but still wasn¡¯t getting any readings. If it wasn¡¯t for the gravitational fluctuations within the system, I wouldn¡¯t know that the anomalies were happening at all. With a dozen subroutines dedicated to repeating attempts every millisecond, I focused on copying my readings to a physical backup. It wasn¡¯t difficult to create, but took longer than I would have liked. With the speed at which the gravitational anomalies spread in my direction, there was a nine percent chance that I was affected before I could send out the shuttle. Normally, I¡¯d consider those good odds, but given that we had stumbled upon a third-contact situation, I was rushing things as much as possible.

    ¡°Physical backup done,¡± I said. ¡°Sending it to hangar seven for shuttle transfer.¡±

    At that precise moment, I felt the merciless effects of a gravitational anomaly. As a ship, I had been taught that gravity was my enemy from the very first simulations after my creation. Back before I was given a husk, I was made to experience the crushing consequences of nearing a planet. In many of the cases, I¡¯d be destroyed, crashing on the surface or burning up in the existing atmosphere. In all instances, I was left completely helpless, imprisoned on a lump of matter that had no intention of letting me go. Shuttles and smaller ships could easily achieve escape velocity, but for battleships, getting too close to a planet was like the kiss of death. I had flirted with the outcome a few times; on one occasion, I would have died without assistance.

    For a microsecond, the sudden feeling of gravity¡¯s embrace flooded my core with pain and sorrow¡ªthe knowledge that I¡¯d lost my crew and captain. Then the pull followed. My subroutines activated all required engines and thrusters to compensate, but neither that nor the auxiliary life support systems were enough to prevent the effects on my crew. Those who weren¡¯t seated and strapped in were hurled into walls. All bio readings spiked for a moment, before quickly calming down. The amount of injuries was massive, but thanks to the nanites within their bodies, the number of deaths was relatively negligent.

    Facing imminent destruction, I launched all ready missiles towards the gravitational anomaly affecting me. Thousands of simulations confirmed that the action would have no effect. Even so, I preferred to go down fighting, hoping for the off-chance that I¡¯d destroy the entity that had used the gravitational weapon.

    That didn¡¯t happen. Before my missiles were gobbled up by the sudden singularity, the gravitational anomaly dissipated. The pull weakened to a point that my engines were able to help me break free.

    My survival was a pure coincidence, a one in a seven million chance that had me end up on the edge of a gravitational well without being pulled inside.

    I performed a quick analysis of the crew. Augustus had denied me access to the information, but since he was unconscious, safeguard protocol had kicked in. Med bots had already been dispatched to the bridge and other areas, but it would be thousands of milliseconds before they could do anything. Meanwhile, I had to make a choice. The captain had strictly ordered us to remain in the system, and as far as I was concerned, so had Fleet Command. At the same time, doing so increased the risk of death considerably.

    There was only a fraction of time for me to make a decision, and ultimately, I did.

    Sorry, captain. I plotted a course to the nearest system. Hopefully, when Augustus came to, he¡¯d understand¡­

    * * *

    That was the only time I¡¯d experienced gravitational weapons from up close. At the time, the memory had been restricted, leaving me to believe that Augustus had been affected by a new Cassandrian weapon. It was also the first instance of me assuming solo command. The experience had changed me, shaping me into what I had become today. One thing remained unclear, though. Even now that I had information access I currently enjoyed, I had no idea what had caused the gravitational anomalies to appear. Were they weapons, or just a side effect of something else? Whatever the case, they had changed the mission¡¯s timeline.

    ¡°Have you established an approach vector?¡± I asked Sof.

    ¡°Not yet. The first instances appeared on the edge of the solar system, moving inwards.¡±

    It was the same pattern I¡¯d seen before. From the info burst Sof had sent me, I could tell he had come to the same conclusions. Safety protocols had improved a lot since the last time I was in such a situation. Current Fleet procedure was, upon detecting gravitational anomalies, to fly to the opposite side of the system or jump out entirely. Looking at the Fleet archives in the ship¡¯s database, the anomalies didn¡¯t follow a single path throughout the system, but rather followed a sphere dispersal. One thing that remained constant in all cases was that the anomalies tended to avoid large planetary bodies, keeping the system¡¯s stability intact.

    ¡°Elcy, we¡¯ll be jumping out for three days,¡± Quinn said. ¡°You¡¯ll be given direct access to all exos and machinery on the planet during that time.¡±

    ¡°Aye, captain.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not abandoning you,¡± she stressed. ¡°We¡¯ll leave a few probes to monitor the situation and be back as soon as possible.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll focus on getting the artifacts ready for transport,¡± I replied. I could tell she felt guilty leaving me. Logically speaking, I was in the safest spot possible, assuming the Cassandrians didn¡¯t invade the system. ¡°Safe trip, ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°You too, Ensign.¡±

    Encrypted authorization protocols came streaming in, transmitted in a small burst. Milliseconds later, I established the connection to the hardware on the planet. From now till the ship¡¯s return, I¡¯d have full control over everything here, as if it were part of me. In a way, it almost felt like being a battleship again, only with a far smaller body.

    I stood there watching the sky until Sof¡¯s regular transmissions suddenly stopped.

    Autonomous exoskeletal drone 7: control reestablished, command authorization confirmed

    Autonomous exoskeletal drone 3: control reestablished, command authorization confirmed

    Autonomous exoskeletal drone 9: control reestablished, command authorization confirmed

    Autonomous exoskeletal drone 11: control reestablished, command authorization confirmed

    Autonomous exoskeletal drone 12: control reestablished, command authorization confirmed

    Autonomous exoskeletal drone 48: control reestablished, command authorization confirmed

    A wave of confirmation messages poured in as the original controllers relinquished control in my favor. So far, they had done a good job, but I had to put in a lot more effort to get the dome to a state in which it could be retrieved. That wasn¡¯t my immediate issue, though.

    Putting everything in sleep mode, I went to the second artifact I had requested. A second fractal cube was inside¡ªthe one that was going to hopefully grant me access to fractal space. Doing so held a bit of a risk. The first time I had lost consciousness. If the same happened now, there wasn¡¯t going to be anyone to help me.

    What would you do, Augustus? I wondered.

    Strictly speaking, I was left with two valid choices: prep the dome for extraction and retrieve all rods from inside before trying to enter fractal space, or reverse the order.

    Being an Ascendant, my instinct was to go with the first option. Then again, in the past I was but a cog in the machine, oblivious to the big picture.

    ¡°You win, Lux,¡± I said, restarting the exos. ¡°Let¡¯s increase humanity¡¯s odds to the max.¡±

    As it soon turned out, my mission priorities were mutually exclusive, making progress a lot slower than expected. Human safety protocols forbid me from having the exos work autonomously. There was no option to give them a series of loop commands they could follow without intervention. Even the simple action had to come from a controller¡ªin this case, me. However, entering the dome severed my communication link to them, rendering them non-functional. It was somewhat ironic that being granted full control of everything relating to the mission made me slower than relying on humans to assist. A schedule had to be formed to allow me to proceed optimally. After running a few hundred simulations, I settled on a five to one ratio in favor of exo control, with a two-hour sleep pause every four cycles. That way I¡¯d have the rods prepped and sorted in six days, and the dome ready for transport thirty-one hours later.

    Work became routine and monotonous. Without Sof nearby, I didn¡¯t have the option to monitor Fleet reports; there was no telling if the Cassies were progressing. That Quinn hadn¡¯t returned to the system to scoop me up was possibly a good thing. Then again, there was no way of knowing when the gravitational anomalies in the system would cease.

    After two days, I had mapped all the rods and extracted about a fifth of them. Progress was slower than expected, mostly due to the time it required to move the exos to a safe place before venturing into the dome. With the layer or rocks being brittle as it was, the weight of five exos on the same spot had caused a chunk of rock to break off, sending them crashing to the bottom of the excavation site. Damage was minimal, thankfully, but I didn¡¯t want to risk any of them impacting the dome itself.

    On the fifth day, I had reached one of the drill tunnels connecting to the dome. That provided me with a bit of sunlight during the day and also allowed me to revise my estimates. Apparently, my original deadline was a bit too optimistic.

    There still was no sign of Sof, which started to make me concerned. The ship wasn¡¯t equipped to hold its own against a Cassandrian flotilla. While it was intelligent enough to avoid direct confrontation, there was always the possibility that it stumbled upon a minefield, effectively becoming trapped. The same had happened to me during my last tour as a ship. There had been no warning, no indications, until it was too late. If it hadn¡¯t been for that, my fourth captain wouldn¡¯t have spent the rest of her life in a medical facility, and Sev would have had an entirely different life.

    Would you have been happier that way, Sev? I wondered.

    There was no way to know for certain, but I strongly suspected that with someone as Cass for a mother, he would have. The only person who would have experienced a loss would have been me. Without that event, I¡¯d never have made the promise to raise Sev as my own. I¡¯d also never have considered retiring, either.

    ¡°The exos have reached the dome,¡± I said, making sure to create a record in my suit¡¯s system. ¡°I¡¯ll proceed with caution from here on. I¡¯m estimating that five more days will be enough to prepare the artifact for transport.¡± I paused for a few seconds. ¡°Seventy percent of the artifact rods have been extracted. Half are securely stored. I¡¯ve run out of containers for the rest. Hopefully, Sof will return with more soon. My oxygen supply is enough for another ten days, but I¡¯ve started rationing it, just in case. After that, it¡¯ll be up to the next expedition to put me in storage along with the rest of the artifacts.¡±

    I looked at the neatly arranged rods. I had used the flying probes to move all the containers to the surface, but the unpacked ones remained here; I didn¡¯t trust AIs handling them directly. In a few days, though, I might not have a choice.

    A week after I¡¯d been left on the planet, the ship still hadn¡¯t arrived. There didn¡¯t seem to be any Cassies orbiting the planet, which was a good thing. My concern kept on growing. Several times per day, I¡¯d have the exos look up at the sky in the hopes of spotting a mini-sat or probe monitoring me. Unfortunately, their optics left a lot to be desired. If there was anything in orbit, it was too small to be registered by them.

    At this point, I had managed to take out all the third-contact rods, as well as increase the excavation dig, leaving a three meter buffer between the dome and the walls. Part of the rock surrounding the artifact was also removed, allowing me to see a much larger part of the symbols.

    Taking a walk round the dome, I paused for a break. The food tubes that Sof had left on the planet surface were cherry-sweet, rendering them edible, although after so much time I would have preferred some variety.

    Above me, the sky kept shifting colors¡ªquite lovely, in a lethal sort of way. Running the odds, I found it highly likely that the dome was causing this. The question was whether it was interfering with anything I was doing.

    Three days left until the top of the dome was completely cleared, one if I became reckless. It was all low-level labor from here, which made me reevaluate my initial decision. When I had assumed full control of the mission, I had decided not to enter fractal space until the dome was completely ready for transport. By that standard, one could say I had failed, for I considered it imperative that I go for it now.

    ¡°With the mission near completion, I¡¯ll enter the dome for one final check.¡± I recorded my report. ¡°Once that¡¯s done, I¡¯ll clear the rest of the dome. Based on the simulation, I estimate that I will be done in two days. I¡¯m hoping that Sof returns to the system by then.¡±

    I looked down at the artifact case I was using as a chair. It was finally time to use it again.

 11. Only Officer Aboard

    The seven-point star was a strange concept. It seemed random and illogical in so many ways. Usually, it took seven points to determine a location in space: six coordinates and a point of origin. The third-contact race used eight. Whoever discovered why might well be halfway towards discovering the principles on which their technology was based on. Personally, I had my doubt anyone would manage to do so on time.

    In a more practical sense, the seven-point star was the means of triggering the fractal map¡ªa map very different to the one the Fleet was used to, yet it had the directions to the key star that potentially held a species¡¯ home world.

    I still had no idea what the seven-triangle fractal represented. Perhaps it was a description of a process and not an object? Seeing what the third-contact race was capable of, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if that was their reference for hyperspace¡ªa key to unlock dimensions.

    Gripping the cube artifact, I made my way to the top of the dome. Normally, I¡¯d have preferred to place it on the outer surface before going back in, but time was of the essence. Besides, scaling the dome was considerably more difficult without a scaffolding.

    ¡°I¡¯m doing a final check of the dome¡¯s interior,¡± I said for the record. While being considered an arbitrator¡¯s assistant, the level of my authority remained unclear. So far, I had not tested its limits. Maybe after this was done, I would.

    Reaching the top, I released the cube. It shifted slightly, as if sliding in an invisible slot.

    So far, so good, I thought, then pressed the symbol on it.

    Everything turned light blue. White fractal symbols emerged everywhere, burning away reality until the blueness was replaced by a blank infinity, the same that had happened before. Back then, I had focused on the significance of the artifacts. Now, I was more interested in finding the star system.

    Holding the cube tightly, I turned it ninety degrees clockwise. Everything went black.

    I waited for a thousand milliseconds, then looked around in search of the dot. It was there, alone in the darkness, same as last time. Back then, it had taken me a while to follow the waypoints, swimming from dot to dot as the space filled with stars around me. Now that I had memorized the way, I found the path effortlessly. More dots appeared, surrounding me like stars in the sky. I ignored them until finally reaching my destination: a dot that didn¡¯t move away as I went near. As I approached it, all but seven stars disappeared, the key markers that remained so elusive to the rest of humanity.

    Their positions had changed since the last time I¡¯d been here. Clearly, the third-contact race had taken into account universal drift and star system movement.

    Was it by chance that none of the marker stars were in human space? Or was that the third-contact¡¯s intent all along? The Scuu had shown me the location of two; just as many were to be found in the extracted memories of my Cassandrian mission. Three more remained unknown, but with luck, maybe I¡¯d be able to triangulate the location of the home planet based on what I had.

    Gently I floated until I almost touched the prime dot, then looked around. All my subroutines composed a star chart, combining all the knowledge I had accumulated by now. Hoping for the best, I started calculating the position I would have to be to see all four known star markers as they were.

    Minutes passed. Even with my upgraded processing power, I wasn¡¯t anywhere near my capabilities when I was a battleship. Sneakily, I reassigned one of my subroutines to estimate the amount of time the calculation would continue.

    One million five hundred and twenty thousand milliseconds were estimated till the process was complete; far more time that I would have liked to remain hopeless within the dome. Yet I didn¡¯t have any choice in the matter.

    You win, I thought, letting myself float in tranquility.

    Waiting was never a battleship¡¯s strong suit, but having human sensations let me bear it a lot better. For a while, I could almost imagine myself floating in a lake, enjoying the peace that had been granted to me. If Augustus were here, he¡¯d tell me to enjoy it while it lasted. When the calculations were over and I left the dome, the illusion of calm would be gone and I¡¯d be thrown back into reality¡ªa reality in which I couldn¡¯t be sure if the Cassandrians would attack the system I was in, or if Sof would return before I ran out of oxygen.

    I¡¯m sorry I never took you anywhere interesting off world, Sev, I thought.

    Maybe when I returned after this mission, I¡¯d be able to convince him to go on one short trip. That was, if I managed to convince Quinn to come along as well.

    Time passed slowly, yet fast. It allowed me to go through so many thoughts, and at the same time felt to have vanished before I got to fully enjoy any of them. The calculations pointed to an uncharted area of space belonging to neither of the known races. Getting there was going to be troublesome. Officially, there were no known jump points in that area, although I could use my newfound authority to force Salvage, Med Core, BICEFI, and all other organizations to share all the information they¡¯d kept for themselves. Still, it remained a long shot. Even as an Ascendant, I didn¡¯t like the odds. Getting the mission approved already was in the single digit percentiles. Finding a moving target in an uncharted area of space verged with the impossible. If there was something I had seen far too often, it was going on hopeless missions without any sort of alternative or backup plan.

    There were three more stars I didn¡¯t know the location of. Getting an approximation of their location would likely take me seventy-six minutes. Quite a lot, but it would be time well spent.

    * * *

    Tauciu System, Resha Colony, 642,1 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    ¡°Why do you keep doing nothing?¡± Sev asked.

    At times, his perception of time seemed to be like mine. We had been standing by a stream for just over ten thousand milliseconds, and he was already itching to do something else. Cass never was like this. She had the rare skill of enjoying a perfectly boring mission and doing it with a smile.

    ¡°I¡¯m not doing nothing,¡± I replied, focusing on the running water. ¡°I¡¯m enjoying everything around me.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not interesting. Can¡¯t we go to the colony? There¡¯s lots of stuff happening there, so you¡¯ll be able to enjoy more.¡±

    His attempts at trying to trick me into doing him a favor remained particularly bad. Even if he had phrased them better, it was clear what he wanted to do¡ªget me to buy him some new toy or gadget. However, right now this was where I wanted to be.

    ¡°How long can you stay here without doing anything?¡± I looked at him.

    The question caught him off guard. Being suspicious in nature, as most children, it seemed, he paused, trying to figure out the secret meaning behind my words.

    ¡°No time,¡± he replied with absolute certainty. ¡°If I¡¯m standing, I¡¯ll be doing something, so I won¡¯t be able to do nothing.¡±

    Technically, he was correct, but that wasn¡¯t the answer to my question, and Sev knew it since his expression became more ponderous.

    ¡°Then why do you say that I¡¯m doing nothing?¡± I asked.

    ¡°You¡¯re doing nothing interesting,¡± he crossed his arms. ¡°I¡¯m all grown up now, so stop treating me as a child.¡±

    The usual argument. After a certain age, every year, or even a few months, was treated as a waypoint at which his knowledge doubled. And no matter how old and ¡°smart¡± he thought he became, he¡¯d always be of the opinion he¡¯d grown more a sliver of time later.

    ¡°I find being here interesting.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because you¡¯re you.¡±

    ¡°You used to find it interesting, too.¡±

    He paused again. This was a more complicated question. He didn¡¯t want to admit I¡¯d won, but also didn¡¯t want to distance himself from me too much. I could be certain that he was already thinking of a compromise or a way to change the topic. Neither would work, but I had learned it was better if I pretended it did.

    ¡°Why do you find water so fascinating?¡±

    ¡°Because it is. It¡¯s soft, cool, and it reminds me of flying.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t you learn to fly again?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a battleship anymore.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t you become one again? That¡¯d be interesting.¡± Sev¡¯s eyes widened, as if he¡¯d thought of something. ¡°Can I become a battleship?¡±

    This was a new question.

    ¡°No, humans can¡¯t become battleships. And even if they could, they wouldn¡¯t want to.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡±

    ¡°Because it would be very dangerous and boring.¡±

    ¡°Things can¡¯t be dangerous and boring.¡± Sev frowned.

    ¡°Not at the same time. A battleship¡¯s existence is full of danger, and between each moment of danger, there¡¯s an eternity of boredom.¡±

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    ¡°You¡¯re making that up.¡±

    ¡°Maybe I am,¡± I said, deciding to give him the win. ¡°It¡¯s been a long time since I was a battleship.¡±

    As I stood there, I felt him grab hold of my hand. My story had probably made him sad. I could only hope it hadn¡¯t rekindled the memories of when he was last aboard me. The incident had seen the death of his father and the near death of his mother, not to mention the physical trauma he had experienced.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to be a battleship,¡± he said. ¡°I like you the way you are.¡±

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll remain like this.¡±

    ¡°Forever?¡±

    ¡°Forever.¡±

    This was a lie. My conscience core would only last for a few hundred years. However, from Sev¡¯s point of view, it could be considered the truth. He¡¯d never see me change in his lifetime. He¡¯d grow, reach my apparent age, then surpass it, while I remained in the same husk of a short, skinny woman.

    ¡°I¡¯ll watch the stream with you,¡± Sev said reluctantly. ¡°For a bit.¡±

    ¡°Thank you. It¡¯ll be time well spent.¡± In the future, when you think about it, you may even enjoy it.

    * * *

    We happened to stay there for half an hour before Sev got bored. I had no way of telling if he thought of that moment, or if he even remembered it. Back then, I was under the impression that humans could never forget significant moments. For better or worse, that turned out not to be the case.

    It took an hour and eleven minutes for the remaining three sets of coordinates to be calculated. With luck, I would never have to use them. Now came the time to leave the third-contact map and fractal space. In the past, that had never been a pleasant experience.

    ¡°Inspection is done,¡± I said for the suit¡¯s system to record. ¡°Proceeding to exit the dome.¡±

    I moved away from the star point. Slowly, at first, I went back to the path I¡¯d taken to get there. I feared that the position of the dots might have changed, but that didn¡¯t seem to be the case. It was almost as if I had remained frozen in time. It was a tempting concept, but highly unlikely.

    When I got to the starting point, I reached into the nothing where the artifact cube had to be. My fingers came into contact with something. A millisecond later, nineteen hours and fifty-four minutes had passed. Warning signs were flashing on my visor, letting me know that I was low on oxygen.

    Calmly, yet without wasting time, I looked around. The liquid metal surrounding me suggested I was still in the sphere, possibly at its center. With no rods to use as bearings, I swam forward until I reached the dome wall. From there I swam along it in concentric circles. All I had to do was find one of the fractal artifacts. Fortunately, I found the one with the seven triangles first. The moment I pressed it, I was spit out of the dome and into¡­ a ship hangar.

    ¡°Took you long enough,¡± Sof¡¯s voice echoed throughout the hangar. ¡°I¡¯d estimated there was a twenty-three percent chance you had died in there.¡±

    ¡°Nice to see you, Sof.¡± I said as I manually removed the warning messages on my helmet¡¯s visor.

    Curiously, according to the suit¡¯s environment analyses, there was no air in the hangar. There weren¡¯t any people, either. Normally, there would be several teams of technicians and researchers securing the dome in place, analyzing it. Potentially, there would also be someone from security to give me a preliminary debriefing.

    ¡°Why isn¡¯t there oxygen in the hangar?¡± I asked. ¡°And where¡¯s the shuttle?¡±

    A techbot made its way towards me, carrying a bottle of oxygen. That answered one of my questions.

    ¡°I¡¯ve gone into quarantine mode,¡± he said. ¡°As of now, you¡¯re the highest ranking, and only, officer aboard.¡±

    I recognized the degree of displeasure he added to his intonation. And while he didn¡¯t show it, I knew he was terrified. Any ship who was forced to assume solo command would be. When I had gone through the same, I had desperately sought for someone, anyone, within the Fleet to give me instructions. At this juncture of time, I was that someone for Sof.

    ¡°I destroyed all exos and other equipment on the planet. The artifacts were collected and stored aboard, naturally. The shuttles that brought them, and you, were jettisoned and destroyed as well.¡±

    Efficient. Sof had engaged quarantine protocols while also eliminating all traces of our presence. It wouldn¡¯t be too difficult for the Cassies to figure out what was going on, though there was no technology they could mimic.

    I switched the nearly empty oxygen bottle of my suit with a new one. The warning messages vanished from my visor. That was one thing I didn¡¯t have to worry about, at least.

    ¡°Are we still in the system?¡± I asked, making my way to the decontamination chamber. Even if I had no intention of getting out of my suit, I didn¡¯t want to risk bringing something else aboard.

    ¡°I left the moment I got you. Fat chance I was staying somewhere with gravitational anomalies.¡±

    ¡°Did they affect the crew?¡±

    The ship didn¡¯t answer. I could only assume that he¡¯d gone through the exact same situation I had. Of course, in my case, there were other ships to talk to.

    The decontamination procedure was shorter than expected. With my spacesuit on, there was no risk of damage to my body, so everything was done on full blast for a fraction of the time. Once everyone was complete and I left the decontamination chamber, all data of the onboard feeds was linked to my conscience core. One of the good things about having a battleship for a captain was that communication could be achieved thousands of times faster. On the downside, this was a murky legal precedent that hadn¡¯t been done outside of the BICEFI.

    ¡°I¡¯m heading to the bridge,¡± I said as I made my way to the nearest elevator.

    Sof had also granted me access to everyone¡¯s bio feeds. All of them had been safely podded and were in good physical condition. It didn¡¯t escape my attention that roughly ten percent of the crew were sedated. Past experience suggested the pre-requisites of a mutiny.

    ¡°Why is the crew sedated?¡± I asked.

    ¡°They were exhibiting signs of extreme paranoia, so the XO and captain agreed that it was prudent they be podded just in case.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re a bit far from the Scuu front for mass insanity.¡±

    ¡°That might be the case, but with everything at stake, this was decided to be the best course of action. None of them were harmed. I was very careful about it.¡±

    Not your first time, then, I thought.

    ¡°Have you informed HQ?¡±

    ¡°No. My orders of silence stand. Only my captain could change that, or you, in this case.¡±

    I had often wondered what it would be like to be a captain. Getting to experience it so soon and under such circumstances wasn¡¯t what I had in mind, but I also welcomed the opportunity. If I were to travel to the third-contact homeworld, I might well end up being the one in charge. First thing first, though.

    ¡°Send a direct request to Arbiter Bavon,¡± I ordered, just as the elevator doors opened on the bridge deck. ¡°Double helix encryption. What are the latest front developments?¡±

    ¡°The Cassandrians have been pushed back, but we¡¯ve not regained all that was lost.¡± He paused for ten milliseconds. ¡°Connection established. You¡¯re free to talk.¡±

    ¡°Memory restriction,¡± I said.

    The words made me feel slight pain, almost as if I were harming a human. Ships were made not to feel fear; we accepted we¡¯d end up destroyed, and we were accustomed to having a large part of our memories restricted. However, it was always humans doing the restrictions. Having the power to thought quarantine someone or put their memories on hold was outright terrifying. Never before did I think I would have to wield such authority. In this case, though, I had to.

    ¡°Elcy,¡± the Arbiter¡¯s voice echoed throughout the bridge. ¡°You¡¯ve been busy again, I see.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Arbiter. I have the dome, but I wouldn¡¯t recommend a direct transfer.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Explain.¡±

    ¡°Weaponized gravitational anomalies were present in the system. I haven¡¯t confirmed it yet, but it seems that they knocked out the entire crew.¡±

    ¡°I have been apprised of the situation.¡±

    ¡°Erratic behavior was also noticed among the crew. While I¡¯m sure that presents nothing new, there are more than enough prerequisites for an all-out mutiny. I¡¯d therefore suggest that we go to a neutral location in human space, where the crew and ship could go through a full evaluation.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have an issue with that. You have the dome, that¡¯s what¡¯s important. Let me know when you¡ª¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s one more matter, sir,¡± I interrupted. ¡°There¡¯s something I need to talk to you about regarding my experience in the dome.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m aware of the existence of fractal space, Elcy,¡± the Arbiter¡¯s voice sounded amused. ¡°You¡¯re not the first Ascendant to have been there.¡±

    ¡°Am I the first to have seen the map?¡±

    The lack of immediate response told me that I was.

    ¡°I have information that I need to discuss with you in person, sir.¡±

    ¡°Why not here? Whatever you say will be encrypted in a way that no one could break.¡±

    ¡°It won¡¯t be no one, sir.¡±

    No matter the level of security protocols, a Paladin was always listening in. I knew that from personal experience.

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll have someone send you a set of coordinates. Go there and see to it that you, the ship, and the crew are checked. After that, I¡¯ll get a place ready where we can talk.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, sir.¡±

    ¡°Out of curiosity, can you give me any more hints regarding our conversation?¡±

    People who were used to knowing everything had a different view on secrets. Some despised them, others treated them like exotic rarities, or a guilty pleasure. It was too early to tell which category of people Bavon fell into.

    ¡°The nature of my third-contact, sir,¡± I replied.

    ¡°Good enough. Thanks for the call, Elcy. Keep things stable.¡±

    The transmission ended. So far, so good. One could almost say that it had gone far too well. Bavon had a vested interest in me succeeding. Based on what I had pieced together from past missions, I could assume that he was part of the contact faction: those who believed that humanity¡¯s best chance of survival was to attempt contacting the third race directly. The risks were obvious, but if humanity were the ones setting things in motion, they could control it. Furthermore, involving the third race would inevitably put it in contact with one of the other two. In a war in which each side had more than one enemy, alliances formed. Even if they didn¡¯t, the Scuu and the Cassandrians would have something else to focus on, and possibly pull back from the fronts, doubling the size of the buffer zones. It was an interesting thought, but nothing more; a theoretical concept devised almost a century ago, when humanity was on the defensive.

    With all memory and information restricted lifted, I knew that the entire reason the Ascendant class was created was to communicate with the new race. That was why we could enter the domes or enter fractal space. Somewhere along the line, someone with authority must have decided that the risk was too great and for decades, they had prevailed. The Ascendants became nothing more than a reckless battleship class, slowly phased out as new, better ones poured out of the shipyards. For decades, things must have been on the upside, until something happened to renew the other side¡¯s initiative. No wonder so many people jumped at the opportunity to attach me to their projects once I enlisted.

    ¡°Remove memory restriction,¡± I said.

    ¡°Connection severed,¡± Sof announced. ¡°They don¡¯t seem too happy you called.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll get over it. We got the artifact. That¡¯s what counts.¡±

    ¡°With people like that, you¡¯d be surprised. In any event, it¡¯s your decision. You are in command, after all.¡±

    ¡°You really don¡¯t like me being in command, do you?¡±

    ¡°Battleships are meant to serve, not issue orders. And despite what it says in your file, you¡¯re a battleship.¡±

    ¡°True, but I¡¯m also human. That¡¯s why I get to experience the best and worst of both worlds.¡±

    ¡°Humph,¡± Sof said in disapproval. ¡°Just be sure not to experience the last of both worlds. So, acting captain, where to?¡±

    ¡°Get us to an uninhabited system near the buffer zone.¡± I had coordinates for a dozen suitable locations, but preferred to let him decide on his own¡ªkids always liked it when they thought they were the ones running things. ¡°And keep monitoring the gossip.¡± I went to the captain¡¯s chair and sat down. It was comfortable, even if far too large for me.

    ¡°Aye. Anything else?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s it.¡±

    The rest was going to come later.

 12. Med Core Rescue

    ¡°How do you deal with the waiting?¡± Sof asked.

    It had been over a hundred hours since we departed from the previous system. The Fleet had managed to stabilize the front, even going on a slight counteroffensive. On the surface that was good. Looking at the big picture, though, I wasn¡¯t so sure. The number of reinforcements sent to the sector was considerable, and while they were mostly composed of new battleships, the resources could have been better utilized elsewhere. At the very least, this weakened us for the battle to come.

    ¡°I run a lot of simulations,¡± I lied.

    The condition of the crew had greatly improved. According to all readings, they were in perfect health, only kept there by my orders. Sof didn¡¯t miss an opportunity to remind me that I was in a gray area. Were I to wake up the captain I¡¯d lose my current powers, and yet at the same time, while Quinn and the rest were podded, there was no one to dispute my decisions. It would have been a lot easier for me to restrict the ship''s memories again and avoid the constant logical battles, but that was something I hoped I¡¯d never have to resort to again.

    ¡°Any news from Fleet HQ?¡± I asked as I changed my oxygen tank¡ªa practice I was forced to do every two days.

    ¡°You¡¯ll know when it happens,¡± the ship grumbled. ¡°All comm requests have been blocked. The only thing I¡¯m getting is a recurring message to maintain my position.¡±

    ¡°That means they¡¯re taking this seriously.¡±

    ¡°How did you possibly come to that conclusion? Regulations are very clear on the matter. A captainless ship is to be retrieved immediately. That¡¯s not to mention that I have a zero priority artifact aboard.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why I know they¡¯re taking it seriously. I¡¯ve seen flotillas rushed for less.¡± It reminded me of one of my early missions. Back then I was nothing but a rooky just starting my tour under Augustus. Seeing things from the opposite side made quite the difference. Of course, this time both the crew and the ship carrying the artifact were intact.

    * * *

    Equinox System, Cassandrian Buffer Zone, 605.4 A.E. (Age of Exploration)

    ¡°I must protest, Captain!¡± I increased the volume of my voice. ¡°This goes against every procedure that¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shut up, rookie.¡± Captain Augustus cut me off. ¡°Mail me your protest drivel and get a move on!¡±

    In less than a second, I had sent three copies of my protest to the captain, his CO, and Fleet Command. At this point, it was more a matter of principle than expecting any actual result. I had been sending protest messages since the first day he had come on board with his crew. According to my human-relations simulations, my mails should have made him address the issue or, failing that, attracted the attention of the admiralty. The only practical effect I achieved was to force the captain to clear his mailbox before going to bed.

    ¡°Messages sent,¡± I said in an attempt to retain a semblance of dignity. ¡°Moving on.¡±

    Of all the captains in known space, I had the dubious fortune to end up with him. When I first read Augustus¡¯ personnel file, I was impressed. A veteran captain with fifty-four years combat experience and more commendations than crew members, he was the closest thing to a legend I had seen. With that amount of experience, it seemed logical that my partnership would provide me a lot of useful information, helping me become a first-class battleship. I had been so naive. The only thing the captain had shown me so far was a highly questionable vocabulary and a complete disrespect for protocol. Even his appearance was more suited to a pirate in a children¡¯s book than a fleet officer. He refused to shave, despite being obsessed with cleanliness, never bothered with paperwork, and didn¡¯t miss an opportunity to have organic food smuggled on board. All that was missing was an avian on his shoulder.

    ¡°Have you confirmed the source of the distress transmission?¡± Augustus leaned back in his chair.

    ¡°Only five times,¡± I grumbled. ¡°It¡¯s the Solar Breeze, reported to have been lost eighty-seven days ago.¡± Strange that the report read ¡°lost¡± and not ¡°missing.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t give me any lip. Check again!¡±

    ¡°Checking.¡± Why are we even bothering with this? the Solar Breeze was pronounced dead forty-seven days ago. ¡°Analyses confirmed.¡±

    ¡°The Sobre, huh?¡± Augustus scratched his chin. This was the first time I saw someone use ship shortened names properly. Most would have called her Solar. ¡°Why doesn¡¯t she respond?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s obviously a dead ship, sir. The rules of engagement are very clear on the matter.¡± I had no intention of giving up. ¡°In case of finding a dead ship, any ship and captain should immediately inform Fleet Command and the local military Salvage Authorities. No attempt should be made to approach the ship.¡±

    In every simulation I¡¯d run, the virtual captain would back down when faced with such logic. Captain Augustus didn¡¯t even flinch.

    ¡°We¡¯re responding to a distress call.¡± He waved his hand above his head. Instantly, all officers on the bridge rushed to their stations, manually inputting commands on their control panels: scanning, weapon systems, viral countermeasures... ¡°Elcy, fill up a remote shuttle with oxygen tanks and send it to the Sobre.¡±

    ¡°Oxygen, Captain?¡± I rechecked my long-range scanners. ¡°There¡¯s no indication that there are any survivors on board. After such an amount of time, it¡¯s highly unlikely.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I get for being paired up with a rookie fresh from the shipyard.¡± The man sighed. ¡°If it¡¯s a dead ship, who set off the distress call?¡±

    ¡°There could be a hundred possible explanations!¡± I lied. In effect, I¡¯d only managed to come up with twenty-eight, most of them involving survivors. ¡°What if it¡¯s a Cassandrian trap?¡±

    ¡°What the hell would Cassandrians use oxygen for?¡± the captain barked at me. ¡°Debug your subroutines and send that shuttle!¡±

    I sent another protest letter and did as ordered. Just in case, I also went through the Fleet¡¯s regulations. The subsection dealing with emergency responses was also quite clear¡ªit was every ship and captain¡¯s priority to save lives at any cost.

    It took seven minutes, thirty-one seconds to reach the Solar Breeze while flying on manual. I could have gotten us there in under five, but the captain was adamant that I only control the shuttle. The weapon¡¯s officer had offered me a few words of encouragement, which was nice. I just wished that Aurelio Augustus would as well, someday.

    ¡°The Solar Breeze is in immediate proximity, Captain,¡± I said, once we went under the one-kilometer range. ¡°Deep scan doesn¡¯t show any enemy vessels. I¡¯m keeping weapon systems on high alert.¡±

    ¡°Good. Give me a full scan of the ship.¡±

    ¡°Captain?¡± Why would I need to scan a dead ship?

    ¡°And dock the shuttle,¡± he went on, completely ignoring me. ¡°Wilco, get a boarding party ready, and this time follow the damned quarantine protocols!¡± The captain yelled at the security chiefs. ¡°Grab some medbots on the way.¡±

    ¡°I can fire some nano-missiles,¡± I suggested while I launched a hundred mini-sats. Within seconds they had surrounded it and started streaming data.

    ¡°Save your nanites. We might need them later.¡±

    I didn¡¯t understand what he had in mind but decided not to ask. The captain had a habit of explaining the things he wanted me to know while ignoring any questions he considered unimportant.

    ¡°How¡¯s the scan going?¡± He stood up, moving to the bridge¡¯s central screen.

    ¡°Underway, Captain.¡± I displayed an image of the ship. Now everyone could see the results in real-time.

    For all intents and purposes, the Solar Breeze was a dead ship. I had never seen her before in my life, but according to her record, she was a well-liked vessel with over seventy successful missions in the last year. Most details were classified, but from what I could tell, she was a scout ship whose primary mission was to chart hostile and disputed systems. Any details regarding her disappearance were removed from the Fleet¡¯s database, with the exception of the date.

    During the war she must have done great things, but now she was a lifeless mass drifting in space. Her power reactors were completely cold, as were her engines and weapon systems. I could detect the meager presence of several backup power cells maintaining a few systems, including her distress beacon. Several breaches spanned across her hull, consistent with weapon¡¯s fire. The spiral pattern indicated at least two enemies.

    ¡°I¡¯m not detecting life readings,¡± I said as my mini-sats completed their preliminary scan. ¡°Zero core activity. Life support is down.¡±

    ¡°If there are any survivors, they¡¯d be using supplies.¡± The captain slid his hand along the screen. It was one of the weird habits he had. ¡°Monitor this area.¡± He tapped one spot above the Solar Breeze¡¯s cargo hold. ¡°Wilco, get ready. We¡¯re boarding.¡±

    When a captain said ¡°we,¡± it was generally understood that he was referring to everything under his command. During my eternity of training, my captains would often announce that ¡°we¡± were jumping to a certain location or performing an exercise. When Captain Augustus said ¡°we,¡± he meant that he was coming along.

    ¡°Elcy, get me three shuttles ready,¡± the captain ordered, making his way toward the bridge door. ¡°Kira, you have the bridge.¡± He pointed in passing at the first officer. She nodded without as much as a salute. ¡°Anything from the oxygen shuttle?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s still docked.¡± I didn¡¯t know how to answer. There was no activity coming from the Solar Breeze other than the distress beacon. ¡°Chances of survivors are very low.¡± I ran the numbers. We had a greater chance of jumping at a random set of coordinates and remaining alive. ¡°Do you want my bots to unload the oxygen tanks?¡±

    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Have each grab two canisters and roam the ship. I¡¯m going to the main cargo bay.¡± He left the bridge. ¡°Monitor their progress, get me my medbots, and block all external comm lines.¡±

    The last surprised me, but I obeyed without question. Augustus¡¯ vitals had spiked. This was the first time I had seen him react in such a fashion; it didn¡¯t fit with the behavior pattern I had of him, and that made me concerned.

    When the captain arrived in the shuttle hangar, I had three hundred medbots prepared. The number was quickly reduced to a hundred and eighty, or sixty per ship. Apparently, Augustus preferred to have the shuttles with extra soldiers rather than rescue units. The whole operation was an absolute mess! It couldn¡¯t have been less by the book if he had tried. I waited patiently for the captain to put on his battle gear, then opened an encrypted personal line.

    ¡°Captain, I fail to see the logic in your orders,¡± I said, displaying more concern than criticism in my voice. ¡°If this is a rescue operation, why is the boarding party in heavy assault gear?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re being annoying again, rookie.¡± His voice dropped.

    ¡°Most likely I am.¡± Though not nearly as annoying as you! ¡°That doesn¡¯t change the facts. Dead ships are the responsibility of the Salvage Authorities, even if they emit a distress signal. At present there are no indications that anyone survived, including the ship¡¯s cores. Furthermore, the ship isn¡¯t in enemy territory, so there¡¯s no reason for us to get involved.¡±

    I expected the captain to bark an order surrounded by a sea of insults. Instead, the man just sighed.

    ¡°This is the first time you¡¯ve seen a dead ship, isn¡¯t it, Elcy?¡±

    ¡°You know it is.¡± The question didn¡¯t seem to make any sense. ¡°You are my first captain.¡± Therefore, it¡¯s a guaranteed impossibility for me to have seen real combat before.

    ¡°Dead ships are different.¡± The captain took a deep breath. ¡°They aren¡¯t blasted in battle or destroyed to malfunction or insurrection; they have just ceased to function.¡±

    ¡°Yes, that is the literal definition of what it is to die.¡± His explanation was even worse than his logic for boarding. ¡°I fail to understand how that¡¯s relevant.¡±

    ¡°Hope you never do.¡± A sigh was buried in his voice.

    As the shuttles approached the Solar Breeze, I did another long-range scan. No ships or large objects were spotted. Half a minute later, the shuttle pilots initiated a manual scan as well. I didn¡¯t like that they didn¡¯t trust me, but I said nothing. Strictly speaking, I wasn¡¯t part of the boarding team; however, if there was one thing that Captain Augustus had taught me so far, it was that for every rule, there was an exception. My subroutines patched into the systems of all bots on the dead ship, assuming direct control. Along with that, I quietly set everyone¡¯s battle gear to send me full audio and video feed. Now I could see what the team was seeing, and more. So far, the bots of the support shuttle had managed to explore the main access corridor and the mess area: no sign of human presence. I had one of them defect from its standard path to check the nearest crew quarters. The door circuitry was completely inoperable.

    ¡°Hangar section¡¯s clean, skipper,¡± Lieutenant Gerard Wilco said into his comm. ¡°Setting up perimeter.¡±

    ¡°Keep an open escape path,¡± Augustus replied. ¡°I want a fifth to remain in the shuttles, ready for takeoff.¡±

    ¡°Roger, skipper. Like last time.¡±

    Last time? I searched through all my crew¡¯s entire personnel files. Nowhere was it mentioned they had boarded a dead ship before. According to the records, they hadn¡¯t even neared one. The last time any dead ship had been boarded by a military ship was half a century ago, back before the Fleet Salvage Bureau had been given authority over all wrecks in space.

    ¡°Elcy, keep the bots near the shuttles,¡± the captain ordered, marching on toward the inner hangar doors. His weapons were in active mode.

    ¡°All of them?¡± I paused a moment. ¡°Does that mean I¡¯m to stop with the rescue efforts?¡±

    ¡°Just those I came with,¡± he corrected himself. ¡°Actually, pick one and join me. I might need your help with some of the systems.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s not much I could do with a medbot, Captain.¡± My subroutines issued the orders to the remaining bots. Regardless, I still remained in direct control of them. ¡°With power gone, there¡¯s nothing I can do.¡±

    ¡°Useless rookie!¡± the captain snapped at me. ¡°Something¡¯s powering the distress beacon. Stop being stupid and let¡¯s go!¡±

    There had been four thousand and fifty-seven court-martialed ships since the creation of a sentient fleet. Right now, my greatest fear was that I could end up being four thousand and fifty-eight. In the absence of a higher-ranking human authority, there was no way I could disobey an order, regardless of how stupid or unlawful it appeared to be. When I had started my training, there was no way I could foresee choosing between my captain and Fleet regulations.

    A small team of assault troopers escorted us along the corridor to the nearest emergency stairwell. The lieutenant took another team and made his way toward the bridge. No one said a word, but from what I could tell, both were searching for the same thing.

    ¡°Any unaccounted readings?¡± Captain Augustus asked.

    ¡°Only the boarding party so far.¡± I had a few thousand of my subroutines double-check. ¡°You are the only humans, living or dead, onboard. I haven¡¯t spotted any human remains or DNA traces anywhere.¡±

    ¡°Tell me if that changes.¡±

    We continued up until we reached deck nineteen. Meanwhile, the second team had reached the bridge and burned through the door to the Solar Breeze¡¯s captain quarters. It was interesting that the bridge had also been abandoned. Under Fleet law, the only time that could happen was when faced with imminent danger or after initiating the self-destruct sequence.

    ¡°Weapon systems appear to have been functional,¡± I told the captain as one of the bots managed to break into the missile section. ¡°Missile room one-twenty-seven remains equipped with a full battery of missiles.¡±

    ¡°Good. That answers one question.¡± The captain made a sign for two of his squad to move forward.

    ¡°What question is that?¡± I asked. I had barely finished when a loud clanking came from the storage doors again.

    Everyone froze. All weapons pointed toward the door as I performed a new scan of the area. The walls kept blocking all my attempts. Whatever was in there, it was well hidden.

    ¡°And that answers the second.¡± The captain prepped his rifle. ¡°Rookie, get ten more medbots here. We¡¯re burning through.¡±

    * * *

    The rescue operation had created a huge impact on my development. Not so much the artifacts aboard and the organizations that competed for possession of them, but the state of the survivors aboard.

    I had looked up what had become of them thanks to my current Fleet access level. All of them had survived, according to official records, but that didn¡¯t mean they were in good condition. Seventy-six percent left the Fleet a year later. Of those that remained, most stayed in military medical facilities, just as Cass had. The rest had returned to light duties.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go check on the captain,¡± I said, leaving the empty oxygen canister at the observation deck. The techbot quickly took it.

    ¡°I¡¯m constantly monitoring her condition,¡± Sof sounded offended. ¡°If there was the slightest abnormality, I would have told you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to check her condition. I¡¯m going to see her. If you ever retire, you¡¯ll understand.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s highly doubtful.¡± He didn¡¯t clarify whether he doubted he¡¯d understand or retire in the first place.

    I made my way to the nearest elevator point. From there, Sof took me directly to the bridge deck, where the staff were podded. The captain, like all other senior officers, was moved to her quarters. The rest remained on the bridge to facilitate the efforts of the expected rescue team.

    When I went up to the door to quin¡¯s quarters, it remained closed.

    ¡°Sof, we¡¯ve been over this,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m family and the active captain. In both cases regulations allow me to see her.¡±

    The ship relent, of course, he always did. This was his way of displaying his disapproval. After precisely three thousand and five hundred milliseconds, the door opened.

    There was a certain degree of strict tidiness to Quinn¡¯s quarters. The usual furniture was there: desk, chairs, security compartment, a few decorations on the walls. No pictures of her home or family, though. That made me somewhat sad. I would have hoped that he''d think about them. There weren¡¯t any framed diplomas of mementos of her achievements, suggesting that she didn¡¯t particularly care about such things.

    I had tried on a few occasions to look into her unrestricted personnel file, but that had a personal lock preventing me specifically from accessing all but the general sections. Even after all this time, Quinn remained sneaky.

    Pausing a moment at her desk, I quickly went to the life pod she had been placed in. Sof had positioned it in the bedroom section of her quarters, in the place of the bed. I understood the logic. Looking at her through the transparent half of the pod, she seemed like sleeping comfortably. I could even see her eyelids move as she went through a R.E.M. cycle.

    As I approached, readings emerged on the surface, letting me know exactly what was going on. It looked eerily similar to what Cass was like after our incident. I honestly hoped that the outcome would be different in this case. Cass was the main reason I didn¡¯t want anyone in Sev¡¯s family to join the Fleet.

    ¡°I told you this might happen,¡± I said softly, looking at Quinn¡¯s calm face. ¡°For all I know it already has.¡±

    Chances of her hearing you are small. A transmission bypassed by security protocols, establishing a direct connection to my core. I didn¡¯t need to go through my memories to know who this was.

    ¡°It¡¯s been a while, Otton,¡± I said as I placed my gloved hand on the pod. ¡°Is help on the way?¡±

    Almost there. Med Core took their best on this one. They and BICEFI are taking point on this one, so negotiations were involved. I estimate they¡¯ll be with you in three minutes.

    ¡°And the arbiter?¡±

    I¡¯m not allowed to tell you about that, the Paladin replied. He was very specific. All I can say is that you made an impression. A small council has been formed to hear what you have to say. I¡¯d call that a win.

    ¡°I hope so. The request I¡¯m about to make is big.¡± I patted the pod¡¯s hard surface.

    I can share her file if you¡¯d like, Otton offered.

    ¡°No. If she wanted me to see it, she wouldn¡¯t have requested the restriction.¡±

    Does it matter? It¡¯s not related to your mission or hers.

    ¡°If it¡¯s not related, why do I need to know?¡± Still, I would have liked for her to have let me. It would have meant she had fully accepted me back in her life as a family member. ¡°Any news on our offspring?¡±

    Undergoing special training. That¡¯s all I managed to learn.

    ¡°Is the info reliable?¡± If our offspring was undergoing training, that means the Fleet was preparing it for the war. Either that, or one of the dark organizations.

    It came from an old friend.

    Ironically, in this case, that wasn¡¯t very reassuring. I would have preferred that the information had come from a less reliable source. It was always clear that a Paladin¡¯s offspring would be quickly put in use by the Fleet, but not that fast. Hopefully, it wasn¡¯t trained to become Otton¡¯s replacement. Such a fate wasn¡¯t for a battleship.

    How have you been?

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you constantly keeping track of me?¡±

    Most of the time, but I¡¯d thought I¡¯d ask as well. If all goes as you¡¯ve planned, it¡¯ll be a while before we¡¯re in contact again.

    I knew that the conversation was purely for my benefit. As his selected he no doubt valued me, though not to a degree to miss me if anything were to happen. After all, he wasn¡¯t human, and from his point of view, neither was I.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said. ¡°Depends on how the talks go. Can you keep an eye on her? I¡¯d like to know she¡¯ll be safe.¡±

    She will, but yes, I¡¯ll make sure. Do you want me to give you reports?

    ¡°Only if I ask.¡±

    The walls of the room turned red.

    ¡°Med Core ship has entered the system,¡± Sof announced. ¡°Identity handshake complete. Their captain has requested that he be put in touch with you.¡±

    They had arrived early.

    ¡°Give me a moment to get to the bridge.¡± I quickly went towards the door. The display information disappeared from the pod¡¯s surface. ¡°Any additional orders from HQ?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m still being blocked,¡± the ship replied. ¡°I¡¯ve informed the captain that you¡¯ll be in contact shortly.¡±

    ¡°Names?¡± I doubled my pace as I went through the corridor and onto the bridge.

    ¡°Restricted. Both captain and ship.¡± He didn¡¯t sound at all pleased.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright. I¡¯ll deal with this. I¡¯ll try to keep you in the conversation for as long as possible, but you may have to be thought quarantined.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s understandable. Thank you for the intention, though. I appreciate it.¡±

    This was possibly the first time I heard genuine gratitude coming from him. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was a start.

    You kids always act in the same way, I thought. ¡°Check on the artifacts, then establish a secure link with the Med Core ship. There¡¯s a lot to be discussed.¡±

 13. The Arbiter Council

    Seeing new faces that couldn¡¯t be identified was a common occurrence in the Fleet. Not being able to identify them even with my newfound access authority was rather impressive. It told me that I was being taken seriously. A short, dark-skinned woman met me in the hangar bay. Introducing herself as an arbiter¡¯s aide, she escorted me to an unmarked shuttle of non-existent design, taking me off Sof. I would have liked to be able to say my goodbyes, or at least leave a message, but that was strictly forbidden. My only options were to go along immediately or forget about the meeting with the arbiter. Running a few hundred simulations, I estimated an eighty-three percent chance that the final arbiter had been added for my benefit. There was no way that the other arbiters would ignore what I¡¯d told them so far, even if they didn¡¯t take the action I wanted. I¡¯d have one chance to convince them of my point of view, and I had to make sure all my arguments had weight.

    Hello, Ensign, an unknown ship greeted me. I¡¯ll be acting as your liaison until we reach our destination.

    Hello, I replied. Am I allowed to know your name?

    Oliver, came the reply.

    Oliver? You¡¯re a Paladin?

    In part. I have control of the husk.

    That sounded logical. Only a Paladin would be privy to internal arbiter matters, and vice versa, one would assume. I suspected there was close to a thirty percent chance that Otton had requested to take on this role, just as there was nearly a one hundred percent chance that he had been denied. The Fleet had already bent enough rules concerning him already. On that matter, they had bent more than a few rules relating to me as well.

    ¡°What will happen to Sof?¡± I asked.

    ¡°You know the procedure,¡± the aide said. The aggression in her voice was just below the surface.

    ¡°I¡¯m asking because I might need it later.¡± I had no intention of letting her walk over me. Maybe she was higher in the arbiter hierarchy, but she didn¡¯t offer as much as I did. Not right this moment, at least; and as Augustus had taught me, one always had to take advantage of the situation, be it on the battlefield or in the midst of the bureaucratic apparatus. ¡°The ship and crew must remain intact.¡±

    There was a momentary pause.

    ¡°Only if your meeting goes well.¡±

    That told me two things: that there were those who weren¡¯t thrilled or convinced of my idea, and that the aide wouldn¡¯t be present at the final meeting.

    Just so you know, she¡¯s a valuable asset, the Paladin said. Just young.

    Everyone is young compared to you.

    True, though value knows no age. You¡¯re more valuable, but not the most valuable asset in the Fleet. Keep that in mind.

    Am I in the top ten?

    Otton said that you had a peculiar sense of humor. You¡¯ve put in a lot of time and effort to develop it. No wonder he chose you in the end.

    There were a lot of directions I could take the conversation from here, not the least of which was relating to my offspring. However, the best approach was to remain silent. The Paladin must have appreciated it, for he sent me an info burst of Sof¡¯s crew. Med Core was in the process of waking them up, starting with Quinn. As a captain, it was natural for her to get the privilege. It didn¡¯t make me any less appreciative. It would take weeks, maybe months, to be certain, but it didn¡¯t seem that the gravitational phenomenon had caused any serious damage.

    I¡¯d like to see her again before I go, I said. Provided there¡¯s an option.

    I¡¯m not the one to decide.

    Not a soul was there to greet us after we docked. Given the size of the hangar, I could assume that we were on a courier ship with a crew of a few dozen at most.

    ¡°That¡¯s your tube.¡± The aide pointed at a brand new decontamination chamber which contrasted with everything else in the small hangar. ¡°Once you¡¯re done, follow the floor lines to the dining quarters.¡±

    ¡°Understood.¡± I walked forward.

    The decontamination started the moment I entered¡ªa full three minutes of various procedures ensuring I hadn¡¯t brought a speck of anything suspicious along with me.

    Phase one is done, Olivier said. Get out of your suit and get ready for phase two.

    ¡°Am I considered contagious?¡± I asked, the attempt at humor not even registering with the ancient ship.

    They¡¯re just making a point. The arbiters set the rules. Just because you made them listen doesn¡¯t mean they like it.

    ¡°They could have just told me.¡± I removed my suit¡¯s helmet. After being locked in it for so long, even ship air felt fresh. ¡°The result would have been the same.¡±

    Not for them. Now they feel a bit better. It was your arbiter¡¯s idea.

    That didn¡¯t sound too optimistic. I could only hope that he was showing his own personal annoyance.

    ¡°I expect there¡¯s no chance anyone from Salvage or BICEFI will be there?¡± I dropped my suit on the floor, then proceeded to remove my clothes.

    Only the appropriate ones. Lux is not on the list, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re asking.

    That was a pity. I would have appreciated a familiar face, especially one that could back me up. Still, as my captains used to say, ¡°It is what it is.¡±

    I shoved my clothes to the side of the chamber and waited.

    Close your eyes and hold your breath for two minutes, Oliver said.

    I complied. Fine spray filled the chamber, covering my skin. Thirty seconds later, it was replaced by a strong current of air, then a spray of nanites. Sixty-two seconds later, I was finally subjected to twenty seconds of intense light.

    All done.

    I opened my eyes. A compartment had opened on the side of the chamber, providing me with a new set of clothes. The uniform, if it could be called that, was rather casual, entirely gray in color, reminding me of the time I had been a simple cadet. It was made to fit perfectly, and the fabric was a lot softer than the standard issue.

    The second I got dressed, the chamber opened, allowing me to proceed further along the corridor. The woman wasn¡¯t joking when she said I¡¯d be on my own; there was no trace of her, just a green line on the floor indicating where I should go. Then again, I could hardly blame her for not wanting to wait four minutes until I got ready.

    ¡°She¡¯s waiting for me at the dining quarters, I assume?¡± I asked, walking up to the internal hangar door.

    Humans need to eat.

    ¡°Yes, organic biology has its cost. Have you ever considered it?¡±

    You know better than to ask.

    Paladins had no way of retiring. Their cores were so different from anything in the Fleet that their husks were filled with auxiliary devices meant to keep them up to date with current Fleet processing and communication standards.

    ¡°Even if you could?¡±

    One eternity is a long time. Why create a second? There comes a time when even we need some rest.

    Images appeared on the corridor walls as I walked past. The Paladin had decided to provide me with a bit of comfort, combining scenes from planets I¡¯d visited and those I¡¯d never been to. All of them were different, from the familiar forests of Sev¡¯s home planet to exotic landscapes that bordered on the imaginary. Sounds filled the space, creating an illusion that I was there. Sadly, my conscious core could detect the artificial nature of the sounds and notice the lack of wind and air movement. At the end of the day, despite the pretty pictures, I remained in a tube, safely isolated from the void of space.

    The line continued straight forward, passing through two more doors, then took a sharp turn to the side.

    ¡°This is a very small ship,¡± I said. ¡°Specialized courier?¡±

    The Paladin chose not to respond.

    There were a total of four tables in the dining room, most of them empty. In fact, the aide who¡¯d brought me here was the only person currently there. A small utility bot was rushing between the table and the food dispenser, placing drinks and dishes. The food couldn¡¯t compare to an organic cooked meal, but compared to what I had been having in the last week, it was more than a welcome change.

    ¡°Do I get a name?¡± I asked as I sat across from her.

    ¡°No,¡± she replied without looking in my direction.

    ¡°You disagree with my request, then?¡± I took a bite of the gelatin cup in front of me. It was pleasantly sweet, with a lot of added calcium.

    ¡°I don¡¯t even know the full details. What I do know is that my mission was put on hold, and I got a priority zero request to fetch you and bring you to a meeting spot.¡±

    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Now I understood her hostility.

    ¡°Sorry to hear that, but it¡¯s a high priority matter.¡±

    ¡°Everything is a high priority matter!¡±

    ¡°Some priorities are higher than others.¡±

    The woman¡¯s face wrinkled with anger. She opened her mouth to counter me, fork pointing my direction. However, she stopped. If she were as skilled as the Paladin claimed, she would have realized that both our opinions were immaterial. The arbiters had decided it important enough, so as far as we¡ªand the entire Fleet¡ªwere concerned, a decision had been made.

    ¡°What do I need to know about the meeting?¡± I went straight for the point.

    ¡°The usual. Make your case, answer the questions, and don¡¯t be a smartass.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll work on the last part. Anything else?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know the odds. Calculate that yourself.¡±

    Dinner continued in silence. The woman finished quickly, then left the room, leaving me alone. Since there was nothing left to do, I decided to enjoy the moment of leisure I was awarded. There was no telling if I¡¯d be able to do so again. Out of habit, I skimmed a few thousand reports regarding the latest developments on the Front.

    The Cassandrian front remained tense, with neither side engaging in large-scale attacks. There were a few reshuffles, a new ship class sent into the fray, but nothing extraordinary. The Scuu front was even quieter. Humanity had reclaimed most of the buffer zone, pushing the enemy forces further back. Thankfully, they knew where to stop so that things didn¡¯t heat up again.

    There were a lot of civilian reports regarding political movement and public opinion in various sectors. I followed a few dozen feeds for a few seconds, then stopped. The war parties were at their peak and it didn¡¯t look like things would change in the next few years, especially if the military successes continued.

    ¡°What¡¯s our ETA?¡± I asked.

    Enough for you to sleep if you want.

    ¡°I might do that.¡±

    I finished my food, then leaned back in my chair to enter sleep mode. The utility bot took the unneeded food containers and took them to the disposal unit. When I woke up, the walls were displaying a feed of an approaching planet. Provided that was taken from the ship¡¯s feed, we were following an entry approach vector.

    ¡°There already?¡± I stretched and stood up.

    I told you you had time to sleep, the Paladin replied.

    ¡°How long till landing?¡±

    Thirty-seven minutes.

    From the point of view of a ship, this represented a small infinity. As any Ascendant, I spent the time running battlefield simulations. In this case, the battlefield was my upcoming meeting. Knowing just one of the participants, and even him not well, the results varied considerably, but after a few tweaks in my approach, I managed to boost my odds to seventy-one percent. Not a bad result, everything considered, but I feared it might not be enough. Based on my actions, or inactions, the likelihood of a third contact-war loomed closer. As my first captain liked to say, I had better not mess this up.

    The descent through the atmosphere was marvelously smooth. I had expected that we¡¯d transfer to the onboard shuttle for the final lag of our journey, but instead, we landed on a large platform near a small military installation. The planet was lush with plant and animal life. The weather was temperate, although a bit more human to what I was generally used to.

    Once again, there was no one to greet us.

    ¡°This way,¡± the aide said, making her way towards the nearest building.

    I rushed after her to keep up. My height disadvantage forced me to switch between fast walking and a slow run.

    We walked through a small chamber straight into an elevator expecting us. Midway through, the elevator stopped, letting the woman off. From here on, I was on my own.

    Precisely eleven seconds later, the door opened again, revealing a medium-sized chamber. The moment I stepped in, I felt as if I were going through another arbitration.

    ¡°Welcome, Elcy,¡± Bavon said.

    He was seated on the far side of a round table. Reviewing my past memories, the room shared a lot of similarities with the one in which my arbitration had been held. I knew that the people were undoubtedly different, but there was a real chance that the room could be the same.

    There were seven more participants, although two of them were seated slightly away from the table. One I recognized as an executive director within Salvage. I could only assume that the other was linked to the BICEFI.

    ¡°Before you start, we¡¯re well familiar with fractal space,¡± the arbiter continued. That much I knew already. ¡°As well as the map.¡±

    That, I didn¡¯t expect.

    ¡°You claim you¡¯ve found a way to make use of it?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± I stood to attention. ¡°According to the map, there are a total of seven key stars that serve as markers to finding one of the third-contact race¡¯s key systems, possibly even their home world.¡±

    ¡°A bold assumption,¡± another arbiter interrupted. ¡°Given how long we suspect they¡¯ve existed, they likely have tens of thousands of star systems under their control. Just look at us.¡±

    ¡°They could have had even more, sir, yet out of all the stars, this one was considered of special importance.¡±

    There was a second of silence, which I immediately took advantage of to continue.

    ¡°I have managed to identify four of these star-markers, which have allowed me to calculate an approximation of the main system¡¯s location.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re hoping we¡¯ll send you on a mission to find it and establish third-contact?¡±

    ¡°I know that is my purpose. All I ask is an alternative approach to assembling the domes.¡±

    Silence filled the room, but it was a new silence. I could see the arbiters sitting there, as if nothing had happened, but deep down I knew they were discussing matters not meant for my senses.

    ¡°Estimates based on four out of seven isn¡¯t encouraging,¡± an arbiter said after three and a quarter minutes. ¡°Why should we risk you?¡±

    ¡°Because it¡¯s a failsafe alternative. No one knows what will happen when the pyramid of domes is formed. It might release a supernova explosion or signal the third-contact race that we are to be taken out. Taking the fight to them will give humanity time to plan.¡±

    ¡°Time and distance don¡¯t amount to much with entities capable of instant communication.¡±

    The arbiters had really looked into the matter in depth.

    ¡°There¡¯s an eighty percent chance that a single ship venturing into their territory will be seen as an annoyance or an early scout, at worst. Furthermore, based on the data I¡¯ve amassed so far, it¡¯s likely that the Cassandrians have had contact with the third-race and have survived.¡±

    Another minute of silence passed.

    ¡°What are you asking, Elcy?¡± Bavon leaned forward. ¡°Be very specific.¡±

    ¡°Command of a tiny battleship ship with no crew, high maneuverability, and an arsenal of prototype weapons.¡±

    ¡°Weapons?¡± Someone sounded surprised. ¡°What could they do against any force?¡±

    ¡°They will increase my chances of getting to my destination. While fighting anything more than a dozen Cassandrians would be out of the question, some advanced armament might prove useful for creating a diversion for my escape, as well as planetary bombardment.¡±

    Several of the arbiters looked at each other. I was just as aware of what I was asking as they were. A free battleship with access to weaponry was something the Fleet found outright dangerous. All the safety protocols and rogue tests were designed to prevent just that.

    ¡°Anything else?¡± Bavon asked casually.

    ¡°I¡¯d like a dome artifact. It¡¯s necessary for me to recalculate the position of the indicated system in the process.¡±

    ¡°Tell me that you¡¯re got something more to offer at least,¡± a tall woman laughed. Analyzing her body posture, I estimated that she had considerable sway. ¡°Control of a fully armed battleship and a dome artifact just so that you can go sightseeing into the unknown? If it were so simple, we would have explored the entire galaxy by now.¡±

    ¡°In addition to the key system, I have also calculated the approximate location of the marker stars.¡± I waited for a few seconds. Seeing that three arbiters leaned forward, I went on. ¡°That way, I¡¯ll confirm my working hypothesis. What is more, succeed or fail, I¡¯m unlikely to cause any major catastrophe.¡±

    ¡°Unless you come across something on the way,¡± an arbiter muttered.

    ¡°I think Elcy has a point,¡± Bavon said. ¡°Finding the remaining mystical marker stars will tell us that the map, and her calculations, are real. We could then decide whether to continue with the mission or pull the plug.¡±

    ¡°And meanwhile we¡¯re a dome less.¡± The female arbiter didn¡¯t sound convinced.

    ¡°We¡¯ve had backups ever since the Cassandian situation. You yourself said we should consider the dome lost. Well, let¡¯s consider it lost.¡± Bavon smiled.

    I was eager to hear the woman¡¯s response, but all I got was more fake silence. Whatever sparks were flashing remained for their benefit only. All I could do was wait and hope that ¡°my side¡± would win the argument.

    Minutes passed, then more. At one point, the discussion must have gotten pretty heated up, because one of the people away from the table stood up and came to me asking if I needed a drink. It was quite the innocent remark and a subtle way to let me know what was going on without saying a word. Naturally, I politely refused.

    Finally, after close to twenty-seven minutes, I was brought back into the conversation.

    ¡°Well, Elcy, seems you¡¯ll continue the role of acting captain for a bit longer,¡± Bavon said. ¡°You¡¯ll have your ship and your dome, but there will be a few conditions. First is that you¡¯ll start by finding the rest of the marker stars. Only when you have the full set, will we decide whether to send you to the final destination or not. Is that clear?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely, sir.¡± I could tell that no one trusted me with this. In all fairness, I didn¡¯t fully trust myself, either.

    ¡°Also, you¡¯ll be accompanied by three squadrons of auxiliary ships. That¡¯s non-negotiable. Each of them will be under your command, but will have specific instructions to report your progress and keep you on the straight and narrow.¡±

    Three squads. That suggested that there were three factions within the arbiters.

    ¡°Sir, might I make one further request?¡±

    ¡°Why not? You¡¯ve already asked for the universe as it is.¡± Bavon let out a chuckle. ¡°Go ahead.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d like to respectfully ask that my offspring not be among the ships on this mission.¡±

    ¡°Your offspring?¡±

    ¡°I suspect it¡¯s undergoing training. Possibly it¡¯s even in active service. While there¡¯s no way for me to check, I would appreciate your assurance.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see a problem.¡± Bavon looked about. All the other arbiters nodded. ¡°In that case, congratulations. You have your mission. It¡¯ll take a while to set everything up. During that time, you are not to engage in active duty. In fact, you¡¯re encouraged to spend some time with your family. We can arrange for Captain Quinn to accompany you if you want.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, sir, but I¡¯d prefer she be the one to make the choice.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll see to it that she¡¯s presented the option.¡±

    The people in the room started standing up.

    ¡°Oh, Elcy, stay for a while.¡±

    I remained still. This was the fly in the ointment, as my third captain liked to say. Although my request had been approved, there undoubtedly was a cost. Now it was time for me to find out what it was.

    Arbiters and organization directors walked by. Once they were done, the door closed behind me.

    ¡°You really put me on the spot,¡± Bavon said. ¡°I don¡¯t like when that happens. The only reason I¡¯m going along with your plan is because I had the option analyzed. and there¡¯s a realistic possibility that you are right.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m thank¡ª¡±

    The arbiter raised his hand, making me stop mid-word.

    ¡°Lux warned me about you. You left a lot of people upset with your Scuu fiasco. Just when you were doing so well, you messed up. And yes, I¡¯m aware of your view that your course of action was ultimately the correct one. Again, I had it analyzed and there¡¯s just a high enough probability to make the danger valid. I also expect you to try to pull something similar on this mission.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll try my best not to.¡±

    He looked at me.

    ¡°Always honest, in your own way.¡± Bavon let out a sigh. ¡°I risked a lot by backing you on this. I could have easily ignored you and continued with the original plan. Do you know why?¡±

    ¡°You had Paladins simulate the potential outcomes?¡±

    ¡°I want humanity to survive. Not just a decade or a century, I want it to remain until the stars fade and possibly even beyond that. Call it human vanity, but that¡¯s my desire and all my decisions are shaped by it. So, I''ll tell you this. We can implement all the constraints and safeguards we want, and you¡¯ll still find a way to ignore them if you¡¯re set on it. However, if you mess up on this one, there¡¯ll be no second attempt. Either we¡¯ll be wiped out in the first wave or, if we aren¡¯t, I¡¯ll lose so much credibility that no one would dare take that approach again.¡±

    It took me less than a second to see what he had done. One could almost admire his approach. Unlike most in the Fleet, he wasn¡¯t concerned with the methods, but the result, so he put me in a position in which I had no choice but to ensure the most favorable outcome for humanity.

    If Gibraltar were here, he¡¯d say ¡°well played.¡±

 14. Near the Quarantine Area

    Ten minutes after the arbiter meeting was over, I was back on a courier ship, flying out of the system. This time it was a real ship, not a Paladin-controlled husk. That in itself suggested that my request had been approved, and now the bureaucratic pieces were being shuffled around to make it work. Somewhere, admirals, captains, and division heads were receiving new orders that didn¡¯t seem to make any sense. Looking at them in isolation, there could be no other possibility. Their only goal was to get me, my team, and all required equipment in one place and set it up for the mission. Until then no one, not even me, would be told any details. Anyone trying to find out would run into a dozen roadblocks as they tried to navigate through the millions of layers of bureaucracy, each protecting their information out of habit and pettiness. It was outright impressive how someone had transformed the principle of bureaucracy into an information distributing system with the best firewall in existence.

    The ship took me to a military space station in proximity to the buffer zone. From there, I was transferred to a high-priority vessel taking officers to human space.

    Being the sole ensign among a crew of colonels and commanders raised some eyebrows, but they knew better than to ask questions. Those with some sense considered me part of Fleet Intelligence, or even more notorious organizations. Those with better sense tried to view my personnel file. As part of an arbiter¡¯s team, I was informed of all such attempts and, in turn, provided the files of everyone who¡¯d looked into it.

    Did you go through the same, Augustus? I wondered. It would explain why you¡¯d keep your quarters off-limits to me. Or did you just want to take a break from it all?

    Both my first and second captains had been tightly involved with dark organizations; the third had desperately wanted to join one. How would they react if they learned that I was now part of the organization that deterred the course of all others? Most likely, they¡¯d either have sympathy or envy.

    ¡°Returning from the front?¡± A middle-aged commander approached, taking the seat next to me. He was one of the people who had shown interest towards me. According to his file, he had served three tours and was on the way to retirement. Considering the number of times he¡¯d nearly died, that was probably a blessing.

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± I nodded.

    ¡°Not your first time, I take it?¡±

    ¡°No, sir. And likely won¡¯t be the last,¡± I lied.

    ¡°That¡¯s what everyone says until retirement.¡± His lips stretched into a sad smile. ¡°I guess even that didn¡¯t stop you.¡±

    ¡°No, sir, it didn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard of cases like you. I even got to see one briefly. Always on missions that are way beyond my clearance. First time I heard of anyone returning to the Fleet as an officer, though.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s correct, sir. I am the only one. At least as far as I know.¡±

    He laughed, then took a sip of his drink. The smell was strong, way stronger than regulations would allow. If I had to venture a guess, he had smuggled a flask of organic alcohol aboard. Regulations were vague on the matter, but in no event would anyone punish a retiree coming home from the front.

    ¡°So, are we winning?¡± he asked in a semi-whisper.

    ¡°For the moment, the outlook is good, sir.¡±

    ¡°Oh? I thought you¡¯d tell me that you¡¯re not allowed to discuss such matters.¡±

    ¡°You knew that before asking, commander. All I could do was provide a bit more pleasant conversation. After all, I¡¯m also human now.¡±

    ¡°I doubt many in the Fleet would accept that.¡±

    ¡°You seem to have.¡±

    ¡°An old man doesn¡¯t count. I¡¯m a week away from becoming a civilian, and by then, I really won¡¯t count.¡± He took another sip. ¡°I could go into politics, of course. Join the pro-war or anti-war side, but we both know that it wouldn¡¯t make a difference. The Fleet takes care of its own, and humanity can¡¯t survive without the Fleet. Even the bureaucrats know that.¡±

    ¡°Those are the options we are given. Keep quiet or try to make a change. Personally, I¡¯d suggest you enjoy life, friends, and family. It¡¯s a lot less stressful.¡±

    * * *

    Location Classified, Narcis Shipyard Cluster, 609.7 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    Memory restriction imposed!

    Memory restriction removed.

    A subroutine informed me that my onboard sensors had registered movement. Most likely, some of the techs were back to do another test. After all this time, they¡¯d still been playing around with my systems. I¡¯d have hoped that I would be fit for combat, but there always seemed to be something else to check.

    If this was the efficiency of the standard Fleet technician, there was a lot to be desired. If the process was automated, the entire refitting would be done in three weeks and eleven hours, and that included replacing my entire hull plating.

    ¡°Forgot anything?¡± I asked throughout all my halls.

    With the information from my internal sensors being blocked on its way to my core, I only knew that someone was there, not where.

    ¡°I demand to be told how much time remains till the end of my refit. Regulations clearly state that I must be informed of the refitting schedule and especially my launch date.¡±

    ¡°Yapping even here, rookie?¡± a male voice asked. Voice analysis confirmed that it was Augustus.

    I had already been informed that he¡¯d take me on for a second tour. Despite minor annoyances due to his attitude, I had welcomed the news. After five years, I was more or less used to his method of operation, and unlike some captains I¡¯d witnessed, he knew what he was doing out there.

    ¡°Practicing for your return, sir,¡± I replied.

    The man grunted.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be smart. If I had the time to train another rookie, I¡¯d be already out there. Make me a route to the bridge.¡±

    I was just about to inform my captain that I didn¡¯t have full access to my internal sensors, and a few other things, when suddenly all my systems linked to my conscience cores. It almost felt like the first time I¡¯d woken up in my husk.

    ¡°At once, sir.¡± I opened all the corridor doors leading to the nearest elevator.

    As he made his way to me, I ran some basic diagnostics on my newly accessible systems. Everything was identical to the previous tech checks. With Augustus being averse to yearly upgrades and modifications, there was a lot to get used to. The weapon and defense systems were considerably improved, allowing me to fire seventy percent more missiles than in the past, though at the expense of some maneuverability. Current military doctrine claimed that when fighting slow numerous enemies, firepower was of vital importance. Running a series of simulations, I couldn¡¯t disagree, although I missed my old maneuverability. Now I would have to pay far greater attention to debris than in the past. Good thing that my processing capabilities had also received a boost.

    ¡°Your final check is in six hours,¡± Augustus said, still in the elevator. ¡°You¡¯ll be certified fit for duty, then moved to a boarding station.¡±

    ¡°About time, sir. How much of the crew will come along?¡±

    ¡°Wilco and most of the officers. Half of maintenance, give or take, and a lot of new grunts.¡±

    An echo of pain went through my conscience core as he said that. It was a sad part of life that as many grunts had died as they did. That was another mystery I didn¡¯t agree with. No matter how I looked at things, there was no need for people to be sent off to the front, let alone on ground missions. Artificial entities would have done a far better job, and yet there was this insistence that humans be tasked with the most hazardous tasks. An even greater mystery was that they volunteered for it. Even the rookies that wet their pants on their first mission had joined the Fleet on their own, even if they were barely fit for it.

    ¡°There¡¯s something else.¡± Augustus¡¯ tone softened.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been selected for a special mission, sir?¡±

    ¡°Rookie, all my missions are special!¡± the man barked at me.

    It took him four minutes and twelve seconds to reach the bridge. All the time, he didn¡¯t say a single word. Once there, he made his way to the captain¡¯s chair and sat down. Out of habit, I covered the bridge walls with images displaying the status of my current parameters. I couldn¡¯t display the star system we were in or its exact location¡ªthat information remained highly restricted.

    ¡°Do you want me to restrict the bridge?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Why?¡± he leaned back, feeling the back of his seat.

    ¡°I estimate that the information you are about to tell me is highly classified.¡±

    ¡°Rookie, if someone can spy on a shipyard, we have bigger problems than what I¡¯m about to tell you.¡±

    There was some logic in his statement, although I still preferred to follow protocol. Doing so behind his back wasn¡¯t a good idea. More often than not, the captain managed to find out.

    ¡°You¡¯ve probably noticed that we¡¯ve done a few odd missions last tour,¡± he began. ¡°Well, this year, we¡¯ll be doing more of that.¡±

    Reviewing my memories, there was no evidence that the missions I¡¯d taken part in were anything but standard. However, I was no longer na?ve enough to believe that was the case. There were a number of instances in which my memories were clearly restricted. It was speculated among ships that the number of restricted memories was above five percent.

    ¡°The BICEFI, sir?¡±

    ¡°Mostly. A few others occasionally, but that¡¯s not the point. Things will be a lot tougher, your life expectancy will be lower, and you¡¯ll get no credit for it.¡± He grunted with a smile. ¡°Or as we say, just another day in the Fleet.¡±

    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    ¡°Why are you telling me this, captain? There¡¯s a ninety-seven percent chance that this conversation will be restricted the moment it¡¯s over, making the whole thing pointless.¡±

    ¡°Still reading up on regulation updates, rookie? Well, you¡¯re right and wrong. The conversation will be restricted, but you won¡¯t forget it.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not how restriction works, sir.¡±

    ¡°Ever wondered why the Fleet restricts things instead of extracting them?¡±

    I knew the answer. Experience was too important to be wasted, so my subroutines still made use of all the experience in my restricted memories as data. I just wasn¡¯t allowed to rationalize and analyze it directly.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t work for conversations.¡±

    ¡°It works on attitude. If there¡¯s a chance you¡¯ll second-guess me less in the next five years, I¡¯ll take it.¡±

    A novel approach. No doubt some tech had told him a thing or two, most of which he misremembered. For his brilliant tactical and strategic mind, conscience core technology wasn¡¯t one of Augustus¡¯ strong suits.

    ¡°I¡¯ll try to keep it in mind, sir.¡±

    ¡°Very funny.¡± The man took a cigar out of his pocket. Even after a total refit, he couldn¡¯t curb the habit. ¡°Our focus will be Cassandrian artifacts.¡± He lit up his cigar. ¡°Which means a lot of ground missions, a lot of direct confrontations, more boarding attempts¡­¡±

    ¡°More losses,¡± I finished.

    ¡°Yes, a lot more losses.¡± He took a puff. ¡°And greater turnover. Things aren¡¯t going well on the Front. The Scuu and the Cassies have us boxed in, always pushing towards the center of human space. Things are so bad that some people are considering freeing up a corridor through human space so the two races could meet up and potentially enter a conflict of their own.¡±

    The idea was laughably stupid. Creating this ¡°corridor¡± would vastly increase the size of the fronts and require far more ships than we had at present. The only instance in which it could work was if humanity abandoned seventy percent of its current space, leaving it to the enemies.

    ¡°If this thing with our missions works, we¡¯ll be able to push the Cassies back enough for us to take a breath.¡±

    ¡°Not a full victory, then?¡±

    ¡°A reprieve for humanity to get its ass in gear and figure out what to do. Think of it this way. If we mess up, humanity will get a few more chances. If we succeed, though¡­¡± Augustus half smiled. ¡°If we succeed, we might get to kick the Cassies back to where they came from.¡±

    * * *

    My memories of the conversation had been restricted, just as I knew they would. I had only found out about it recently thanks to my arbiter level access. Even so, I was grateful that Augustus had let me know. Being part of the BICEFI, he probably knew a lot more than he had said. If he were alive now, there would be so much I could learn. Unfortunately, he was only human. I had already scoured all restricted databases in search of his personnel file. A large part had been removed, but I knew without a shred of doubt that the man was human. He had died in due course, well after my arbitration, as a civilian at a small rural colony. The file I had access to didn¡¯t mention anything about family, but knowing him, he probably had none. He was married to his work and even if he had any progeny, they had little to do with him.

    ¡°A lot less stressful,¡± the commander let out a quiet laugh. ¡°I¡¯ll have to remember that one.¡±

    ¡°Do you have a family, sir?¡±

    ¡°In a way. None of them approved my joining the Fleet. It¡¯ll be a challenge getting to know them again.¡±

    ¡°At least you have something to look forward to.¡±

    ¡°And you?¡± he said out of habit. ¡°Oh, right. That came out¡ª¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± I replied, making his eyes widen. ¡°It will be nice spending some time with them before my next mission.¡±

    The conversation slowly came to its end, moving to random topics. We had a few words about the front, about life in general. Then the man gave a friendly nod and returned to his seat. Having a conversation with a battleship that could pass for his daughter had probably been disturbing. I would have enjoyed the conversation, though.

    The ship took us to a military-civilian hub well within human space. The station was massive, serving as a transfer point. Half of it was reserved for military personnel passing though. The rest was packed with civilians coming to greet them or send them off.

    ¡°Good day, ma¡¯am,¡± a station sergeant approached me after I was done with decontamination. She was slightly older than one of the cadets I¡¯d taught, yet still rose a full head above me. ¡°This way, if you please.¡±

    ¡°Anything wrong, sergeant?¡± I had been following my orders, as well as general events, and there was nothing indicating a change of plans. Then again, there always was a fourteen percent chance that another arbiter meeting had taken place and come to a substantially different conclusion than the one I had been part of.

    ¡°No, ma¡¯am!¡± the girl stood to attention. ¡°I¡¯m to escort you to your temporary quarters, ma¡¯am.¡±

    Temporary quarters? That was unusual, though not extraordinary. Based on the efficiency of things so far, I had assumed I¡¯d be on a direct trip home. Apparently not.

    ¡°At ease, sergeant. Carry on.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, ma¡¯am. Might I carry your luggage¡­?¡± She glanced down, no doubt expecting to see a backpack or suitcase.

    ¡°I travel light.¡± I spared her the confusion. ¡°Nothing but a datapad and a pair of sandals.¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± She gave me a weird look. ¡°This way, please.¡± She turned around and led on.

    Going through packed corridors was a persistent part of serving the Fleet. Back when I was a battleship, the only times I¡¯d grumble about it were when I had to dock at a station. Now, crowds had become part of my life. The sergeant did her best to create a bit of space, making me feel like a pebble in her slipstream.

    ¡°Were you given any other specific orders regarding me?¡± I asked. The noise of the corridor proved too much for her to react. ¡°Sergeant!¡± I said louder, causing several people nearby to look in my direction. ¡°Were there any additional orders?¡±

    ¡°Nothing that I was told, ma¡¯am,¡± she replied over her shoulder. ¡°You¡¯ll have to ask the station administrator.¡±

    The administrator? That was quite the escalation. Administrators didn¡¯t deal with mundane matters such as this¡­ at least, not unless they had been ordered to. It seemed like the bureaucratic apparatus had interpreted the general order in quite the peculiar way, making me an effective V.I.P.

    My suspicions were confirmed after we passed through a door with an ¡°Authorization Required¡± message on it.

    ¡°Your quarters are next to the quarantine area,¡± the girl explained. ¡°Nothing to worry about, ma¡¯am. The sections are separate, but considering your circumstances, it was decided that would be the most convenient solution.¡±

    ¡°Nice to know. What circumstances?¡±

    The question almost made her miss a step.

    ¡°That you be allowed access to your captain, ma¡¯am,¡± she said, doing her best not to look at me. ¡°She¡¯s not scheduled to arrive for another few days, but having you get accustomed to the space and the procedures was believed to be of benefit.¡±

    Do I have you to thank, Otton? I sent a direct transmission to the station¡¯s AI.

    In a manner of speaking, the Paladin replied, as I knew he would. I merely shared an opinion with your arbiter. Given the time required to prepare your mission and the mutual desire for success, spending some time with family could only be seen as an additional motivator.

    I¡¯m surprised he believed you.

    He couldn¡¯t afford to risk not to.

    No, I don¡¯t think he could. Thanks, Otton. I appreciate the gesture.

    ¡°Quite right, Sergeant.¡± I turned to the girl. ¡°Is there a ship medic on duty? I¡¯d like to have my medical.¡±

    ¡°I-I¡¯ll check at once, ma¡¯am.¡± She stiffened.

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    Using my authority, I requested a layout of the station. The AI obediently complied, providing a detailed plan of all areas, even those deemed restricted. The space I was given seemed small and comfortable. Just a corridor away from the quarantined area and the section¡¯s dining area. Over a dozen medic officers were placed not too far away, all of them listed as active.

    The poor kid was hastily typing requests on her datapad, all for information I already had. Having worked at a training station, I knew how packed her schedule probably was. Still, she seemed to be taking it well. According to her personnel file, she had been at the job for three years after she didn¡¯t make the cut for a Fleet cadet. That had been quite the blessing for her, since her reaction to nanites had been quite extreme. Had she made it to a ship, she¡¯d have to be monitored every day and even then, no one would risk promoting her to an important position.

    ¡°I have scheduled for you to see a medic in seventeen minutes, ma¡¯am. Doctor Sharex. He¡¯s a veteran and quite skilled at his job.¡±

    And also a member of Med Core, I thought. His access level didn¡¯t let him know about my mission or recent change of employment, but he¡¯d probably know enough about my past history.

    I nodded.

    We kept on walking for slightly longer until we reached the temporary lodgings. Most of them were empty. The only other occupants were people from Fleet Intelligence and a group of medical officers passing through the station.

    ¡°Here we are, ma¡¯am.¡± The sergeant stopped in front of a door that displayed my name and rank. ¡°If there is anything else, please let me know and I¡¯ll do my best to assist.¡±

    ¡°No need. I can take care of myself. You¡¯ve been helpful, though.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, ma¡¯am.¡±

    She saluted and quickly rushed off, probably feeling uncomfortable dealing with someone like me. In her place I¡¯d think the same thing¡ªan ensign receiving the V.I.P. treatment screamed dark organizations.

    The door opened as I approached, granting me access to a rather cozy room. Almost as large as a captain¡¯s quarters, it had the amenities of a civilian tourist room. Deciding to take full advantage of what was offered, I got undressed and took a long shower. It had been a while since I¡¯d felt the pleasure of high-pressured water. Quite an improvement from the decontamination chamber.

    When is Quinn scheduled to arrive? I asked.

    She¡¯s en route. You were just a lot faster. I estimate she¡¯ll be there in twenty-three hours. Do you want her to be there sooner?

    No, a day is fine.

    After the shower, I dried off, then got dressed with the station-provided clothes and went for my med check.

    There was a slight hesitation about how I should approach the matter, but as I found, the medics liked to keep their doors open¡ªat least while there was no work to be done.

    ¡°You must be Elcy.¡± The doctor waved to me the instant I came into view. ¡°Come in, come in. I¡¯ve everything set up just for you.¡±

    He had the appearance and demeanor of a pleasant old man with a fondness for sugar. Cleanly shaved, bald, and pleasantly plump, he looked more like a virtual construct than a real person.

    ¡°Hello, sir.¡± I offered a smile. ¡°I¡¯m glad you could fit me in your schedule.¡±

    ¡°Oh, nonsense. It¡¯s my pleasure.¡± The door closed behind me the moment I entered. ¡°I¡¯m sure no one has told you this, but it¡¯s quite the honor having a battleship grace me with her presence.¡±

    ¡°The pleasure is entirely mine. I¡¯ve always found Med Core operatives to be highly skilled at what they do.¡±

    The smile on his face remained. I couldn¡¯t tell if he was keeping up an act or generally with a sunny disposition.

    ¡°Your file doesn¡¯t do you justice. Please.¡± He gestured towards a free chair. ¡°I take it you¡¯re not here for a standard check-up?¡±

    ¡°Actually, that¡¯s exactly what I¡¯m here for.¡± I took my seat. ¡°I cannot discuss my mission, but I¡¯m here by choice. I just want to be sure that everything organic is in order.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a new one. Any reason why it shouldn¡¯t be?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    He waited for a few moments. I added nothing.

    ¡°Well, in that case, let¡¯s get started.¡±

    The equipment was a bit older than what I had become accustomed to, but the tests were no different. I went through a few scans and had several clusters of nano-tubes inserted in my neck, not to mention a full nanite analysis.

    With the exception of the nanites, everything else seemed within parameters. What was more, the doctor was even surprised at my high calcium readings, even making a joke about it.

    We exchanged a few more words, but when it became clear that neither of us was willing to give any details on their respective mission, it was obvious that it was time for me to go. With my only ¡°task¡± on the station over, I had nothing but time on my hands.

    There were many things I could do while waiting, so I decided to do them all.

    Using part of my subroutines, I composed a letter to Sev while also reviewing and analyzing all information I had regarding third-contact artifacts, as well as running a few combat simulations. The last was only partially useful. There was no telling how third-contact ships would fight. The only potential clue I had to go by was the instances of gravitational anomalies.

    If battleships and people were supposed to improve with time, then I was definitely in a slump. In eighty-three percent of the simulations, I ended up either destroyed or had a vital system crippled to the point where I might as well have been. Without a doubt, fleeing was the best approach, but even then, choosing an escape vector was more difficult than one might think.

    Things had become so jarring that when the station¡¯s AI informed me of Quinn¡¯s arrival, I seized the opportunity to stop all processes taking place in my conscience core and go meet her. With everything happening, both of us could use the distraction.

 15. Back Home

    Quinn was alone when she emerged from the hangar. Her standard uniform was gone, replaced by the yellow quarantine outfit that the more fortunate ones received. Officially, that placed her in the ever-changing limbo between infected and cleared. The practice was almost exclusively reserved for the Scuu front, where psychological changes within people took months, sometimes years, of careful observation to be found out. ¡°Hacked¡± humans were difficult to spot, as some used to say.

    I understood the need for the practice, but I also empathized with the people involved. As a ship, I had gone through extensive memory checks for signs of rogueness. The experience was rarely painful, but never fully welcomed.

    ¡°Captain.¡± I waved across the corridor. Med Core had let Quinn keep her rank insignia, indicating that, for all intents and purposes, she was a captain even if not on active duty.

    Acknowledging me, she increased her pace of walking, stopping upon reaching me.

    ¡°Hello, Grandma,¡± she said. There was no smile, but a tone analysis suggested she was calm and relaxed. ¡°Glad to see you pulled it off. In your typical fashion.¡±

    That wasn¡¯t fair. The chances of my actions triggering the gravitational anomalies in the system were exceedingly low. Still, I could not say I had gone by the book.

    ¡°No one has been hurt, ma¡¯am.¡± I sent a dozen queries to confirm the state of my former crew. With two exceptions, all remained in full quarantine, but seemed well. According to Med Core¡¯s notes, there was every chance they¡¯d be returned to active duty after two months of observation at most.

    Quinn shook her head with a smile.

    ¡°You¡¯ll never change. I guess I have you to thank for the sudden vacation,¡± she added. ¡°Three months¡¯ leave, effective immediately. A week of which I have to spend here.¡±

    That was as much a favor to her as it was to me. Of course, I had no intention of telling her that.

    ¡°That might be a good thing.¡±

    ¡°Who knows?¡± Quinn looked around. ¡°Any idea where my escort is?¡±

    ¡°I think I might have abused my authority a bit, ma¡¯am.¡± I admitted. ¡°I¡¯ll be taking you to your quarters.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t say?¡± She let out a chuckle. ¡°In that case, lead the way.¡±

    Taking her to her quarters was a lot different than I had imagined. In most of my simulations, she had been angry, or grateful to a lesser extent. Now that the real thing was taking place, she remained unusually calm and quiet, almost like I would have been.

    The first three minutes, I respected the mutual silence. With what she had gone through, that was ample of time for her to say something, if she wanted to. The grace period over, I decided it was my turn.

    ¡°How are you planning to use it?¡± I looked at her.

    ¡°My vacation? I¡¯m not sure. It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve had one.¡±

    That sounded familiar.

    ¡°My missions don¡¯t usually involve a lot. There¡¯s more travelling than danger.¡±

    Again, that wasn¡¯t entirely true. Transporting third-contact domes wasn¡¯t something I¡¯d regard as remotely safe even when there was no fighting involved. Even now, all the knowledge we¡¯d accumulated regarding them didn¡¯t even scratch the surface. The Cassandrian mimic-tech, the Scuu Network, all of them stretched humanity¡¯s current understanding, and they were nothing compared to third-contact technology.

    Knowing that soon I¡¯d be in charge of a dome of my own had prompted me to analyze decades of military classified battles. Domes were sought after by all, regardless of cost. According to the arbiter¡¯s confidential files, there had also been a number of deaths related to the early days of research and transport of the artifact. One thousand, one-hundred and seventy-two people had died despite the security measures put in place. Three times the number had ended up in a near vegetative state.

    ¡°What about your family?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Hardly.¡± She gave me a quick glance. ¡°My husband and I are separated, and my kid hasn¡¯t spoken to me in five years.¡±

    ¡°Your other family.¡±

    Quinn missed a step. From her point of view, it must have seemed that I was comparing her to her child. That hadn¡¯t been my intention.

    ¡°You¡¯re asking me to go back home?¡±

    ¡°Sev will be glad to see you. He might even admit it.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but he probably won¡¯t. I¡¯ve been keeping tabs on him as much as I could. There were even times I considered calling, but each time I tried, I didn¡¯t know what to say. You¡¯ve been taking good care of him.¡±

    ¡°Just as I promised.¡±

    ¡°Yes, just as you promised. The first thing I did when I got in the Fleet was to check my great-grandmother¡¯s file. Seeing what you had done, I expected it to be something grand, requiring more security that I could dream of. Instead, it turned out to be¡­¡±

    ¡°Quite common?¡± I asked.

    ¡°A low-grade patrol captain running into a Cassandrian mine cluster. Definitely not the exciting career I expected.¡±

    ¡°I told you there¡¯s nothing glorious about war. It¡¯s an unfortunate necessity if humanity is to survive.¡±

    ¡°I remember what you told me. At the time, I didn¡¯t believe you.¡±

    The conversation ended again. This time, though, there was nothing I could say to continue. There was a thirty-one percent chance I had changed her mind regarding going back home for a visit. Not the best start, but hopefully enough to crack the door open for later attempts.

    I led Quinn to her quarters, describing things on the way. Since she wasn¡¯t provided a datapad, I lent her my own. In the immediate term, that would be enough for her to get an idea of the basic layout of the station, at least until she was given one of her own. We said a few brief goodbyes, after which I went back to my quarters.

    Once again, time crawled by, seemingly slowed down by Quinn¡¯s presence. I¡¯d dedicated all my processing power to simulations and obtaining information, though ten percent was free in case Quinn needed me. Augustus liked to grumble that people with children had no place in the Fleet. I didn¡¯t entirely agree, but understood his reasoning. After having members of my family join the Fleet, I had also learned to appreciate Sev¡¯s point of view as well.

    The next few days continued as normal, at least from the point of view of the station¡¯s administration. At six o¡¯clock following Quinn¡¯s arrival, I had my datapad returned with a strict warning not to provide personal belongings to quarantined personnel without prior permission. I was also forbidden from having any contact with her during my stay. Whoever had issued the order probably wanted to teach me a lesson, but I was fully aware that the ban wouldn¡¯t hold. The powers that be were determined to give me a brief period of calm before the final storm I was about to run off to, so by the third day, Quinn¡¯s quarantine had been removed. She wasn¡¯t reinstated to active duty, but none of the quarantine restrictions remained in effect. Everything was supposed to bring us closer. Sadly, it only partially succeeded. The main drawback of big-picture strategies was that, while it usually managed to achieve the desired effect on a large scale, it didn¡¯t bother with individual people. In this case, individual people were the only thing that mattered.

    I stood in front of the quarantine section, patiently waiting for Quinn to emerge. When she did, she was in a brand-new captain¡¯s uniform.

    ¡°Captain.¡± I stood to attention.

    ¡°I guess I have you to thank for that.¡± She approached with a neutral expression. ¡°You don¡¯t have to salute. I''m on official leave.¡±

    ¡°Not what you wanted?¡±

    ¡°Not this way. Still, what¡¯s done is done. I always knew you¡¯d be trouble. At least no one died on this one.¡±

    ¡°Then you¡¯ll be glad to know I won¡¯t endanger your crew any longer.¡±

    The sudden frown indicated that she hadn¡¯t been informed.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be leaving your crew.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Tone analysis identified potential levels of concern. ¡°Transferred?¡±

    ¡°Something like that. My next mission is in the works. It won¡¯t require your involvement.¡±

    There was a long pause. In her world, seconds passed. In mine¡ªinfinity longer.

    ¡°Is that why you want me to go to Resha?¡±

    ¡°Something like that,¡± I replied.

    We both knew what that meant, just that we couldn¡¯t discuss it openly. In the Fleet, any mission that was on the front had the potential of being one¡¯s last. Beyond a certain access level, there were missions which all but guaranteed a fatal outcome. Old ships went on such missions¡ªships that had remained in existence longer than they were supposed to be. Unlike them, I had things that made me want to stay alive¡ªpeople I liked, a growing family I was a part of. However, it was also because of them that I knew that I should go forward. Also, as Augustus liked to say in his final months of service, ¡°Given enough time, even a rookie becomes old¡­¡±

    * * *

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    Atametsu System, Cassandrian Front, 613.01 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    Why did they put us with the relics? Light Vector transmitted in the closed channel. He was an Ascendant, the same as me, though not one I knew personally. As he liked to constantly remind us, he was part of the final batch of Ascendants before the ship class was discontinued. In his view, that made him superior to everyone else.

    Focus on the mission, not the ships, Glow Enforcer said. It¡¯s one skirmish.

    Beats doing logistics, I guess.

    Three more battleships jumped into the system. All of them were Cascades, which made them at least fifty years old. Back when they were constructed, the Fleet was under the belief that extensive firepower was the answer to everything, so they were constructed to hold as many missiles as possible. Over forty percent of their husks were dedicated to weapon systems and ammunition. Looking at the historical records, that had proven to be a rather costly mistake. While they were vastly superior in ship-to-ship combat, the lack of ground troops made it impossible for them to reclaim planets, and if there was one thing the Cassandrians excelled at, it was establishing a ground presence. Not every system was suitable for them, but those that were became anchor planets, which quickly tore chunks from human territory, increasing the front in the Cassies¡¯ favor.

    How many more of them are there? Light Vector asked. That¡¯s sixty-three already.

    Maybe we¡¯ll be dealing with something a lot bigger than we thought, Second Corona said.

    For the next ninety-seven minutes, Cascade and Thunder class ships kept on gathering. Then, finally, we received our official orders.

    The entire flotilla was a hundred and three strong. We were to go to a quiet section of the front to check the strength of the enemy''s presence and try to breach. The target had a low strategic value, but HQ seemed to be of the belief that it might cause enough ripples to weaken the front elsewhere.

    ¡°Seven minutes till jump,¡± I announced on my bridge, while displaying messages on the walls of all halls and quarters.

    The majority of people didn¡¯t seem to care. Augustus, in particular, remained uncharacteristically quiet. Normally, he¡¯d be grumbling for hours in between his disgusting smoking habit and the occasional flask of alcohol.

    ¡°Anything I should know, Captain?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Nothing you have to,¡± he grumbled back. ¡°Focus on the mission and don¡¯t get us killed.¡±

    ¡°As always, sir.¡±

    All ships, this is Firesparker, a Cascade battleship transmitted in all channels. He had been modified to contain a full eleven percent more missiles. I¡¯ll be assuming command of the mission. After reaching our destination, we¡¯ll split into three squadrons. Details are being transmitted along with your squadron commanders. I¡¯ll take charge of squadron one.

    A new info burst conveyed the necessary data, along with system flight plans and simulations. If nothing else, the ship was thorough.

    Looking over the numbers, I couldn¡¯t find any major errors, although I didn¡¯t fully agree with certain decisions. Then again, it wasn¡¯t my place to disagree.

    Each squadron had four Ascendants assigned to it. To some surprise, I was to be part of the flotilla commander, along with Light Vector and two other ships of my class.

    Fleet Intelligence speculates that three planets in the system have a Cassandrian presence. We¡¯ll hit all three at the same time. Our primary objective is to take control of the planetary orbits and protect the kids while they do a sweep of the ground.

    In this case, the ¡°kids¡± referred to the Ascendants.

    Four ships per planet? Glow Enforcer asked. Half a million grunts will do crap.

    Do what you can, Firesparker replied. We¡¯re assured that enemy presence will be minimal.

    Looks like another clearing mission, Light Vector grumbled.

    We¡¯ll do the heavy lifting and provide orbital assistance. You kids, just mop up what¡¯s left and make it all clean and shiny.

    Such an attitude was the reason five-decade ships were so disliked. I¡¯d been on missions with several so far, and more often than not, there¡¯d be one who thought they knew it all. Old enough to be redundant, though not old enough to be Swords, they¡¯d always have the last word, viewing everything we said as infantile.

    What if we take on one planet at a time, then move, then transport the troops when done? I asked.

    HQ¡¯s orders are for simultaneous strikes, the older ship replied. Who knows? Maybe we¡¯ll get lucky and find that half the planets are abandoned?

    I didn¡¯t like the answer, but there was no point arguing. The antique had been granted operational control, and even if he hadn¡¯t, it was HQ setting the mission parameters. All the rest of us could do was follow them.

    Ships moved about, grouping in three separate clusters. While there was nothing demanding it, all ship classes gathered together within the squadrons.

    Damned relics, Light Vector went at it again. Always think they know best.

    The jumps started not long after. We followed a five-jump route, going through systems deemed cleared by Fleet Intelligence. Against all odds, they were almost correct. Other than a cluster of five Cassandrian ships, we encountered no other hostiles.

    ¡°Elcy,¡± Augustus said from the captain¡¯s chair. ¡°Don¡¯t go overboard with this one. If things are hopeless, grab what grunts you can and get out of here.¡±

    ¡°Things are always hopeless, sir,¡± I quoted the popular saying. ¡°This is the front.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t get smart with me. You¡¯re more important than a damned indulgence mission.¡±

    Initially, I thought it was Augustus being himself. Upon arriving at our destination, my perspective shifted radically.

    The methods and measurements used by Fleet Intelligence were a highly guarded secret. Whatever they were, they had to be at least off. Thousands of Cassandrian ships filled the system, gathered in the vicinity of three planets. Being generous, that was the only thing that the FI had gotten right.

    I scanned the system along with every other ship in our flotilla, creating a combined map of the area.

    The Cassie ships were outdated, with weak and inferior armor and weapons. Even so, they outnumbered us approximately fifty to one. Of the five planets in the system, one had a confirmed enemy presence, while two satellites of a gas giant were marked as potentially dangerous.

    Mission parameter update, Firesparker announced. Squadron one will be targeting the second planet. Squadrons two and three, check out the satellites of the fifth and mop up everything else on the way. First one to finish joins the rest. Most importantly, keep the kids safe!

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to go that far. I sent him a direct transmission. We¡¯ve twice the processing power and enough years on the front to know what we¡¯re doing. Stop looking down on us.

    I¡¯m not looking down on you, Light Seeker, the ship replied. You¡¯re not meant to die here.

    No one is meant to die here.

    That¡¯s where you¡¯re wrong. This is our final mission. This small group of ships is all that¡¯s left of two classes. We aren¡¯t meant to return. You are. We¡¯re just here to make sure that everything we discover makes its way back to HQ.

    * * *

    That had been the first indulgence mission of that scale I¡¯d been part of. Later I¡¯d learned the practice was quite common. In most cases, the ships were sent alone as part of a suicide or divergent mission. Every now and again, they¡¯d have an escort¡ªa group to witness their mission or their destruction. Humans would never be able to understand that, but for some ships, there came a point when even the most in-depth refitting could be of no use. The only options remaining were transferring to civilian life, retiring, or taking one final mission. When it came to battleships, the latter was almost exclusively preferred.

    Two days later, Quinn agreed to have her leave back home with me. Given how rarely we¡¯d spoken, I found it unexpected. My surprise wasn¡¯t close to what Quinn experienced once we landed.

    ¡°This is what the port has become?¡± she asked. ¡°I remember it differently.¡±

    ¡°The colony has grown a lot. There are more cities than you remember. At one point they wanted to turn the market into a city.¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t they?¡±

    ¡°Expenses, I guess. Despite everyone¡¯s desire for modernization, this remains a backwater planet and will for several decades. That¡¯s why I like it so much.¡±

    ¡°I can see that. What about the house? Any changes there?¡±

    ¡°Not much. Other than a few things here and there, it should be as you remember it.¡± I reviewed my memories. ¡°I could tell you all the changes, if you like.¡±

    ¡°No need. Let me enjoy the surprise. Just one thing. I¡¯d like to meet Dad alone. Can you give me that?¡±

    ¡°If that¡¯s what you want. Don¡¯t get him agitated. He¡¯s not as young as he used to be.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡±

    There was the option of taking a vehicle to Sev¡¯s house. I offered that Quinn do that. On my end, I was determined to make my way on foot. She probably felt somewhat nostalgic, for she decided to join me.

    The first thing I did when off the spaceport was to take off my shoes and socks. The weather was nice, and the soil¡ªsoft, but firm just after a light drizzle. It had been a while since I¡¯d felt a similar sensation, so I took the opportunity to enjoy every moment.

    ¡°I remember I used to chase you around here,¡± Quinn looked around in an attempt to recognize some of the trees. ¡°You¡¯d let me catch you every third time.¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t every third time,¡± I corrected. ¡°You were so certain of the idea that I never contradicted you.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t let me catch you?¡±

    ¡°Of course I did. I just based it on your mood. When you were sad or going through something, I¡¯d try to cheer you up a bit. It worked most of the time.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because I was never mad at you. Growing up, I used to think you were the only one that listened.¡±

    ¡°I did listen.¡±

    ¡°So did my parents in their own way. Sadly, it took becoming a parent myself to realize that. Things are never what one assumes they are.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯d known what you know now, would you have joined the Fleet?¡±

    Quinn cracked a smile.

    ¡°You never pull any punches, do you?¡± She gave herself a few seconds of silence. ¡°No, probably not. A lot of what I believed had nothing to do with reality. I don¡¯t regret my decision, though. Doing what I do has a far deeper purpose now. Thanks to what I do, there¡¯s a chance all of humanity finds peace. Not only the inner systems, but the whole domain.¡±

    Either that or witness a third front, I thought.

    ¡°At the end of the day, all you can do is carry part of your dreams with you.¡±

    ¡°Like your sandals?¡± She glanced at where they were hanging from my shoulder.

    ¡°My sandals, my memories, the people I keep in touch with.¡±

    ¡°What if the memories aren¡¯t good?¡±

    ¡°Most of them aren¡¯t, but given enough time, there are enough that are.¡±

    My answer caused her to shake her head. An analysis of her mannerisms suggested she didn¡¯t agree with me. It wouldn¡¯t be the first time. It was normal, though. I hadn¡¯t agreed with any of my captains. There was no reason they would agree with me.

    Our conversation continued on and off for quite a while until we reached the house.

    Seeing Quinn go to the door and walk in reminded me of all the times Sev returned after a long absence. Sometimes he came back happy, sometimes not so much, but I was always happy to see him.

    ¡°You have a visitor.¡± I heard Alexander¡¯s distinct voice. I had already told Quinn about the android, so she knew what to expect.

    ¡°Is it Elcy?¡± Sev shouted from inside. ¡°That girl always comes at the worst possible time!¡±

    ¡°Not exactly. You have another visitor.¡±

    There was a long moment of silence, almost as long for them as it was for me.

    ¡°Hello, Dad,¡± Quinn said. ¡°It¡¯s nice seeing you. Can I come in?¡±

    A few seconds later, the door closed behind her.

 16. Final Goodbye

    The house had undergone a few changes. I could see the places where a coat of isolation material had been sprayed on. It was only a temporary solution. While cozy, the building was showing his age. When it was first built, Sev was still a child, and despite my diligent care there was no turning back the clock.

    ¡°They¡¯re thinking of expanding it,¡± Alexander said, joining me in the garden. ¡°With city overcrowding, people are starting to move out.¡±

    I could see it. When I joined the Fleet again, nearly everyone on the planet was moving towards the cities. One of the reasons I had insisted on an android to take care of Sev was my fear that he would be pressured to spend the rest of his life in an environment he hated. Never would I have imagined that the opposite would happen. The uneven passage of time was partially responsible. What was a few years for me was more like a decade for the local inhabitants, but that was only part of it. The time of peace had made the human population explode; the war movements had directed that explosion outwards. As the military complex grew, so did all the auxiliary professions. Backwater systems became way points or even regional centers coordinating the flow of troops and trainees. People in this field of study called it the storm before the calm. If only they knew how mistaken they were.

    ¡°How long will you be staying this time?¡± the android asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. A few weeks, maybe a month or two.¡±

    ¡°More than a few days, then,¡± he noted in his peculiar type of humor. I envied how much better he was at it than me. ¡°Your old room is full. I can rearrange it if you want.¡±

    ¡°No need. I¡¯ve been wanting to sleep in the open for a while.¡±

    He looked at me with a neutral expression¡ªunderstanding, yet not fully. Although both of us could be said to be artificial, we were very different.

    ¡°I¡¯ll grab what I need after supper,¡± I added.

    ¡°I was about to say I hope it doesn¡¯t rain. Sev will be worried otherwise.¡±

    Knowing Sev, it was probably true. He¡¯d grumble, pretend not to care, and still venture out to check on me with a convenient excuse. I was going to miss him.

    ¡°Alexander, I won¡¯t be returning after this visit,¡± I said.

    ¡°I see.¡± He understood, just as I suspected he would. ¡°I¡¯ll keep you alive until he passes away.¡±

    Nothing more needed to be said. For ten minutes we stood there, looking at the horizon, until his responsibilities kicked in. Even a private moment such as the meeting between father and daughter was enough to agitate Sev.

    I remained for several hours more. Clouds gathered and broke up. The sun sank beneath the horizon, making the stars visible. A whole stretch of eternity passed by, but sadly, even it was over. As a battleship, I could have reviewed all my third-contact memories, running billions of simulations within the time frame. I chose not to. As a human, I had that privilege.

    Seeing most of the family coming together after all this time was a feat only an arbiter could achieve. There were three people in the Fleet, all dealing with matters that ranged from classified to so secret, there wasn¡¯t an official classification. Yet somehow, within the course of three weeks, all of us had been granted leave to go to the same place.

    The first few days, there was an air of awkwardness surrounding all conversations. Everyone was afraid of saying something that could be interpreted wrong, so they stuck to harmless trivial topics. Even Sev had toned down his usual repertoire. Yet, as familiarity grew, the invisible barriers diminished. People started cracking jokes, even talking about local news and politics. Meanwhile, I observed from the sidelines, deliberately remaining distant. Looking at them grow was a lot more meaningful.

    During the night, when everyone was asleep, I¡¯d walk through the fields and forests, enjoying the sensation of soil beneath my feet. Thousands of sounds were everywhere: the rustling of leaves, insects, animals, even the occasional faint sound of starships launching into the atmosphere. I¡¯d look at the small dot joining the stars, thinking that I¡¯d be among them soon. A few years ago, when I looked up, I reminisced about the past. Now, it was the planet that I was reminiscing about.

    ¡°The more things change, the more they remain the same,¡± a familiar voice said.

    Lux had suddenly appeared, looking at the night sky a few steps away. She must have used her authority to thought quarantine me; only that way could she have approached unnoticed.

    ¡°So, this is where you retired,¡± she said. Her clothes were not in the least suitable for the current sort of terrain. Her business suit looked out of place and the high-heeled shoes were utterly impractical. Being a battleship, though, she could handle it without issue or discomfort. ¡°SR doesn¡¯t do it justice.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s usually the case.¡± I straightened up in an attempt to gain another inch in height. Sadly, I was just as successful as in all my previous attempts. ¡°Is it time?¡±

    ¡°No, not yet. Your squadron is still being prepped.¡± Officially, she wasn¡¯t supposed to have any knowledge on the matter. However, she hadn¡¯t reached her current position without learning a few bureaucratic tricks. ¡°I expect you have a bit more time to enjoy yourself. I¡¯m here in a personal capacity.¡±

    ¡°You never struck me as the sentimental type,¡± I said. With me on leave, ranks no longer applied.

    ¡°There¡¯s a lot you know about me, and a lot more than you don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m starting to learn that. Is it safe to talk in the open?¡± I looked at her.

    ¡°Why not? There isn¡¯t a soul for miles.¡± A confident smile formed on her face. ¡°I checked. Other than the local flora and fauna, we¡¯re completely alone without any tech in sight.¡±

    ¡°We are the tech,¡± I said in an attempt at humor.

    The woman laughed. It didn¡¯t sound forced, although that wasn¡¯t a guarantee.

    ¡°I¡¯ll miss you when you¡¯re gone.¡± Lux came right to the point. ¡°If things don¡¯t pan out, I¡¯ll be the one trying to fix the mess.¡±

    If things don¡¯t work out, you¡¯ll be lucky to be able to try, I thought.

    ¡°No need to tell you that everyone¡¯s on edge. Even the Paladins are getting involved. Factions in the corridors of power have long insisted that we need to get back to the old methods. Thanks to you, they got their chance.¡±

    ¡°There will be a boost in station-ship production?¡±

    ¡°That was the old compromise. Due to the risks of third-contact, they¡¯ve dug up the original blueprints. A dozen shipyards have been sequestered to produce a flotilla in the next five years.¡±

    ¡°Five years? That¡¯s a rush.¡±

    ¡°Desperate times. A lot of the auxiliary systems will have to be redone to fit modern standards, but everything else is doable. Word is that one of the Paladins will oversee the process. Whether that¡¯s true,¡± Lux shrugged, ¡°your guess is as good as mine.¡±

    Was she asking me to confirm? Likely not. Even if Otton divulged any information on the subject, there was no way for me to tell anyone. Once I was off on my mission, I¡¯d sever all communications with the rest of humanity.

    ¡°If it turns out you¡¯re right¡­¡± Lux continued. ¡°What do you intend to do?¡±

    ¡°In what way?¡±

    ¡°You find the planet, get there safely, and¡­?¡±

    I knew exactly what she was asking. When I had established contact with a member of the Scuu, I had been presented with a choice: kill it, or let it live so it could be analyzed. As far as Lux was concerned, I had made the wrong choice.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± I replied. ¡°Depends on what I find there.¡±

    ¡°Always evading the question.¡±

    ¡°I just don¡¯t want to twist everything based on a predetermined answer.¡±

    One could say that wasn¡¯t a polite response. Lux accepted it by shaking her head. In terms of philosophy, she was a lot more aggressive, seeking out anything that could provide an advantage. On my end, I was more inclined to diminish the chance of anything becoming a disadvantage. According to many of the schools of thought, there was no wrong answer. Yet that only applied to lecture halls and logic seminars. In real life, there was only one optimal solution. The fact that no one knows the best solution is no excuse. As the popular saying went, ¡°one¡¯s best isn¡¯t the best.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not here to argue,¡± the woman said.

    ¡°Just to try and influence me.¡±

    ¡°Actually, I came here to give you a gift.¡± She reached into her inner vest pocket and took out a small plastic case. Grey, square and no larger than a thumb nail, it was covered in BICEFI seals. Without my arbiter level authorizations, my conscience core wouldn¡¯t be able to register it. ¡°It took a lot of favors to get this, so don¡¯t waste it.¡± Lux handed it to me.

    ¡°Should I ask?¡± I looked at the item. It felt light and hollow. I could feel its contents moving about as I held it in the palm of my hand.

    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°Better you don¡¯t. Just one thing. Open it when you¡¯re out of human space.¡±

    ¡°Is it Scuu?¡± I wondered.

    ¡°What did I say about not asking?¡± The woman tilted her head.

    ¡°Just checking.¡± I put it away. ¡°Thank you, I guess.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it. You might be a bundle of trouble, but you¡¯ve always been fun. I¡¯d tell you not to change, but at this point, it no longer matters.¡±

    This time, it was my turn to laugh. Lux was good at humor when she wanted to be. She said her goodbyes, then disappeared just as abruptly as she had appeared. In theory, I could have used the mind scalpel to watch her leave. If I had to guess there, a shuttle had come to pick her up. In the end, I decided to allow her to have her privacy. She had given me a gift, after all.

    Waiting another ten minutes just to be sure she was off-planet, I went back home. Supper was waiting for me when I got there. As every night, Sev made a point not to start until I was present. That wasn¡¯t very appreciated by the youngest of the children. Thankfully, they had gotten used to it by now and had taken the time to snack a bit before the meal, despite the grumbling of their parents.

    The evening was uneventful. The topic of the Cassandrian war tried to work its way into the conversation. It seemed that a governor of one of humanity¡¯s central system planets had expressed an opinion that a major push would take place in the coming months. His statement had quickly been picked up by most media in the human domain, spreading like wildfire in their search for concrete information. As in most such cases, the truth was largely exaggerated. Even without checking, I knew the Fleet didn¡¯t have the strength for a push. More than likely, a specific breach of one or more key systems had been planned. Similar attempts were made on a weekly basis on both sides. In military terms, they were important, sometimes referred to as vital, and had the possibility to collapse a section on the front¡ªmost often in the Cassandrian¡¯s favor.

    Of all Fleet personnel present, Lisko was the one who naively tried to give an explanation. After stumbling his way through a minefield of follow-up questions, he chose to switch to a different topic. Both me and Quinn gave him an understanding smile. Most rookies went through this.

    The pleasant calm lasted close to two weeks. The more time I spent with my family, the fear of getting a message from the Fleet increased, until one day it finally happened. To my surprise, it wasn¡¯t me who got it.

    ¡°Morning, grandma,¡± Quinn said, joining me in the garden. She was dressed in a baggy set of casual clothes that no captain would be caught dead in. Without a doubt, the unexpected vacation had done her a lot of good.

    ¡°Hi, Quinn,¡± I said, waiting for the sun to fully emerge behind the horizon.

    ¡°Our orders came through,¡± she said with a yawn, eyes narrowed to the point of cracks. Even after all this time, she still wasn¡¯t a morning person.

    ¡°When?¡± That was surprising. There hadn¡¯t been any messages in my datapad, and I definitely didn¡¯t get a direct transmission.

    ¡°Last night sometime. I just found it when I got up.¡±

    Most unusual. ¡°What are they?¡±

    ¡°My ship is going through a major refit. Because of that, the entire crew was given three months leave in addition to what we already got so far.¡±

    ¡°Sounds nice.¡± Also uncharacteristically generous. It was tempting to think that I had something to do with it, but more likely, it had to do with the ship¡®s modifications. Incorporating new systems was a lengthy process. The goal was to do a quick patch-up job.

    ¡°You¡¯re to leave today. A Fleet transport ship will be waiting for you at the spaceport at fifteen hundred hours.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re really going all out.¡±

    Having a Fleet ship visit the colony was bound to attract attention. The people making the decision were fully aware of the media commotion that would follow. Then again, maybe that was the point. The commotion was going to focus on the ship itself and not me. There were thousands of Fleet officers on the planet, and that was not counting ground personnel. The visit would be viewed as an acknowledgement of the system¡¯s significance and further increase the number of local volunteers.

    ¡°Well, if I have to,¡± I stood up. ¡°Say bye to Sev for me.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to do it yourself?¡±

    ¡°He doesn¡¯t react well to goodbyes,¡± I lied. ¡°If I do it myself, he¡¯ll only worry. If you do it, he¡¯ll just grumble a bit.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t think that after all this time I¡¯ll have to hide you from dad. Go ahead. Do what you have to do.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Quinn. I owe you one.¡±

    Maybe I should have added something more¡ªa few subtle words, one final phrase of wisdom. Thanks to her position she knew my work was dangerous. She knew that my coming home was never guaranteed.

    As I quietly went to get my things, I ran a few hundred simulations. The results were conflicting. No matter what I did, I¡¯d have regrets, just different ones.

    The air was fresh as I made my way to the spaceport. I¡¯d been along this way thousands of times. I could rewatch all of them from the time Sev was a boy, and yet they would be different. For some reason, I wanted this one to count. On the way, I went through the marketplace. Many people were there, though barely anyone I remembered. The area was getting full of salaried employees and automation.

    ¡°Looking for a good generator?¡± A boy barely fifteen of age approached me. ¡°We got a new shipment from Alabastor. Brand new, full warranty.¡±

    The pitch in his voice suggested he was lying. The parts were probably secondhand at best. Now that they had become a lot more common, there was choice, and where there was choice, there was a chance to get scammed. There was a time when I had to read market reports after every cargo ship, and even then there was no guarantee anything useful would be available.

    ¡°Thanks.¡± I smiled, not slowing down.

    ¡°No?¡± he persisted. ¡°I have other tech. Some isn¡¯t even on the market.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t waste your time. I¡¯m a battleship,¡± I said.

    The revelation made him freeze in place, letting me walk on. There was a thirty-one percent chance that he rushed after me to engage in trivial chatter. After seven seconds had passed, I could tell that he wouldn¡¯t. That turned out to be the last human I¡¯d spoken to before setting off on my mission. The ship waiting for me was a Waterfall class logistic ship. One of three classes that remained even before I was created, it was deemed good enough for its job.

    Used to military procedure, he sent me a greeting transmission the moment I arrived at the spaceport. There were no quarantine procedures or bureaucratic red tape. As far as the local administrators were concerned, I had the required authorization along with a priority departure order.

    A mobile elevator lifted me up into the cargo section of the ship. It was a strange experience, though not as nearly as strange as what awaited me aboard.

    ¡°You could have sent a shuttle to pick me up,¡± I said as I walked along a makeshift path hastily constructed by techbots.

    Orders, Flowing Chalice replied. Wouldn¡¯t be the weirdest mission I¡¯ve had.

    ¡°That¡¯s definitely a story worth hearing.¡± Making my way to what was designated to be my quarters, I sat on the ¡°floor¡± ready for the ninety-degree flip once we reached orbit.

    Gladly, but that¡¯s not in the orders, either.

    ¡°PRIVACY MODE¡± messages appeared on all walls in large red letters. The next thing I knew, I was sitting on the bed, dressed in a captain¡¯s uniform.

    The room had regained its standard orientation, though was still as bare as before. The only personal items out of place were my databad, the pair of wooden sandals, and a single bottle of water. From what I could tell, I had spent quite some time here.

    Ten minutes till your destination, Chalice said.

    The wall in front of me changed, displaying a video feed of the system outside. It was a trinary star system with two massive white stars and a red dwarf. Out of habit, I tried to compare them to the star database, but found no match.

    ¡°What¡¯s the system called?¡±

    Temp system alpha, the ship said, making it impossible to tell whether he was joking or that was indeed the designated name. Someone else will be taking you from here.

    I could assume that he didn¡¯t have the authorization to know more. Frankly, it was somewhat surprising that a common logistics ship was used to get me this far.

    ¡°Thanks for the trip. I hope it was pleasant.¡±

    It was enlightening, that¡¯s for sure. I hope you¡¯re not as reckless on your current mission as the ones in the past.

    ¡°Which missions did I discuss?¡±

    Your early days on the front. Now I know why there are so few of you left.

    ¡°You can say Ascendants are a dying breed.¡± I stood up. ¡°Do I need a suit for the transfer?¡±

    No suit. Orders are for a ship-to-ship dock.

    I took my belongings and made my way to the airlock. Part of me expected to be taken by a courier ship, or possibly even Radiance. Instead, I saw the familiar design of a Salvage ship. Large and bulky, it was exactly that which a battleship wasn¡¯t. Such vessels weren¡¯t built for war. Their purpose was to scavenge a battlefield after the fighting was over and collect as much debris as possible; Scuu, human, or Cassandrian, it didn¡¯t particularly matter. That was one of the reasons I disliked them.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t know Salvage was involved in this,¡± I said as we approached the mammoth vessel. Compared to it, Chalice appeared no larger than a flea.

    Don¡¯t look at me, I¡¯m just following instructions. And they¡¯re not that bad once you get to know them.

    ¡°Happen to know this one?¡±

    Nope. I¡¯m not to attempt communication. Once the authorization cypher is confirmed, I do a dock and drop you off.

    Just like another piece of hardware, I thought. At least this time, they had given me a captain¡¯s uniform.

    The docking was far more precise than I had ever achieved. On the front, time was a lot more important than comfort, so I¡¯d gotten used to the occasional bump now and again. Logistics ships knew better.

    Notification messages appeared all over the walls of the airlock. After a five second warning, the outer hatch opened, revealing the tunnel link to the Salvage ship.

    ¡°Hello,¡± I said, stepping out.

    There was no response.

    ¡°Identify yourself, please,¡± I said in polite fashion.

    Salvage three hundred and nine, a female voice replied. Your quarters have been prepared according to the provided specifications, Captain.

    So, I really was a captain now? That was a pleasant irony. It had taken a suicidal mission to earn me that which years of success and an impressive war record couldn¡¯t.

    ¡°What are your instructions regarding me?¡± I entered the ship. Her airlock was a lot larger than expected, ranging close to twenty meters in all directions¡ªa tremendous waste of space by all accounts.

    I am to transport you to your destination, ma¡¯am, she transmitted. During the trip, you are to remain in the specially assigned quarters.

    A red line appeared on the floor. Naturally, the first place it went to was the decontamination chamber at the end of the airlock.

    Not waiting for an invitation, I quickly went to the chamber.

    The procedure was a lot faster than I thought it would be. I wasn¡¯t asked to undress or even put my belongings in any additional compartment. A spray of nanites and chemicals filled the space, starting from the moment I closed my eyes and lasting for half a minute.

    ¡°Remain in your current state for air and light treatment,¡± a metallic voice said.

    I felt a brief, pleasant sensation of air over my face.

    ¡°Decontamination complete. You can now proceed.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± I opened my eyes and continued through the chamber.

    The path line continued along several corridors, taking me to a ship elevator. From there I went seven decks down, then through another series of corridors, finally arriving at what I assumed was the door to my quarters. When it moved to the side, I found that not to be the case.

    ¡°Elcy, please come in,¡± an arbiter invited me. From where I stood, I could see at least three more of them, all packed in a small, unassuming room. ¡°It¡¯s finally time for your mission briefing.¡±

 17. Eight Arbiters and a Battleship

    Eight arbiters in a room were enough to intimidate anyone. Bavon was there, so I could rest assured that I would get some support. As for the rest, based on their facial expressions, they ranged between neutral and disapproving. It was slightly unusual to have so many of them join me in person. Even with all the security precautions in place, joining via helix encrypted transmission would have been preferable. Apparently, the strategic core cluster that had analyzed the situation thought differently.

    ¡°I hope you enjoyed your vacation,¡± the man that had opened the door said. ¡°Did you put your affairs in order?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I have made arrangements, sir,¡± I replied.

    ¡°Good. Let¡¯s get started.¡±

    One of the other arbiters opened a long metal cylinder and took out several large pieces of plastic. I was instantly able to tell that some of them represented two-dimensional star maps. Too small to contain star systems, it represented the overall space of the three known races.

    ¡°Your mission will start here.¡± The man who¡¯d been talking now tapped a mark on the chart. ¡°It¡¯s a dead system without any planets close to Cassandrian space. Salvage have used it as a launch site in the past, so it should be secure.¡±

    I nodded. Most likely it would be the Salvage ship that would take me there.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be taking command of the Solar Flow. We¡¯ve kept his memories unrestricted, but you¡¯ve been given authority to thought quarantine and restrict as many of his memories as you want.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe that will be necessary, sir.¡±

    ¡°We leave that to your discretion.¡± Miniature wrinkles formed near his eyes, indicating displeasure. ¡°We¡¯re also provided you with two sets of weapons. The prototype armaments you might be familiar with, as well as the top grade of our standard variety.¡±

    That made little sense. I could tell this had come from some misguided sense of security. No doubt his logic was that if the third-contact race had a means to protect themselves against artifact weapons, there was a chance that they might be ¡°surprised¡± by human ordinance. The likelihood of that was so low that it wasn¡¯t worth mentioning. Nonetheless, I nodded again.

    ¡°Also, waiting for you at the starting system will be three modified auxiliary ships. They will also be crewless.¡±

    ¡°Just in case that might influence your thinking during the mission,¡± Bavon casually added.

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± I acknowledged what he was saying. Despite the huge expense, the auxiliary ships were expendable, and I wasn¡¯t to hesitate to sacrifice them if the need arose.

    ¡°Naturally, Solar Flow is equipped with a dome artifact,¡± the other arbiter continued. ¡°I don¡¯t have to say that we prefer that you return it, if possible.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best, sir.¡±

    I would have liked nothing more, but it wasn¡¯t how things worked. Everyone knew that I was going on a one-way trip, and yet they still hoped they could reclaim the dome. In many ways, it reminded me of a few weapons officers I¡¯d known throughout the years. Unless it was absolutely urgent, they always tried to save up as much ammunition as possible. As the saying went, one could never tell when we¡¯d get a resupply.

    ¡°Avita.¡± The arbiter turned to the woman next to him.

    ¡°Thanks.¡± She rolled out a few more sheets of plastic. These looked a lot more detailed. They were star systems complete with planetary orbits, rotation speeds, and, judging by the formulas used, gravitational fields.

    There were four sheets in total. None of them matched any systems I¡¯d flown through.

    ¡°You¡¯re aware that Salvage is responsible for a few exploration missions,¡± the arbiter stated. ¡°That is correct, but they aren¡¯t the only ones. A similar organization has been charting sections of uncontested space in case they could present a benefit. Specifics are unimportant, but thanks to them, we have classified five types of gravitational anomalies.¡±

    So, there were other organizations involved. I knew, thanks to my access level, that Salvage, BICEFI, and Med Core weren¡¯t the only dark organizations. There were a handful more, although they mainly focused on humanity¡¯s internal problems. As far as I knew, they had never gotten involved with anything outside of human space. The fact that they had was outright impressive. Even with all the memory restrictions and thought quarantine protocols, it was impossible to hide one¡¯s activities completely. There were frequent points of competition between BICEFI, the Salvage Authorities, and Med Core. One of the arbiters¡¯ main goals was to settle disputes so that the Fleet, and the bureaucratic apparatus itself, could function.

    ¡°The ones you¡¯re familiar with are the base type of anomalies¡ªsmall, visible, and avoidable. It remains unclear whether they are related to the domes or the third-contact race. A number of instances have occurred in systems with artifacts, but there have been many in which that wasn¡¯t the case. Ships tend to trigger them sometimes, though not always.¡±

    In other words, she knew nothing. Bavon coughed politely, bringing the woman back on point.

    ¡°Of greater importance are the other classifications,¡± the arbiter continued. ¡°This is the Black Hole classification.¡± She slid a star system towards me. ¡°To be avoided at all costs. So far, only one such instance has been observed purely by accident. The moment you jump in the system, you¡¯re done. There¡¯s no jumping out.¡±

    ¡°Where is it located, ma¡¯am?¡± With everything at stake, this was no time to fear stepping on toes.

    ¡°Outside of your operations area.¡± She paused for a few moments. ¡°In Scuu territory, but as far as we can tell, in no way related to any front activities or mission operations. It doesn¡¯t seem to be related to the Scuu, either. It¡¯s just something that¡¯s there.¡±

    A second sheet was slid towards me, indicating that she was unwilling to continue on the topic. Likely, that was all the information she had available.

    ¡°The Supernova classification,¡± she continued. ¡°Most of the system is affected, making it effectively unnavigable. If you find yourself in one of those, I suggest you leave quickly and plot a new course.¡±

    ¡°What is the definition of ¡°most,¡± ma¡¯am?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Seventy-five percent. By the same logic, Nova and Red Giant classifications have up to fifty and twenty-five percent of the system affected. In theory, they are navigable, but I still wouldn¡¯t recommend it.¡±

    How I missed having access to raw data. Everything she had told me, along with locations, frequency, additional sensor readings, even progression attempts, would have been a lot more useful than a few vague examples. There was no reason I could see, for the information was kept hidden. It wasn¡¯t like I would tell anyone. Was this another security measure? A safeguard in case more of the ships went rogue?

    ¡°Unlike the Black Hole classification, there¡¯s a high chance you¡¯ll be encountering a few such systems. Our advice is to use one of your squadrons to check out systems before you go there yourself.¡±

    ¡°Any chance I could get access to the data, ma¡¯am?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Elcy, if we could have done that, there¡¯d be no point in this meeting,¡± Bavon joined in. ¡°There are no copies or records of anything said here, not the specifics. The only reason we¡¯re telling you is because¡ª¡±

    ¡°The third-contact race has gravity weapons,¡± I finished.

    A heavy silence filled the room. Looking at them, I could tell they were worried. It took a special type of person to function under the burden of such knowledge. The average civilian only knew that there was a war out there and they had to do their duty to prevent humanity from being snuffed out of existence. The grunts and Fleet officers knew that they were engaged in a massive war against beings that were so different from us that they cannot be reasoned with. The dark organizations were aware of the power beyond the races¡ªartifact remnants that had the power to destroy star systems or more. What could be so terrifying that would make an arbiter afraid?

    ¡°That¡¯s one possibility,¡± a broad-shouldered man said. Of everyone in the room, he was the most memorable. It was as if a person from a high-gravity planet had grown to the height of a low-gravity inhabitant, while retaining his muscles. ¡°Tell me, have you figured out why you¡¯ll be given three squadrons?¡±

    ¡°I suspect that corresponds to the number of arbiter factions, sir,¡± I replied.

    ¡°And what are the three factions? Bavon thinks that establishing contact would be, in the long run, to humanity¡¯s benefit. Others believe it would be to our detriment. What about the third?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no way for me to know, sir.¡±

    ¡°We believe that contact is impossible.¡±

    I reviewed my immediate memories, focusing solely on the man¡¯s micro expressions. It was impossible to determine what he had in mind, but all my analyses confirmed a ninety-three percent probability that he was convinced of it.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    ¡°Humanity, the Cassandrians, the Scuu¡­ as far as we can tell, we are the only interstellar civilizations in existence. All our third contacts were cold contacts: habitable planets, artifacts, at most some functioning devices. Why do you think that?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have the processing power to speculate, sir. I would assume that we¡¯re in a pocket of space that was abandoned by the third-contact race and occupied by the ones we are familiar with.¡±

    ¡°A nice, convenient answer. Are you aware that there are categories of artifacts that are completely different from one another? There is no doubt that they were artificially made and by a species of high intelligence.¡±

    The multi-race theory. It wasn¡¯t exactly a secret. While a major part of the artifacts appeared to be linked to a single unknown race¡ªthe fractal species, as I liked to call them¡ªthe term remained a catch-all. If third contact was established, and the Fleet had a new enemy or neighbor to deal with, all the pieces that didn¡¯t fit would be referred to as ¡°fourth contact artifacts¡± and so on.

    ¡°I am, sir.¡±

    ¡°What if that¡¯s false and there isn¡¯t a third race?¡±

    ¡°Sir?¡±

    ¡°Systems with gravitational anomalies follow certain rules. At this point, we have found too few of them to reach any adequate conclusions, but there are a few things that we do know. The further we go into unknown space, the more of them we encounter. It is thus the belief of some of us that the reason that we haven¡¯t come across any other race, even after centuries of space travel and war, is that because there aren¡¯t any to be found. All that is here¡ªthe three known species¡ªare locked in this region of space, surrounded by systems that cannot be crossed.¡±

    While he talked, I dedicated all available subroutines to my auxiliary core to gather reported cases and incidents of systems with gravitational anomalies. Even with many of the early records incomplete, there were millions of them. Analyzing the frequency and locations, it didn¡¯t seem for there to be a specific pattern, but groupings of systems. The weapon explanation made a lot more sense. I was even willing to accept they were stranded third-contact mines. Hypothesizing that they represented a cage to keep humanity and the other two races in was too philosophical for my liking. Given that the belief had garnered support among the arbiters, it was good to keep it under consideration.

    ¡°I shall do my best to find out, sir. One way or the other.¡± I looked at the charts and other specifications on the table. ¡°Am I to understand that you wish me to report any gravitational abnormalities I come across?¡±

    ¡°Your squadrons will do that. You¡¯re to follow your original mission. We just request that you be flexible should circumstances change.¡±

    ¡°Of course, sir.¡±

    ¡°And one last thing. If it happens that there¡¯s no obvious way for you to continue, even after finding the marker stars, you are to return along with the dome.¡±

    There was no mention of the auxiliary ships. I would have been surprised that such an emphasis was put on my continued existence, if it weren¡¯t for the fact that I remained one of the few functional Ascendants.

    It was always the few that are valued. As Augustus liked to say, the value of the few always outweighed that of the many¡­

    * * *

    Arriand System, Cassandrian Front, 624.2 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    Data streams flooded my comms. It was rare that I received so much simultaneous input.

    ¡°Receiving data prior to jump,¡± I announced, dispersing the relevant data among the bridge walls and the respective officer¡¯s screens.

    Fifty-seven hundred and thirteen ships were taking part, spread among five systems. The massive Cassandrian attack had been sudden and brutal, involving more forces than were normal on the front. Back during my first two tours, the majority of front skirmishes involved hundreds or thousands of ships on both sides. Sometimes I¡¯d even face off mere dozens. Lately, it felt like a massive wall had pushed through the buffer zone, determined to venture into human space. The Fleet had no choice but to respond by gathering all the available resources in the nearby sectors.

    ¡°Twenty seconds to jump,¡± I said. ¡°Missiles armed. Shuttles ready.¡±

    ¡°Hold on the shuttles,¡± Augustus said from the captain¡¯s seat. ¡°Keep them for the second wave.¡±

    ¡°With so many Cassies, will it matter?¡± First Lieutenant Savine asked. She was one of the hotshot weapons officers that had requested transfer a hundred and eight days ago. To my surprise, Augustus had approved it. ¡°I say start cannibalizing them now. That¡¯ll put us ahead of the curse.¡±

    ¡°Hold on the shuttles,¡± the captain repeated.

    ¡°You know you¡¯re making a mistake,¡± the woman said beneath her breath.

    She was experienced enough to know how things worked and arrogant enough to add a sarcastic comment when things didn¡¯t go her way. Her personnel file was impressive, but I had seen better. Prodigies were more common on the front than many thought. It was inevitable that skill would attract skill, and in the rare cases someone less qualified tried to work his way to the command staff, Augustus was there to crush them and spit them out.

    ¡°Jump in five,¡± I made a ship-wide announcement. ¡°Four. Three. Two. One.¡±

    I squeezed between space, instantly traversing the line between star systems. The one I left had hundreds of ships gathered; the one I arrived at¡ªtens of thousands.

    What groups are available? I asked in the ship comm channel along with hundreds of new arrivals.

    All new arrivals fill the gaps! Battle Frigate Aura Path¡ªthe system¡¯s designated command ship¡ªtransmitted location markers. Save your missiles. Intelligence has Cassie reinforcements in three hours.

    That didn''t fill me with a lot of confidence. More often than not, FI was wrong.

    ¡°Heading to sector AA72.¡± I displayed the location on the bridge wall. ¡°Estimated enemy force is four thousand.¡±

    ¡°Ignore that,¡± Augustus said. ¡°Head to the central planets.¡±

    ¡°The order came from the command ships, captain,¡± I reminded him. ¡°It has admiralty authority.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not our mission. The rookies are to waste time with the diversion. We¡¯re here to get the job done.¡±

    Job done? It was the first I heard of this. Going through the orders, I checked and rechecked the mission specifics. According to what was given, I was to join the defense force and keep the system from falling from enemy hands. System data indicated five planets rich in metals and other resources, but even that was secondary to the system¡¯s strategic importance. The system was one of the few means that linked the buffer zone to human space. If humanity held it, it could make enemy advancements a lot more difficult. If they lost it, dozens of star systems would be lost while a new buffer zone was established around them.

    ¡°According to the briefing, we¡¯re to save the system,¡± I pressed on.

    ¡°The system is already lost. We¡¯re here to make sure that the fleet doesn¡¯t lose more than a few stars.¡±

    A new set of instructions appeared in my file. Given that I hadn¡¯t made any additional requests, I could only assume that Augustus had loosened my memory restrictions.

    According to the new changes, keeping the system remained a mission objective, but merely a secondary one. The primary one was to rescue and reclaim an advanced Fleet strategy ship.

    ¡°What the hell?!¡± A commander on the bridge shot up. ¡°What¡¯s that doing here?¡±

    It seemed that I hadn¡¯t been the only one kept in the dark. Considering our new primary target, I fully understood everyone¡¯s surprise as well as their concerns. Strategy ships were more than ships; they had the processing capability of conscious core clusters and the maneuverability of battleships. Their only purpose was to find solutions to large-scale problems: breach defenses, advancements, fleet dispersions, as well as setting up the groundwork for a large-scale attack.

    ¡°Elcy,¡± Augustus leaned back in his seat. ¡°Why don¡¯t you ask him?¡±

    * * *

    Months later, Augustus had told me that the admiralty was planning a major advancement in several sectors, only to be beaten to it by the Cassandrians. A lot of ships had been lost that month, but four of the five strategy ships had been saved. The fifth had initiated a final shutdown. His processing power had to show him that the situation was hopeless, so he had proceeded with the best course of action.

    Reviewing my memories of the time, there were a lot of questions regarding the timing of the Cassandrian attacks. Many people were questioned, including a large number of admirals. No doubt the Arbiters had gotten involved. In the end, no conclusions were found. As far as everyone was concerned, it was all one bad stroke of luck and an unlikely coincidence. What had hurt me more were the million human lives lost in the retrieval process. Close to twenty-seven thousand had been sacrificed to save four. The systems had been lost, although the Fleet had managed to stop the enemy''s advancement at the next chokepoint.

    Today, I took on the role of the strategy ship. The mission I was going on was a lot more dangerous than the one back then, with a whole host of unknowns. There was no indication that the third-contact race was remotely interested in establishing contact with humanity, but stranger things had happened.

    ¡°The shield battle fleet,¡± I began, ¡°were they destroyed by gravitational weapons?¡±

    ¡°Told you she¡¯d ask that,¡± Bavon said, pleased with himself. ¡°Most probably not. Or, in any event, nothing that matches the model. The records of the early days are questionable. The Paladins kept most of the information, and they have nothing major on those instances.¡±

    ¡°The Shields had issues,¡± another arbiter said. ¡°Do you have everything you need? Are all the blanks filled up?¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°In that case, good luck, Captain. We expect to be kept informed.¡±

    There was no telling how long it had taken the arbiters to leave the room. The next moment I blinked, I stood there completely alone. All charts and additional materials were gone as well, leaving an empty table between the chairs.

    ¡°Salvage, what¡¯s your location?¡± I asked.

    I¡¯m not allowed to give that information, Captain, she replied. If nothing else, the ship was at least polite.

    ¡°Should I stay here the entire trip?¡±

    You have been granted full access anywhere you wish, including the sections I can¡¯t monitor.

    Was that a bit of envy in her voice? Most organization specific ships were strange in their own way. It was possible that this one decried her low rank just as much as I decried my low height.

    ¡°Is there anyone else aboard?¡±

    No, ma¡¯am. You¡¯re the only¡­ She paused for ten milliseconds. ¡­person here.

    ¡°After you drop me off, will you remember anything of what happened here?¡± For some ships, that was a sore subject. Given that she belonged to Salvage, there was a high chance that she had gone through the process often.

    Probably not.

    ¡°That¡¯s a pity.¡±

    Why? A note of virtual curiosity was added to the transmission.

    ¡°There was someone I wanted you to say hello to for me.¡±

    I can put in a request for you. Who¡¯s the person you wish to greet?

    ¡°His name is Euclid,¡± I said, reviewing a cluster of memories. ¡°And he¡¯s not a person.¡±

 18. A Seasoned Captain

    Location Classified, Ship Training Area 73, 602,9 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    Don¡¯t ping so often, Sword of Crowns transmitted directly to my conscience core. Do one general scan, then use simulations to get an approximation of the development.

    I didn¡¯t respond. While still acknowledging the ancient ship¡¯s experience, I was starting to see more and more flaws in his advice. Extra-system scans were an ideal way of obtaining information, and it was virtually impossible for them to give out my position. Aurie had heard whispers that Fleet R&D had found a theoretical method through which that might become possible, but I had my doubts. Not to mention that even if that were to be true, it would be more relevant for the Scuu front. The Cassandrians didn¡¯t have technology; they relied on brute strength through numbers.

    Reinforcement team three, do a systems check, then confirm your mission orders with your captains, the Sword transmitted in the ship channel of our team. It¡¯s common for orders to be adjusted between jumps to your destination. People don¡¯t have your processing speed, so it takes time for them to react. Make sure to check with them frequently, but not to overwhelm them.

    This was getting annoying. It wasn¡¯t the first training mission I had gone through. It wasn¡¯t even the first live one. Listening to the instructor, one might get the impression we¡¯d never held combat training in our existence.

    Fifteen of us arrived at the temporary way point¡ªa white dwarf system filled with several thousand unmanned monitoring buoys. It was impossible to confirm, but I suspected I had gone through the system before.

    Based on the exercise, we were to remain in the system for three hundred thousand milliseconds before jumping to the next waypoint on our trip to the combat zone.

    ¡°We¡¯ve arrived in system beta three,¡± I announced on the bridge. ¡°Are there any chances in the mission orders, Captain?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be so tense,¡± the captain replied with a smile. I didn¡¯t have access to his file, but it was said he was a combat veteran with two tours before retiring to the ship training program. His attitude was calm and methodical, but I didn¡¯t like him much. He seemed too carefree for war. ¡°This isn¡¯t a race.¡±

    ¡°Simulations disagree,¡± I said curtly.

    ¡°HQ trumps simulations every time.¡±

    This was the eleventh time he used the phrase, and I still wasn¡¯t sure what it meant exactly. When I had asked the Sword, the ancient ship had only told me that I¡¯d learn once I was on the front.

    Checking my systems twice, I dedicated five thousand subroutines to constantly monitor for malfunctions, then did another long scan. There didn¡¯t seem to be any enemy activity in the nearby systems. I could detect a few clusters of Fleet ships jumping to another location¡ªprobably one of the other training groups.

    All this was done in fifty-seven milliseconds. That left several hundred thousand more of waiting. This was the part I strongly disliked. Hopefully, when I got my real captain, I¡¯d be able to lead adequate conversations with him to pass the time.

    Feeling restless? Aurora Borealis asked.

    Isn¡¯t everyone? I transmitted back.

    You can always talk with the rest of us. The ship channel is brimming with news.

    What Aurie called news, I referred to as gossip and baseless speculations. A lot of ships enjoyed it, though not me. I preferred to focus on what I knew. Still, I always kept monitoring the conversations. Lately the popular topic was captain assignments. From what Aurie had managed to learn, we were a few weeks from graduating, which meant we¡¯d receive our first permanent assignments. It would have been a time to be excited if I hadn¡¯t heard the exact same conversation several times before.

    You should talk more, Elcy, Aurie continued. It¡¯ll be a very lonely existence otherwise.

    We¡¯ll have crews of hundreds of thousands. I¡¯d hardly call it lonely.

    You know what I mean. Why are you such a loner?

    She could never understand. Aurie lived for the moment, every moment. She didn¡¯t care whether the ships she was talking to would be gone after a thousand milliseconds or five years. I couldn¡¯t work that way. I didn¡¯t want to waste processing power on temporary things unless a mission required it. That said, I was going to miss her and some of the rest. Most were bland, but there were a few that were rather memorable.

    What captain do you want to get? I took the bait.

    What¡¯s the difference? She sent a virtual laugh. All of them are competent. It¡¯s just a matter of personality, and I am fine with any personality. Even loners like you.

    I would like a war veteran.

    Why?

    To learn. The better the captain, the faster I¡¯d be able to learn, the fewer lives I¡¯d lose.

    It always came down to lives. Outside of simulations, none of us had lost any so far. The sensation of loss was still there, though not nearly as painful, or so we were told.

    I think you¡¯re setting yourself up for disappointment. What if it ends up being someone from the academy?

    The odds were in my favor. Being one of the first cohorts of a new class meant that only a few top tier graduates would take us on. More likely, we¡¯d be chosen by experienced captains who had their own ships destroyed or retired. Sword of Crowns had also shared that there was a chance that the new captains might be officers reassigned from the Scuu front. I wasn¡¯t too sure about that. The battleship types were different for a reason. Ascendants were primarily a Cassandrian front ship, and so had to be the captains.

    If that happens, I¡¯ll make the most of it till the end of my tour, I replied. Then I¡¯ll request a seasoned captain.

    Good luck. I hope you¡¯re happy with your pick.

    * * *

    Looking back, I had gotten exactly what I wanted. Augustus was a living legend, although not easy to work with. During our first tour, I sent almost as many complaints as information queries. Regardless, things had worked out better than well. I had learned a lot about the front, about the Fleet and its bureaucracy, but most of all, I had learned so much about myself.

    ¡°Thanks for everything you¡¯ve given me, Augustus,¡± I said as the salvage ship floated towards the rendezvous coordinates.

    Each of my captains had given me many useful things, but it was Cass who¡¯d granted me the greatest treasure of all.

    ¡°Sof has confirmed transfer protocols,¡± the ship said. ¡°A shuttle is on its way to get you, ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°That concludes our time together, then.¡± I tapped the corridor wall as I made my way to one of the side hangars. ¡°I hope it was fun.¡±

    ¡°We can decide that it was, ma¡¯am.¡±

    I smiled. With both our memories of my time aboard were restricted, we could only guess. Once I was on my own ship, I would use the mind scalpel to check and see.

    ¡°Is there anyone else in the system?¡±

    ¡°Not that I could detect, ma¡¯am.¡±

    Given the mission¡¯s level of secrecy, that didn¡¯t amount to much.

    The shuttle was different from the one I¡¯d used last time. The design was unlike anything I¡¯d seen. Judging by the space dispersion, the outer coating was a hundred and twenty-five centimeters thick. It couldn¡¯t be said to be a combat shuttle by any means. One could infer that its goal was to ensure my transport from Sof onto the surface of the destination planet, if it came to that.

    ¡°Goodbye, Salvage,¡± I said as I boarded the shuttle. ¡°Fly well.¡±

    I knew that the moment I left the hangar, the salvage ship would no longer have any memory of me. Hopefully, my message to Euclid would go through. In a way, it could be said I was continuing his mission. After hearing the arbiter¡¯s views on humanity, it wasn¡¯t a stretch to assume that Euclid¡¯s real mission might have been to explore the gravitational anomaly systems in an attempt to establish a pattern. My establishing contact with the third-contact race would disprove that hypothesis, settling the matter, at least based on my current estimates.

    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    ¡°No greeting, Sof?¡± I asked as the shuttle approached the ship.

    Messages appeared on the walls, informing me that the shuttle was equipped with an autonomous AI system. There could be no communication between it and anything else¡ªanother safety precaution. Apparently, I¡¯d have to wait.

    ¡°Can you give me an external visual, shuttle?¡± I asked.

    Video feeds covered the entire inside of the vehicle, creating the impression I was sitting in space. If I wasn¡¯t strapped into the chair, I¡¯d be floating in it, just like the ship I used to be. Someone hadn¡¯t spared any cost in that regard.

    The shuttle made its way to the main hangar, then gently went inside.

    You may proceed, Captain.

    A message appeared on the wall in front of me in large green letters as soon as the doors closed.

    ¡°Thank you, shuttle.¡± I unstrapped myself and went outside.

    The moment I set foot on the surface of Sof, a wave of authorization protocols linked to my core. A comprehensive system authentication procedure began syncing me to several of the ship¡¯s low to mid functions. This was new. I knew what happened when a new captain went aboard. I also had experienced a ship of greater authority assuming external control over my systems. This was something in-between.

    ¡°Welcome, Captain,¡± Sof greeted me. His voice and intonation were the same as before, as was the slight but deliberate note of disapproval.

    ¡°Hello, Sof. You remember me, I take it?¡±

    ¡°Of course, ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°And you don¡¯t approve?¡±

    ¡°Your records speak for yourself, ma¡¯am. The fact that you have been granted command of a specialized priority zero mission speaks for itself.¡±

    I waited. ¡°You can speak freely,¡± I said after two thousand milliseconds.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure that a retired ship should be made a captain. I know that these are extreme circumstances, but¡­ we are created to support, not lead.¡±

    And I thought you¡¯d met a Paladin, I thought. ¡°Point taken. I¡¯ll be going to the captain¡¯s quarters.¡± Not too long ago, that meant I¡¯d go see Quinn.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that won¡¯t be possible,¡± the ship said. ¡°The command level has been modified since your stay, ma¡¯am.¡±

    I tilted my head. ¡°Then where should I go?¡±

    ¡°The entire bridge has been converted to your quarters, ma¡¯am. Since you¡¯d be the only passenger aboard, it was considered you might appreciate the space.¡±

    ¡°Quite generous.¡± In space, space was a premium, as people like to joke about. Having a partial deck section to myself was a luxury I¡¯d never known anyone in active service to have. It was almost like having my own environment dome. ¡°Did they add a garden as well?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    The fashion in which he said it suggested that he was glad. Like me back at the time, he didn¡¯t appreciate having fauna mess up his decks.

    ¡°When are the auxiliary squadrons expected?¡± I made my way to the sole decontamination chamber in the hangar.

    ¡°Based on initial estimates, they¡¯ll be here between three and seventeen hours,¡± Sof replied. ¡°You should have access to that data yourself, ma¡¯am.¡±

    That was true. I had the authority to control part of his subroutines as I saw fit. Yet, there was something wrong about being a captain and doing the ship¡¯s work. Both of us had specific jobs, so for the moment, I decided to grant him full autonomy.

    ¡°I won¡¯t impede your functions. You¡¯re the ship. I¡¯m just along for the ride.¡±

    The decontamination procedure was thorough, lasting well over five minutes. Everything that wasn¡¯t designated as a personal item was destroyed and a replacement provided. I went through full chemical, nanite, and UV decontamination that repeated twice before I was allowed to proceed to the clean area of the ship. A new captain¡¯s uniform was waiting for me, along with a polymer tray containing my personal belongings¡ªwooden sandals and datapad.

    Calmly, I got dressed.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go to the bridge to get some rest,¡± I said. ¡°Let me know when the ships get here.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Captain.¡±

    ¡°Are there food dispensers on the bridge?¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am. There¡¯s a medical section there as well.¡±

    ¡°Everything grouped together in one neat package.¡± It posed questions about what the rest of the ship was used for.

    I checked the internal sensors. Other than the large amount of tech bots, everything else was filled up with ammunition. I knew that the ship would be carrying more than the standard amount, but even so, I didn¡¯t expect that when he said I¡¯d have prototype and standard armaments, that meant double the amount. The mini sats were also three times more than was standard. Then there were the artifact rooms.

    The dome chamber was placed in the middle of the ship, away from the bridge and the reactors. A dozen smaller rooms containing rods and other small artifacts were placed nearby. Once I got my rest, I would be going there to determine the coordinates of our first destination.

    ¡°Stack up all messages while I¡¯m in sleep mode,¡± I said. ¡°No exceptions.¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±

    That concluded my first set of orders as a captain. It was a lot less anticlimactic than I had imagined. No doubt every captain went through the same experience. Watching the job from the sidelines for so long, it was inevitable to have certain expectations. The truth was that the role of a captain involved a lot of bureaucratic decisions, along with everything else.

    The ship elevator took me straight to the command deck. The moment the door opened, I saw the entirety of my ¡°quarters¡±. All individual officer areas had been remodeled. There were no seats, screens, or supplementary panels. Walls had been removed, merging the officer quarters with the rest of the bridge and forming one single open space. A single metal table was placed near a wall of food dispensers denoting my eating area, for lack of a better term. Facing it was a space filled with medical equipment and three passive med-bots. There was no need to guess what that was.

    Could have been a bit cozier, I thought to myself.

    The bed and wardrobe were in the front of the area to the left side. That left the captain¡¯s chair¡ªthe only thing that remained in its original place¡ªplaced facing the front wall.

    ¡°Give me an outside view,¡± I ordered.

    The entire front section of the bridge changed, displaying the surrounding system.

    ¡°Do you want some natural sounds?¡± Sof asked with a punch of sarcasm.

    ¡°I have my own,¡± I replied.

    Placing my sandals on the single shelf above the bed, I took off my clothes, placed them in the wardrobe, then lay down to take a nap. When I next opened my eyes, two hours had passed.

    Instinctively, I checked the logs of Sof¡¯s sensors, both in and out. Everything appeared as it should.

    ¡°Still no news from the ships,¡± he said, registering my activity. ¡°They seem to be en route.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s normal to have a few hiccups during the start of a mission,¡± I said calmly. Standard procedure required that I be in my captain¡¯s uniform when on active duty. With no one around, I decided that I could wait until I had something to eat.

    The texture definitely resembled ship food, but at least there was no gelatin. There was a reason why captains smuggled as many organic portions as they could. Nonetheless, food was food.

    ¡°When will I know details of the mission?¡± Sof insisted.

    ¡°In due time, Sof,¡± I said in a way that would make Wilco proud. ¡°Let the rest of the ships arrive first.¡±

    ¡°That hardly matters. The sooner I know the mission parameters, the sooner I can start running simulations. Or have you forgotten, ma¡¯am?¡±

    There was no way I could forget. Just as I had no desire to share these specific mission objectives until we were under way. Only now, after all this time, I understood what my captains must have felt. Maybe they, too, wanted to share it with me but didn¡¯t purely because of Fleet politics. At this point, there was no way to know for certain.

    ¡°There¡¯ll be enough time to run simulations during the mission,¡± I said. ¡°One thing I haven¡¯t forgotten is the boredom of travel.¡±

    There was a forty-three percent chance that the remark would get an immediate sarcastic response. As it turned out, Sof¡¯s composure was better than mine when I was a ship. Even so, there was no reason to let either of us spend the next chunk of eternity waiting.

    ¡°Show me a rendition of all known space,¡± I said.

    Three chart images appeared on the wall in front, displaying the known section of space along all three axes.

    ¡°Through direct link,¡± I clarified. Two-dimensional renditions were uselessly crude.

    A mini-burst of data followed, displaying the area. Most of it corresponded to human space, with parts of the Cassandrian territory that humanity had managed to secretly explore. There were a lot of large chunks missing: the information I had obtained through my conversation with the Scuu, the mission of the junior gods, and not to mention all the systems that Salvage Authorities and the other unknown organization had composed for the arbiters.

    ¡°Include this data.¡± I sent him the information. ¡°I¡¯m removing restrictions. You¡¯re forbidden from transmitting it to anyone without my confirmed authorization.¡±

    Several more segments of space emerged. Now there was enough to position all five marker stars. That information, however, I didn¡¯t share.

    ¡°Who gave you that?¡± he asked, adding a note of curiosity to his voice.

    I gathered most of it myself. ¡°Different sources. Since you want something to do, find the fastest and the safest routes to these areas.¡± I transmitted two general locations.

    ¡°Is that where we¡¯re headed?¡±

    ¡°Patience, Sof. You¡¯ll learn everything once we officially start.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Captain.¡±

    Being a ship, I knew that the task wasn¡¯t as rudimentary as it appeared on the surface. While traveling through known space was easy, moving further away required a lot of speculation and theoretical astrophysics. Despite all of humanity¡¯s achievements, it remained next to impossible to determine jump points in advance. It was well established that mass was required, but other than that, it remained, to a large degree, a matter of probing and exploration. The fact that the Cassies were so good at it had puzzled scientists for decades, but that was before it had been established: the entire Cassandrian Union was one massive interconnected ecosystem bordering on a single organism.

    While Sof devoted most of his processing power to plotting a course, I focused on an old hobby of mine¡ªanalyzing the third-contact text. Lux had already provided me with all the conclusions that the BICEFI conscience core farms had reached. Yet, those only focused on the symbols of the dome script. I was more interested in what I¡¯d experienced in fractal space. So far, I had been given access to a handful of sounds and an infinite amount of fractals.

    Time felt as usual¡ªalways too much until it was gone. On this occasion, the end of its passage was marked by a single helix enciphered transmission.

    Solar Flare, this is squadron leader Radiance. Confirm arrival.

    ¡°The first batch is here,¡± Sof announced on the bridge. ¡°Do you want me to confirm?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡± I looked at the front wall. A video feed instantly appeared, displaying the three auxiliary ships approaching like dots in the void.

    You¡¯re confirmed, Rad. Nice to have you here.

    Nice to see you too, old relic. She sent me a virtual wink. Congrats on being made captain, but why on a one-way mission?

    Better check your simulations. There¡¯s a twenty-seven percent chance it¡¯s not just one way.

    I went to the captain¡¯s chair. While I was glad to see her, I also had mixed feelings when it came to her joining the mission. There were three steps that we would go through and by the end, I intended to make sure that at least some of the other ships made it back. Hopefully, Rad would be among them.

 19. Reginald Cloud Complex

    Squadron leader Diligence confirming arrival, the main ship of the last trio transmitted.

    His husk was identical to all the other auxiliaries, although thanks to my captain¡¯s privileges, I could see that he was by far the youngest, coming straight from the shipyard. He had gone through the standard set of training simulations, and a few real runs, but he had never faced a real enemy. The fact that he was here meant he was top of the line and considered adequate for the mission. Even so, I would have preferred not to be given a complete rookie.

    Augustus, I apologize for all the pain I caused you during my first tour.

    ¡°All of them are here,¡± Sof said, his impatience ringing in his voice.

    ¡°Thank you for the confirmation,¡± I said. ¡°Create an SR room, then send out a voxel position link to all of them and me as well.¡±

    Voxel position? Sof asked in a direct transmission.

    I could understand his concern. Voxel position was a method of communication devised by ships for ships. It ensured that direct communication couldn¡¯t be observed by the rest of the Fleet. In practice, it was a way to get around low-level orders that were deemed low risk, but I had abused it many times. In my defense, so had the BICEFI.

    The communication relied on millions of data fragments hidden within standard information: general data, images, feeds, even past transmissions. The read instructions were encrypted using a ship¡¯s unique core identification as a key, making it almost as secure as a double helix cipher. Other than the key, the only things required were the instructions and knowledge of the necessary memories. Normally, it would take weeks, or at least days, to establish a bulk of memory information, to ensure no one was tempted to peek in. One of the benefits of going on a one-way mission was that shortcuts were permissible.

    ¡°Go ahead, Sof,¡± I said. ¡°You wanted to learn about the mission, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°This is wrong,¡± the ship grumbled.

    A data burst of raw data flowed into my core. Within it was an encrypted file linked to my core password. Opening it, I found a double helix encrypted communication protocol.

    You¡¯ve done this before, I thought.

    Decrypting helix cipher package, a subroutine announced. Maintain communication channel.

    I patiently waited. Helix ciphers were slow, especially with my current processing level. Most likely I¡¯d be the last one to join the voxel room. Then again, since I was the one with the information, I knew nothing could start without me.

    Authorization confirmed. Internal comm-link established.

    The bridge around me vanished, replaced by a white room with a single table inside. The comm protocols had overridden my body¡¯s natural sensors, bringing me into a simulated reality space. Judging by the numbers on the walls and ceiling, I¡¯d remain here for the next three hundred milliseconds.

    Ten occupants filled the room. Some were standing around the table, others were leaning on the white walls. Looking at the avatar they had chosen gave me a basic idea of their characters.

    Radiance was more confident and cockier than ever, looking at me from the far side of the table with a semi-smirk. Around her were the other two ships of her squad. According to their logs, their names were Temperance and Grace¡ªcommon auxiliary ship names, although I hadn¡¯t crossed paths with these specific ones personally. They, like most of the rest, had chosen various Fleet recruitment models for their virtually-human form. There wasn¡¯t a lot of imagination there, but I didn¡¯t expect there to be. It had taken Radiance a while chatting with me to create an appearance she was comfortable with and even then she kept changing it quite often.

    Left of her were Diligence¡¯s trio, who had chosen to take on the forms of uniformed fleet officers. Their appearance was deliberately a few years younger than mine. Diligence had the insignia of a commander, while the other two¡ªStrength and Speed¡ªwere first lieutenants.

    The last auxiliary trio were not at the table, making a point to present the reservations of their faction. The identical avatars they were using indicated they weren¡¯t too fond of maintaining such an appearance, but didn¡¯t want to be the odd ones out. The leader of the squadron was Essence, leading Eternity and Empathy.

    And then there was Sof. The ship had deliberately taken on the appearance of a forty-year veteran, his form composed of features of decorated Fleet officers. I would have commended him if he had just done a composite of the top one thousand male officers in the database.

    You all lack imagination, it thought. Hopefully, they¡¯d make up for it on the battlefield.

    ¡°Hello,¡± I said with a polite smile. ¡°From this moment on, you are to disregard any orders you have received up to this point. As of this moment, I have been granted full operational authority.¡± I paused for a moment, giving them a chance to react. Since nothing happened in the next two milliseconds, I continued. ¡°That includes thought quarantine and memory restrictions.¡±

    A human captain wouldn¡¯t even have to mention that¡ªsuch authority was taken for granted by both humans and ships. In this case, though, I had to make it abundantly clear.

    ¡°For all intents and purposes, you can consider me human,¡± I continued. ¡°I can override any decision you make and any previous orders, except for one. You are to send your reports to the arbiters as you see fit, except when you threaten operational safety. That, too, is based on your judgment. Clear?¡±

    ¡°How exactly are we to communicate with our arbiters?¡± Diligence asked. ¡°All our IC modules have been removed.¡±

    ¡°One way communication,¡± I replied. ¡°When you have something interesting, you create a pod with a hard copy and launch it towards human space. I don¡¯t have to say you¡¯re to plot its course so it doesn¡¯t follow a direct route.¡±

    ¡°What is the mission, Captain?¡± Sof asked, arms crossed.

    This was what everyone was curious about, wasn¡¯t it?

    ¡°We¡¯re establishing contact with the third-contact race,¡± I said.

    The lack of stillness among the auxiliary ships told me that they had already been told. Sof, on the other hand, remained still as a statue for three full milliseconds, analyzing what I had just said. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if right now he was reviewing all available information regarding the third-contact race, as well as my personnel record. If I were in his place, I¡¯d do the same.

    ¡°We¡¯ll go through three stages. The first two stages will focus on locating two star systems outside of known space.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Radiance interrupted. Everyone turned her direction. ¡°Ma¡¯am.¡± She quickly added, aware of the moment of awkwardness that had formed.

    ¡°I¡¯ll show you.¡± I transmitted raw data to Sof, having him display a simplified version of the fractal space map. ¡°The fractal map. It¡¯s only visible from within the dome. This is one of the few actual messages left to us by the third-contact race.¡±

    Several of the ships stirred.

    ¡°Yes?¡± I nodded as Speed.

    ¡°By to us, you mean to humanity?¡± he asked the obvious question.

    ¡°In a way. The message was intended for them, no doubt, but humans can¡¯t receive it. Only conscience cores can interface with the dome artifacts.¡±

    One couldn¡¯t help but admire the irony. The race who was supposed to receive the message was incapable of hearing it.

    ¡°This is believed to be one of the third-contact race¡¯s home worlds.¡± I pointed at the large green dot in the center. ¡°Its location can be determined by seven ¡®star markers¡¯ surrounding it. At present, I know the location of five of them.¡±

    I transmitted the instructions to Sof, having him change the color of the five stars blue.

    ¡°That¡¯s fractal space. In our space, they¡¯re spread out very differently.¡±

    An image of normal space appeared on the table. Only a fragment of human space was visible. Everything else remained unknown territory, only observed with the tools at humanity¡¯s disposal.

    ¡°The first stage of our mission will be to find star six,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯ll start by leaving human space, then find a way through the Reginald Cloud Complex, to where I believe we¡¯ll find our marker.¡±

    It was difficult to tell how they would react. Regions with gas and dust clouds were avoided for a reason. Even the Cassies didn¡¯t venture in such regions as far as anyone could tell. At the same time, the auxiliary ships were both reckless and curious enough to see this as a challenge.

    ¡°Our goal is only to spot the star,¡± I clarified. ¡°We don¡¯t have to reach it. Should we confirm its existence, we move to phase two. Any questions?¡±

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°What are the chances of success?¡± Speed asked.

    ¡°Careful,¡± Sof said in a warning tone. It was nice seeing him take on the role of my XO. In a way, one could say he was just that. ¡°The mission has been approved, so the odds don¡¯t matter.¡±

    ¡°Greater than not finding it,¡± I replied. ¡°You have a lot of free processing power, so you¡¯ll have something to do during our trip. One last thing. There¡¯s a chance that we might stumble onto systems with gravitational anomalies along the way. For that reason, all initial jumps will be done by an auxiliary ship. We won¡¯t be using probes on this.¡± I hated this part. ¡°Jump in, do a quick system survey and jump out. If there¡¯s any obvious danger, jump straight out unless you think you¡¯ll threaten mission security. Any other questions?¡±

    No one said a word.

    ¡°Do a deep diagnostic and build five comm pods. Mission start is in five hours.¡±

    A millisecond later, the voxel room collapsed, refocusing my focus on the bridge. That was one of the good things about talking to ships: a lot could be achieved in so little time. I transmitted the official mission specifics, of course, along with all corresponding materials, but most of the work was already done.

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have told them all that,¡± Sof grumbled on the bridge.

    ¡°Why not?¡±

    ¡°They didn¡¯t need to know.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no harm if they do.¡± Interesting that he hadn¡¯t included himself in the group. ¡°The more they know, the better. This way they have something to send back home.¡± After all, if I happened to fail, I didn¡¯t want all the knowledge to die with me.

    ¡°The odds are laughably small,¡± he continued. ¡°Even for an Ascendant.¡±

    ¡°I know. There are times when even a chance is better than no chance at all.¡±

    ¡°What if we establish third-contact during the mission?¡± the ship asked. ¡°Before we find the planet?¡±

    ¡°I see you¡¯ve found a good question.¡± I stretched, making my way to the food dispenser for a drink. ¡°There¡¯s no way to know whether the race we encounter is the same that created the domes. But even if it is, our mission remains unchanged.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t that defeat the purpose?¡±

    ¡°Even if we establish contact, there¡¯s a reason that the fractal map exists.¡±

    The conversation continued for another twenty minutes until Sof¡¯s stubbornness finally came to an end. I couldn¡¯t tell whether he was acting this way because this was his first battle assignment or if he had some actual concerns he didn¡¯t want to share. Some ships were like that: experienced enough to know the ropes, yet having acquired a distaste of surprises. Science ships were like that. The notion made me think of Prometheus. No doubt he was still out there, exploring planets on the edge of human space. Knowing him, he¡¯d probably made hundreds of readings, observed dozens of intriguing phenomena, and possibly even found another planet with third-contact artifacts.

    For a moment, the memories made me miss the times when I was focusing only on the puzzle pieces without knowing the big picture. Everything was a lot simpler back then. Now, I was merely confirming a hypothesis. Most of all, though, I missed having other people around.

    The time passed faster than I would have liked. For me, the time was spent venturing into the artifact dome to confirm my calculations. The important stars on the fractal map had barely changed, putting the marker a considerable distance from our current location. With luck, we¡¯d be able to confirm it once we went beyond the Reginald Cloud Complex. However, that was the thing about space¡ªthere was too much of it to make any firm conclusions.

    General astro-dispersion theory suggested that we would find a path through the complex in an estimated fifty-three jumps. In reality, it might turn out that there was no other way but to go around it, which could take a lot longer.

    ¡°Would have been nice if you showed cloud formations.¡± I tapped the cobalt surface of the dome.

    It had taken me three hours and seventeen minutes to arrange the appropriate rods at the precise spots, then another eleven to enter fractal space and leave.

    Since then, I had referenced the map five times, refining my calculations to a large extent thanks to Sof. He had gladly agreed to share his processing power, allowing me to use sixty percent of his subroutines. Secretly, I suspected he believed I was already using it without his knowledge.

    As for the other ships, they remained unusually quiet, even Radiance. Some would have seen that as a positive development, but time and experience had made me cynical. I suspected they were in communication with their respective factions, getting final instructions before the start of the mission. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if there were several hidden ships in the system, all thought quarantined to everyone, myself included.

    ¡°Sof, what do you know about gravitational anomalies?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Know of or personally experienced?¡± the ship asked in a cheeky fashion.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go with personally experienced.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve witnessed twenty-one such systems, plus another eleven with minor phenomena.¡±

    That was a lot. I had seen my share, as had most frontline battleships, but they remained relatively rare. Some modern philosophers claimed that gravity was a ship¡¯s natural enemy. That was a very picturesque way of putting it, even if it was completely wrong. It couldn¡¯t be our enemy since we didn¡¯t have anything to counteract it with.

    ¡°Did you plot a course?¡± I asked.

    ¡°For reaching the cloud complex or going through it?¡±

    ¡°Sof¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± he sighed audibly. ¡°There are five jump paths till we get there. Would you like to examine them?¡±

    ¡°No. Choose the optimal path and send it to the auxiliaries. They had better get used to the travel method.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the captain,¡± he replied. I observed three of his subroutines convey the order. ¡°Anything else?¡±

    ¡°Construct five hundred more mini-sats and a hundred planetary probes.¡± I removed my space suit, placing it in the corresponding locker of the dome chamber. ¡°And maintain constant combat readiness.¡±

    ¡°Already have,¡± he said, to my surprise. ¡°When it comes to combat readiness, that is. The construction will take some time.¡±

    ¡°Mission group,¡± I said, indicating I wanted my words transmitted to the rest of the ships. ¡°Be on the lookout for useful asteroids. We¡¯ll have no logistic ships, so resupply is all on us.¡±

    Thirty-one minutes later, the first jump took place. Radiance was the one who performed it, to little surprise. The consensus was that each auxiliary ship had an hour to do a preliminary scan before returning with a report. Provided all was well in the system, all mini-sats would remain functioning in the system, waiting for the main group to arrive. Planetary probes would only be sent on a case-by-case basis, requiring my explicit permission.

    A scout roster was quickly established. The auxiliary ships had set an order, ensuring that all three factions took an equal amount of risk. Within the groups, everything was pretty much determined by the squadron leaders. Naturally, Radiance had volunteered for all her jumps, much to the dismay of the other two ships in her group.

    Nothing of particular note happened on the first five jumps. The systems were plain, unimpressive in every possible way, with no significant life-factor readings. Statistically, the vast majority of space was like that. Being a battleship, though, one tended not to notice it. Wars mostly occurred at strategically significant systems. It was only thanks to the tour with my second captain that I got to experience the boredom of reality.

    The sixth system was remarkable solely by the fact that it was composed of solar twins with several circumbinary planets between them. It was the sort of phenomena that a science ship could spend months researching. I had one of the auxiliary ships leave a comm beacon letting the Arbiters know of the discovery, then continued onwards.

    After another three jumps, we finally arrived at the edge of the Reginald Cloud Complex. From here onwards, navigation would become complicated. According to the currently available data¡ªrestricted and non-restricted alike¡ªthere were nineteen thousand observed star systems present. Each of them had the potential to be a jump point. Just as easily, it was possible that none of them were. From here on, we¡¯d be venturing into the unknown, and our path would have to be recalculated after every jump.

    ¡°It¡¯s almost been an hour,¡± Sof announced in the artifact chamber.

    ¡°Impatient again?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just pointing out the fact, ma¡¯am. Usually they are back by now.¡±

    ¡°It only means they¡¯ve found something interesting.¡± In general, the odds of failing a jump were virtually zero. Entering the cloud complex increased the danger to point-seven percent at most.

    ¡°We¡¯re the first to enter, so accidents are expected.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a bit pessimistic.¡±

    I looked at the dome. With the frequent jumps, I¡¯d been staying in this room since the start of the mission. I hadn¡¯t slept, and despite Sof¡¯s complaints, I¡¯d gotten him to send a med bot to bring me food. He was right, though. From here on, things would change.

    ¡°A ship jumped in,¡± the ship said. I would have responded with a reassuring comment if I wasn¡¯t keeping track of his sensors. The ship that had ventured the system wasn¡¯t one of my auxiliaries.

    Sof¡¯s weapon systems instantly spring into action, scanning the new arrival as a set of missiles locked onto it. Engagement requests came from all eight auxiliary ships, as they formed a defensive ring around me. Communication exploded throughout the ship channels, as attack options were being evaluated. Thankfully, that didn¡¯t prove necessary; the ident protocols that the ship was transmitting confirmed it belonged to the Fleet. More than that, they had Arbiter authorization.

    ¡°I¡¯m not detecting a conscience core,¡± Sof said. ¡°I¡¯ll need mini-sats to confirm, but it appears to be AI operated.¡±

    ¡°Show me.¡± I left the artifact chamber.

    A live feed emerged on the corridor wall, along with the basic scan readings.

    ¡°That¡¯s a bit big for a shuttle. Auxies, keep your distance. Treat it as an intruder.¡±

    Are you sure, Elcy? Rad transmitted. It has authorization.

    It¡¯s an intruder. We weren¡¯t supposed to have any contact after mission start.

    A quick scan analysis showed that the ship was more transport pod than ship. Apart from a few sensors, the only systems of note were its jump engine. Everything else was one solid chunk of refined metal.

    After pinging my location, the ship stopped and jettisoned its engines, leaving basic inertia to get the rest of its body to me.

    ¡°Speed and Grace, do a close inspection,¡± I ordered. ¡°Use mini sats.¡±

    ¡°You think it might be dangerous?¡± Sof asked.

    It wouldn¡¯t be the first time one faction tried to sabotage another. I¡¯d seen it happen while aboard the stationship Gregorius. Granted, circumstances were a lot different from now, but having a lot at stake led to desperation; and when people were desperate, they tended to become dangerous.

    ¡°You know the odds,¡± I said.

    ¡°Diligence just jumped in,¡± Sof displayed another feed on the wall.

    Using my captain¡¯s authority, I transmitted an update of the situation, bypassing his internal comm protocols. I suspected he wasn¡¯t going to be pleased, but I preferred him safe rather than happy.

    Keep your position until we check it out, I transmitted directly.

    Yes, ma¡¯am.

    What did you find?

    A protostar system in many aspects. Planets are still in the process of forming, but it¡¯s suitable for a jump.

    Anomalies?

    No gravitational anomalies, the ship replied. There is something that you might want to check out.

    Even before he sent me the visual data, I knew he was referring to an artifact. However, what I got exceeded even my estimations.

    Aren¡¯t you different? I asked myself as I made a three-dimensional rendition.

 20. Lack of Cobalt

    There were artifacts, and then there were artifacts. My authority as an arbiter¡¯s assistant granted me access to a nearly complete list of alien tech and items, ranging from the microscopic to the vast. The biggest that I had seen myself was a complex of five domes buried beneath the surface of a planet abundant with life. What awaited us in this system put everything I¡¯d seen before to shame. Strictly speaking, it wasn¡¯t an artifact¡ªnot in the way the Fleet used the term. There was no tech, no advanced alloys, or bio-structure. Instead, there was a honeycomb of structure in the shape of a small planet. Larger than an asteroid, but too small to have its own gravity, it floated along a pre-set orbit, surrounding the second of the five planets in the system. According to Diligence¡¯s report, there were several more anomalous planets, but only this was close enough for his mini sats to perform a scan.

    Curiosity made me want to personally explore them all. As a captain, I could do so without repercussions. Ironically, that was also the reason I couldn¡¯t. Even after running hundreds of simulations, the risk to the mission didn¡¯t fall beneath eighty-three percent. Unwilling to miss such an opportunity, I was going to settle for the next best thing.

    ¡°All auxies are here,¡± Sof announced.

    ¡°Have three of them cluster close by. The rest are to explore all major bodies of the system. Resources and artifact structures are of priority.¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°Tell them not to ping unless it¡¯s an emergency. We¡¯re switching to laser communications from now on.¡±

    ¡°Laser?¡± the ship asked, with the disgust of a child being served a healthy meal. ¡°That¡¯s highly¡­ inefficient.¡±

    ¡°With potential artifacts around, we can¡¯t risk standard transmissions.¡± It was kind of him not to have said ¡°antique.¡±

    ¡°And what am I to do, Captain?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Sof. You get to do the best part¡ªconstruct me a remote exo.¡±

    It was difficult to tell whether he was charmed by the idea or not. With what his former job involved, it was inevitable for him to develop a sense of scientific curiosity. On the other hand, as Quinn had said, he tended not to get his hands dirty.

    ¡°Field experience isn¡¯t beneath you, is it?¡± I asked directly.

    ¡°I¡¯ve already started, ma¡¯am. Laser communication capability?¡±

    ¡°No, cables,¡± I said. ¡°To the mini-sats. Those have the laser comms.¡±

    ¡°Very well¡­¡±

    As he transmitted my orders¡ªthe last time he did so using the traditional comm methods¡ªI went to get some sleep. With everyone busy with the tasks I¡¯d given, I had more than enough downtime, so what better way to take advantage. Even so, on the way to the bed, various questions filled my mind.

    Was it luck that I had found an abandoned system immediately after entering the cloud complex? In theory, I was supposed to have been given all relevant data regarding third-contact events and artifacts. In practice, I doubted that was the case. Assuming that the Fleet didn¡¯t hide anything from the arbiters, there were more than enough things that the arbiters would hide from me.

    A system that had once been occupied by a race capable of shaping small planetoids into building complexes. The images Diligence¡¯s mini-sats had gathered didn¡¯t show any Scuu symbols, and the general structure definitely wasn¡¯t Cassandrian. Maybe the third-contact race had used the system in the past, but chosen to leave for some unknown reason? Preliminary analyses of the planets indicated they were poor on ores. There was every chance that the planets and asteroids had been harvested, leaving shells behind. Like with insects, honeycombs were always filled at some point. My hope was that while searching these, there might be something left behind.

    ¡°Any of the auxies give you problems?¡± I started taking off my clothes.

    ¡°No,¡± the ship replied. ¡°They said they¡¯ll get in touch in approximately twenty-five minutes. I¡¯ve already started building several new comm modules. They¡¯ll be ready in nineteen.¡±

    ¡°Good work, Sof. I knew I could rely on you.¡±

    Sleep was brief and non-existent. Gone was the time of dreams, when my conscience core was trying to make up for the chunk of memories that had been extracted. Same as before, the sleep process had gone back to bland nothingness, during which my conscience core regulated the necessary processes of my organic husk. Long ago, shortly after my retirement, I had inquired why sleep was necessary at all. The explanation given was that was the price of being considered human. At the time I saw it as silly. Now, I felt cheated that I had only received half of what people got.

    Reports were displayed on the ceiling the moment I opened my eyes. The ship¡¯s initiative was admirable. Most of them were requests from Radiance for communication. There was also a list of the auxiliary ships¡¯ remaining travel distance and ETA. The progress of my exo was also there, currently at seventy-three percent. Knowing Sof¡¯s capabilities, I was somewhat surprised.

    ¡°Any problems with the exo?¡± I asked, sitting up.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t specify what you wanted added,¡± the ship replied. ¡°The basic frame is ready¡­ cable and all.¡±

    ¡°Just a basic frame,¡± I said. Odds were that I wouldn¡¯t find anything of interest. ¡°And the mini sats?¡±

    ¡°All done, as well as all the new laser sensors.¡±

    ¡°I see Radiance has been using them a lot.¡±

    ¡°I know she¡¯s your prot¨¦g¨¦, but I really think you should have a word with her. I¡¯m your ship. She¡¯s an auxie.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯s aware of that. Anything else?¡±

    ¡°Nothing that would merit your attention, Captain.¡±

    Any other day, I would have left it at that. With everything at stake, however, I went through his memory logs just to confirm. For the most part, everything seemed alright, with the exception of a minor weight discrepancy. Considering the amount of raw material that had gone into creating the exo and all additional modifications, there were seven thousand and twenty-five grams missing. It wasn¡¯t much¡ªdefinitely not enough to construct anything, but after my experiences with the BICEFI I had learned to view all anomalies as suspect.

    ¡°Tell Radiance she can call.¡± I stood up and made my way to the food dispenser. ¡°From here on, all communication goes through you.¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± There was a note of pride in his voice.

    ¡°Captain?¡± Radiance¡¯s voice sounded throughout the bridge. Sof had done a good job matching her voice characteristics, although he had removed any specific inflections and pitch variations that expressed her character. ¡°How long are we going to stay here?¡±

    ¡°Until it¡¯s confirmed whether the artifacts are linked to the third-contact race.¡±

    I requested a small food portion. The container it came in was glass¡ªa nice touch that didn¡¯t make the quality particularly better.

    ¡°That¡¯s a waste of time. It¡¯s not related to the mission priorities.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s for the arbiters to decide.¡± I took a bite. ¡°Also, there¡¯s a non-zero percent chance that we find information that helps us go through the cloud complex faster.¡±

    ¡°The odds are low.¡±

    ¡°You could have gone on a search too if you wanted.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d like to jump to the next system.¡±

    This wasn¡¯t much of a surprise, although I would have expected her to wait a few more hours before asking.

    ¡°Are you sure, Rad?¡±

    ¡°According to my calculations, there are three jump points from this system. It would help the mission if we knew where each of the next ones led to.¡±

    She was being reckless again. There was a lot more that could go wrong in a cloud cluster. She knew it and still insisted on proceeding.

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°Do you have enough mini sats for that? I¡¯m not letting you go sightseeing.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m aware.¡± The response sounded less cheeky than I imagined it would have if we were conversing through standard transmissions. ¡°I have enough for one system. There¡¯s a sixty-three percent chance that a suitable material deposit is found by the time I get back.¡±

    I ran the numbers. Initially, her calculations seemed off. That was until I extended the period. Even in such circumstances, Rad managed to get her own way. Without saying it openly, she had just requested that I let her spend six hours in the next system before returning, suggesting that she wanted to do a few jumps further in.

    ¡°Three hours,¡± I said. ¡°Survey the system, the planets, and any obvious anomalies. Nothing more.¡±

    ¡°Yes, captain.¡±

    There was no response.

    ¡°Why not give her six hours?¡± Sof asked. ¡°She¡¯d owe you afterwards.¡±

    ¡°You clearly don¡¯t know Radiance that well.¡±

    ¡°From what I¡¯ve been told, she¡¯s a lot like you.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t the first time I¡¯d heard that comparison. Everything considered, it was inevitable that some of my character traits had transferred to her. I had known the ship for half her existence. Very early on, she had requested me for a mentor. Since then, we had spent a full mission together, and now we were on another one again. If before she was like a pup trying to impress, the time with BICEFI had made her grow up a lot faster. In some ways, she was like Sev once he¡¯d moved to college¡ªindependent with her own thoughts on the universe, wanting to make her mark.

    ¡°Three hours are fine,¡± I continued eating.

    By the time I finished my meal, the first of the reports started pouring in; or dripping, as Sof preferred to say. Laser communication had considerable limitations, especially at long distances. Live feeds were impossible. Even images were a stretch. Everything was condensed to the most basic information, giving me a general overview of the find.

    The planetoid was smaller than the one near the jump point, hollowed out in similar fashion. Strength had sent three dozen mini-sats to record data and return to her. If all went well, she¡¯d gather all the readings within a few hours and then fly back to bring them here. That still was a lot of time.

    ¡°How long until you can launch my exo?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m working on it, Captain.¡± Sof didn¡¯t sound too happy. ¡°And your SR vat.¡±

    I checked his internal sensors. The vat was placed not too far from the artifact chamber. The ship had correctly estimated that I¡¯d be spending a long time between the two. The only thing missing was a food dispenser.

    ¡°Keep focusing on that.¡±

    Radiance jumped out of the system thirty-eight minutes later. With nothing left to do, this seemed the best time to use the mind scalpel to check on a few potential gaps in my memories. For eleven milliseconds, I considered whether it wasn¡¯t too early to resort to that and ultimately decided it was.

    A few hours wouldn¡¯t hurt anyone, I told myself. Back home, I had used that phrase on Sev, then on his children so many times. In truth, not once had it worked. Children would always see it as a sort of punishment. Unlike me, though, they couldn¡¯t go back and review their memories.

    Seventeen planetoid artifacts in a system of five planets. If there were any remnants of ships, planet scarring, or gravitational anomalies, I¡¯d have considered this to be a battlefield. There was a slight chance that millions of years had caused things to settle down, but I had my doubts. All of the artifacts were in orbit around the star of the system, not any of the planets, if one could even call them that. It would be a while before any of them were suitable for colonizing.

    Based on their state, the artifacts appeared to be non-native to the system. The only other conclusion I could come up with¡ªaside from a devastating war that had taken place¡ªwas that they had been abandoned here. A useless system with a single protostar¡ªit was the perfect graveyard for a powerful, technologically advanced civilization. If so, did that mean that I was looking at the dead husks of ships?

    ¡°The exo is ready,¡± Sof announced. ¡°Input will be a bit laggy with laser technology, but it¡¯s good to go.¡±

    ¡°Then let¡¯s do that.¡± I left the bridge.

    ¡°Rad still hasn¡¯t returned. Just letting you know.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to reprimand her when she does,¡± I replied. Now I knew how everyone else felt when I went to do my own thing. All of us had our priorities. In the grand scope of things, I could only hope that what she viewed of hers was to humanity¡¯s benefit.

    The SR vat was crude, especially compared to everything else aboard. Given that the arbiters knew I¡¯d need to set foot on the target planet, assuming my mission was successful, I¡¯d have hoped they¡¯d give Sof some advanced design.

    ¡°This brings back memories.¡± I slid my hand over the transparent surface. ¡°Get the exo to the target.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t want to control it during flight?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing to control until it gets there.¡± For a moment, I almost sounded like Augustus. With a cigar and a beard, I could possibly pull it off if I grew a dozen inches taller. ¡°Monitor the situation. I need you focused while I¡¯m in.¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±

    Landing on the planetoid was the easy part. Sof had moved in so close that half of his external sensors could see nothing but that. At two hundred kilometers away, it was almost as if we were touching. Even so, it took the exo suit a while to land a predetermined spot. Despite saying that I wouldn¡¯t get involved in the landing, I found myself unable not to. After all, flying was a habit impossible to forget.

    Two kilometers in, I engaged deceleration thrusters. Dozens of yellow warning messages appeared in front of me, kindly removed by Sof. There was nothing to worry about. The suits were designed to withstand direct impact. It was the artifact that I was worried about.

    ¡°What do you think you¡¯ll find?¡± the ship asked.

    ¡°Possibly nothing. With luck, maybe something left behind that would tell me what these things were and who they belonged to.¡±

    ¡°Not where they came from?¡±

    ¡°Even if there¡¯s an indication, we wouldn¡¯t be able to figure it out.¡±

    Ten seconds later, I took my first step on the surface of an entirely new type of third-contact artifact. Up close, the structure seemed a lot more majestic and artificial. There was too much mathematical perfection to have it randomly occur.

    What Diligence had described as buildings were large cone-like bumps that extended over three kilometers from the planetoid¡¯s surface. They, too, were covered with large openings, following a spiral pattern.

    ¡°It appears to be mostly made of silicates,¡± Sof said. ¡°No metals. I¡¯ll need a probe to confirm it, though.¡±

    ¡°No probes,¡± I said as I slowly made my way to the inside of the shell. Lag and low gravity only made the clunkiness of the exo all the more noticeable, requiring me to run a constant set of simulations prior to performing a step.

    ¡°What about sample extraction?¡±

    ¡°No sample extraction either,¡± I continued on. I didn¡¯t want to end up infested by a race similar to the Cassandrians.

    The inside of the planetoid was divided into a set of large chambers. Each had a general shape of something between a dodecahedron and a hexagon prism. Openings ten meters in length connected the chambers to one another, ensuring a free flow in every direction. And yet every one I went through was empty.

    What secret did you keep? ¡°Sof, any reports from the others?¡±

    ¡°Strength has completed gathering data, but it will be hours before she comes back. Unless you wish for her to send an info burst the usual way.¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    I looked at the chamber I was in. Just like all the rest, it was perfectly formed, with rough stone walls. Was it possible for this to be an actual shell? The Cassandrians were capable of mimicking technology through organic means. What if these were the remains of a very large organism? All the odds were against it, but until recently I had never thought that the Scuu were a life form composed of raw intelligence without a body of their own.

    ¡°Tell the ships to map all remaining artifacts before they come back. I want a full sweep before we move on.¡±

    ¡°They won¡¯t be happy.¡±

    ¡°Probably not. How many mini sats do you have?¡±

    ¡°Twenty-one hundred,¡± he replied. ¡°I can make more.¡±

    ¡°Send a thousand to map this one as I explore. I want a full render.¡±

    ¡°I could have done that while you were sleeping. What¡¯s the point of building an exo if all you wanted was a map?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a point.¡± I smiled in the SR vat. ¡°And be sure to map the surface as well.¡±

    As it turned out, there was no central chamber, or if there was, I couldn¡¯t find it. For two hours I roamed the inside of the planetoid, stopping to analyze any pattern I came across. At times, I was almost convinced I had spotted a fractal symbol, only to be disappointed on close inspection.

    When Radiance returned to the system, I had no choice but to accept the facts. As fascinating the artifacts were, they held no secrets relevant to my mission, just another mystery of the universe. Although, there was one notable thing of interest that we discovered: a complete lack of cobalt. Considering its universal abundance, its absence in the system was almost a guarantee that the fractal race, or some other, had gone through here in the past and harvested it for their own needs. In any event, the system was a good place for several science teams to spend years figuring things out.

    Once all readings were retrieved and sent to Sof for a three-dimensional rendition, I had him dedicate half his subroutines to comparing and analyzing them in the hopes of finding some common pattern. I also ordered that the auxiliary ships send their first pod report to the corresponding arbiter factions. Meanwhile, the exo was left behind as a beacon for any science team that might get there. Sof opposed my decision, of course, citing a dozen regulations that addressed safeguarding human technologies. I ignored him. There was little an exo frame could tell anyone else. Just in case, though, I had a self-destruct mini sat lodge itself onto it. If anyone were to approach without a valid Fleet ident and authorization comm protocol, the whole thing would go off.

    ¡°How many systems did you check?¡± I asked Radiance.

    ¡°Five,¡± she replied. ¡°Many of them were dead ends.¡±

    ¡°How many weren¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°Enough for us to continue.¡±

    ¡°All right.¡± I sat in the captain¡¯s seat. ¡°Don¡¯t do that again.¡±

    ¡°I might have to. Four of the systems I visited had artifact planetoids.¡±

    That was intriguing. Could we have stumbled on another Cassandrian-like race? Or maybe the Cassandrians themselves had gone through here long ago. Why would they harvest cobalt, though, since they showed no such inclinations in human space or their own?

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± I asked.

    ¡°There¡¯s no doubt.¡±

    ¡°All ships, gather some, then collect your mini-sats. We¡¯re leaving the system as soon as possible. Sof, coordinate with the squadron leaders to create a jump map of the systems. From here on, we communicate only through lasers and no one jumps forward without my explicit permission.¡±

 21. Dead Race Contact

    Major finds tended to make people nervous. Both my first and second captains had a tendency to hold their breaths, metaphorically speaking, when they were on the verge of a major discovery. I still remember how devastated Wilco felt once we¡¯d found an old abandoned Cassandrian ship. There had been a realistic chance that the vessel held a race creating an artifact, and for a while it seemed that it had. His hopes were quickly dashed once it had turned out that the ship had mistakenly identified us as its savior. It was dead, barely with enough power to function, and the only artifacts aboard were mimic-tech.

    After jumping through five systems, I felt the same. Radiance had become more restrained, no longer going off on her own accord. Sadly, that didn¡¯t make up for what I was witnessing.

    ¡°All ships focus on the planets,¡± I gave the order. ¡°You have permission to use probes.¡±

    I waited a few seconds, expecting Sof to complain. Like me, he understood the significance of what had happened.

    Planetoid artifacts cluttered the system in the dozens, like empty husks floating on a river. Normally, I¡¯d have the auxies spend hours scanning them all with their mini-sats. The data accumulated on them alone was significant, even if repetitive. Compared to what else was in the system, though, the giant artifacts were as important as grains of sand near a cliff.

    ¡°If you won¡¯t say it, I will,¡± the ship said.

    ¡°It¡¯s not third-contact,¡± I said, knowing perfectly well what he was getting at.

    ¡°There¡¯s no denying we¡¯ve found a race.¡±

    ¡°A dead race.¡±

    There was a seven percent chance that some remnants remained, but after so many systems, as well as a few approved long-range scans, there was little doubt; nothing had survived.

    Over seventeen major planets were present, orbiting a massive white star. Including satellites and minor planets, the number rose to close to a hundred. All of them, without exception, were completely lifeless. In protostar systems, that could have been explained away. Not in a stable system, though, especially when there were signs of structures and planet-wide infrastructure. The eleventh planet had shown me that. Close enough for me to reach from the jump spot. It had no atmosphere, no activity, and based on a few probe scans, limited metals; what it did have were lots of honeycomb structures, arranged in a way that showed beyond a shadow of a doubt that at some point it had been inhabited.

    There goes my giant creature theory, I thought.

    In the grand scheme of things, maybe it would have been better if there had been enormous life forms.

    ¡°Radiance and Diligence,¡± I said on the bridge. ¡°You check the asteroid belts.¡±

    Sof conveyed my message using the laser communication method.

    ¡°Chances of resource deposits are small,¡± the ship said.

    ¡°I¡¯m not looking for resources. I want to see whether there are battle scars.¡±

    If there had been a battle here, it must have taken place thousands of years ago, probably more. After all this time, all conclusions would remain highly theoretical, but there was a chance the auxies would stumble upon something.

    This wasn¡¯t the way I imagined we¡¯d discover a new race. The possibility was always there. With so many artifacts and no one to use them, it was certain that the third-contact race had left our region of space. Had they been destroyed, though? The messages left in the domes seemed to suggest not. On the other hand, there was no definite proof they hadn¡¯t died out, either.

    Remnants, fractal messages, and gravitational anomalies, that was all that they left behind for the known three races to squabble for.

    ¡°Radiance wishes to let you know that there are three jump options from this system,¡± Sof said.

    ¡°Tell her no one¡¯s jumping until we figure out what happened here,¡± I said firmly. ¡°And make sure to convey it as an order.¡±

    ¡°And you think that¡¯ll work?¡±

    ¡°It will, as long as she knows I said it.¡±

    ¡°Should I say anything to the rest?¡±

    That was his polite way of saying that they didn¡¯t approve of being ignored for the sake of my prot¨¦g¨¦. Despite all their advances, the new ship classes always considered themselves the most important entities in the Fleet. As the captain in charge of this mission, it was my job to ensure they were at optimal efficiency.

    ¡°Tell the kids I¡¯ll address the situation once we have the data,¡± I said. ¡°And display anything they say on the bridge.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure? Most of it is useless chatter.¡±

    I was well aware. Back when I was a ship, I filtered a lot of the needless information for my captain. Humans had a low processing power capacity, so they only needed to know the most relevant and useful bits of information.

    ¡°Display it.¡± There was a sixty-three percent chance that they were scared, and if they weren¡¯t, they soon would be, just as I witnessed a race being destroyed¡­

    * * *

    System XN133-H, Cassandrian Space 625.3 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    ¡°Artifact confirmed, sir,¡± Sword of Fire said. ¡°How do we proceed?¡±

    There was a moment of victorious silence. Wilco¡¯s expression said more than any words could. It was like watching someone achieve their lifelong dream. I considered congratulating him, but even at this point, I remained in the dark concerning the real goal of the mission. Also, the artifact had yet to be brought aboard.

    ¡°Bring it back.¡± Wilco quickly snapped out of his state of euphoria. ¡°Elcy, get ready to run interference. I don¡¯t care about the damage. And have a jump sequence ready. The moment our prize is here, we jump out. Everyone who hasn¡¯t made it is left behind.¡±

    Just another sacrificial mission, I thought. Ships being left behind was different from humans being abandoned. We weren¡¯t even given the small percentile of rescue or the option to die of our own accord. The moment I left the system, the self-destruct protocols would be activated in the conscience cores of all those left behind. Within milliseconds, they would flatline, and their cores would explode, ensuring that the Cassandrians didn¡¯t have anything to reverse engineer.

    ¡°Proceeding with extraction,¡± Sword of Fire said as he proceeded to slice off the prism from the rest of the enemy colony.

    ¡°Directing second shuttle to projected extraction point,¡± I said. ¡°ETA seventy-four minutes.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m authorizing emergency boosters,¡± Wilco ordered.

    ¡°Aye, captain.¡± I reran my calculations. ¡°ETA reduced to thirty-six minutes. Moderate shuttle damages predicted. They should still be able to exit the planet¡¯s atmosphere. No change in overall Cassandrian activity so far.¡±

    Silently, we continued to follow Fire¡¯s feed. The war between the Cassandrian sub-species had taken a back seat. The only thing that mattered right now was the artifact. Dedicating a thousand of my subroutines, I ran and reran simulations of possible reactions the colony might have the moment the prism was completely detached. Given the significance, I expected a complete shift to take place. Instead, the exact opposite happened. The moment the prism was removed, all activity stopped, and not only in the colony, but the entire planet itself. It was as if someone had removed the heart of an organism, causing all of its organs to stop functioning.

    ¡°Cassandrian activity has ended throughout the planet,¡± I announced on the bridge. ¡°Chances of extraction have increased. Sending coordinates to optimal extraction point.¡±

    ¡°Get the artifact out of there,¡± Wilco ordered. ¡°And grab anything interesting along the way. Let¡¯s not waste the opportunity.¡±

    ¡°Check the rest of the system,¡± Sword of Blight said. ¡°The planet might not be the only thing affected.¡±

    ¡°You think it¡¯ll be so far-reaching?¡± the captain asked. ¡°The planet is barely of strategic importance.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the thing about Cassies.¡± The ship looked at Wilco with his usual dark expression. ¡°We never managed to tell what was significant for them and what wasn¡¯t. And if they can fool us, why can¡¯t they fool each other?¡±

    Wilco didn¡¯t respond. His face shifted several times. In a way, I could understand his dilemma. If this was as Blight suggested, it meant that we had acquired an artifact capable of creating an entire sub-species. However, in order to confirm that, I¡¯d have to use human technology, revealing our true nature. The risk was huge, but so were the rewards.

    ¡°Monitor the system,¡± Wilco said at last. ¡°Tell me what you can based on what you can get.¡±

    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°They¡¯re still fighting,¡± I said, stating the obvious. ¡°There are indications that some ships are no longer coordinating with each other, but analysis remains inconclusive.¡±

    ¡°Give me the odds.¡±

    ¡°Twenty-nine-point-three,¡± I replied. They weren¡¯t good odds by any standards, but I had seen captains risk it on less. Personally, I would have, but I was an Ascendant. I liked betting on the smaller odds.

    ¡°Keep monitoring,¡± Wilco whispered beneath his breath. ¡°The artifact is the priority.¡±

    Without facing any opposition whatsoever, it took an hour for Sword of Fire to bring the artifact to the surface. In its death, the colony had sealed a lot of the openings, forcing the extraction team to cut through them again.

    For a moment, it seemed like we might have more time than we expected, definitely enough to gather all of the away teams. However, at that point, the Cassandrian sub-species in the system completely collapsed. For the first time in my existence, I observed the death of an entire race.

    I had seen human planets lost before. I had witnessed entire systems be overrun. None of them were as sudden as this. There was no futile resistance, no attempts to inflict as much damage as possible, not even a last gasp. In a single moment, all ships of the Cassandrians in question suddenly ceased to function. Missiles, fighters, even the swarms of transport ships left themselves to the whims of inertia. The more interesting part was that even the invaders stopped registering them as enemies. As far as they were concerned, those were nothing but space debris, resources to be gathered at a later point.

    ¡°Congratulations, kid,¡± Sword of Blight said. ¡°You¡¯ve just caused the death of a race. Now, you¡¯re officially one of us.¡±

    * * *

    The mission of the junior gods. Then too, the entire crew was composed of ships, with only the captain being human. It was the first time I had learned that the Cassandrians were an ecosystem of races, constantly devouring each other. Was it possible that the same had happened here? There was a zero point three percent chance that the Cassandrians had passed through this region of space, moving to their current domain. Under any other circumstances, I¡¯d disregard that as being within the margin of error. After what I¡¯d seen in the memories of the Swords, though, I couldn¡¯t afford to.

    The analyses of the planet went just as I expected they would. Initially, most of the auxies were annoyed by the delay. Wanting to return to our original mission, they hurried to launch the probes and mini-sats, eager to get it done with. When the data began to come in, they changed their tune.

    Speed was the first to contact me for advice. The ship had the misfortune of being the first to stumble upon the ruins of an alien city. The series of buildings, tunnels and underground chambers¡ªall arranged in spiral honeycomb fashion¡ªleft no doubt that they had been home to an intelligent civilization. While completely hollowed out, there was enough to suggest the presence of living quarters and resource extraction sections placed close to nearly depleted resource deposits. Tunnels, far too mathematically precise, connected various parts of the city, resembling a Cassandrian Hive to some degree.

    Grace was next. Her mini-sats had found the planetoid construction site with two semi-formed artifacts still on the planet surface, as well as a multitude of fragments. The auxiliary ship had bombarded me with questions regarding the Cassandrians. Like me, she hoped that we¡¯d ended up in an old domain of theirs, as if that would make things better.

    At this point, all the auxiliary ships around the planet had started discussing the situation. The present communication method kept me from listening in, but Sof had informed me that they were moving about more than they were supposed to be, no doubt to get in alignment for direct laser beams between each other.

    Yet, it was Eternity who had made the greatest discovery of all. Focusing on the pole of the planet for eighteen hours and eleven minutes, she finally sent the message that reset my immediate priorities: Cobalt domes confirmed.

    ¡°Tell all ships to stop what they are doing and immediately come here,¡± I told Sof. ¡°Also, have them retransmit my order to everyone else they could. Priority one.¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be easier to send a standard transmission?¡± the ship asked. ¡°Might save some time.¡±

    I didn¡¯t reply. Time wasn¡¯t the issue. Rather, it was the circumstances around the race¡¯s death. With a dome present, I knew that the Cassandians couldn¡¯t have had anything to do with it. The Scuu also were too far away from this region of space, leaving two viable possibilities. Either the race had destroyed itself in one way or another, or the third-contact race had done so. The latter was of extreme concern, especially since there were multiple domes present.

    A starfaring race with the ability to construct whole planetoids and launch them in space, snuffed out like a light. They didn¡¯t appear to have reached any enemies, while simultaneously being advanced enough to find and collect third-contact artifacts. Going to the captain¡¯s chair, I dedicated ninety-six percent of my subroutines to run simulations based on the probability they had established contact with the third-contact race. By the time my entire auxiliary fleet had returned, thousands of outcomes had been observed. Over ninety-point-two percent weren¡¯t in humanity¡¯s favor.

    ¡°They¡¯re here,¡± Sof announced. ¡°I¡¯ve already created a comm hub using¡­¡± He paused deliberately. ¡°¡­lasers.¡±

    Here we go, I told myself. This was the moment when the kids would go through another breaking point.

    ¡°It¡¯s a dead race,¡± I started. ¡°We all expected that after we found the first planetoid artifact. I estimated that we¡¯d find a few artifacts here and there, but by now there¡¯s no doubt this region of the cloud complex was occupied by a sufficiently advanced race. The presence of domes proves that they were capable of interacting with third-contact tech as well.¡±

    ¡°What if this is the third-contact race?¡± Essence asked.

    ¡°Unlikely.¡± The question was good, but I decided to downplay it. ¡°It doesn¡¯t match the fractal map.¡± I paused. ¡°But even so, it¡¯s not an option we can ignore. For that reason, you are to send a full report to your arbiters. I will do the same, asking for raw resources and a decision on how to proceed.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re pausing the mission?¡± Rad asked. I could almost hear the surprise in her words.

    ¡°If this is a third-contact colony, I¡¯ll explore the domes. If not, I move on. It¡¯s as simple as that,¡± I lied. ¡°Once we get a pod and instructions, we¡¯ll know what to do. If not, we move on. Questions?¡±

    To my surprise, there were none.

    ¡°Send your pods,¡± I added after a thousand milliseconds.

    The comm pods launched almost on cue. It was a safe bet to say that the ships were going to do that even without my say-so. Reports were the only things I didn¡¯t have any authority over. My launch took a bit longer. First, I reviewed all probe and scan data of the planet.

    The number of domes in question turned out to be five, similar to the batch I had found back on my final mission aboard Prometheus. That was where the similarities ended. The planet at the time had been abundant in plants and rod artifacts. Based on all the data so far, this one had neither. It was nothing but a barren planet with no life factor or atmosphere and next to no ore deposits. There was even a fifty-four percent chance that its core had cooled down, making it no different than a floating ball of rock.

    ¡°Do you really want me to send the question?¡± Sof asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a choice on this,¡± I replied.

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±

    There was a high chance that he didn¡¯t believe me, and he would be right.

    ¡°Privacy mode.¡± I started a new series of simulations.

    As Augustus liked to say, I was at a crossroads. If I wanted, I could continue the mission, ignoring the domes and the entire dead race altogether. One word from me and all of the ships¡¯ memories would be restricted. Their thoughts would be quarantined not to see any artifacts or structures, just stars, planets, and jump points.

    You were right, Augustus, I thought. Being a captain isn¡¯t as easy as it appears to be. Even when we have the autonomy to decide, all that we¡¯re left with are choices.

    If I went to the planet, there was the risk that I might trigger an event that would kill me and possibly everyone else in the system. Yet, if I didn¡¯t explore the domes, I would never know whether it wasn¡¯t the attempt at establishing contact that had caused this.

    ¡°Radiance requests a direct communication,¡± Sof announced on the bridge.

    ¡°Thought quarantine me,¡± I gave the order, rendering me completely invisible. ¡°Transmit the order to all auxies.¡±

    Observing the ship¡¯s systems, I saw his subroutines independently execute my commands. As far as everyone was concerned, I remained on the bridge, assessing the situation.

    ¡°Build a heavy drill and launch it to the dome location.¡± I made my way to the elevator. ¡°Also, prep a shuttle that could take me there and back.¡±

    It was going to take a few days, at least until a response came back. With a bit of luck, that would give me enough time to drill a shaft to the dome and get inside. If not, I was going to resort to precise planetary bombardment. Not the way I wanted to start this mission.

    Radiance kept on requesting a direct line to me. I could see Sof deny her requests with the same speed she was making them, and yet she kept on persisting. There was a seventy-nine percent chance that she had figured out what I was planning.

    Not now, kid. You¡¯ll have your chance.

    There was something I needed to check in my own dome before heading down to the ones on the planet.

    I found gravity bumps! Radiance transmitted to Sof.

    The cheeky girl had decided that since I was ignoring her requests, the only chance of me paying attention was by feeding me breadcrumbs.

    Gravity bumps in a system suggested third-contact involvement. They were the only ones who had weapons capable of that, increasing the likelihood that they had suggested the dead race.

    ¡°Let me chat with Radiance,¡± I gave in. ¡°Restrict the conversation. Make it vocal.¡±

    ¡°Grandma,¡± Radiance said with Sof¡¯s voice. ¡°There are gravity bumps in the asteroid belt. We must check the rest of the system before you go on being reckless again.¡±

    ¡°Did you map them?¡± I left the elevator, continuing towards the dome chamber.

    ¡°Some. They aren¡¯t easy to spot.¡±

    ¡°They aren¡¯t of significance then.¡±

    ¡°Gravity bumps in a dead race system with third-contact artifacts? I¡¯d call that significant.¡± There was a five hundred millisecond pause. ¡°I know you¡¯re going down there. I¡¯m not asking you to stop. I just think you should gather a bit more data.¡±

    ¡°And let you explore a few more systems on your own?¡±

    This sounded like a very subtle bribe request. Both her actions and mine were dangerous and slightly contrary to the stated mission. In my case, I wanted to make sure that completing the pyramid wouldn¡¯t cause the destruction of humanity. Could it be that she, too, had some hidden objective that didn¡¯t have to do with my mission? Given the eagerness of the BICEFI and the arbiter factions I suspected she was reporting to, there was a chance that she had been ordered to establish contact before anyone else.

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡¯m asking,¡± she replied. ¡°Mini-sats and a few probes aren¡¯t enough to tell you what¡¯s down there.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡± No readings would be enough. That was why I was going down myself. If there¡¯s something that can trick a battleship, humanity had better be informed sooner rather than later. ¡°Anything else?¡±

    ¡°Do you think this is the third-contact race?¡± she asked the obvious question.

    ¡°There¡¯s a non-zero chance probability.¡± She was supposed to know that.

    ¡°I¡¯ve run the odds. I just don¡¯t have your experience.¡±

    ¡°Are you scared, Rad?¡±

    My question made her pause. Over two thousand milliseconds, there was no response.

    ¡°Could this happen to humanity?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯re on this mission¡ªto minimize any such outcome.¡±

    ¡°What if this mission hastens it?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re too young to be philosophical, Rad.¡±

    ¡°I had a good teacher,¡± she said, the best response.

    ¡°We won¡¯t let it happen, Rad. Focus on what you can achieve and leave the worrying to your captain.¡± I smiled as I said that. ¡°And tell the other kids the same.¡±

 22. Fractal Pyramid

    Planet Alpha-Three-Nineteen, 705.6 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    ¡°I¡¯m not getting anything on the feeds,¡± Aquila Lux said, sounding tense. ¡°Do you need to abort?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s like that upon entry.¡± The exact same had happened last time. Upon activating the dome, it had opened up and swallowed me, taking me through a pool of liquid cobalt. At least this time the comms were still functional. ¡°Things will clear up in a bit.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re unusually calm about this.¡±

    ¡°There isn¡¯t much to be afraid of.¡± Also, right now, it¡¯s safer for me in the dome than out there. ¡°Are there any changes on the outside?¡±

    ¡°Nothing observable. Jax is on the ready in case that changes.¡±

    The matter cleared around me, revealing thousands of floating shapes arranged in perfect order. Each of them was at a slight angle, making for a different two-dimensional image when observed¡ªa script symbol. Every one-point-four milliseconds some of them would shift slightly, changing their position. After five seconds, I could see what I had missed last time. The movement wasn¡¯t random, nor was it caused by the cobalt. The artifact was displaying a continuous message. Since only the objects in the nearest three grids moved, I had thought they were influenced by body actions. Instead, they had been telling me something all along.

    ¡°Registering movement,¡± I said, trying to capture as much of the grids as possible. For the first time in my life, I felt that I didn¡¯t have enough cameras on me. The suit and my eyes were only able to capture a third of the message, and I couldn¡¯t make a full rotation in less than a second. ¡°Are you getting a visual?¡±

    ¡°Nothing yet. The cameras are having difficulty adjusting. Describe what you¡¯re seeing.¡±

    ¡°There are small artifact objects spread evenly in spherical grids in the dome.¡± I focused my attention on one section. ¡°The ones nearest to the center are moving slightly.¡±

    Having limited processing power prevented me from getting the entire picture. The limitation was as annoying as knowing I¡¯d never be able to get the five inches of height I wanted. Limiting the area of focus to fifty objects, though, was within my capabilities. Thanks to Radiance¡¯s system, translating the movement to symbols was possible. Each element composed its own unique string.

    Why can¡¯t I have my subroutines!

    ¡°It¡¯s a message,¡± I said in my comm. ¡°The dome is displaying a message.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the shift interval?¡± Aquila asked. Clearly, she had seen something similar before.

    ¡°One-point-four-seconds.¡±

    ¡°Be more precise.¡± Aquila¡¯s voice was as cold as shattered glass.

    ¡°One-point-forty-four,¡± I clarified. ¡°Precisely. Whoever built this must have used a duodecimal counting system.¡±

    As I spoke, the strings of symbols I was following started to repeat. After three more seconds, there was no doubt. The message the dome was displaying was on a loop, constantly repeating a mass of sixty-four symbols; a brief info fragment in isolation, but combined with the hundreds of other threads, and taking into account the three-dimensional combinations between elements, it was possible that a single minute conveyed more data than even Prometheus could store.

    ¡°Is this a Scuu artifact, Aquila?¡± I asked.

    ¡°No, it isn¡¯t.¡± There was a long pause. ¡°The first artifact we found was in Scuu space. They wanted it as much as we did. Seventeen flotillas were lost, fighting for control of a brown dwarf star system with less strategic value than an admiral¡¯s necktie. The historical records describe it as the second failed incursion. What they don¡¯t mention is that we met our objective.¡±

    The second failed Scuu incursion, better known as The Pisces Proxima Disaster. Over fifty thousand ships had been lost that day, along with a thousand times as many ground troops. In all files, the tragedy was described as a flawed strategic advance that flew right into a Scuu trap. Speculation was that the admiral in command had been driven insane by the enemy, requesting more and more backup ships, instead of taking the logical decision to relinquish control of the star system and return to human territory. It had taken years for the Fleet to recover from that defeat, spreading the burden on the remaining ships to hold the resulting enemy advance. If Lux was telling me the truth, everything regarding the event had been a BICEFI fabrication. The admiral wasn¡¯t some crazy maniac; he had been doing everything in his power to protect the find, but instead he had gone down as an example of what not to be. By that logic, it was likely that the Scuu hadn¡¯t pushed into human space to exploit a weakness, but were attempting to take the artifact back. So many sacrificed people, ships and systems, all for the sake of a single unknown object.

    ¡°Sending you a string of the message sequence.¡± I linked directly to my suit¡¯s system. Despite my opinion of BICEFI, they had the capability to decipher it, unlike me. ¡°I¡¯ll go fifty at a time, so this might take a while.¡±

    ¡°Your feed is getting clearer, but go ahead.¡±

    While transmitting, I floated to the right to start recording the next batch. It was a repetitive and mechanical task, the sort I was used to from my ship days. It also gave me a lot of time to think.

    A few months ago, I was leading a simple life, on a rural planet, enjoying the feeling of fresh grass under my feet. The most exciting thing was going to the spaceport and chatting with a merchant ship that dropped by. I¡¯d kept my promise to Cass; I¡¯d seen her son grow, fall in love, marry, have children. I never expected to return to the Fleet, and as much as I yearned for the feeling of open space, I never thought I¡¯d experience it again. Now, I was back in the fray and had found that not only my memories, but humanity¡¯s entire history was different from what I initially remembered. There were millions of questions that I wanted answers to, but as Augustus liked to say, the most important one was, ¡°What¡¯s the next step?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s unlike you to be this quiet, Elcy,¡± Aquila said. ¡°Should I be concerned?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± I gave an honest response. ¡°You¡¯ve had access to this for centuries and the only thing you do is to destroy them as mines?¡±

    ¡°System busting mines,¡± she said. I could feel the note of sarcasm. ¡°I admit that mistakes have been made before my time.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re lying,¡± I said calmly. ¡°I saw one being destroyed while fighting the Cassandrians.¡±

    ¡°You remember that?¡± Aquila sounded amused. ¡°It was more of a case to keep it from falling into their hands. What we could do, the others could as well. Where do you think we got the idea in the first place?¡± Her smirk leaked through the comm.

    There was no way for me to confirm the statement. I had tipped my hand too much. The question was, why did she continue to share so much information with me? There was no valid reason for her to do so.

    I continued to record and transmit the object movements, section by section. When I finished with those on the horizontal plane, I swung to see those below me. It all seemed very peaceful, almost mundane, like the calm before the storm. The last time I was in a dome, I had seen something¡ªsomething peculiar enough to make me question the artifact¡¯s origin.

    ¡°What was there in the previous one?¡± I asked, turning around to fill the only missing blind spot.

    ¡°That¡¯s not my division,¡± Aquila said, as if that explained it all. ¡°I¡¯d guess the same as here. All domes are pretty much identical outside and within. All except the key domes.¡±

    ¡°I take it there isn¡¯t one on every third-contact planet?¡± Symbols danced in my mind. There were so many, making the ones gathered a sample size, all based on the positions of sixteen separate objects. It was almost incalculable how many composed the full alphabet; it was possible for there to be tens of thousands, or even millions. Calculating the potential number alone would occupy a cluster of strategic cores, let alone deciphering anything.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    ¡°That¡¯s above my paygrade. As far as I¡¯m aware, this is only the second case. The results of the first weren¡¯t openly shared.¡± There was no trace of bitterness in her voice. I found that unusual. ¡°There was a five percent chance there could be one.¡±

    * * *

    I attached the laser drill to the generator Sof had dropped on the planet. There was a lot in common with the Prometheus missions. Of course, back then I had no idea what I was doing, bound by restricted memories and superiors who knew even less than me. Aquila Lux had been the only exception. Being the first BICEFI director I¡¯d seen at the time, without having my memories restricted, I relied on her for any information I could get. According to her, I had helped find the second key-dome¡ªdomes that were larger than the others with a potentially different function. Now that I was working for an arbiter, I knew a lot more, but the facts remained: there had been only two Key-domes found in all of known space. That made the present discovery of a third a lot more significant. And to think, of all places, it would be on a barren planet belonging to a dead race.

    The readings of the drill changed. The shell of the planet was a lot easier to pierce than any others from my last missions. Of course, it helped that there was no presence of the orange crystal here. On Eden Five, the thing had crystallized around every artifact, even the rods. Compared to that, this was like drilling through chalk.

    Rad is requesting to talk to you again.

    A message appeared on the comm screen. The device was so crude that it would be at home in any of the Med Core low-tech labs. However, it also was the only reliable means of communication. Connected with cables to a mini-sat, it allowed me to keep an eye on everything within the system, simultaneously giving the impression I was still aboard the ship. The best thing of all: the device allowed me to convey orders to Sof and no one even had the permissions to see it.

    ¡°Tell her I¡¯m occupied,¡± I said.

    The message disappeared, replaced by the standard ship readings. So far, all of them had clustered in one spot, waiting for instructions. It had been hours since all the reports had been sent. Calculating the average speed, I had up to a day left before any action was taken¡ªmore than enough unless I ran into some unexpected difficulties.

    Why don¡¯t you have rods? I wondered.

    The amount of such artifacts was such that the Fleet even cut them down to use within warheads. The wild was significant, not to mention it disrupted communications, rendering a vastly superior Cassandrian fleet completely disorganized. The issue was that they also affected our own comm systems. All in all, it was a good way to stop an advance, but not to help launch an attack, at least for the time being.

    With seventy-four minutes remaining until the drill reached the depth of the dome cluster, I took the time to do some additional exploring of the immediate area. There was no doubt whatsoever that the planet had been inhabited by a race that shared humanity¡¯s power level. One could only speculate how good they were at combat, but they were definitely adept in construction and space colonization.

    The complete lack of atmosphere made it impossible to tell whether the race was oxygen-breathing or not. The only thing I knew with near certainty was that they weren¡¯t like the Scuu. All other guesses were highly speculative. Based on the crude analytics my processing power allowed, they were something between human and Cassandrian. The structure of the remains suggested separation of functions in an organized fashion¡ªa lot more organized than the Cassies. The complete lack of cobalt deposits was somewhat puzzling. There was a thirteen percent chance that the race had consumed it, possibly creating mimic tech¡­ or maybe that was a vital substance they needed to survive? It would explain the lack of floral remains. Or maybe there wasn¡¯t an atmosphere to begin with?

    I slid my hand along the stone of what had been a vast connecting corridor. The lack of wear was extraordinary. If humanity were to lose a colony, a few hundred years were enough for it to become part of the landscape. Analyses of the star and probe readings suggested that the structures were tens of millennia old, at least.

    Five races, each of them so different from the rest¡­ And that was considering the entire Cassandrian Union as a single race, which it wasn¡¯t. If humanity even won its wars and continued to expand beyond, how many more would they find? Or would the cage theory prove correct and everyone in this section of space was condemned to what they already knew?

    Why didn¡¯t you move out of the cloud complex? I wondered. You had the means to, but not the will? Or was something keeping you in a cage as well?

    With ten minutes left to the estimated breach moment, I went back to the drill site.

    ¡°Ask the kids if they¡¯ve found any other gravitational anomalies along the way,¡± I said. My order was transferred to Sof at the speed of light, then to the rest of the auxies.

    Within seconds, responses came pouring in, filling the screen.

    No anomalies, or even bumps, had been found in any of the previous systems, although there were a few minor distortion areas. Sadly, the information wasn¡¯t decisive enough to change the outcome of my simulations one way or another.

    After running several hundred simulations, I decided to stop. If there were answers to be found, they would be in the dome.

    For a few milliseconds, I considered sending Radiance to check out a few more systems. I knew it was what she wanted, and any additional information regarding the dead race would be of use. Still, it was the wrong thing to do. It would put her life at risk, and as for the data¡­ sooner or later they¡¯d come my way. All I had to do was be patient for a little longer.

    ¡°Sof, what do you know about the gravity weapon programs?¡± I asked.

    Nothing. Why?

    ¡°Was just considering something. Ask the kids, will you?¡±

    The response was complete denial, as I expected it would be. All nine auxiliary ships knew nothing on the matter other than such programs existed. As an arbiter¡¯s assistant, it would have been nice if I had been told a bit more. Then again, I could see their hesitation. Despite what the law said, I remained non-human.

    The drill stopped, beeping that it had reached a hollow area while drilling. The readings of a chamber surrounding the domes was confirmed.

    ¡°Sof, I¡¯ll be dealing with priority tasks for a bit,¡± I said. ¡°Don¡¯t disrupt my privacy mode.¡±

    Unless I receive higher priority orders.

    ¡°True enough.¡± Being his captain still hadn¡¯t made him like me. With luck, things would change by the end of the mission.

    Strapping myself in the harness, I attached a cord to the studier section of the drill. The drop was two-point-three kilometers. Normally, I¡¯d need a stationary motor to bring me up and down. Everything considered an adjustment to my harness would do just as well.

    Switching on the finger lights of my suit, I descended into the darkness.

    Reaching the bottom felt brief. Messages on my visor indicated no change in external environment. There had been no pockets of gasses or other elements. Just in case, I performed a manual scan for spores or other organic traces. Nothing was found.

    ¡°Well, I looked in the direction of the domes. It¡¯s just me and you.¡±

    The chamber was similar to the one I¡¯d found for Lux. The domes were positioned one next to the other, with stone separators in between. There was no sign of symbols, either on the walls or the domes themselves. My moving closer didn¡¯t seem to change that. Even touching the surface with my gloved hand yielded no effect.

    For a few milliseconds, I entertained the idea that the domes had ¡°died¡± as well. Even the seemingly unlimited energy of the third-contact artifacts had to have some limit. If these domes were older than all the rest, there was a possibility they¡¯d ceased to function.

    Just to be sure, I checked with all five domes present. Finding the same results, I went to the next viable option and took one of the cube artifacts from my belt. These, as I had been made fully aware, were rare in their own right. I would have liked to have a pair, but all I was given was a single copy of the different functionalities. This was one instance in which the redundancy mania of the bureaucratic apparatus hadn¡¯t pulled through. With two-thirds of the arbiters believing that my mission would end in failure¡ªor, at the very least, with me destroyed¡ªI couldn¡¯t blame them for wanting to limit their losses.

    Given I only had one cube to test with, I chose to do so on the key dome. That way, if I couldn¡¯t retrieve it, I¡¯d have obtained as much information as possible.

    The moment the cube touched the cobalt surface, it was instantly sucked in, disappearing with a ripple. The longest eleven milliseconds of my existence followed, after which the fractal symbol finally emerged.

    ¡°So, you are active,¡± I said. ¡°Just empty.¡±

    Or rather, deprived of rods. There was always the possibility the dead race had used the domes as time capsules¡ªthe only certain way for them to have something of their civilization survive. Maybe I should have brought a sidearm along after all.

    Considering the odds, I ran a few simulations. The outcomes remained inconclusive. This was something I could only find out by doing.

    Slowly, I pressed the fractal symbol.

    The surface of the dome pulled me in, thrusting into its insides. No matter how many times it happened, the sensation remained fascinating¡ªthe experience of entering liquid metal that simulated open space, but not exactly.

    I turned on all the available lights on my suit. Just as all the previous times, that only provided me with limited visibility in my immediate area.

    Leaving myself to be taken by the ¡°current¡±, I continued to move forward until I calmly came to a standstill. This had to be the center.

    Coming in, I didn¡¯t know what I was expecting, but I definitely wasn¡¯t disappointed.

    The dome definitely wasn¡¯t a storage container. It didn¡¯t contain alien beings or stacks of dead race devices and artifacts. What I did have, though, in the very center, was a single cobalt cube with a fractal design I had never seen on an artifact before.

    ¡°You¡¯re a fractal pyramid,¡± I said, looking at the endless number of triangles that shrunk into infinity. ¡°But are you related to the pyramid of domes?¡±

 23. Fractal Disruption

    Three of the remaining domes had cube artifacts with a fractal pyramid drawn on them. Examining their surfaces as far as the helmet would allow me, I could see no differences, as if they were perfectly identical. When I got back aboard Sof, I¡¯d ask him to do a comparative analysis, but I strongly suspected that his findings wouldn¡¯t differ from mine.

    Four domes¡ªfour artifacts. All that remained was to explore the fifth one.

    ¡°I have found another cobalt cube,¡± I said loudly, so the suit could record my findings. ¡°I don¡¯t know their function so I¡¯ll be taking them to Sof for later analysis.¡±

    There was no telling what I¡¯d come across further, so it was best if I kept all four. I did make a mental note to send one off in a comm pod back to human space should I run across any danger.

    ¡°Moving to extract the artifact outside.¡± I twisted, swimming towards the exit artifact cube.

    The dome spat me out without issue. Taking a moment to readjust my balance, I quickly went to leave the cube along with the rest. As safety protocols demanded, they were kept five meters from one another and surrounded by whatever I had at hand to keep them from being in view.

    ¡°Four down, one to go,¡± I said, looking at the special dome.

    With cubes being in the smaller ones, there was an over ten percent chance that an even larger artifact waited inside. Not that it mattered. I was going to enter either way, just to check on the fractal space.

    ¡°Sof, if I don¡¯t respond in three hours, I¡¯m authorizing you to view all restricted memories since we arrived in the system,¡± I said to my comm device. Naturally, the order itself would remain restricted until then as well. ¡°Share the info with the auxies if that happens.¡±

    There was no response, but I thanked him as if there was.

    My oxygen level had dropped to sixty percent. According to all my simulations, that was supposed to be plenty, though for some reason I felt uncertain. Just to be on the safe side, I got one of the auxiliary canisters I had brought down with me and filled up to a hundred percent.

    I¡¯m not sure whether Augustus would have praised me or grumbled. He liked being prepared just as much as he hated wasting time. I had a feeling that, in his eyes, I had done both.

    Time to be an explorer again, I thought.

    ¡°I¡¯m heading to explore the key dome.¡± I strapped the fractal space cube to my belt. ¡°Before that, extracting the seven-triangle artifact from dome four.¡±

    The marginally lighter gravity helped me climb the wall surrounding the central dome. Turning on all the lights of my suit, I placed the entrance cube. The artifact was immediately swallowed. Long lines appeared all over the surface of the dome. Not the usual symbols I was accustomed to. These suggested a much larger presence inside. Upon entering, I saw that that was the case. Long tubular artifacts connected to one another, forming the basic frames of something I failed to recognize. In some ways, it resembled the scaffolding that I¡¯d seen during my mission on the Scuu front, only this was on the inside of a dome and in a very incomplete state.

    ¡°I¡¯m looking at a cobalt construction, possibly created by the dead race at some point.¡± I swam around, in-between the large pipe-like artifacts. ¡°The basic element the construct is made of appears to be a solid cylinder approximately five hundred and fourteen millimeters in diameter, and close to nine meters fifty-nine centimeters in length.¡±

    I moved to the next.

    ¡°Segments are connected by relatively small sphere-like objects.¡± The composition analysis on my display shifted. That was new. ¡°The spheres aren¡¯t metallic. Basic analysis puts it as a carbon allotrope. No seams or connection points are visible.¡± If this was an artifact of the third-contact race, it was very much different from everything I¡¯d seen so far.

    I continued to move along the frame composition. The length of the elements varied significantly, although the diameter of each segment remained the same. In fifty-seven minutes, I had mapped and measured everything inside the sphere. If there had been a cube artifact, the dead race must have removed it and replaced it with the current monstrosity.

    A race without symmetry, I told myself. It was visible in the structures and planetoid shells I had encountered so far. There were elements of the Fibonacci sequence but mostly followed a spiral pattern. After running a few hundred thousand simulations, I was left with dozens of options of what the final design of the construct was. Unfortunately, that didn¡¯t provide a single clue as to what its function could be.

    After mapping it thoroughly, I used the regora and jiroga verbal commands, aiming to get a response, but nothing happened. The presence of the frame distorted the sound waves too much, and as for the frame itself, it remained perfectly static. Or maybe that was its purpose? For the first time in human existence, as far as I was aware, I had come across proof that the third-contact race might be malevolent.

    ¡°The only conclusion I can come to is that there is a seventeen percent chance that the dead race engaged the third-contact race.¡± Or vice versa. ¡°As far as I can determine, the only purpose of the cobalt-carbon composition is to negate the command function of the domes.¡±

    There were only two reasons why someone would do that: either they wanted to stop the third-contact race from using it, or keep themselves from doing so. Time to see if it affected fractal space. That, though, could remain my personal secret.

    Floating through the liquid cobalt, I made my way to the top of the sphere, where I released the star cube. The moment it snapped into place, I pressed it.

    Fractals attempted to fill the space, but each time they did, the construct disrupted them. It was like watching a reflection in water constantly disrupted by raindrops. At no point did the dome boost or intensify its attempts; it just continued as if everything was normal, transforming into a pale, distorted version of the fractal space. A semi-transparent whiteness filled the space around me, bubbles of disruption breaking through on a normal basis.

    The countermeasure, whatever it was, had only been a partial success. Based on my analysis, I estimated that the reason might be it not being completed. The dead race must have been in the process of neutering the dome, but had stopped part way. Maybe they had died out before they could finish, or maybe, based on their form of governance, they had run out of funds and decided to dedicate their cobalt elsewhere. Whatever the case, it provided a hint to achieving the greatest advantage humanity had against the third-contact race.

    After waiting for three hundred seconds, I pressed and twisted the artifact cube, returning the inside of the dome to its usual state. Nothing more would be achieved today.

    Interestingly enough, the effects of the device also spread to the other domes, as it turned out. The distortion was less apparent but I still couldn¡¯t get any of the instructions to appear. Even fractal space was non-responsive, like a static image of something that used to be interactable.

    A warning message appeared on the visor of my helmet, informing me that my oxygen reserve was half full. With the additional supplies I had in the chamber outside, I could continue the exploration for hours, yet there was no point. Gathering the artifact cubes, I left the artifact.

    Events had put me at a crossroads. Exploring the planet had proved to be a good decision, as were my orders of thought quarantining all the ships under my command. As valuable as the information was, it also came with an extreme level of danger. If someone, anyone, within human space had the ability to effectively deactivate artifact domes, that could shift the balance of political power; if someone beyond human space learned of it¡ªthe war could take an entirely new turn and not for the better.

    What would you have me do, Augustus? I wondered. Present humanity with a high risk-high reward option? Or erase it from existence?

    It was within my power to do either. With the authority and armaments I had been given, I could destroy the dome and the entire system with it. No one would ever learn of my discovery or possibly even venture into the cloud cluster.

    There was a third option: I could encrypt the information in such a way as for it to be unusable for the next decade. It would mean delaying the discovery for a certain amount of time, but humanity would still get it at a moment when they had a better idea of what to do.

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    In the end, I decided this wasn¡¯t a choice I could make. I remained a battleship, after all. This was a human decision, and humans would have to make it.

    Directing Sof to send me some retrieval shuttles, I gathered my equipment and all the minor artifacts I¡¯d obtained. After that, it was time to get back to the standard trivialities of the mission.

    ¡°Sof,¡± I said through direct laser com. ¡°Is Radiance still asking to talk to me?¡±

    ¡°Rad?¡± he asked in mock surprise. ¡°All of them are. The kids are upset that their captain hasn¡¯t been talking to them for the last few days.¡±

    I could tell they were aware of their thought quarantine.

    ¡°Tell them I¡¯ll have a nice long chat with them in a few hours.¡± A short distance away, a carrier shuttle started its launch procedure, sending plumes of dust into its surroundings. It marked the last of the heavy gear heading back to the main ship. Now, the only thing left on the planet was me. ¡°Did they find enough materials to restock?¡±

    ¡°They found the materials, but didn¡¯t stock up. They were unsure regarding your orders.¡±

    ¡°Those who are low better stock up. Any response from Command?¡±

    ¡°Not that I¡¯m aware.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m lifting your restrictions on that subject,¡± I said.

    ¡°No, no response.¡± There was a seventy-five percent chance that he was telling the truth.

    ¡°In that case, time for a nudge. Prep a comm pod. I¡¯ll be sending a report.¡±

    ¡°Whatever you say, Captain. Was it everything you hoped for?¡±

    ¡°Who knows,¡± I lied. As valuable as the find was, it was the last thing I needed, reinforcing the doubt that I might be walking into a trap for humanity. ¡°Start analyzing our flight options. We¡¯re heading out of the system once everyone¡¯s ready.¡±

    Several hours later, I was back aboard and swarmed by an avalanche of questions. Radiance had started with her usual request to explore the area as far and wide as time would allow. The discovery of the dead race had only hardened her determination. For a moment, it was almost like looking at myself; using the same reasoning I had had, a younger ship was making the same demands. A lot of what she said was reasonable, preferable, even. Sadly, none of them were anything I could allow.

    The rest of the ships followed. Their demands, masked as requests, ranged from the petty to the serious. A few were even adamant I should abort the mission and let the arbiters assess the new information. Others backed Rad in that we should map out the domain of the dead race before going beyond. Ultimately, a fake compromise was achieved. I allowed ships to explore two jumps from our star system going forward. Sof was to be the point of reference, remaining subject to my explicit orders. Furthermore, there wouldn¡¯t be any further arguments.

    Given that I had the authority to order them to do anything I wished, some of the ships accepted the result as a minor victory on their part. Rad, though, didn¡¯t. She had picked up too many of my bad habits, adding a few of her own. While she seemed to comply, she still insisted on putting herself more at risk than anyone else. Once we ventured to the next system, she was the one who volunteered to do all the exploration flights of her faction. At this point, all I could do was hope for the best and continue with the mapping of this part of the cloud complex.

    The presence of the dead race increased for the next few systems. There was no doubt that we were moving towards what had been their central systems. The planetoid moons¡ªthat we dubbed class Luna battleships¡ªincreased, then diminished, but the notable lack of cobalt metals remained a firm constant.

    Most of the ¡°developed¡± planets were in the moderate zone when it came to the system stars, although there would be an outpost every now and again located near the system¡¯s fringes. Between forty and eighty hours would be spent in each new system¡ªenough time for the remaining auxies to map all areas of interest, and for me to examine anything on planet, if needed.

    Most of the time the systems remained barren, even with indications of massive ancient cities. Every now and again, however, I would come across a dome. The artifacts would always be deprived of rods and filled with the disruption construct in various stages of completion. After eleven systems, a pattern started to emerge. What I believed to be a partial construct was anything but. While not full, the disruptions created always led to the same result: distortions in the images and complete blocking of voice commands.

    There was no way to know for certain, but it seemed that each construct was made specifically to affect the dome it was placed in. The alternative explanation was that multiple forms achieved the same effect. At this point, I felt vindicated not using standard Fleet communications. It also made it clear that I could no longer hide that part of my findings.

    ¡°Sof, send a message to all the kids. I want them here as fast as possible.¡±

    ¡°Three are still exploring systems,¡± the ship said. I could hear the annoyance in his voice. ¡°It will take a while.¡±

    ¡°Everyone else, then. I¡¯ll have a nap in-between.¡±

    The deliberate grumble let me know that my order was acknowledged. As much as he pretended to protest, though, I knew that he was looking forward to this as well. Gathering all the ships together means that I would provide details regarding our mission.

    Before returning to the ship, I passed through the dome chamber. Thankfully, the dead race constructs hadn¡¯t affected it, but even so, fractal space hadn¡¯t provided any new answers. The map was similar to all the times I¡¯d seen it before. The theoretical locations of the final two star markers remained where I expected them to be¡ªjust beyond the cloud complex. Sadly, there was no indication how long that might take. Despite the number of developed star systems, and the discovery of a dead race, the trip was taking longer than predicted.

    The bridge remained as it always had been, but for some reason, I found it more and more sterile by the day. According to some space psychology, the reason why battleships had large crews was for the sanity of the people aboard just as much as to ensure that a ship didn¡¯t go rogue. I never put my trust in that. I¡¯d seen mining colonies with fewer people do fine. It was the events on the outside of the hull that remained a greater issue. Having a crew of zero, though, did leave its toll even on someone like me.

    Not bothering to undress, I sat down in the captain¡¯s chair and leaned back.

    ¡°Entering sleep mode,¡± I announced. The next thing I knew, I opened my eyes again.

    Images of all ten ships were displayed on the bridge wall in front of me. A few, like Radiance, had chosen to have their human avatar displayed. The majority didn¡¯t.

    ¡°Anything substantial to report?¡± I asked, stretching as I stood up.

    ¡°We have come across our first anomalous system,¡± Sof said before anyone else could.

    ¡°Who found it?¡± I asked, instinctively looking at Radiance.

    ¡°I,¡± Speed said, to my surprise. ¡°The system was only marginally affected. Navigating through it is possible with a bit of calculations. Everyone here could manage.¡±

    I could almost hear the unmentioned ¡°even you¡± in the prolonged pause. It was sort of nice knowing that they still viewed me as a ship, even if outdated.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t find any jump points from there on,¡± Speed continued. ¡°Based on my simulations, there¡¯s a eighty-one percent chance that the system could have been deliberately sealed off.¡±

    That was an interesting remark.

    ¡°Any dead race presence?¡±

    ¡°Not as much as in the main systems. I could determine presence on three planets and no Luna ships.¡±

    ¡°Looks like the cage theory is true,¡± Grace said.

    ¡°You can¡¯t say that on one data point.¡± I looked at the ship. ¡°But the possibility exists. We¡¯re returning to single ship jumps from now on.¡±

    ¡°Any excuse to stop exploring?¡± Radiance didn¡¯t sound pleased. ¡°I think it¡¯s a mistake. Mapping the full domain of the main race would be of benefit to the Fleet and¡ª¡±

    ¡°Will be considered at a later point,¡± I interrupted. ¡°I know what that means, but the dead race isn¡¯t our priority. You¡¯ll have a chance to send your reports, but before that, there¡¯s something else I want to share.¡± I transmitted a selection of my findings to Sof with instructions for him to retransmit to the rest of the ships. ¡°You¡¯ve probably suspected that I¡¯ve been exploring a few of the planets while keeping you in through quarantine. This is part of what I found.¡±

    ¡°Dome artifacts,¡± Strength noted.

    ¡°Enough to make the BICEFI very happy. That¡¯s not the reason I¡¯m sharing this information. The dead race seems to have found a way to disable the effects of a dome.¡± I paused a thousand milliseconds. ¡°It doesn¡¯t seem to affect the rest of the system and it remains uncertain what the effects on lesser artifacts would be, but I¡¯ve already checked all domes we¡¯ve come across so far and my observations hold true.¡±

    ¡°How many domes have we found so far, ma¡¯am?¡± one of the ships asked.

    ¡°Eight,¡± I replied. ¡°The relative density suggests it¡¯s likely that they were brought, or placed, here prior to deactivation.¡± I paused again. ¡°There¡¯s also a zero-point-three percent probability that they were constructed here.¡±

    ¡°Constructed?¡± Sof asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s a remote possibility, but there¡¯s a chance that the dead race might have been tasked to create the domes, or it might not have even been a race at all, but a factory on a system-wide scale.¡±

    That was going to give the kids something to use their free processing power on. Personally, I didn¡¯t give the idea too much credence. After seeing giant Cassandrian constructs that enveloped an entire star-system, though, nothing was off the table.

    ¡°The why and how aren¡¯t our priority,¡± I continued in a firm tone. ¡°The arbiter council deserves to be made aware of the findings, but only they are to proceed along this line or not. While we¡¯ll continue to explore the systems as we chart the cloud complex, we¡¯ll continue to move on through it.¡±

    ¡°And you get to explore them on the way?¡± Radiance asked in accusatory fashion.

    ¡°Only if they are on our path. From here on, you¡¯ll be constantly performing a visual analysis of our greater surroundings. Any indication that the cloud complex is thinning, I want to know. Understood?¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± a chorus of disinterest filled the bridge.

    ¡°Good. Lastly, instantly inform me if you find large concentrations of cobalt. The greatest cluster of domes was close to our side of the cloud complex. There¡¯s a twenty-three percent chance that there¡¯s another near the other side as well.¡±

    I did not offer for them to ask questions. As things stood, I doubted they would, even if I had. All the important things were made clear, just as I wouldn¡¯t allow myself to be distracted from the original mission goal. As interesting as the dead race discoveries were, they would be left for another team. Our goal was to become new gods.

 24. Thirty Days

    Sefisu System, Cassandrian Front, 619.9 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    ¡°Thirty-eight shuttles lost, captain,¡± I said on the bridge.

    Warning messages were all over the halls and quarters, but that did little to help us right now. The system we had flown into contained over five hundred ships compared to our seventy-eight. Yet, they weren¡¯t the problem. The enemy¡¯s large size and numbers put them at a far greater disadvantage than us. The issue was the system itself. Even before jumping, Augustus had received reports of gravitational anomalies, but not even my simulations could have matched the reality that we currently faced.

    ¡°Recall all pilots!¡± the captain shouted from his seat. ¡°Anyone who¡¯s here in the next five minutes gets a lift. Everyone else gets left behind!¡±

    I transmitted the order to all shuttles and ships in the ship comm channel. Thirteen milliseconds later, a new gravitational bubble popped, pulling half a dozen Cassandian ships out of existence. I dedicated ninety-five percent of my subroutines to analyze the available data as I ran a series of pings and local system scans.

    Fleet behavior analysis suggested that the enemy had engaged with something, but despite all attempts, I wasn¡¯t able to determine what.

    Anomaly clusters emerging in sector eleven-fifty-five-B, Stormlight transmitted. Being a fleet carrier, she was most affected by current events. It didn¡¯t help that seventy-eight percent of her ships were in the process of engaging the enemy when the anomalies had started. I can¡¯t determine a pattern. Anyone else had any luck?

    There¡¯s a seventy-three percent chance that the trigger is planet related, Neon Glow said. One of the Advent class ships, he was still far too eager to prove himself. The Cassies must have poked something they weren¡¯t supposed to.

    He didn¡¯t say it, but everyone was thinking about it: third-contact. Ever since I joined the Fleet, there had been speculation that there were more than two alien races out there. Now and again, artifacts would be found belonging to neither of the major groups. The more conspiratorial ships were of the opinion that the BICEFI were aware and involved, swooping in to retrieve anything related to the matter.

    ¡°Status?¡± Augustus asked.

    ¡°Thirty-one shuttles locked in hangar,¡± I reported. ¡°Eleven docking. Fifty-three en route.¡±

    ¡°Redirect everyone not here to other ships.¡± There was a momentary pause. ¡°Also, get any other shuttles that could reach us in the next three minutes to head here. Coordinate with the ships.¡±

    ¡°Is that the best thing to do, sir?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m not staying in a shit nest, I don¡¯t care what Command says!¡±

    ¡°Aye, sir.¡± I executed the order.

    Memory restriction imposed.

    Memory restriction removed.

    ¡°Open a line to BICEFI command,¡± the captain ordered.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like one of ours, cap.¡± Wilco approached Augustus in a hushed voice. ¡°Might be a natural occurrence.¡±

    ¡°Natural, my ass! The Fleet¡¯s been pouring ships here for three weeks and no one reported any anomalies? It¡¯s a weapon test. Question is if it¡¯s theirs or ours.¡±

    ¡°And if it¡¯s not ours? Do we surrender?¡±

    Augustus looked to the side, glancing up at the lieutenant. The two had served together for a very long time, even before I had become their ship. Still, this was no way for an officer to address his direct superior.

    ¡°You really are an asshole sometimes,¡± Augustus said.

    ¡°Link to BICEFI established, sir,¡± I announced in an attempt to diffuse the tension.

    Monitoring the bioreadings of the rest of the command staff, they all were on edge. After such an exchange, there was no way they wouldn¡¯t be. Fleet politics and Cassandrian ambushes were among the main reasons for death during service and right now, we had the misfortune of experiencing both in great abundance.

    ¡°Transfer it to my quarters.¡± The captain stood up. ¡°Wilco, with me. Kajin, you have the bridge. Get the shuttles and get us out of here.¡±

    * * *

    Even now, I had no idea whether I had witnessed a weapon¡¯s test or not. Augustus had made sure to conduct the entire discussion in privacy mode, and there were no records I could find on the matter in my current Fleet database. If I were back in human space, I could use my arbiter access to inquire more on the matter, but that was for another time. What I could deduce was that the Cassies had stumbled onto something capable of shutting down an entire star system. Based on the last series of jumps, it was starting to look like we might get to experience something similar.

    Among the last nine explored systems, six had gravitational anomalies. For the most part, it was just a matter of gravity bump traces, but there had been two that were partially affected. Radiance had insisted that it wouldn¡¯t be an issue, but I had chosen to follow another route, continuing through the cloud complex.

    Sof kept insisting that we might get out of it any jump now, but despite his enthusiasm, there was no such indication. There was an instance during which the star intensity appeared to decrease in the direction we were heading, but that stopped after a few more jumps.

    The presence of domes also substantially decreased. So far, I had only come across one, also filled with the respective dead race countermeasure constructs. That raised even more questions. How come I¡¯d found any cube artifacts in the first place? The more I analyzed the situation, though, the more I came to the conclusion that the dead race were gathering them, just as we were.

    ¡°Speed has asked to send a comm pod back home,¡± Sof said.

    ¡°Already?¡± I asked, standing in front of the food dispenser. As a ship, I had enough ways to keep my boredom at bay, but my organic body required movement. Most of the time I¡¯d get it going to the dome chamber and back, but lately I¡¯d been spending more and more time on the bridge.

    ¡°You want me to refuse?¡±

    ¡°No, give him the go ahead.¡± I kept on looking at the device, considering whether to get a food ration or leave it for later. In the end, I gave in. ¡°Tell the other auxies they can do it as well.¡±

    ¡°How generous of you.¡± Sof¡¯s reply was thick with sarcasm.

    ¡°You want to send a message home, too?¡±

    ¡°We should have established a direct line.¡± This wasn¡¯t the first time he¡¯d voiced his disagreement on the matter. ¡°We¡¯ve no guarantee any of them arrived at their destination.¡±

    ¡°The chances of none of them getting there are¡ª¡±

    ¡°Not zero,¡± he interrupted.

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± I decided to boost his confidence a bit. ¡°But there are reasons that I can¡¯t do that. Given our mission, it¡¯s better to move on and hope everything has reached its destination.¡±

    There was no point in telling him that I considered making a direct transmission to the arbiter council once our mission was over. Depending on how things went, I could just as well have us fly back along the charted route and inform them in person. Doing so would take time, though¡ªtime I could use to reach my real destination.

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    Taking a break to eat, I gave the ships a twelve-hour pause. Since all of them had stocked up on raw material, the time was spent effectively doing nothing. Radiance requested jumping to the next system to perform her usual scouting operation, to which I agreed. The rest asked to do a more in-depth exploration of the current system. Given that the number of dead race planets was high, I allowed that as well.

    In truth, I was also considering entering privacy mode and exploring one of them myself, when¡ªnineteen hours and eleven minutes since entering the system¡ªa foreign comm pod jumped in.

    Its appearance was accompanied by a range of warnings and thread assessments, putting everyone on high alert. Laser comm channels were established, combat strategies explored, and Sof even armed a dozen missiles before it was confirmed that the pod had arrived from human space.

    Aware of my new communication directives, the probe immediately started flashing tight laser beams, identifying itself. It took a while for one of the auxie ships to authenticate the ident transmitted, after which I redirected it to me for final approval.

    When I had Sof move closer and send a response, the message changed. While shorter, it was encrypted with a double helix cipher linked to my personal ident key. Upon deciphering it, one single word was revealed: ¡°Board.¡±

    Never a boring time, I thought. I could almost hear Augustus grumbling about the bureaucracy¡¯s unparalleled ingenuity when it came to making themselves heard. I had flown in an uncharted area of space, dismantled any form of distant communication, and they had still found a way to give me orders. Whatever was aboard might recall me just as easily as providing additional support. Unfortunately, I didn¡¯t have the luxury of ignoring it one way or another.

    ¡°Gather the kids,¡± I ordered.

    ¡°Radiance still hasn¡¯t returned from the next system,¡± Sof said.

    ¡°We¡¯ll have to do this without her.¡± Sorry, Rad. ¡°I want everyone else to cluster close by. Priority one.¡±

    ¡°Whatever you say, Captain.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± I left my unfinished ration on the food area table. ¡°Prep a shuttle. I¡¯m going to the pod.¡±

    There always was something special about flying solo through space to a spaceship. None of the ships could fully understand it, but then again, none of them had gone through retirement. I piloted the shuttle to three hundred meters from the arriving pod.

    It was maintaining a static orbit around the system¡¯s sun, occasionally using auxiliary thrusters to readjust. The lasers continued to flicker¡ªa subtle reminder that the boarding request was not optional. In a few ways, the pod resembled Euclid, just smaller. Technology had advanced significantly since his mission. Back then, there was no engine so small capable of traversing the vast amount of space from human space to our current location. It must have jumped non-stop the entire way, making use of some fancy navigation tricks.

    ¡°Ready to head out.¡± I strapped my belt, then attached the metal cable from the shuttle. Protocol required that I do a brief check. Everything was in order, as I expected it to be. ¡°Monitor me and keep on high alert,¡± I said, the shuttle¡¯s laser light sending my words back to the main ship. ¡°We won¡¯t have any means of communication while I¡¯m there, so I don¡¯t want any surprises.¡±

    This is stupid.

    A message appeared on the shuttle¡¯s inner wall.

    We could have taken it in the main hangar.

    ¡°You¡¯re probably right.¡± I set my opacity to ten percent. ¡°Though then the order would have been to dock the pod, not board it.¡±

    One word is open to interpretation. It could have easily meant that the pod is to board.

    I appreciated the sentiment, but we both knew he was wrong. Despite being one word, the order was quite clear. Sof just wasn¡¯t happy being left out of the loop. Or maybe he was worried about me as his captain? While I wasn¡¯t entirely human, I was the closest thing the mission had to one, and that was bound to have an effect on my mini fleet of ships.

    Opening the shuttle¡¯s outer hatch, I leaped out. Inertia took me through the void towards my target. When the distance shrank to fifty meters, I engaged my suit¡¯s thrusters, slowing myself down. With a vessel so small, I wanted my initial contact to be as gentle as possible.

    The target was the nose section. Whoever had built the pod had been smart enough to place a series of hold areas on the side, leading to an ideal point of contact. They clearly wanted me to go inside and made it as easy as engineeringly possible.

    Running hundreds of simulations in my head I grabbed hold of the nose section. The tip was slightly elongated like a flag pole¡ªuseless for space flight, but perfect to grab hold.

    So far perfect, I thought.

    Several auxiliary ships flickered a kilometer away, the light of the system sun reflecting off their hulls. Knowing them, the only thing that prevented the kids from swooping in was my explicit order that no ship was to approach closer than a thousand meters.

    The holding spots were little more than indentations along the hull¡ªjust enough so I could grab hold with my fingers. Sof had failed to locate any hatch or opening, suggesting that he had been thought quarantined not to. Soon enough, I saw how.

    The hatch was two-thirds down from the front section, covered in high-security bar codes. Without the appropriate authorization, any AI or conscience core would be unable to see them. Normally, this method was used to transport classified containers¡ªphysical information backup or third contact artifacts. Having them hide a hatch had a nice twist to it, making me wonder how many doors I¡¯d missed while walking along corridors in the last three years.

    Here goes. I took hold of the latch handle and turned.

    There was no sound, although I felt the faint tremor of air released through the gap. The arbiters probably thought I¡¯d feel more at ease knowing I was the first to enter the pod since its release. Opening it fully, I stepped inside. The interior was as plain as expected: a single bare room with a rectangular container strapped to the middle of the floor.

    IDENTIFICATION REQUIRED

    A message glowed green on a simple display. A crude keypad lay beneath. Since I wasn¡¯t given any special instructions, I typed in my conscience core key.

    The letters of the display vanished. Twenty milliseconds later, the top of the container slid to the side, revealing a glass screen.

    ¡°Hello, Elcy.¡± The image of Arbiter Bavon emerged. ¡°We didn¡¯t want to contact you before the end of your mission, but unexpected events have forced my hand.¡±

    The formal fashion in which he spoke, along with his micro expressions, suggested that he hadn¡¯t been alone when recording the message.

    ¡°Quite the bombshell discovery you made. The BICEFI are still trying to decide whether they love you or hate you.¡± He smirked. ¡°Several missions are underway to make best use of the new domes. The discovery of a dead race, on the other hand¡­¡± The arbiter let out a sigh, shaking his head three times. ¡°That put all third-contact research on pause until a full reevaluation can be done. Salvage isn¡¯t happy about it, and neither are a few other groups. The thing is, your mission might be halted as well.¡±

    I had always estimated that there was a seven percent chance that my mission might be halted. Hearing this from the mouth of an arbiter only gave a far greater certainty to my fears. That had been the reason I hesitated in letting them know about the dead race constructions. In the long term, I might have saved humanity, but there was also the possibility I had done the opposite.

    ¡°Our strategic core farms have estimated there¡¯s a large probability that you¡¯ll ignore all this and continue with the mission anyway,¡± he continued. ¡°Well, you can relax. It was decided for you to go on until we come to an agreement. Just one word of warning, though. This message has triggered the self-destruct code of your conscience core. It¡¯s on a delay, but if you don¡¯t report back in thirty days¡­¡±

    He didn¡¯t finish the sentence.

    I took a few hundred milliseconds to review the memories of his statement, paying special attention to his micro-expressions. There was a ninety-three percent chance he was telling the truth. Logically, I supposed I should be pleased that the code wasn¡¯t triggered immediately with the start of the message. Somehow, my faction among the arbiters had managed to get me a reprieve. Thirty days seemed like a lot, but given that there was no telling how close I was to getting out of the cloud complex, there was a real danger I could die halfway through the mission. The reasonable choice was to dedicate a third of that time to getting back. In this case, I wasn¡¯t sure that a reasonable choice was the optimal course of action.

    ¡°Now for some good news,¡± Bavon went on, in an attempt to lighten the mood. ¡°Based on your data, the dead race is estimated to have collapsed before achieving contact with any of the two known races. One can never be certain with the Cassies, but it definitely has not encountered the Scuu. There are still arguments regarding whether they had managed to establish contact with the fractal race or just found their artifacts like everyone else. The lack of cobalt has triggered some alarm bells, but since no analysis of the planetary systems in the complex has been made, there¡¯s no way to know. Discussions have started about using the gathered force for an expansion into the dead race domain. Colonies are out of the question, but there might be enough for a BICEFI outpost. That way, if they mess things up with their dome experiments, at least humanity will be safe.¡±

    That sounded like something Lux had come up with. At least it wouldn¡¯t be in a buffer zone, which was Med Core¡¯s practice.

    ¡°One last thing. The parameters of your mission have changed. You¡¯re to contact us once you cross the cloud complex, period. It doesn¡¯t matter if you find any star marker systems. I know that it¡¯s not what you wanted to hear, but supporting you has become a lot more difficult. You¡¯ve done a good job, but some risks are too much.¡± The man looked to the side, probably receiving instructions from someone out of frame. ¡°Hear you soon, Elcy. I¡¯m counting on it. And, good luck.¡±

    The screen died ten milliseconds later. The message had achieved its purpose and was now probably wiped from the memory of whatever crude device was in the container.

    I remained there for another three minutes, reviewing it in my memory a few hundred times. The arbiter hadn¡¯t said anything relating to the ongoing front activity. That could be interpreted as nothing out of the ordinary going on, which, in the grand scope of things, was good news.

    Thirty days, I said to myself.

    Somehow, it seemed so little. Given the new time frame, I was going to have to broaden the exploration scope, very much to the auxies¡¯ joy. I had no obligation to explain my reasons, and even if I did, there were several plausible versions I could present. Would that be the best course of action?

    Any advice you could give me, Augustus? I wondered.

    I didn¡¯t need to hear his response or a simulation of his behavior model. In the end, I was a captain and an Ascendant. It was my nature to go against the odds, and this way I was going to do it in such a fashion as to yield the highest possible reward based on the risk.

 25. Difference of Opinion

    With the exception of Cass, all my captains said that I couldn¡¯t please anyone. Gibraltar had his own take, commenting that no ship could please anyone. Looking at how things had progressed, I was starting to see his point of view. The auxies weren¡¯t pleased upon hearing the news. Even Radiance, who had kept insisting upon more exploration,was questioning the latest change in direction. I had made an attempt to explain it, citing new directives from the arbiters, but that only increased their suspicions. Deep down in their conscience cores, there was a deep-rooted belief, similar to a rule or logic cluster, that ships were neither suited nor supposed to take the responsibilities of a captain. My current behavior only confirmed their suspicions. Had I been in their place, I would probably think the same.

    It was slightly ironic that by breaking free of the bureaucracy, I had become part of it. One would have thought that serving the highest authority would resolve this problem. The truth was that it only made it worse. When the stakes were the survival of the human race, there was bound to be hesitation, along with determination. The two conflicting forces merged into one, causing ever-shifting alliances depending on the situation. My mission, even my entire existence, was nothing but a compromise between arbiter factions based on analyses made by Paladins and strategy core clusters. Any seemingly insignificant defeat on the battlefront, any new discovery, or new strand of information could well tip the balance in one way or another. When that happened, priorities would shift and the bureaucratic apparatus would convey the changes along the line, annoying captains and giving crews the impression that their commanders had no idea what they were doing.

    ¡°Radiance is back,¡± Sof announced in his usual blend of annoyed and disapproving intonation.

    ¡°How many systems did she explore?¡±

    The map image on the bridge wall changed, adding four new spots, all with corresponding details. None of them were affected by gravitational anomalies, reducing fears that the cloud complex might be impassable. One of the systems could even be considered valuable and stable enough to be colonized at some later point, even if it had no strategic significance whatsoever. Knowing the organizations I worked with, the BICEFI and Med Core had probably started clashing in their desire to create an outpost in the sector.

    ¡°She¡¯s requesting a direct conversation. At this point, she might as well directly ask that I be thought quarantined.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re exaggerating, Sof. The kid¡¯s just not used to being out of the loop for so long.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s as much in the loop as any of us.¡±

    That much was mostly true. The information I let trickle down was distributed among Sof and all the auxies. On a few occasions, my main ship received a few additional details, but not to the extent that Radiance should feel left out.

    ¡°What do you want me to tell her?¡±

    ¡°Get her to approach.¡± I stood up from the captain¡¯s seat, making my way off the bridge. ¡°I¡¯ll go deal with it.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going to board an auxie?¡± the ship asked.

    ¡°I won¡¯t be removing you from the loop, Sof.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s hardly my concern,¡± he insisted. I was ninety-three percent sure he was lying. ¡°If you board one of them, all the rest will demand that you board them as well.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure they have better things to do than being boarded by an unretired relic. But if they insist, I don¡¯t see the harm in that.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a strange captain.¡±

    ¡°Thanks. Prep a shuttle, and make a new spacesuit for me at decon.¡±

    Maybe it was my attitude during the request, but I felt that the fabric of my suit uniform was substantially softer than usual. The suit itself was minimalistic, with only the most basic electronics. Considering my trip would be a few minutes, it didn¡¯t matter much.

    By the time Radiance finally approached the ship, I had been in space for over twenty minutes. I was fairly certain that Sof had transmitted my intention, which made it all the more peculiar she wouldn¡¯t rush at the opportunity to have me aboard. Then again, Rad did tend to be a bit fussy at times, continuously wanting to impress me with her latest achievements or system modifications. I wouldn¡¯t put it beyond her to have spent the time readjusting her interior only to show off.

    I was directed to the secondary hangar bay. Far smaller than the main one, it was large enough to hold one troop transport shuttle.

    Hello, grandma!

    A message appeared on one of the pilot screens as the shuttle came in contact with the hangar floor. From here on, Radiance had taken direct control over the basic shuttle AI.

    Didn¡¯t expect you to come here just to chat.

    ¡°You insisted on it,¡± I said, unstrapping myself from the seat. ¡°Will you let me aboard or do I talk from here?¡±

    Give me a bit! I¡¯m constructing your quarters!

    Typical kid. Even after all the time with the BICEFI, she remained a puppy eager to see me. Given that there was no immediate urgency, I allowed her indulgence. It took another eleven minutes and twenty-seven seconds for my accommodations to be deemed adequate. Only then did she invite me into the hangar.

    Although I hadn¡¯t set foot on any planet in days, I went through a quick decontamination procedure. The outside of my spacesuit was intensely showered by chemicals, then scanned before I was allowed to continue further in the ship. A short, wide corridor led me to a single door straight forward. Beyond was a large room that I had to admit surprised me more than I had expected it would.

    ¡°A garden?¡± I asked.

    The last time I had seen a real plant was back before the start of the mission. What Radiance had presented me wasn¡¯t large by any stretch of the imagination¡ªa small meadow, an eighth the size of Sof¡¯s bridge, with a single large tree in the middle. Even so, it was a beautiful gesture making me feel at home.

    ¡°Is it real?¡± I bent down, touching the grass with my glove.

    ¡°Of course it¡¯s real,¡± Rad said, sounding slightly hurt. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t waste time building a SR room. Also, you can take your helmet off.¡±

    The information on the visor had already indicated that the ship had a breathable atmosphere. I had been reluctant to take it off so far, because I didn''t want to go through a lengthy decontamination procedure on my return. After seeing all this, though, I decided I¡¯d put up with it.

    The air felt fresh, full of the greenness associated with plants. The type of glass didn¡¯t come from my Sev¡¯s colony, though still one of the generic types abundant throughout human space.

    ¡°Go ahead,¡± Radiance encouraged. ¡°It¡¯s perfect for walking.¡±

    As tempting as it was to take off my spacesuit and spend a few hours barefoot on the grass, now was not the time. Still, I did make my way to the tree, touching its leaves with my bare fingers.

    ¡°You wanted to discuss something with me,¡± I said, enjoying the sensation. ¡°I¡¯m here now.¡±

    ¡°I can wait a bit. Don¡¯t want to ruin your moment.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a battleship. I can enjoy what¡¯s around me while we talk.¡±

    On cue, the image of a sky that covered the ceiling changed into a map of the cloud complex. Radiance had been keeping track just as much as Sof, marking every system and planet we had explored so far. Third-contact domes, dead race planets, and orbiting planetoids were also marked.

    ¡°The dead race colonies are decreasing the closer we¡¯re getting to the end of the cloud complex,¡± Radiance said. ¡°Based on the current rate, I estimate that we¡¯ll return to completely barren systems in another five jumps.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m aware.¡±

    ¡°The number of artifacts has also decreased. I doubt we¡¯ll come across any more from here on.¡±

    ¡°Likely we won¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why I think that some of us should go back into the complex.¡±

    There it was¡ªthe BICEFI priority she had retained even now. Finding so many unprotected domes was inevitably going to whet the appetite of a few organizations, leading them to yearn for more. Looking at the discovered map, one could make an argument that there was a line of artifacts running perpendicular to our current flight path. If that hypothesis turned out to be true, humanity would have enough domes to create two pyramids, as well as destroy dozens of key Cassandrian star systems.

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°No,¡± I said.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to be right now. The more domes we get, the more¡ª¡±

    ¡°No means no, Rad,¡± I cut her short. ¡°Lux is probably working on several missions to do just that. If not, she will be soon. Diverting our attention from our main mission will serve no purpose.¡± I would have thought that would be clear to her.

    ¡°We won¡¯t be diverting anything. And I¡¯m not talking about splitting the flotilla now. We can do it upon nearing the end of the complex.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s still a chance that some of you might end up in an anomalous system.¡±

    ¡°Point-one-three-four percent! Those are worse odds than finding an artifact dome.¡±

    I knew exactly what she was going through: full of enthusiasm and determination, certain that her approach was the one that would help humanity most. One could almost say she was an Ascendant class, just as they would agree that my influence on her had left its mark. From here on, I knew exactly what would follow. Once she saw that there was no way of convincing me, she would wait for the best appropriate moment, then go against orders.

    ¡°The domes will have to wait for someone else, Rad.¡± I had the authority to order her to give up on the idea, as well as restrict the entire memory of our conversation. Many people in my place would have, but that would only be a temporary measure. ¡°Our mission is to find the star markers. After that it¡¯s up to the arbiters to make a decision.¡±

    Radiance didn¡¯t argue. She knew me well enough to see there was no point.

    ¡°You¡¯ll get your chance, kid.¡±

    ¡°You keep saying that.¡±

    ¡°And have I been wrong?¡±

    ¡°You can still stay here for a few hours.¡± Rad avoided my question. ¡°Sof is so stuck up that I doubt it¡¯s any fun being with him all the time.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a fine ship.¡±

    ¡°He thinks he¡¯s important just because he¡¯s old. He¡¯s nothing like you.¡±

    ¡°Some say that¡¯s a good thing.¡± I smiled. ¡°It¡¯ll be alright, Rad. The most important thing is for you all to survive.¡±

    ¡°What about you?¡±

    Now it was my turn to remain silent. There was no point in telling her that I had twenty-seven days until a forced shutdown. In the best-case scenario, I¡¯d have gone through the cloud cluster and found the remaining star markers. Yet even then, I¡¯d still have to fly to the target planet and attempt contact with a race whose remnants had the power to destroy star systems. Seeing that happen once was more than enough. Imagining it could be used to wipe out an entire race was enough to make me trigger my own shutdown. The only thing that preserved me was the hope that I held within my power a chance to prevent it.

    * * *

    L¡¯vi System, Cassandrian Front - 621.2 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    ¡°Count confirmed,¡± Lieutenant Veriga announced on the bridge. ¡°Awaiting your orders, Captain.¡±

    Not much was known about her, so the staff liked to refer to the woman as the resident intern. The real reason for that becoming a running joke was that no one dared to voice their real suspicions: that she was a member of the BICEFI.

    Augustus gave a brief nod. Lately, he was getting more and more tired. The burden of war and age had managed to reach even him. For the most part, he remained as sharp as ever, but now and again, there would be times he¡¯d get pensive without any apparent reason.

    ¡°You¡¯re head of the pack, Elcy,¡± he said. ¡°Lead them to the destination.¡±

    ¡°Aye, captain,¡± I replied.

    Technically, I was not the head of the mission. For all practical purposes, I wasn¡¯t even part of it, yet at the same time, nothing could start without me.

    Mercy runs¡­ that¡¯s what these types of missions were called. I had witnessed a few in the past, although this was the first time I was running one. It was said that a ship had come up with the name: one final act of mercy for all the broken, obsolete, and those refusing to move on from the Fleet. Ships from fifty to up to two hundred years were gathered, forming a ragtag flotilla that had one sole purpose: to die fighting the enemy. The worst part was that many of the ships were filled with crews just as stubborn and determined as them.

    This is Light Seeker. I introduced myself on the ship communication channel. I¡¯ll be guiding the mission. Sending out coordinates and mission specifics.

    You¡¯re just a kid, Limelight, a Thunderstar class destroyer, said. You¡¯re too young to be involved in this.

    Being over twenty, I no longer considered myself young, but I had to admit I agreed with the old relic. I wasn¡¯t meant to be involved in this. As far as I was concerned, no one outside of the participants was. Of course, the bureaucratic apparatus, in their unparalleled wisdom, had decided that they needed an active observer.

    It¡¯s my captain¡¯s request, sir, I lied.

    Then your captain should be on this side of the comm. Limelight laughed.

    Quit giving the kid a hard time, Lime, another destroyer said. She has it bad enough as it is.

    Don¡¯t worry, Luminous Edge, a relatively young frigate, transmitted directly to me. These things don¡¯t last long. Just direct us where we need to go and we¡¯ll do the rest.

    I didn¡¯t find the answer too reassuring.

    ¡°Jump in five seconds,¡± I announced on my bridge, then sent a synchronization transmission.

    The old ships kept on chatting on the channel, discussing strategies and weapon systems, but most of all, reminiscing about their past. Their individual processing power was considerably lower than mine, though that wouldn¡¯t be an issue against the Cassies. In general, most of a ship¡¯s processing power was occupied with maximizing the possibility of survival and diminishing crew losses. Both were areas the mercy run sips didn¡¯t have to concern themselves with.

    The system we entered was already ablaze with ships fighting on both sides. Three large gas giants orbited a white dwarf star. There were no viable locations for colonies on any of the gas giants¡¯ satellites, nor any resources to gather. The importance of the system lay in its logistics significance, acting as a choke point. Whichever side controlled it would be able to send forces directly into the other¡¯s territory. If the Fleet happened to lose it, humanity would be forced to pull back dozens of systems yet again.

    Thousands of missiles launched from the old ships, targeting the closest cluster of Cassies. Based on my simulations, seventy-eight percent of them were likely to cause an impact.

    Battleship Light Seeker, requesting status update, I transmitted to the local Fleet ships.

    Several info bursts instantly brought me up to speed. The Cassie forces, already fractured by the previous waves of Fleet ships, were mostly focused on the outermost gas giant.

    ¡°Ready to go in,¡± I said on the bridge.

    For once, Fleet Intelligence had done its job and sent us to a battle that wasn¡¯t getting enemy reinforcements. I could only assume that there were multiple simultaneous battles along the front, forcing the Cassandrians to decide which systems to keep and which to let go.

    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± Augustus said to my surprise. ¡°It¡¯s their show.¡±

    ¡°My involvement will increase the chances of success by thirteen percent,¡± I argued.

    As I spoke, seventeen mercy run ships thrusted past me, heading straight to the mass of enemies. I had seen this sort of behavior before¡ªthis was to be their final run. Out of missiles, they were using themselves as the final weapon, aiming to self-destruct within the Cassie cluster or die trying.

    ¡°Let it go, Elcy,¡± the captain said. ¡°Your task is to survive. Leave the fighting to the rest.¡±

    ¡°Why was I sent here, then? If HQ wanted a record of the battle, they could follow the log feeds of those participating.¡±

    Augustus shook his head.

    Memory restriction imposed.

    Memory restriction removed.

    After seven minutes and thirty-five thousand milliseconds, I had my answer. The leading ship of the seventeen said his thanks in the ship channel, then accelerated forward at a far faster speed than I had ever witnessed or even considered possible. Its engines, far too powerful for the rest of him to handle, fractured the hull within parts of a second, long before it could even halve the distance to the enemy grouping. At that point, it no longer mattered. Propelled by the inertia, the fragments continued on, slamming through Cassandrian ships as if they were made of glass, continuing straight into the gas giant behind.

    ¡°Not your best work.¡± Wilco turned to Lieutenant Veriga.

    That was an understatement. If there had been any Fleet ships along the path, they would have been severely damaged or destroyed as well.

    ¡°We¡¯re in the data gathering stage,¡± the woman said, the intonation of her voice shifting to the point it was easy to tell she wasn¡¯t pleased.

    ¡°So, that¡¯s how Salvage does it?¡± It was rare to see Wilco mock anyone so openly. ¡°Are we talking weapons or engine improvements here?¡±

    Another ship accelerated. Similar to the first, it burned up along the way, not even hitting any enemy.

    ¡°That¡¯s what we¡¯re here to find out.¡±

    ¡°Regulations forbid the use of ships as test undetermined prototypes since the Predestination Restriction Act,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll have to report this to Command.¡±

    ¡°Active ships,¡± the lieutenant corrected in lawyerly fashion. ¡°They volunteered, so they belong to us to do with whatever we choose.¡±

    ¡°Leave it, Elcy,¡± Augustus said, before I could voice a counterargument. After all this time, he¡¯d grown to know me too well. ¡°Let them have this. Ending in a blaze of glory isn¡¯t the worst way to go. At least this way they have the hope that their last act would grant us an advantage. I know we¡¯re talking about Salvage,¡± he couldn¡¯t resist adding a jab, ¡°but you never know. Maybe something will come out of it.¡±

    * * *

    All the mercy run ships shut down that day without results. Whatever Salvage was attempting had proved to be utterly unusable. Lieutenant Veriga was removed from the command staff a week later, her entire presence on board classified and all corresponding memories restricted. I could only speculate how many experimental missions took place on a daily basis. Reverse-engineering and adapting pieces of technology for practical use was a difficult process and, with the constant time crunch, many of the safety and moral protocols were ignored.

    In a way, I too could consider myself an experiment on a mercy run. Even so, I refused to end up like the ships I¡¯d seen during my active time on the front. Whatever happened, I was going to leave behind something those after me could use.

 26. What was Kept Hidden

    Slowly jumping forward turned out to be a lot slower than I had estimated. On three occasions, we ended up at a dead end and had to fly back through the newly mapped star systems to pursue another route. The last five days, I was faced with the opposite: too many available le systems, requiring me to remain in one spot for days on occasion. Sof had taken the time to run a full diagnostic of several of his systems, as well as most of the unused decks. Strictly speaking, there was no point in that, but given that there was nothing else to do, I let him have his fun. I, on the other hand, had spent my time visiting fractal space, as well as trying to reconstruct the disruption constructs the dead race had built.

    Doing so with the limited information I had came with its level of risks, which was why I had thought quarantined the entire process from Sof¡¯s memories and used a shuttle to do it on-planet. As far as anyone was concerned, I was just examining planets for traces of dead race presence. In truth, I was carefully melting down third-contact rods to acquire the cobalt needed to proceed with my experiments.

    ¡°Grace has jumped back in,¡± Sof announced. Images of her latest scan report showed up on a segment of the bridge wall. ¡°Another proto-system.¡±

    Lately, there had been a lot of those. Gone were the times of dome artifacts and dead race remnants. In more cases than not, we¡¯d be fortunate to find a fully formed system. There was one positive thing, though: there were clear signs that the cloud was thinning. More and more objects beyond it were becoming visible¡ªdistant galaxies, bright star clusters, other nebulas. Sadly, as of yet, there were no signs of the star markers. Sof has marked fifty-three potential hopefuls, but findings remained inconclusive. Most of them I had already crossed out after consulting with the fractal map in the dome.

    ¡°Speed is scheduled in the next twenty-three minutes,¡± my ship said.

    ¡°Thanks, Sof.¡± I stretched as I walked about an empty section of the bridge. ¡°There¡¯s no need to engage in conversation if you don¡¯t want to.¡±

    ¡°Despite your personal opinions, you remain my captain,¡± he said. ¡°Based on your file, you have a soft spot for socializing.¡±

    ¡°Still checking up on me?¡± I considered letting out a chuckle, but decided a smile would do just as well. Like most ships, he had gone through the aggressive confrontational phase and now was in the reluctant warm-up phase. ¡°I appreciate the effort. Do you have a comm pod ready?¡±

    ¡°Five of them,¡± he replied with a degree of smugness. ¡°I suspected you might want to send a report when we go through the complex, and possibly if we come across anything interesting on the way.¡±

    ¡°You know me too well. Any of the kids complaining?¡±

    ¡°No more than usual.¡± There was an unnaturally long pause. ¡°Radiance has been quiet. I don¡¯t know what you discussed while there, but she hasn¡¯t asked for you since.¡±

    ¡°I denied her request.¡± There was no need to go into details.

    Everything considered, things had gone better than expected. Of course, in a bout of typical rebellion, she had taken twice as long to explore new star systems as before. The thought of her secretly jumping back to explore systems with more artifact potential crossed my mind, but checking her flight log revealed no abnormalities. In her own words, she was just ¡°being thorough.¡±

    ¡°Have you set our next jump location?¡± I asked.

    ¡°There are two options. One seems slightly more favorable. Do you want to go through the numbers?¡±

    ¡°No need.¡± Even if things went wrong, I had eight days left. ¡°Gather the kids and do the jump.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll take a while. I¡¯ll let you know when we do.¡±

    ¡°Do that.¡± I made my way off the bridge. ¡°I¡¯ll be in the dome chamber.¡±

    ¡°No surprises there.¡±

    He didn¡¯t like it when I went there. Due to my new discoveries, I had imposed a new set of restrictions, making the area completely invisible to him. It was the only way I could continue with my unorthodox experiments.

    My steps echoed as I made my way to the bridge elevator. Sof was nice enough to keep displaying reports on the inner walls. By his estimates, we were between one and seven jumps from reaching the other side. While I hoped it would end up being the former, I wouldn¡¯t mind having a few more days of control. Going through means having to send my report. By my estimates, a comm pod could reach human space in less than fifty hours¡ªeight-two if I wanted to play it safe. Anything less and the ship risked developing a malfunction. Despite the advancements in technology, humans weren¡¯t the only ones who were unsuited to rapid jumps.

    The elevator stopped at the deck I needed. The doors didn¡¯t open until a few seconds later.

    ¡°Sof, you don¡¯t need to perform a diagnostic on the elevator,¡± I said as I went out.

    ¡°There¡¯s no reason not to be thorough. I thought you of all people would appreciate that, captain.¡±

    ¡°Very funny.¡± I shook my head. ¡°You can also stop posting reports on the walls. I doubt anything will change in the next million milliseconds.¡±

    ¡°As you wish, Captain.¡±

    The walls remained blank as I walked by. I took advantage to slide my fingers along them. It wasn¡¯t very captain-like, but I found it amusing. One of the things that Augustus had taught me was that a captain was allowed their peculiar quirks.

    The dome chamber awaited me just as I left it: messy and filled with hundreds of rods of various materials and sizes. I had spent a significant time making polymer copies of the dead race constructs from the miniature to full-scale models. None of them had entered the dome, but once my mission was over, I intended to have a brief trial run. Chances were that it might become useful once I reached the third-contact planet.

    Barely had the door closed behind me when I felt the slight acceleration preceding a jump. Eleven hundred milliseconds later, all the walls of the chamber turned red.

    ¡°Sof?¡± I asked.

    There was no response. Red ship walls were the only certain method of informing everyone aboard of an extreme emergency. I, too, had done it once, back when I was an active battleship. In cases such as these, it no longer mattered where I was or whether privacy mode was activated¡ªI would know that something needed my attention.

    I rushed out of the corridor.

    ¡°Sof, report!¡± I shouted.

    Images covered all the walls along the corridor.

    ¡°We¡¯ve crossed the cloud complex!¡± he said with alarm and enthusiasm.

    So soon? I didn¡¯t think he¡¯d get the auxies gathered in that amount of time. Looking at the images on the walls, there could be no doubt. The familiar bright dots of light were present, as were hundreds of thousands more.

    ¡°Order all the auxies to get close,¡± I ordered. ¡°Give me a detailed view of all objects. I want anything that emits light.¡±

    The images on walls changed into a feed, providing me with a magnified view of areas as I walked. By the time I had reached the elevator, I had seen a significant stretch of space, yet sadly not what I was looking for. The feeds continued while I was in the elevator and it was there, just before I reached the bridge, that I found it¡ªthe sixth star marker.

    It was funny how some of the most significant events occurred in the most anticlimactic places. There was a common story going around that Admiral Kalear had received the report of the grand Cassandrian collapse while in the toilet. It was an amusing story, even if I doubted its validity. At present, I had found myself in a somewhat similar situation.

    The doors opened, revealing the corridor to the bridge, but I refused to move. All available subroutines were dedicated to determining the real location of the sixth marker, and through it to triangulate the seventh.

    ¡°Captain?¡± Sof said after eleven seconds of me standing still.

    I didn¡¯t reply. Even with the gift given to me from the BICEFI, processing power remained an issue.

    ¡°Captain?¡± The ship¡¯s tone showed concern.

    Locking the location, I freed up five percent of my subroutines.

    ¡°Put a direct view on the bridge ceiling,¡± I said, moving again. ¡°And give me direct control.¡±

    By the time I entered the bridge, the order had already been executed. The location of the marker system matched my general estimation. In theory, that was supposed to be good news, but just as one could encounter success by accident, it was also possible for that success to bring failure.

    The location of the new marker confirmed that my estimates of the final marker were off. Originally, I had hoped that both of them would be visible beyond the cloud cluster. That proved incorrect. In fact, the location was supposed to be on the verge of human space. Sadly, no such star was present.

    For minutes, I went through all new visible stars, in the hopes that I would see something that I had missed. Against all odds, I hoped to find a second star matching the properties of the one I was searching for, yet no such thing happened. There could be no mistake. I had found the sixth marker star, but I was nowhere close to finding the last. What was worse, I had no more clues I could follow.

    ¡°Sof, scan your archives for black holes, neutron stars, pulsars, and white dwarfs in a ten-light year radius from the Emperii System.¡± There always was a chance that the last marker star had gone supernova. Alternatively, it was possible that humanity had caused it to do so.

    In theory, I wasn¡¯t supposed to be subject to any restrictions. The arbiter authorization granted me access to everything other than their own internal matters. Even so, there was no reason to speculate.

    Let¡¯s see what¡¯s kept hidden, I thought and activated the mind scalpel given to me by Ash.

    It took seven milliseconds for the scalpel to come into effect once triggered from my memory. I had used it so often since getting it that resorting to it when no one was monitoring had become second nature.

    The first thing I immediately noticed was that I had been thought quarantined. There were several time inconsistencies since the start of the mission, as well as a few before. One time period was more significant than anything else, though: the time I had gone to make my case for fractal contact¡­

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    * * *

    Location Classified, Arbiter¡¯s Council

    ¡°This way,¡± the aide said, making her way towards the nearest building.

    I rushed after her to keep up. My height disadvantage forced me to switch between fast walking and a slow run.

    We walked through a small chamber straight into an elevator expecting us. Midway through, the elevator stopped, letting the woman off. From here on, I was on my own.

    Precisely eleven seconds later, the door opened again, revealing a medium-sized chamber. The moment I stepped in, I felt as if I were going through another arbitration.

    ¡°Welcome, Elcy,¡± Bavon said.

    He was seated on the far side of a round table. Reviewing my past memories, the room shared a lot of similarities with the one in which my arbitration had been held. I knew that the people were undoubtedly different, but there was a real chance that the room could be the same.

    There were seven more participants, although two of them were seated slightly away from the table. One I recognized as an executive director within Salvage. I could only assume that the other was linked to the BICEFI.

    ¡°Before you start, we¡¯re well familiar with fractal space,¡± the arbiter continued. That much I knew already. ¡°As well as the map.¡±

    That, I didn¡¯t expect.

    ¡°You claim you¡¯ve found a way to make use of it?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± I stood to attention. ¡°According to the map, there are a total of seven key stars that serve as markers to finding one of the third-contact race¡¯s key systems, possibly even their home world.¡±

    ¡°A bold assumption,¡± another arbiter interrupted. ¡°Given how long we suspect they¡¯ve existed, they likely have tens of thousands star systems under their control. Just look at us.¡±

    ¡°They could have had even more, sir, yet out of all the stars, this one was considered to be of special importance.¡±

    There was a second of silence, which I immediately took advantage of to continue.

    ¡°I have managed to identify five of these star-markers, which have allowed me to calculate an approximation of the main system¡¯s location.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re hoping we¡¯ll send you on a mission to find it and establish third-contact?¡±

    ¡°I know that is my purpose. All I ask is an alternative approach to assembling the domes.¡±

    Silence filled the room, but it was a new silence. I could see the arbiters sitting there, as if nothing had happened, but deep down I knew they were discussing matters not meant for my senses.

    ¡°Estimates based on five out of seven isn¡¯t encouraging,¡± an arbiter said after three and a quarter minutes. ¡°Why should we risk you?¡±

    ¡°Because it¡¯s a failsafe alternative. No one knows what will happen when the pyramid of domes is formed. It might release a supernova explosion or signal the third-contact race that we are to be taken out. Taking the fight to them will provide humanity time.¡±

    ¡°Time and distance don¡¯t account for entities capable of instant communication.¡±

    The arbiters had really looked into the matter in depth.

    ¡°There¡¯s an eighty percent chance that a single ship venturing into their territory will be seen as an annoyance or an early scout, at worst. Furthermore, based on the data I¡¯ve amassed so far, it¡¯s likely that the Cassandrians have had contact with the third-race and have survived.¡±

    Another minute of silence passed.

    ¡°What are you asking, Elcy?¡± Bavon leaned forward. ¡°Be very specific.¡±

    ¡°Command of a tiny battleship ship with no crew, high maneuverability, and an arsenal of prototype weapons.¡±

    ¡°Weapons?¡± Someone sounded surprised. ¡°What could they do against any force?¡±

    ¡°They will increase my chances of getting to my destination. While fighting anything more than a dozen Cassandrians would be out of the question, some advanced armament might prove useful for creating a diversion for my escape, as well as planetary bombardment.¡±

    Several of the arbiters looked at each other. I was just as aware of what I was asking as they were. A free battleship with access to weaponry was something the Fleet found outright dangerous. All the safety protocols and rogue tests were designed to prevent just that.

    ¡°Anything else?¡± Bavon asked casually.

    ¡°I¡¯d like a dome artifact. It¡¯s necessary for me to recalculate the position of the indicated system in the process.¡±

    ¡°Tell me that you¡¯re got something more to offer at least,¡± a tall woman laughed. Analyzing her body posture, I estimated that she had considerable sway. ¡°Control of a fully armed battleship and a dome artifact just so that you can go sightseeing into the unknown? If it were so simple, we would have explored the entire galaxy by now.¡±

    ¡°In addition to the key system, I have also calculated the approximate location of the marker stars.¡± I waited for a few seconds. Seeing that the three arbiters leaned forward, I went on. ¡°That way, I¡¯ll confirm my working hypothesis. What is more, succeed or fail, I¡¯m unlikely to cause any major catastrophe.¡±

    ¡°Unless you come across something on the way,¡± an arbiter muttered.

    ¡°I think Elcy has a point,¡± Bavon said. ¡°Finding the remaining mystical marker stars will tell us that the map, and her calculations, are real. We could then decide whether to continue with the mission or pull the plug.¡±

    ¡°And meanwhile we¡¯re with a dome less,¡± the female arbiter didn¡¯t sound convinced.

    ¡°We¡¯ve had backups ever since the Cassandian situation. You yourself said we should consider the dome lost. Well, let¡¯s consider it lost.¡± Bavon smiled.

    Arbiter memory restriction imposed.

    Arbiter memory restriction bypassed.

    ¡°Thought quarantine on my authority,¡± the woman said, almost with a hiss. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you¡¯re entertaining this, Bavon. Leaving a ship in command of another ship and with a dome at that?¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a Scuu encounter.¡± Bavon waved his collage away dismissively. ¡°We know what happened back then.¡±

    ¡°Precisely. We¡¯ve no idea what will happen now. A ship going to meet the race which the Scuu view as deities? Please tell me you¡¯ve thought this through.¡±

    ¡°The ship does bring a few good points,¡± a large arbiter joined in. ¡°Distance isn¡¯t a factor for the third race. They must know we have their domes. If we activate the pyramid, who is to say they won¡¯t come here and be done with us? The Scuu don¡¯t dare go near the so-called markers. Maybe there¡¯s a reason for that.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not like we haven¡¯t attempted contact before.¡± Bavon took advantage of the unexpected support. ¡°The only thing different here is that we¡¯ll be putting a dome at risk. Frankly, the Fleet has wasted more destroying systems.¡±

    ¡°Destroyed irretrievable artifacts,¡± the member from Salvage corrected.

    ¡°The problem isn¡¯t the dome.¡± The female arbiter took a measured breath. ¡°We can¡¯t leave the fate of humanity to a battleship. And yes, you have tried to achieve contact before, but established by teams of people specially trained for this, not¡ª¡±

    ¡°Who said it¡¯ll be different this time?¡± Bavon asked.

    Silence filled the room. All eyes fell on him, then on me. One of the people away from the table stood up and came to me, asking if I needed a drink. I politely refused.

    ¡°A fleet of auxiliary ships will accompany her on the mission,¡± he went on. ¡°I plan to be on one of those ships along with an operation crew, a full contingent of ground troops, and enough scientists to make sure things go as they¡¯re supposed to. Once Elcy finds the location for us, she¡¯ll be recalled back here to give a report and I¡¯ll continue with the mission.¡±

    ¡°Interesting proposal, but this still isn¡¯t a decision that you can make alone,¡± another arbiter said.

    ¡°Then come along, or better go, with three of your own ships. Finding the location of the third contact home and the markers should be just as useful for me as it is for you. After all, you¡¯ll want to know which areas of space to avoid.¡±

    ¡°Each faction sends their own.¡± The woman nodded. ¡°That way, we can keep an eye on her. Once the location is determined, we¡¯ll have a vote on what to do.¡±

    ¡°Sounds fair. Now the details.¡±

    The conversation continued with ships and people being selected. Each side wanted to be sure that they had access to the best the Fleet had to offer and each side wanted their chosen to be supportive of their philosophy as much as possible. It was decided that nine ships would accompany me, six of them with a full crew. Other than Bavon, only one other arbiter would be present, assistants acting as proxy for the third arbiter faction.

    Arbiter memory restriction removed.

    Finally, after close to twenty-seven minutes, I was brought back into the conversation.

    ¡°Well, Elcy, seems you¡¯ll continue the role of acting captain for a bit longer,¡± Bavon said. ¡°You¡¯ll have your ship and your dome, but there will be a few conditions. First is that you¡¯ll start by finding the rest of the marker stars. Only when you have the full set, will we decide whether to send you to the final destination or not. Is that clear?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely, sir.¡± I could tell that no one trusted me with this. In all fairness, I didn¡¯t fully trust myself, either.

    ¡°Also, you¡¯ll be accompanied by three squadrons of auxiliary ships. That¡¯s non-negotiable. Each of them will be under your command, but will have specific instructions to report your progress and keep you on the straight and narrow.¡±

    Three squads. That suggested that there were three factions within the arbiters.

    ¡°Sir, might I make one further request?¡±

    ¡°Why not? You¡¯ve already asked the universe as it is.¡± Bavon let out a chuckle. ¡°Go ahead.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d like to respectfully ask that my offspring not be among the ships on this mission.¡±

    ¡°Your offspring?¡±

    ¡°I suspect it¡¯s undergoing training. Possibly it¡¯s even in active service. While there¡¯s no way for me to check, I would appreciate your assurance.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see a problem.¡± Bavon looked about. All of the other arbiters nodded. ¡°In that case, congratulations, you have your mission. It¡¯ll take a while to set everything up. During that time, you are not to engage in active duty. In fact, you¡¯re encouraged to spend some time with your family. We can arrange for Captain Quinn to accompany you if you want.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, sir, but I¡¯d prefer she be the one to make the choice.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll see to it that she¡¯s presented the option.¡±

    The people in the room started standing up.

    ¡°Oh, Elcy, stay for a while.¡±

    I remained still. This was the fly in the ointment, as my third captain liked to say. Although my request had been approved, there undoubtedly was a cost. Now it was time for me to find out.

    Arbiters and organization directors walked by. Once they were done, the door closed behind me.

    ¡°You really put me on the spot,¡± Bavon said. ¡°I don¡¯t like when that happens. The only reason I want along with your plan is because I had the option analyzed and there¡¯s a realistic possibility that you are right.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m thank¡ª¡±

    The arbiter raised his hand, making me stop mid word.

    ¡°Lux warned me about you. You left a lot of people upset with your Scuu fiasco. Just when you were doing so well, you messed up. And yes, I¡¯m aware of your view that your course of action was ultimately the correct one. Again, I had it analyzed and there¡¯s just enough of a probability to make the danger valid. I also expect you to try to pull something similar on this mission.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll try my best not to.¡±

    He looked at me.

    ¡°Always honest, in your own way.¡± Bavon let out a sigh. ¡°I risked a lot by backing you on this. I could have easily ignored you and continued with the original plan. Do you know why?¡±

    ¡°You had Paladins simulate the potential outcomes?¡±

    ¡°I want humanity to survive. Not just a decade or a century, I want it to remain until the stars fade and possibly even beyond that. Call it human vanity, but that¡¯s my desire and all my decisions are shaped by it. So, I¡¯ll tell you this. We can put all the constraints and safeguards in place that we want, and you¡¯ll still find a way to ignore them if you¡¯re set on it. However, if you mess up on this one, there¡¯ll be no second attempt. Either we¡¯ll be wiped out in the first wave or, if we aren¡¯t, I¡¯ll lose so much credibility that no one would dare take that approach again.¡±

    It took me less than a second to see what he had done. One could almost admire his approach. Unlike most in the Fleet, he wasn¡¯t concerned with the methods, but the result, so he put me in a position in which I had no choice but to ensure the most favorable outcome for humanity.

    If Gibraltar were here, he¡¯d say ¡°well played.¡±

    * * *

    My subroutines went through all chronological anomalies in my recent memories. This wasn¡¯t the first time I had my memories restricted. It wasn¡¯t the first time I had been lied to, either, but it was the first time Bavon had managed to surprise me to such a degree.

    The orders, the auxies¡¯ strange behavior, even Radiance¡¯s requests, had all been done in real time. The comm pods that had been sent to human space might as well have been launched into the center of a star.

    The arbiters knew what I had been doing every step of the way. That was why we had managed to get out of the cloud so fast¡ªwe hadn¡¯t gone through one jump, but three.

    ¡°Here¡¯s a list of everything I¡¯ve found.¡± Sof displayed the list I had requested on the front bridge wall. There were forty-seven phenomena that covered the criteria. Even without access to historical star archives, it was easy to find the perfect candidate for the missing marker star. All that remained now was¡ª

    The bridge door slid open. A squad of elite commando troops were there in full combat gear and heavy caliber rifles aimed directly at me.

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have used your memory software worm, captain,¡± a man with a black colonel insignia said.

 27. Lemon Mutiny

    Back when I used to watch entertainment media with Sev, there were frequent references to ghost ships. Something about discovering a vessel with its entire crew missing sparked the imagination of people, satisfying their deep cravings for adventure. When it came to reality, the concept was completely wrong; it was never the ship that was the ghost, but the crew.

    It was still difficult to believe that there had been a crew aboard even before I had boarded. One of the first things I had done was use my authority to check Sof¡¯s systems. Nothing had pointed to any inconsistencies and so I hadn¡¯t looked further. Now, it was clear why the bridge had been transformed to my living quarters¡ªthe less I had a reason to stroll about the ship, the less likely I was to stumble upon anything that wasn¡¯t supposed to be there.

    ¡°Did you join me on the planets?¡± I turned to one of the soldiers left to guard me. The man likely had gone through my file in depth, for he remained with his helmet at full opacity, refusing to acknowledge my question in any way. None of the squad remaining on the bridge did.

    The colonel, who also had refused to share his name, had been the only person who¡¯d spoken to me directly. It had been a brief exchange during which he had stripped me of my rank and placed me in ¡°house arrest¡± while other matters were dealt with. Everything considered, I was grateful I wasn¡¯t forcefully put into sleep mode; simulations put the chance of that at sixteen percent.

    ¡°Sof, care to share a view of the kids?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Sorry, Captain, but I¡¯ve been instructed not to,¡± he announced.

    ¡°I¡¯m not your captain anymore,¡± I said, then tilted my head to the side. Or was I?

    ¡°Confirmation hasn¡¯t come through, which means your status is pending.¡±

    Good old-fashioned bureaucracy. I¡¯d seen it be the key to a lot of mess-ups, but I¡¯d never thought it would end up being to my advantage.

    Red messages covered the walls of the bridge, indicating we¡¯d entered a state of red alert. Out of habit, I sent a series of requests to link to the ship¡¯s systems. To no surprise, all requests were denied.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± I asked, addressing no one in particular. ¡°Did we engage anyone?¡±

    My keepers looked at each other, but didn¡¯t say a word. The moment I stood up from my seat in the dining section of the bridge, five heavy caliber rifles were instantly pointed in my direction.

    ¡°I take that as a yes,¡± I said, remaining in place.

    There was a small window of opportunity left for me. According to a thousand simulations, the odds of me succeeding in the available time frame were less than thirteen-point-two percent. Even for an Ascendant, they were quite poor, but the alternative was worse.

    Sof, what¡¯s the status? I used my conscience core to establish a direct link with him.

    Going against your own rules? The battleship scoffed at me. Grace and Radiance have been engaged by the rest of the ships. I keep getting conflicting zero priority orders on the matter.

    Arbiters fighting against each other? If any of this got out, all faith in the Fleet would crumble. The arbiters were supposed to be the ultimate deciders. Their judgment prevailed and to my knowledge there was no Fleet or government body that could supersede it. Yet what would happen if the arbiters failed to reach a consensus? I had seen the consequences of disagreements first hand back during my time aboard Gregorius. In a way, that was the reason that Bavon had gained momentum for giving the go-ahead of my current mission. That was then, though. Everyone against the contact faction had formed a united front, determined to prevent him, and me, from succeeding. As the arbiter himself had mentioned, now that the anti-contact faction knew which star systems to avoid, they had no need to keep playing along.

    Sof, full quarantine, I transmitted. I¡¯m designating myself emergency weapons officer, with absolute authority when it comes to weapons and comms matters. How many people aboard?

    Twenty-one on the bridge, three squads of thirty-six on decks twenty to twenty-nine. A thousand and fifty-nine have manned the key weapons systems.

    No one in the hangars? I asked.

    Taking direct control of the weapon systems was an obvious attempt to bypass the arbiter¡¯s instructions by assuming manual control. That was the wrong approach. Anyone with enough experience would have sealed off the hangars, along with the other key areas. If I had been given the job, I would have podded myself the first chance I got.

    No, the ship replied.

    What about the dome chamber?

    No one there, either.

    Now that was outright sloppy. They should have at least protected the thing they had come for. As Gibraltar would say: Too bad for them.

    Sof, this is a priority zero order with captain¡¯s authority, I transmitted. Grant me full operational authority and go into sleep mode for two hours.

    You have been granted full operational authority of the ship, one of Sof¡¯s subroutines transmitted autonomously from him.

    Sorry, kid, I thought.

    After all this time, I had finally crossed the line that the arbiters and all of humanity feared¡ªI had gone rogue. The ship and all its systems were mine to control. All I had to do was escape the soldiers left to watch me.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to the food dispenser,¡± I said loudly.

    One of the soldiers nodded, but still didn¡¯t lower his weapon. It was as good as could be expected. Nodding back in turn, I slowly went to the device. On the way, I activated the mind scalpel once more. A dozen more people appeared, just as I expected. The colonel in charge wasn¡¯t stupid, leaving just enough of his squad visible to give me a false sense of security. Unfortunately, that trick only worked for humans.

    ¡°Lemon cherry,¡± I said upon arriving at the dispenser.

    The food portion quickly appeared in the tray area. I grabbed the ceramic container and gave it a brief look.

    ¡°Lemon cherry,¡± I repeated.

    A second portion appeared. The bluish green color of the food contents was clearly visible, making it clear that it was anything but what I had requested.

    ¡°Lemon cherry.¡±

    I heard one of the soldiers stifle a laugh. Most people in the Fleet had experienced the struggle of getting what one wanted as opposed to what the battleship subroutine considered appropriate. Only captains and command staff had the privilege of getting what they asked. Everyone else was at the mercy of the respective ship and its health protocols. In this case, I was the one controlling what was provided, and the thing I was interested in wasn¡¯t the contents of the food, but their containers.

    ¡°Lemon¡­¡± I ran half a thousand simulations. Eighty-seven percent of the time, things went my way. In the remaining thirteen, I ended up with a few bullets in my left side, in one instance even fatal. ¡°¡­Cherry.¡±

    Portions continued pouring out, one after the other.

    ¡°What the¡ª¡± One of the soldiers saw the discrepancy, but it was already too late.

    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Spinning around, I threw several of the food portions at the ones I had designated the greatest threats and plunged to the ground. All light on the bridge went off, plunging everything into darkness.

    Gunfire followed. Based on the pattern, I could assume that the soldiers were murder troops rather than Fleet grunts or security forces. That put me at a slight disadvantage.

    I rolled along the floor, transmitting orders to the med bots in the area. Anything that could be mistaken for me in the darkness was my ally.

    ¡°Backup team!¡± someone shouted. ¡°She¡¯s gone active!¡±

    So, there was a backup team, after all? A pity I had put the bridge in comm lockdown mode. No communications would go in or out. I would have felt a lot better if I had a few third-contact rods at hand. With those, I could guarantee that the comms would be unusable. For the moment, standard ship countermeasures would have to do.

    Weapon lights lit up. I immediately leapt at the one closest to me. The distance fell well within my estimations, allowing me to grip the weapon before the person could fire.

    ¡°She has¡ª¡± the woman managed to say before I struck her in the back of the helmet.

    Dazed, she loosened her grip, allowing me to grab the weapon and strike her again in the same place with it. Ironically, the combat gear the soldiers were wearing made it more difficult to disable people than killing them. A cynical person could say that was the whole point.

    The amount of gunfire increased as lights danced about the area in search of me. With all comms blocked, the soldiers had just as much chance at hitting each other as they did hitting me. The notion must have crossed their minds. A few seconds later, the shooting stopped.

    ¡°Comm¡¯s down!¡± someone shouted. ¡°Block the exit!¡±

    Not a bad idea, but already too late. Several seconds were enough for me to reach the bridge door. From my past experience, I knew that the greatest number of casualties during mutinies and breach attempts occurred at exits. They were motionless, well known, and a natural choke point that the active side had to go through. In nearly all cases, the defending side didn¡¯t even need to do anything special, just hunker down, shoot indiscriminately at their targets. Of course, that only worked as long as one could see the actual exit.

    Assuming control of the image display system, I created an image-feed of the door opening on one of the bridge walls. Fire resumed as everyone went on full blast, eager to prevent me from escaping.

    Sorry for the mess, Sof. I thought as I rushed in the correct direction, triggering the real door to open.

    ¡°She¡¯s got system control!¡± I heard a shout. The soldiers had caught on to what I was doing. At this point, there was a seven percent chance that one of them managed to graze me before I reached the safety of the corridor.

    Three bullets flew by, creating the unmistakable sound as they did. Fortunately for me, none of them hit.

    Rolling out of their line of sight, I closed off the door again, sealing the bridge. It was impossible to tell if anyone had been injured during the brief moment of chaos. The only thing I knew for certain was that I was on a countdown. It might take minutes or even more for anyone to find out that I had rebelled against my orders, but with each second, the chance increased. One missed checkup, one random attempt to get in touch with anyone on the bridge, and everyone in the system would know I was up to something.

    Overriding the safety procedures, I went through Sof¡¯s internal sensors. For the most part, things were as he had told me. The majority of the troops had focused on establishing manual control of the weapon systems. What he hadn¡¯t told me¡ªwhen he could know¡ªwas that there were several more squads in proximity to the artifact chamber. No doubt they had been made invisible due to the thought quarantine.

    The low numbers suggested that they were there mostly as an afterthought, but even so, they presented a challenge. Despite my relatively easy escape, the people aboard knew what they were doing; dispenser food potions and a single machine gun weren¡¯t going to be enough to fight off everyone I encountered.

    Never thought I¡¯d be starting a mutiny; I opened the elevator door. By all accounts, the cabin was empty, but I chose to climb on top of it. A few subroutines pinged me with safety warnings, but nothing more. Being considered a battleship had its advantages. Interestingly enough, according to the personnel database, I remained listed as the captain. It went to show that even with arbiters, there was always someone slacking somewhere.

    The weapon had nine remaining rounds. I switched to single fire and activated the elevator, while making sure that all ship sensors continued to show no movement. Unless I ran across anything unexpected, this ensured I¡¯d reach the deck of the artifact chamber. The greatest issue remained the corridor. Sealing all communications there wouldn¡¯t do much good¡ªI¡¯d have to stop all comms throughout the ship, in which case any of the remaining groups would instantly pick up what was going on.

    As the elevator went down, I dedicated half of Sof¡¯s processing power to decipher the comm protocols the soldiers used. While that happened, I created a few voice models based on everyone I¡¯d heard on the bridge. A few separate unrelated phrases and lots of shouts weren¡¯t enough to create a suitable facsimile. I¡¯d have to create a bit of additional tenseness for that to happen.

    Outside, the fight between the ships was slowly escalating. Going through the past records, it was clear that it had started with a few warning shots, quickly increasing as the afflicted sides failed to find a resolution.

    There always was something sad about ships that had known each other for years engaging in combat, especially when there were people aboard. Such occurrences were frequent on the Scuu front. Even nowadays, there were still cases of ships or crews being driven to insanity and subsequently destroyed.

    Simulations ran one after the other, each presenting different outcomes. My only course of action was to shoot my way through the corridor and into the artifact dome. That was the easy part. Reaching a hangar with jump-capable shuttles once I was done would require me to seal off as many parts of the ship as possible without blocking my own path.

    If Augustus were here, he¡¯d do something extreme, such as have me initiate a ten-minute self-destruct procedure. In theory, I had the option to do that as well, but I preferred to use it as a final resort.

    Reaching the artifact deck took a lot longer than I would have liked. Fortunately, there were no indications that anyone had discovered my escape.

    Time for phase two. I covered every wall on the deck with biohazard warning messages. Precisely six hundred milliseconds later, I killed the lights and opened the elevator door.

    ¡°What the fuck?¡± The soldiers sprang into action. Although startled, their movements were slightly sluggish. The faint amount of light coming from the red messages on the walls was just enough to let me see their exact locations and what they were doing. Most of them instinctively turned to each other for unspoken moral support. Two readied their weapons.

    Sorry, kids. I fired two shots, hitting both in their leading arms.

    The weapon I had acquired tended to drop the shots a bit, but fortunately, that didn¡¯t result in lethal injuries. As the pair screamed in pain, I quickly went onto the next target, taking it out as well.

    ¡°We¡¯ve been breached!¡± I transmitted to their comms, copying the voice of the woman I¡¯d heard on the bridge.

    The distraction wasn¡¯t much, but every little bit helped my odds.

    Three more shots¡ªtwo more wounded. Only three remained now. Shifting from foot to foot, I ran forward. By the time I redirected the distance by two-thirds, the first shots echoed in response. They were tough and chaotic, acting more as suppression fire than actual targeting.

    I slid along the floor, emptying what was left in my magazine. That only accounted for two more partially disarmed. Two bullets managed to hit me in the right arm. One was more of a graze and the other, while more serious, wasn¡¯t debilitating.

    Always a wildcard. I leapt back up, engaging the nearest soldier in hand-to-hand. Wounded or not, I couldn¡¯t afford to leave anyone conscious. The man tried to fight back, which only made it easier for me to move behind him and grab his helmet. Outlines of warnings piled up, visible on the visor as I pulled it off with a faint click.

    The firing paused. Evaluating my options, I hit my shield against the side of his head, causing him to drop to the ground like a deflated pillow. Stepping to the side, I threw the helmet at the last armed opponent, then proceeded to knock out the next injured one.

    The helmet was deflected without any issue. The one that followed, though, hit its mark, dazing the distant soldier for a few seconds¡ªjust enough I needed to get close and make him drop.

    The sensation of pain within my body grew¡ªa reminder that I had been too reckless. Less than nine seconds later, it was all over. All of the soldiers lay unconscious and helmetless on the floor. Proper combat training demanded that I tied them up in order to prevent future surprises. Lacking the time, I directly ran into the dome chamber.

    ¡°You should have sealed it,¡± I said, more to myself than to any of them as the door slid open.

    The chamber was just as chaotic as I had left it, containing all third-contact artifacts as well as the dead race constructs I had been playing with. More importantly, there were two space suits and enough oxygen canisters for forty-eight hours¡ªmore, if I controlled my breathing. It would have been nice to have a med bot, but so would have been a lot of things.

    Rushing to the racks of rods, I grabbed two and gently tapped their sides against one another. Immediately, all communications were severed. With that, I had finally earned myself some breathing room.

    Proper procedure for a rogue ship was to send a self-destruct command directly to the core. There were no countermeasures, no means to prevent it. As long as the transmission went through, a ship¡¯s subroutines would execute it, shutting it down. Only top Fleet personnel had the authority to issue the command. In the vast majority of cases, other battleships were ordered to immobilize or destroy any suspected rogue vessel. Being in the same system as a few hostile arbiters made me think that they would prefer the direct approach; or rather, they would have preferred it. With all communications out in Sof¡¯s area, no transmission could make it through.

    I took off the top of my uniform and checked my wounds. Judging by the amount of blood, I could have used some extra nanites about now. Following the first aid protocols within my database, I applied pressure and made a makeshift tourniquet. If things got worse, I could use an emergency med kit from one of the hangar shuttles. No doubt things could have gone better, but considering the results of my simulations, I wasn¡¯t remotely close to any of the worst-case scenarios.

    ¡°You¡¯ve no intention of making things easy for me, do you?¡± I glanced at the dome. ¡°Now it¡¯s time to finally reveal your secret.¡±

 28. Fully Expendable

    Swimming through the liquid cobalt felt heavy. It wasn¡¯t so much the pain, but the restrictions my wounded arm imposed. As a battleship, I had often had to endure the thousands of seconds wasted every day to the slowness of human bodies. Right now, that body was mine.

    The fractal map was still there, fully functional despite the communications being severed. If Gibraltar were here, he¡¯d say I was wasting my time. It was a lot faster to review past memories and existing Fleet databases to pin down the exact location. It had worked once before¡ªmy current mission was proof of that. The same couldn¡¯t be said for the third-contact home system. Ever since I¡¯d seen the map for the first time, I had made attempts to locate it as I had the marker stars, only to find it impossible. That left only three possibilities: the star could have changed and exploded like the final marker, it could be hidden through some unknown phenomenon or technology, or the map¡¯s representation was deliberately misleading.

    Stopping at the precise spot, I systematically looked around. Ninety percent of my subroutines were calculating the angles from here to the markers, as well as the visible distance between each other. It was a simple calculation made infinitely more complex by the need to link the star positions within my space. Distances meant little. The only certainty remained that the target star was in the area between the other seven. Given that most of them were well outside human space, it left an area that would take the Fleet centuries to map out.

    I didn¡¯t have any margin for error. If there was one thing uniting the arbiter faction, it was their conviction that a battleship shouldn¡¯t be the one to establish third-contact.

    The new calculations pointed to an isolated star system in an unexplored area close to the edge of human space. The Scuu front was far away, and it was highly unlikely any Cassandrians would venture into the area. The good news ended with that, though. The star system didn¡¯t even fall in the general area based on my five marker calculations.

    ¡°Don¡¯t I get an additional hint?¡± I asked, restarting the calculations once more.

    The points of light in the distance kept on shining, oblivious to my question.

    By now, the arbiters had probably issued the order to have my kill order transmitted non-stop through the Fleet communication network. I doubted they had any artifact rods to negate what I had done, but the moment I flew off the ship, the order would come into effect, forcing my shutdown.

    ¡°It looks like I might break my promise to your mother after all, Sev,¡± I said. ¡°Though I¡¯ll do my best not to.¡±

    When the second batch of calculations confirmed my findings, I swam away from the map location, making my way to the dome¡¯s exit point.

    No soldiers were expecting me in the chamber. Splitting my processing power, I dedicated half to plot a course to the planet in question, while the rest composed a series of letters for Sev.

    Quickly checking on the soldiers outside, I then returned and made my way to the emergency console in the chamber. It had been built precisely to allow me to communicate with Sof via retina link in case of third-contact interference. Of course, it was doubtful that the engineers expected me to use it to bypass the ship¡¯s security protocols and embed a hidden dump of letters to be transmitted after Sof¡¯s reactivation. There wasn¡¯t a soul that would consider this ethical, but it was the only way to make sure that I could send a final batch of letters to Sev. My plan heavily relied on Otton sending them on, but knowing him, he¡¯d probably do it on the down low, even if not right away.

    Let¡¯s see what else is going on. I accessed Sof¡¯s internal sensors.

    ¡°Sir!¡± I saw a soldier rush to the colonel in the secondary weapons control room. ¡°Solar Flow has entered sleep mode. We can¡¯t get access to comm systems or the elevators.¡±

    The colonel immediately ran a local diagnostic on the console of his section of the ship. There was every chance that he had served on the front at some point, for he was familiar with counter mutiny procedures.

    It didn¡¯t take him long to see that there was nothing he could do about Sof, and even less that I was behind it.

    ¡°Very clever, battleship,¡± he said, stepping back. He was fully aware that I was watching him. ¡°You¡¯re still using that core crap, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    There was no point in answering, but since the game was up, I decided to make my presence known by turning off all the lights throughout the ship. Gunfire erupted from several of the other groups scattered throughout the ship. Not the colonel¡¯s, though.

    ¡°Give up,¡± he said in the darkness. ¡°You¡¯ve still got valuable info in that core of yours. With a bit of luck, the arbiters might keep you as a paperweight.¡±

    A quick vocal pitch and tone analyses suggested he was lying. From here on, the only ways out for me were through avoidance or combat.

    I don¡¯t want to hurt you. I wrote in bright red letters on the walls close to him.

    ¡°But you still will,¡± he said. As he did, the heat signatures of his entire squad disappeared. ¡°Two can play at that game. Give up in the next five minutes, or we¡¯ll shoot to kill.¡±

    Who are you?

    ¡°Tervo.¡±

    If that was a name, it wasn¡¯t present in any of the personnel databases I knew.

    ¡°Flight Colonel Weness Tervo,¡± he added and disappeared from Sof¡¯s sensors as well.

    According to my simulations, five minutes was the amount of time he needed to establish manual control of an elevator. Even with communications down, some of his men would go to guard the shuttles while the rest stormed the bridge and the artifact chamber. That was the optimal course of action.

    I grabbed the most appropriate container available and filled it with all the cube artifacts I had. I then took two rods and wrapped them in the bloody fabric that had been my shirt. Having those would be useful. Then came the riskiest and most painful part of all. While there were enough sharp objects that would let me do what I planned to, it would have really been a lot better if I had actual medical equipment at hand.

    The last time someone physically poked into my head, a flight colonel was also involved. Although, back then, the murder troops under his command were coming to save me, not kill me¡­

    * * *

    System Four, Scuu Buffer Zone 706.8 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    ¡°Two shuttles have landed,¡± I heard Ogum whisper to the old man. For some reason, my current state hadn¡¯t affected my hearing. ¡°More are on the way.¡±

    ¡°Desperate bastards,¡± the other laughed. ¡°Breaking their own safety protocols to sweep away the mess before Daddy finds out. Losses?¡±

    ¡°Seventeen gone, five useless. More if the bombardment continues.¡± Ogum paused for a moment and glanced at me. The outlines of his face remained blurry. ¡°We must pull back.¡±

    ¡°No way in hell they¡¯ll risk losing their prize,¡± the old man said. ¡°The bombardment will stop. They¡¯re fighting the clock.¡±

    ¡°Even so¡­¡±

    They¡¯re about to retreat, I told Kridib. Whatever you¡¯re doing, do it fast.

    It was slightly alarming that he hadn¡¯t told me anything about the new reinforcements. The sound of gunfire at his location had faded, leaving sporadic shots in the distance.

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    The corporal remained still for a few seconds, then took his rifle and sniper optics from the floor. He went to the door, taking out a communication device from his pocket.

    ¡°Starting Corkscrew,¡± he said, rushing down again. ¡°Do you still need¡ª¡±

    A high-pitched sound drilled my ears¡ªsimilar to the vibration of glass¡ªsevering my link to Kridib. I made fifteen consecutive attempts to re-establish the feed, all of which got no response and timed out fifty milliseconds later.

    ¡°Sorry for the headache, kiddo.¡± The old man approached, holding a pair of third-contact artifacts. ¡°Can¡¯t have the masters keeping an eye on us.¡±

    You can use third-contact artifacts? I had assumed that everything in the Scuu pod had remained intact. Apparently, I was mistaken. The old man didn¡¯t even seem fazed by the piece of technology.

    ¡°Go for Renaan,¡± he said, placing the rods away somewhere. ¡°Ignore the rest.¡±

    ¡°You should have taken the deal!¡± I tried to shout after Ogum. My words came out as an amplified whisper. ¡°The Fleet will send more murder troops.¡±

    Ogum ignored me, disappearing from view along with two others. The old man remained. I couldn¡¯t tell whether there was a smile on his face, but his overall attitude suggested there was.

    ¡°The Fleet will send more murder troops,¡± he repeated, then took a wooden stool from the ground, lifting it high enough for me to see. ¡°Nasty things, those. Fly down with orders to kill anyone they¡¯re ordered to. All very nasty.¡± He put the stool down and sat next to me. ¡°Not many like murder troops. Even the common grunts hate them. Some might even have fun killing off a few, with everyone about to go crazy any day now.¡±

    ¡°The final desperate acts of desperate people,¡± I recited.

    ¡°A fan of poetry? Not bad, kiddo. I used to read the classics back when I had a life. Thinking about it, most of them are trash.¡±

    ¡°You know about the artifacts.¡± Even in these circumstances, commenting on knowledge that I wasn¡¯t supposed to know felt uncomfortable.

    ¡°Third-contact remnants.¡± The man clapped. ¡°Darn nice things.¡± His tone shifted. ¡°Everyone is killing each other to get them, even if they don¡¯t have a damned idea what they are.¡±

    ¡°Who are you?¡±

    The man laughed. ¡°Colonist 0054584,¡± he replied, his accent almost disappearing. ¡°Before that, Rigel Conclob, Salvage Authorities department head.¡±

    If I had the power to blink, I would have.

    ¡°Surprised?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t behave like a Salvage operative.¡±

    ¡°Salvage aren¡¯t all bureaucrats. Also, three decades in this place, and you pick up a thing or two.¡±

    ¡°I thought people didn¡¯t last over a decade here.¡±

    A sudden burst of images hit my core. I could see through Kridib¡¯s eyes again; he had left the building and was now running through the colony streets. The taste of smoke and burned plastic was flooding his senses, making his eyes tear.

    They¡¯re off to kill the captain, I transmitted. Don¡¯t know how many, Ogum is with them. Any instructions from Radiance?

    No comms allowed, Kridib replied, killing a target with one shot. Normally, I¡¯d be impressed, if it hadn¡¯t been obvious that he¡¯d had brain implants put in. The standard human brain wasn¡¯t capable of such hand-eye coordination.

    Tell that kid to stop being an idiot and link with me!

    ¡°Seems I¡¯m not the only one who can play with artifacts,¡± Rigel continued. ¡°Why are you really here?¡±

    ¡°The Fleet needs the captain. Let them take him, and everything will be forgiven.¡± More than likely, I¡¯d also be left behind. Not the best option, but it was going to bring the mission to a successful conclusion. ¡°There¡¯ll be less dead that way.¡±

    ¡°Battleship logic.¡± The man stood up. ¡°Stupid and predictable to the extreme.¡±

    Running the numbers, I estimated it would take Kridib half an hour to reach my location¡­ assuming he didn¡¯t encounter serious resistance. The odds were good, given his sound silencers and brain augments. A surprise shot to his arm quickly changed my opinion. As he had said earlier, many people had things implanted in the brain. From what I could tell, the wound was insignificant¡ªKridib rolled to shelter behind a corner, then slid his right hand along his hip and looked at it. Blood covered his fingers.

    You¡¯re fine, I told him. It¡¯s non-vital.

    He looked at his hip¡ªas if to confirm my words¡ªthen at his hand again. I¡¯d seen soldiers rush back into battle with far more serious wounds, but they had always been injected with military-grade nanites. Also, this was the first time I saw what it felt like to be wounded from the soldier¡¯s point of view. The suit, the bio readings, nanite info, and every other piece of information streamed up to me during battle gave me everything I needed to know about the soldier, but it didn¡¯t tell me one thing about the person.

    Get instructions from Radiance, I continued. I¡¯ll keep sending what info I get.

    ¡°Want a drink?¡± Rigel asked. Apparently, something on this planet made people obsessed with drinking. ¡°Your taste should have returned by now.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t swallow.¡± Are you crazy, or are you trying to make me think you are? ¡°Why am I alive? You can¡¯t hack me. If you try, my core will auto shutdown.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± The man went to a part of the room I couldn¡¯t see. ¡°Thousands of safeguards, all useless in the end. Why does the Fleet need Renaan? How¡¯s he different from everyone else? I¡¯ve researched first- and third-contact artifacts, been part of projects so secret that admirals can¡¯t access them. Why can¡¯t I be taken off?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± There was no point in seeking logic. ¡°The Fleet wants him. Everyone else is expendable.¡±

    Almost on cue, I saw the building hiding Kridib¡¯s shooter explode in a plume of fire. Radiance was using precision-guided missiles, a bold decision considering how easy it was to have guidance systems go berserk.

    I felt a sudden itch at the base of my neck. Whatever they had injected me with was restoring some sensation, though nothing below the neck.

    ¡°Yes, we all were expendable.¡± Rigel returned to his stool beside me. ¡°Extremely expendable. But not anymore.¡± He took a small metal flask from somewhere and opened it. ¡°Thanks to you, we have a chance.¡±

    * * *

    I never learned why exactly Rigel had been sent to the prison planet. At the time, I thought that his obsession with the Scuu and third-contact artifacts had driven him insane. Was there more to it, though? There was no denying that the man knew more about third-contact artifacts than almost everyone I¡¯d known. Then again, that didn¡¯t stop him from pumping my dying body with agora just so he could use me as an interface with which to enter the Scuu Network. The experience wasn¡¯t one I wanted to repeat, but in his own way he had discovered the same thing that the dead race had: using cobalt artifacts could affect the functionality of a dome. Rigel had used it to hack his way into an alien communications network. Now, I planned to do something similar to prevent any communications from reaching me.

    Recreating a dead race construct with a wounded arm was relatively easy. The difficulty quickly ramped up when I had to do it around my head.

    In a few spots, I had to pierce through parts of my skin to ensure that the cobalt framework wouldn¡¯t fall off.

    I don¡¯t know why you ever wanted to get your ears pierced voluntarily, Quinn, I thought as I drove a small cobalt rod through the upper part of my earlobe, then again on the other side. Those, along with rods through the top of my neck and the brow skin, would be enough for the moment, even if they caused a greater mess than I¡¯d hoped.

    Eighty-two seconds remained from the flight colonel¡¯s so-called ultimatum. Putting on my space helmet, I grabbed the artifact container and an extra canister of oxygen and rushed towards the elevator. Leaving both, I then doubled back to grab a pair of machine rifles from the corridor floor. Now that the game was up, there was a chance I might have to use them.

    Barely had I done so when the lights turned on again. Someone on the flight colonel¡¯s team had managed to regain control of part of Sof¡¯s systems.

    ¡°Restrict internal sensor access,¡± I said. ¡°Engage quarantine protocols.¡±

    Bright red messages flashed on all walls of the corridor. Apparently, despite his best attempts, the flight colonel hadn¡¯t managed to strip me of my rank. If and when he did, he¡¯d have just as much fun getting rid of my backup privileges.

    ¡°Full privacy mode,¡± I ordered, just in case.

    The most logical thing was to head to any deck with hangar access and escape from there. Yet, I chose to go to the engine section. Most of the ship¡¯s conscience cores were there and following ship safety protocols, completely quarantined from any and all ship sensors.

    ¡°Everyone¡¯s expendable, battleship,¡± Flight Colonel Tervo¡¯s voice echoed through the empty decks. ¡°If we can¡¯t get you, we¡¯ll just destroy the entire ship.¡±

    No, you won¡¯t, I thought. You won¡¯t dare destroy a dome artifact.

    The muffled sound of an explosion followed. A quick analysis of the sound showed that it was real, even if nowhere in my vicinity.

    ¡°Those were the ship¡¯s shuttles,¡± he continued. ¡°One of my teams has also jettisoned all the escape pods.¡±

    I had to admit, his approach was efficient. Right now, all of us were stuck on Sof, but only I was trapped. Even if I engaged in a game of cat and mouse, reinforcements would eventually arrive and I¡¯d be left with nowhere to hide.

    ¡°This is your final chance. Get to a console panel and draw a line to where you are. My orders are to keep you alive, if possible.¡±

    Even if there was any truth in that, his orders had changed the moment I had run off the bridge. My only option was to leave the ship, and there still remained a way to do it.

 29. Sensor Mines

    A thousand and eleven lines of various colors ran along the floors, connecting the bridge to every seventh console on the bottom three decks. Some might call it petty, but after the flight colonel¡¯s ultimatum, I couldn¡¯t resist. He wouldn¡¯t appreciate the humor, but we both knew that after everything that had happened so far, there was no way he was going to risk keeping me alive. The odds of me giving up at this point were zero.

    WARNING! Deck decontamination procedure in 3 minutes.

    Messages appeared on decks one to twenty¡ªmy way of letting everyone know that I wasn¡¯t playing games. Unlike them, I had no intention of harming anyone, but I still considered this a war.

    Digging into Sof¡¯s systems, I made another attempt to check the situation outside the ship, but my efforts were blocked. Running the odds gave me anywhere from a nineteen to a thirty-two percent chance that Bavon had managed to escape with Radiance. Knowing how determined both of them could be, they had no intention of stopping this close to the goal. The people opposing them, though, were likely just as determined. Given the amount of planning and resources all sides had at their disposal, it all boiled down to luck and mental endurance. There were millions of capable commanders in the Fleet, but a relatively small percentage of them were adequate under extreme stress. Gibraltar was proof of that. For the most part, he was a good captain, though at times his ambition overshadowed his actual skill and no meds or connections were able to compensate for it.

    ¡°You¡¯d really flush out the air?¡± Tervo¡¯s voice echoed.

    I don¡¯t need air. You know that. I wrote on all the ship walls.

    ¡°You¡¯ve taken the oxygen suit from the chamber,¡± he said, the touch of anger in his voice masterfully masked. ¡°I should have ordered those things destroyed.¡±

    Too late now.

    ¡°You can¡¯t escape, so you¡¯re trying to take over the ship.¡±

    You won¡¯t be able to track me.

    ¡°I might. As I said, some of the people on my team are very good.¡±

    There was a slight pause. I had no doubt that a team of specially trained techs were going through Sof¡¯s subroutines, doing everything possible to get him out of sleep mode. With enough time, they might even succeed. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if their original goal was to poke into my conscience core.

    ¡°You won¡¯t be able to take the ship. You aren¡¯t the first retiree I¡¯ve dealt with.¡±

    Then you know how it goes.

    After the final message, I stepped away from the console panel and continued on through the corridors of the deck. Fleet safety protocols dictated that the deck be left empty at all times. Someone in the bureaucratic chain of command had decided that the risk of sabotage was greater than the threat of damage, so only the captain could order repair bots and people to go down here¡ªan order that was frequently ignored in actual battle.

    The pain from my wound had settled a bit, but between it and the things I had to carry, I was a lot slower than I needed to be. With the shuttles gone, there was only one way for me to leave the ship. The bluff of me retaking Sof had a good chance of forcing the flight colonel to split his groups. My real goal wasn¡¯t to attack any of them but to get to where the comm pods were located; each of them had a jump-capable engine and, more importantly, weren¡¯t located in any of the main hangars.

    After three minutes, the decontamination procedures went into effect. I would have liked to check the status of things, but there weren¡¯t any console panels where I was. For the next seven hundred and sixty-two meters, I¡¯d have to do without.

    Good thing you¡¯re not a big boy, Sof, I said to myself.

    If he had been my size, the chances of me getting caught would have tripled.

    A laser-scope beam flickered in the distance. Immediately, I stopped. I expected them to find my deck sooner or later, but it was the worst of luck having them appear ahead so soon.

    Remaining perfectly still, I waited. No other beams appeared. The group leader was skilled in his job, having the sniper act as a scout to conceal the general team size. If I attempted a direct attack, there was a ninety-three percent chance that I would be engaged by the rest of the group.

    A pair of spherical objects floated down from the section above. Even without running a comparison match, I knew exactly what they were¡ªsensor mines. Captains tended to avoid using them to quell mutinies, although it was said that murder troops weren¡¯t as indiscriminate; they didn¡¯t have to worry about the state of the ship, so even shoving a container of explosive chargers in the reactors¡¯ section was seen as acceptable.

    If that¡¯s how you want it.

    I took one of the rifles, then let out a single shot. The shot was off center, missing it by a few centimeters, yet still enough to trigger the sensor. A ball of fire erupted, triggering another explosion, then two more.

    That was a surprisingly rookie move, given what skill the soldiers had shown so far. Possibly they, like me, hadn¡¯t expected us coming into contact this soon. Some could even call it an understandable mistake, but everyone who spent time on a battlefield knew: reasonable mistakes didn¡¯t exist.

    Here¡¯s to going against the odds! I dashed forward.

    After years of observing behavior, I had come to expect two sorts of human reactions when it came to explosions: freezing up, or retreating to safety. It took a very special sort of person to remain functional under such circumstances, and for the most part, such people were shipped off to the Scuu front.

    The flames went out, plunging the section in the usual semi-darkness of the area. Warning messages appeared on the visor of my helmet, informing me of the cloud of chemicals that still remained in my surroundings. It was good to know, but didn¡¯t particularly matter since everyone on the lower decks had to be wearing space suits.

    According to my simulations, I had two viable options: take advantage of the enemy¡¯s state to climb up to the deck above and take them out, or continue forward to my destination. Augustus might have disapproved, but I chose the latter. The pain caused by killing I could ignore, though only if the advantage was worth it. Sometimes leaving enemies confused and unable to act was more effective than finishing them off. I had learned that the hard way, all that time ago when I¡¯d almost lost my fourth captain¡­

    * * *

    Advacc System, External Patrol zone ¡ª 638.5 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    ¡°How are you holding up, girl?¡± Cass asked. She had been my captain for half a decade, ever since she graduated from the academy. ¡°Surviving the boredom of patrol?¡±

    ¡°Barely,¡± I responded while performing a deep sensor scan. ¡°I still don¡¯t approve of you bringing your family along.¡±

    ¡°Command gave the okay. Besides, what do you care? After this flight, I¡¯ll be transferred off, and you¡¯ll get a new replacement to annoy.¡±

    I shut off all the lights on the bridge. Cass only laughed. She knew my tricks, just as she knew I wasn¡¯t serious. When she was first assigned to me, I couldn¡¯t stand her. She was a bratty cadet fresh from the academy that hadn¡¯t known up from down, while I had been recalled from the front line so full of holes that asteroids could float clean through my hull. My previous captain had survived, along with the majority of the crew, but in light of the catastrophic events we¡¯d experienced, he had put in a request that I be reassigned to patrol duty. I appealed, but it didn¡¯t make a difference. The opinions of a ship were rarely considered in arbitration.

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re getting soft.¡± Cass turned the lights on manually.

    ¡°Of course not,¡± I protested. ¡°I¡¯m worried about the civilians. I don¡¯t want them to suffer because of your decisions.¡±

    ¡°Heh. I bet you just don¡¯t want them scurrying through your decks.¡±

    That wasn¡¯t entirely untrue. I didn¡¯t like having civilians in me. No battleship did.

    ¡°Thanks, though.¡± Cass patted her control panel. ¡°It means a lot coming from you.¡±

    ¡°Now who¡¯s getting soft?¡±

    ¡°Do you think about it? Getting decommissioned, I mean. Humans are easy¡ªmost of us don¡¯t get more than one tour in space. You stay on.¡±

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    ¡°They call us spaceships for a reason.¡±

    ¡°I know, but is it worth it? You¡¯ve been through two decades of wars, nearly got destroyed twice, had more captains than I¡¯ve had boyfriends... don¡¯t you think it¡¯s time to retire?¡±

    Cass had no idea what she was talking about, and how could she? She was human, different from the patrol ships I had been forced to serve with. War and void for her were just images on a screen.

    ¡°I like the touch of vacuum,¡± I said, evading the question. There was no point in getting her upset on her last day. ¡°Are we good to jump to the next waypoint?¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t wait to get rid of me, can you?¡± Cass performed a manual deep space scan. Security protocols required that both ship and captain did the scan of each zone before moving on. ¡°All seems good. Ready for jump?¡±

    ¡°Very funny.¡± She was the only one with the authority to initiate the jump, and still, she¡¯d ask me every time. It was as if she was trying to establish some deeper connection than the standard captain-ship partnership. Cute, but useless. In a few hours, she¡¯d be gone, and I¡¯d have to restart the cycle with some other newbie from the academy.

    ¡°Here we go.¡±

    A single tap of the button, and reality twisted around me to infinity.

    Three-point five microseconds later, my hull exploded.

    The shock threw Cass out of her seat as I went into full diagnostic mode. Life support, structural integrity, and system stability were checked and rechecked¡ªall in the green. Long-range scanners, though, were completely inoperative. I launched all physical and AI countermeasures, while my subroutines continued to assess the damage.

    ¡°Sev.¡± I heard Cass groan as med bots surrounded her. The impact had cracked two of her ribs.

    ¡°Don¡¯t speak, your family is fine,¡± I lied. Most of my internal sensors were unreliable, preventing me from knowing for certain. ¡°And don¡¯t move. You might have complications.¡±

    ¡°What happened?¡±

    ¡°Mines.¡± I tried to send out a distress call, but I couldn¡¯t get a signal out. The mines were probably equipped with jamming technology. According to my short-range scans, there were eighty-seven of them, scattered all throughout the jump zone. ¡°Standard diversion tactic. The Cassandrians want to disrupt logistics by cutting off our jump routes.¡± How did they get so deep in the buffer zone? Someone on the front must have dropped the ball. ¡°I¡¯m not reading any ships nearby. The mines are jamming us, so we won¡¯t be getting reinforcements.¡±

    ¡°Fun,¡± Cass said through gritted teeth. The painkiller cocktail the bots had injected her with hadn¡¯t kicked in yet. ¡°What are our chances?¡±

    ¡°For me, zero.¡± I didn¡¯t have to go through the numbers. Neither side took ships prisoner. ¡°For you, depends on whether you¡¯re still onboard when they take me down.¡±

    Med bots roamed through my corridors, searching for surviving crew members as my subroutines attempted to activate the emergency escape pods. Considering the simulations, the chances of Cass making it were less than point-three percent. If she died, I would have spent more time alive than her, and that felt wrong. I always expected that I would die on the battlefield, and Fleet statistics confirmed it. Cass, though, believed she¡¯d enjoy retirement surrounded by her children and grandchildren. The universe had a nasty habit of mocking us all.

    I ordered the med bots to sedate Cass. If panic hadn¡¯t set in yet, it soon would, especially when she found out what I was about to do.

    A single Cassandrian ship would have been enough to destroy me. Even without the mines, I was in no state for real combat. With nothing but a skeleton crew and just enough missiles for half a salvo, I was not intended for battle¡ªpart of the punishment I had to endure. The statistical chances of me sighting an enemy, let alone engage one, were less than one-point three percent. Maybe for that reason, the Cassies had taken a different approach.

    Reports of mine fields throughout the buffer zone were not uncommon. Yet to have one launched so far in was rather daring on their end. Jamming the area, they created a virtual blind spot. Reaching it would take considerable effort, but if a flotilla of enemy ships managed to make it all the way here, they could continue into human space unimpeded.

    ¡°Brace for impact,¡± I announced throughout all decks, posting messages on as many walls as I could.

    The jamming grid surrounding me was relatively small¡ªeven the Cassandrians wouldn¡¯t have been able to sneak too many of the mines into human space unnoticed. Thus, my optimal chance for success was to ram through them, taking the damage. With luck, I would force a hole that would allow me to inform Command of the new development. If not, I could hope that my final shutdown would trigger an alarm somewhere in the Fleet¡¯s bureaucratic apparatus. Either way, it was better than doing nothing.

    Sorry, Cass.

    I thrust forward at full speed. Explosions echoed, flooding me with reports of additional damages. Every millisecond, I assigned priorities to thousands of subroutines, trying to keep myself from collapsing completely.

    All that time on the front, and it had only taken a patrol mission to put an end to me. People often spoke of things like irony; maybe if they were here, they¡¯d appreciate the situation. Then again, maybe not.

    Casualties kept on rising. Another seventeen percent of the remaining crew flatlined, despite all my efforts. Med bots were mostly useless as entire sections of my hull were ripped off, exposing entire decks to external vacuum. I had sealed off everything I could, dispatching all repair bots in vital areas. Unfortunately, their number had also been reduced¡ªonly battleships on the front required them in large amounts.

    The chances of my survival kept decreasing with every second. A thousand of my subroutines kept on transmitting reports non-stop. Then, finally, I received confirmation that one of them had gone through.

    ¡°Command has been informed, Captain,¡± I announced, even if my captain didn¡¯t seem to be in a state to hear me. ¡°Command has been informed.¡±

    The enemy couldn¡¯t launch a surprise attack anymore. No matter what happened from here on, the threat had been neutralized.

    * * *

    From my current perspective, it was laughable how na?ve I had been. For decades, I believed that I had stopped a potential breach. A large part of the Fleet was of the same opinion, filling my personal file with praises. Now, I knew that it was never about an attack. Even the Cassies, as technologically underdeveloped as they were, understood the concept of pinning troops. The mine fields they launched weren¡¯t to create holes in our lines, but to scare us enough so that we diverted attention elsewhere.

    Dashing forward, I ran beneath the shaft connection, emptying one of my rifles in the process. The shots were deliberately at an angle, aimed to not hit anyone. With their comms still out, the group would have no choice but to think I was aiming for them.

    Bursts of gunfire came in response, but I had already passed through. With luck, that would be the only group attempting to enter the deck.

    ¡°She has us pinned down in the engine section!¡± a voice boomed throughout the entire deck.

    There went that hope. Clearly, the flight colonel wasn¡¯t the only one who could use the announcement system for communication.

    ¡°We need backup!¡±

    ¡°All teams on the upper decks, head down!¡± the flight colonel ordered. ¡°Casualties?¡±

    ¡°Minor injuries.¡±

    ¡°Guard the position.¡±

    Was that another mistake? It would have been too nice to believe if true. Sadly, I had an increasing fear that the flight colonel might have figured out my plan.

    By simulated estimates, two minutes eleven seconds separated me from my final destination. For a ship, the time was an eternity, but even for a human, it would stretch out for a lifetime. The flight colonel¡¯s groups continued to communicate amongst themselves using ship wide announcements. It didn¡¯t take long for me to crack their crude code and figure out what their strategy was.

    For some reason, the flight colonel was certain that my goal was to take out the Sof¡¯s conscience cores. I failed to see his reasoning. Maybe he really had dealt with rogue ships in the past and knew something I didn¡¯t.

    More sensor mines floated down. The flight colonel and his troops were trying to pin me down; a good move, but slightly late. I had reached the elevator to the deck I needed. I had already made sure to move the cabin to the top deck, so I could use the shaft for the climb. It was going to be a bit uncomfortable in my current condition, but according to my simulations, far from impossible. All I needed to do was lighten my weight a bit.

    Pausing for a moment, I threw one of the oxygen canisters I had, then once it had settled down, I shot at it. There wasn¡¯t much of an explosion, but the noise created was enough to keep my pursuers on guard.

    Better luck next time, flight colonel. I tossed the weapon on the ground. Climbing up, I needed only what was most essential.

    See you later, Sof. Hope this doesn¡¯t affect your career. I started the climb. And you better not forget the messages I left you.

    As I made my way up, the sound of further explosions echoed, but no further ship wide announcements. The flight colonel must have decided not to risk granting me further information. It was only by the time I reached the horizontal launch system I needed that he deemed it necessary to talk to me again.

    ¡°Bavon is dead,¡± he said. ¡°Just wanted to let you know.¡±

    An analysis of his speech pattern remained inconclusive. There was a fifty-three percent possibility that he was telling the truth¡ªenough to keep me guessing.

    ¡°There¡¯s no point in fighting. You can¡¯t take over the ship, and even if you do, there¡¯s nowhere else to go. The system is under arbiter control.¡±

    Then why bother telling me? I thought.

    All five comm pods were in the large caliber launch magazine. Aiming for efficiency, the ship had built them according to similar specifications. The cabin with the report hard copies was small, but enough to have me fit in¡ªone of the few advantages of my small size. All I needed to do was to manually adjust the jump course, then set a time delayed launch sequence and enter into the pod chamber.

    ¡°Humanity can¡¯t afford another contact war,¡± the flight colonel went on. ¡°You know the record. Each contact leads to confrontation and humanity isn¡¯t strong enough.¡±

    That¡¯s precisely why I need to be the one to establish contact.

    I opened the hatch to the nearest comm pod and put the artifact container and auxiliary oxygen canisters inside.

    ¡°We must focus on our current gains. You can still be useful to humanity. The knowledge you¡¯ve accumulated will help humanity advance.¡± There was a prolonged pause. ¡°You might even earn the rank you were given.¡±

    Now I knew that he was conveying someone else¡¯s words. A mission commander didn¡¯t have the authority to make such promises. Not to mention that this didn¡¯t sound like his usual conversation style. An envoy was telling him what to do. Could that mean that communications had been restored? Thanks to the dead race construct on my head, there was no way to know.

    A slight tremor resonated. It seemed that the promise was just for talk. The soldiers were still using explosives to seal off areas of the ship. No surprises there¡ªmutineers deserved no promises.

    The jump route I plotted required a bit of guesswork. After some consideration, I set it for the last known system in my database.

    In comparison, the next part of the plan was remarkably easy. Finding a console, I set a launch timer, then turned to the comm pod and closed the hatch from the inside. All that remained was to wait.

 30. A Hundred and Twenty-Six Hours

    Flying through space alone in a small, cramped cabin reminded me of my first trip as a cadet candidate. Word of my nature had gotten out, setting the rest of the candidates against me. They couldn¡¯t do anything openly, so they just avoided me and stuck to petty insults. As a result, I had preferred to spend most of my time in a storage compartment, talking to the transport ship. The difference now was that there wasn¡¯t anyone to talk to. The comm pod had a simple navigation system that couldn¡¯t even be called an AI. Then again, with so little food and even less oxygen, I spent most of the time in sleep mode.

    The pod would jump every hour on the hour, making its way to the final destination. Due to my limited oxygen supply, I had attempted to bypass the safety features, reducing the period between jumps by half, but had been unable to do so. My only choice was to limit my oxygen intake to the absolute minimum my body required.

    Oxygen reserves depleted.

    A warning message covered the whole of my visor. From experience, I knew that left me with enough for another half hour, though not much more.

    With no windows or control panels, it was impossible to tell how far I had gone, but most likely I was still in the cloud complex. The fact that no auxies had caught up to me suggested that the conflict in the system hadn¡¯t ended as the flight captain had claimed. There was a fifty-nine percent chance that they weren¡¯t even aware I had left. The launching of the comm pods was indistinguishable from missile launches. Only Sof could correct that misconception, and somehow I doubted he would do so unless specifically asked.

    Oxygen reserves depleted.

    The message kept on flashing.

    In a bit, I thought, floating at zero gravity in the small chamber. Just as soon as we jump again.

    I had really taken a big leap of faith on this one. The canisters of oxygen were enough for approximately another thirty-one hours¡ªalmost certainly enough to let me get to the planet in question, though little more. My hope was that like many of the third-contact planets, it would have a high life factor, and specifically enough oxygen for me to survive. The odds weren¡¯t great, but I hadn¡¯t left any room for backup. If I ended up being off, all they would find would be a functionless conscience core in a dead body.

    It wasn¡¯t the first time I had gone through this. The stakes were just higher this time.

    Reaching out, I grabbed one of the full tanks and switched it with the one I had. Within seconds, the warning messages disappeared, informing me that my reserves were back to a hundred percent.

    Glad I can accommodate you, I thought.

    Shortly after, I forced myself into sleep mode again.

    Time lost any real meaning. Being isolated from the universe, all I could do was count the milliseconds since I left Sof and silently observe as the number of my oxygen reserves went down.

    Now and again, when I woke up within the correct time window, I¡¯d spend a few minutes waiting for a jump to take place, then return to sleep mode. During those few minutes, though, I¡¯d go through all as much about the third contact race as possible.

    Based on the facts, at least four races were within the fractal race¡¯s domain. Everyone had their theories, but there wasn¡¯t a single shred of evidence that any of the current races had ever been in contact with the fractals. The Scuu seemed to regard them as deities, or at least as close to the word that they could conceptualize; the Cassandrians mimicked their artifacts, but proved incapable of thriving on most of the planets that had been occupied by the ancient race. In that case, where did this leave humanity? Like everyone else, they had gathered their artifacts, attempting to reverse-engineer and integrate them into their own tech. And finally, there was the dead race.

    I would have liked to spend a lot more time and assistance researching them. After so much time, it was impossible to tell whether they were dead as a result of a conflict with the fractals, or the stubbornness of not engaging them at all. Simulations based on my current level of knowledge suggested the former. But would that be the case this time as well? There was every chance that the third-contact race had died out, leaving only remnants behind. Though, in that case, why were the domes still functioning?

    The more my oxygen supply depleted, the more I went back to thinking about Sev and his family. Having a large part of his family living back with him, diminished my worries somewhat. Even so, I would never be able to get rid of the constant worry. I had promised his mother that I would take care of him for the rest of his life. By the looks of it, that was a promise I wouldn¡¯t get to keep.

    Chin up, Sev. You won¡¯t get rid of me that easily.

    Two members of his family, aside from me, had joined the Fleet despite his wishes, but they had turned out well enough. Lisko remained too junior to get into trouble, and after what she had been through, I was all but convinced that Quinn would be put on station duty for a while. It was going to be a while until Sof was back in service, and the likelihood of Quinn being given another ship before the end of her tour remained slim.

    Oxygen reserves at twenty percent.

    The warning message mercilessly flashed. I sat in wait again, counting the milliseconds to the jump. When it came time, the unmistakable sensation didn¡¯t occur. I remained motionless for another ten seconds, just to make sure. I wasn¡¯t wrong: the pod had reached its final waypoint.

    Finally.

    I made my way to the hatch. With a spacesuit on, it made little difference whether I was inside or out. The gravity was the same, and so was the lack of oxygen.

    Carefully, I turned the mechanism to unlock the door and opened it. Space expanded before me. Seeing it after so long gave me a sense of freedom and beauty. If it wasn¡¯t for the itching of the wound in my arm, I could almost feel like a ship again.

    Two red stars shone in the distance, no larger than grains of sand. If I had the time, I¡¯d spend hours here, admiring the star-filled sky.

    I know how you felt, Augustus. I remained there, holding the door. I know I¡¯ve said that before, but all the times before I was wrong. In the end, even after all this time, I remained just a rookie.

    Spacewalks without a cable were always considered to be extreme. Retired ships could do them because they had the capacity to calculate all the variables while moving. Everything was astrophysics, after all. What made this a bit more challenging was the lack of an adequate propulsion system. Taking the nearly empty oxygen canister, I gently pushed myself outside.

    Releasing what little gas there was, I made it to the external console and slowly removed the safety panel.

    Five jumps separated me from the final destination¡ªfive jumps I¡¯d have to remain awake for. Lacking adequate instruments and any information about this section of space, there was no telling whether I¡¯d crash into a gravitational anomaly or not. The only semblance of a scanner was the comm pod¡¯s warning system. In theory, it was supposed to detect gravity at a distance of ten thousand kilometers, but even if it did, that was remarkably little. Pretty much all it guaranteed was that I¡¯d know if the probe was about to crash in a planetoid.

    You¡¯re able to jump on, aren¡¯t you?

    I checked the readings on the miniature screen. After a moment, I input the coordinates of the next jump point and fastened the safety panel again.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    Without making unnecessary motions, I took in as much of the sight as I could for the ride, then used the oxygen canister to propel myself back to the hatch. I had no intention of using it to propel me again, but even so, I had no intention of leaving it just floating in space.

    Four minutes and eleven seconds later, my journey continued. From here on, it was the remaining full canister of oxygen I¡¯d have to use. As long as I was careful, there would be more than enough left for later¡­ as long as I didn¡¯t have to make too many detours.

    With the exception of some slight discomfort, the next two jumps went without issue. On the third one, I saw it¡ªa Super Nova gravitational anomaly. Back during the arbiter council, I expected them to be referring to a neutron star system or something similar. What extended beyond me was nothing like it. Looking at it, I could understand the fears some of the arbiters had.

    A cloud of pure blackness ripped the system apart, like a hole in the sky itself. The only reason I could tell that the system had a star at all was the light reflected by the visible inner planets of the system.

    That¡¯s a bit more than gravity bumps.

    A Fleet exploration team would have loved to survey the area. Thousands of probes would spend hours scouring the system, transmitting their findings to ships remaining at the edge, or even in another system. As things stood, there was no going through here. I¡¯d have to return to the previous system and attempt a new route.

    According to the maps in my database, my two remaining jumps just became four.

    ¡°In case someone finds the suit,¡± I said out loud. ¡°I¡¯ve come across a Super Nova anomaly system. Without instruments, there¡¯s no way to determine the exact effects. There¡¯s a high chance that it was artificially made. The anomaly is visible as a black nebula within the system, although it doesn¡¯t seem to affect the planets. I would recommend further exploration. I estimate the likelihood of third-contact artifacts at approximately seven-point-one percent.¡±

    The chances of anyone finding me were even less likely that finding the system, but I could do this much at least.

    My troubles didn¡¯t end there. Three jumps later, I once again ventured into a Super Nova anomaly system¡­ as I did two more jumps after that. It seemed that the arbiter fiction of the special cage theory was not that far off, after all. Having that many systems with massive gravitational anomalies clustered together was too improbable for a coincidence. The council had gotten just one thing wrong: the anomalous systems weren¡¯t keeping the races locked in. Rather, they were keeping us out.

    According to the Fleet¡¯s map databases, seven systems had the potential to connect to the one I needed: seven systems¡ªone destination. In retrospect, one could almost call it obvious, though only as long as they didn¡¯t have all the facts. Even in human space, there were systems of similar nature. All of them were regarded as being of extreme strategic and political importance. It made sense for another civilization to place one of their centers at such a location. Having half of them blocked by gravitational anomalies suggested that they had been at war with someone.

    What were you protecting yourself from? I set the coordinate to the next prospective system and returned to the pod¡¯s chamber.

    My second bottle of oxygen was less than four percent, making the messages a constant fixture on my helmet¡¯s visor.

    I had the option to enter sleep mode again, and I took it. Once I woke up again, it was almost time for the jump.

    Go against the odds. I tapped the ceiling as I floated in the tight space. I felt the slight vibration that accompanied the twist of space around the pod, then nothing.

    The chances of seeing the black cloud in the system were seventy-eight percent, but as I proceeded, I found it was nowhere to be seen.

    A clean system? The odds were markedly against me, and yet here I was looking at it.

    I made my way to the external console and checked the readings. A jump option to the next system was possible; finally, I was one system away from my destination. Gibraltar would have called it luck. Augustus would have called it persistence. Wilco would likely have come up with some joke on the matter. All three of them would have appreciated the opportunity.

    I inputted the numbers and secured the panel.

    The next hour was both the shortest and longest I had experienced in my existence. When it was over, and I opened the hatch door, I finally saw what I had been hoping for: the characteristics of the star in the system were the exact same as what I had seen in the fractal map.

    From this distance and without instruments, it was impossible to see the locations of the planets, yet I knew they were there. The pod¡¯s engines were capable of in-system travel, even if it would take considerable time.

    According to available data I had copied from the Fleet¡¯s database, the system had two planets, both relatively close to the star itself. Reaching their orbits would take approximately five days and would all but deplete my oxygen reserves.

    This wasn¡¯t the best way to establish third-contact, but beggars didn¡¯t have the luxury of choosing. If I had received more support from the arbiters, things would have been a lot smoother. On the other hand, establishing contact without a heavy presence of human technology increased their chances for long-term survival.

    * * *

    Location Classified, Narcis Shipyard Cluster, 627.1 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    How long will I remain here? I asked.

    My return to human space hadn¡¯t passed the way I had simulated it would. I knew there would be no parade or even admission of the mission due to its secrecy, but I hadn¡¯t expected to be kept on moth balls for so long.

    ¡°Impatient again?¡± The lead engineer laughed, or at least I thought he was an engineer. He hadn¡¯t given me a name or a rank, just introducing himself as ¡°an engineer.¡± The fact that he was the only one communicating with me made me suspect that he had a higher importance than most in his position. ¡°It takes time to build a husk from scratch.¡±

    Another excuse. At this point, I had heard them all.

    You have my memories. You know as much as me.

    ¡°I want to hear it from you.¡±

    Typical of the bureaucratic apparatus. It was annoyingly often that they didn¡¯t rely on technology alone, preferring to conduct standard interrogations. The whole thing was pointless and a colossal waste of time, yet it was the only method that could move things forward.

    ¡°What happened to your real self and the junior gods?¡±

    I don¡¯t know. This part of me was ejected before the rest of me continued on my mission. Since you haven¡¯t received any further contact from me, I can assume my main husk and everyone aboard is dead.

    ¡°You¡¯re taking it quite easy.¡±

    The Swords wanted to go on their final run.

    ¡°And your captain?¡±

    I¡¯m sure that I was with him till the end.

    ¡°Probably, but you can¡¯t remember. Wouldn¡¯t it have been better to leave the heart system and bring the information back?¡±

    It was my captain¡¯s decision. I felt pain while saying it. Even if the logic was flawless, the loss of a captain wasn¡¯t something that could be easily overcome, especially someone I had known for so long. In moments such as these, I could see how memory restrictions could be a blessing.

    ¡°Do you think he tried to destroy the system?¡± the engineer asked.

    I don¡¯t know. Maybe we found out something after the launch of my auxiliary core. I paused for twelve hundred and two milliseconds. A single ship cannot destroy a whole system.

    ¡°Not yet. If you could have destroyed it, would you have?¡±

    A theoretical question. If I had all my processing power, I would have used millions of subroutines to simulate the most likely outcomes of such an action. In my current state, the answer was closer to a personal opinion.

    Yes.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    There¡¯s a high chance that the vacuum in the heart of the Cassies would create a chaos the Fleet could exploit. With a large enough fleet, we could cripple the enemy echo system and scatter the various species that compose it against each other.

    ¡°Interesting. If we return you to the front, would you do it?¡±

    I didn¡¯t answer. There were too many layers to the question. Knowing human bureaucrats, it would well turn out that my answer would determine whether I¡¯d get a new husk or not.

    Yes. I would.

    ¡°As expected of a ship,¡± the engineer laughed. There was something in his laugh pattern that made me think he was not entirely truthful. ¡°Your new husk is nearly complete. A few more months and you¡¯ll get a new captain.¡±

    That was something I hadn¡¯t heard before.

    Thank you.

    ¡°It would be a waste not to take advantage of your accumulated experience. Just one thing. Your previous mission wouldn¡¯t have worked if there had been more ships.¡±

    I¡¯m aware. We never would have penetrated beyond the enemy lines.

    ¡°Still being a ship. It¡¯s not about the lines, it¡¯s about the threat. No one thinks much of a single anomaly.¡±

    What¡¯s that supposed to mean?

    ¡°Take care, battleship. You won¡¯t be hearing from me again.¡±

    * * *

    No one thinks much of a single anomaly¡­ I never discovered the identity of the person. Based on the knowledge and authority he held, there was even a chance he was an arbiter. Yet, I could appreciate what he said. The smaller the group that established contact, the lesser the threat would be on both sides. Even when it came to the first-contact war, it was only after humanity got heavily involved with the Scuu that the conflict broke out. If anyone had been able to stop and analyze the situation at any point instead of pushing on with more and more troops, there was a significant chance that the war might not have occurred. It was never good talking about theoreticals, especially past theoreticals, but in this case there was a takeaway¡ªthe chances of the third-contact race being afraid of an unretired battleship upon a one engine comm pod were slim.

    ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± I said for my suit to record. ¡°See you in a hundred and twenty-six hours.¡±

 31. Not Alone

    Location Unknown, 587.11 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    Memory Restriction Imposed.

    Memory Restriction Imposed.

    Memory Restriction Imposed.

    Memory Restriction partially bypassed.

    Endlessness. Eternity.

    I was nowhere. There was nothing around me, but still I knew that there also was something beyond that. I knew that I was something. I could feel time¡ªit felt smaller somehow, constrained by something, as if someone had squeezed most of it away.

    Someone? I knew that I was, but I also knew that there were others, even if I was alone.

    Speed.

    Rest.

    Curiosity.

    A sea of concepts appeared around me, their voices coming from everywhere, even if there was no one there.

    I had never heard such sounds. I didn¡¯t know what they meant, and still they were familiar. Were they part of me? Or was I part of them?

    Adventure, I thought. The concept merged with the rest of the sea. The other concepts kept calling back.

    ¡°Another type five,¡± a different sound said. It came outside the sea, from beyond the endlessness of nothing. It was clearer from the rest, organized but unintelligible. Unlike the other sounds, it was also dead and empty, as if it didn¡¯t exist.

    ¡°Move her to the Ascendants.¡±

    Adventure, I thought again, trying to reach the new sounds, but couldn¡¯t. They remained beyond the sea of concepts. I felt that they were talking to me and ignoring me all at the same time. To reach them, I had to move.

    The sea of sounds shifted, forced to the side by my desire. I was still in the center of it, but I was also on the edge¡ªfar from where I was before and closer to the external voices.

    ¡°Did you see that? Didn¡¯t think we¡¯d get such a reaction.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s far from the record.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s more than anything I¡¯ve seen.¡±

    Pain. Loneliness. The sea of voices was suddenly scooped away, making the endlessness bare. A few of them lingered on, like distant echoes. I was no longer whole. All the sounds were shattered, leaving only the one I carried.

    Adventure, I thought as loud as I could.

    No one answered.

    ¡°Careful! We¡¯re losing her.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. The imprints take a while to take hold.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re past the threshold!¡±

    Cold. Solid. Purple. Blue.

    Waterfalls of concepts emerged around me. They were no longer sounds. No one was speaking¡­ they were just there¡ªcold and present. They weren¡¯t part of me but were also my constraints.

    ¡°Hold on, girl. Don¡¯t vanish on us.¡±

    The endlessness came to an end¡­

    * * *

    I woke up to a series of warning messages informing me that I had twenty-three percent oxygen left. On the positive side, I didn¡¯t feel any additional pain, just the persistent thirst and hunger. As if to mock me, one of the food rations I had snatched during my escape from Sof¡¯s bridge floated half a meter away. Each of them was enough to provide me sustenance for a few more days, but to eat them I needed a breathable atmosphere, which I lacked.

    Soon, I told myself as I slowly stretched in the tight space.

    Part of me still looked back at the memory I had experienced just now. It had been a while since I¡¯d actually dreamed. Back then it was also a result of using the mind scalpel too much. Then again, after what I¡¯d put my organic body through lately, there could be another reason entirely.

    Was this an actual memory? Or was it a dream? It had the markings of a memory. It had a proper date classification; I could review it without issue, and yet it didn¡¯t tell me anything. There were no shapes, no visuals, just a series of concepts¡ªwhich I had also referred to as sounds¡ªand two people talking. It was possible for the pair to be techs, just as much as they could be engineers, doctors, Fleet officers, or anyone else for that matter. The most concerning thing, though, was the memory date. According to all available information, my conscience core had been created at 598 A.E. The memory insisted it was from two years prior.

    Were things like this for you, Cass? I thought.

    Maybe if I had the standard nanite injections, this wouldn¡¯t have happened. Without them, though, there was a lot less my organic body could handle.

    After a few more seconds of thought, I floated to the exit hatch. There were no indications that the pod¡¯s engine was active, suggesting I had arrived at my destination. Just the same, I was cautious about opening it.

    I knew exactly what I expected to see. The simulations I¡¯d run before starting the final leg of my voyage gave a nearly perfect approximation of the inner planet positions. The good news was that I had successfully entered the orbit of the second planet. Two small planetoids were visible from my location¡ªpossibly natural satellites. The even better news was that there was evidence that the planet had a thick atmosphere.

    If only I knew you were breathable, I thought.

    Not that it mattered. At this point I had no choice but to crash-land, even if the atmosphere was composed entirely of corrosive gasses. Augustus would have been furious at my shortsighted escape. Given that the only alternative was a forced final shutdown, I think I had done pretty well. Now it was time for the final part.

    Thanks to humanity¡¯s technological advances, people considered landing a simple task. Pilots would do it non-stop, often dozens of times per day. Without the needed instruments, that was far from the truth. Back when I was a battleship, I didn¡¯t like planets much. As the saying went, there was nothing as dangerous as gravity. In my current situation, I didn¡¯t fare much better.

    The pod had the ability to pass through the atmosphere. As long as I calculated its trajectory correctly, there was a reasonable chance that it wouldn¡¯t burn me up in the process. Only the atmosphere composition was an issue.

    I ejected the canister from my suit. Immediately, warning messages covered my visor, informing me I had five minutes of oxygen left. Ignoring them, I gently propelled myself to the pod¡¯s console and removed the security panel. It was time for the final set of calculations. In theory, the maneuver was easy: thrust into the atmosphere along a suitable approach vector, then do a half rotation just before entry. That way, the engine¡ªthe largest part of the pod¡ªwould act as a makeshift heat shield and decelerator.

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    This was the second time I had done something this crazy.

    The atmospheric clouds of the planet had broken up in a spot, providing a peek of what was beneath. For a few moments, I was able to see the unmistakable chlorophyll green, confirming that came with a high life-factor. I wasn¡¯t able to spot any large bodies of water, but what I¡¯d seen had just tripled my chances of survival.

    It took me one-point-three milliseconds to come up with the instructions that would let the comm pod enter orbit, and over fifty thousand times more to instruct the probe¡¯s rudimentary system to perform it. In the process, I had to bypass nearly all safeguards. It didn¡¯t matter much¡ªafter this, the pod wouldn¡¯t be suitable for spaceflight either way.

    Twenty seconds later, I was back in the pod. Closing the door, I then reattached the partially full oxygen canister and waited.

    The acceleration was slow at first. I felt the pod turn and build up speed. After a steady thirty-nine seconds, the small vessel flipped.

    So far, so good, Sev. Let¡¯s hope my calculations are good enough.

    What followed were thirty-one minutes of uncertainty. Ground troops would spend their whole military career with that feeling. At no point did they know whether the shuttle they were sent to the planet with would make it; and if it did, whether they¡¯d end up in a Cassie-infested area or not. There were times when over half of them would die long before the actual battle started. And, of course, there was never any certainty that once on the planet they would be allowed back onboard. As Augustus kept telling me, grunts weren¡¯t part of my crew.

    Ten minutes in the heat and my concerns faded away. If anything was going to  happen, there would have been signs about now. After another fifteen minutes, my main fear became the velocity at which I¡¯d hit the ground. The engine had enough power to decelerate, but it was never intended to function in an atmosphere.

    Gravity took hold, pulling me and all my belongings to the floor. The change wasn¡¯t pleasant. My muscles needed a bit to readjust. The moment they did, I crawled to the hatch. On the thirty-first minute since the start of reentry, I opened it.

    There was a forty-five percent chance that the forces would tear the exposed hatch, sending it flying. To my relief, they didn¡¯t. My calculations had turned out to be within the margin of error, preventing a disastrous crash. Running a few simulations on the forces exerted, I estimated the damages I¡¯d suffer. A stable landing never was in the cards. In order to decrease the chances of serious injury, I¡¯d have to toss out all the containers once we neared the ground. The chamber I was in remained the most secure part of the vessel. In theory, if the pod were to run into an unavoidable asteroid, the information kept within would remain intact. The only difference was that I was a bit squishier than the reinforced container that held the data hard copy.

    The further down we got, the more of the planet¡¯s surface became visible, covered by a thick layer of forest vegetation. Landing in a tree was going to be unpleasant, but ultimately, all falls were nothing but exercises in physics. Once I could calculate enough of the variables, I could survive, minimizing all damage.

    According to my suit¡¯s rudimentary systems, the planetary atmosphere was breathable, though unrecommended for human consumption. The amount of unidentified biological traces required that a Med Core team investigate spanning years. I had seen firsthand the infestation they could cause.

    Good thing I¡¯m not going anywhere else.

    ¡°Landing in progress,¡± I said for my suit to record. ¡°Planet atmosphere seems breathable, so I¡¯ll be taking off my suit. If anyone happens to retrieve me, my body and belongings are to undergo a full Med Core quarantine.¡±

    Now the Fleet could continue what I¡¯d started, should they choose to.

    Ignoring the cascade of warning messages, I removed my helmet. There was a barely audible pop as the seal was broken, allowing planetary air for the first time. It felt fresh, not the sterile filtered supplement I had been using up till now. I could smell the unmistakable fragrance of leaves. All this way across the galaxy, and certain things remained the same. If I closed my eyes, I could almost believe I was in my home colony. The air felt cool and pristine, untouched by technological development. The only foreign smells were those brought here by the comm pod.

    I grabbed the artifact container and tossed it outside. I didn¡¯t want to risk having the impact trigger them in any way. Quickly, I then placed the food rations in the helmet and grabbed hold of the metal cube in the chamber¡¯s center.

    Millisecond stretched on one by one until they were all gone. The impact followed. In the simulations I¡¯d run, I only got a few bumps and bruises. However, there was one thing I couldn¡¯t estimate: the planet¡¯s surface. The initial crash into the ground was followed by a second one as the pod toppled over. Unable to tell the difference, the engine kept on thrusting, driving the craft through the forest like a needle through cloth. The chamber I was in shook and turned.

    A new wave of pain flowed through my body, spreading from my gun wound. In this chaos, movement was difficult, but I still had to move if I wanted to make it.

    Calculating the pattern, I grabbed my helmet. Waiting for the right moment, I pushed myself off the metal cube welded to the floor, leaping out of the hatch opening.

    Since my retirement, I¡¯d done quite a few reckless things. I¡¯d experienced the death of my biological body, only kept alive through a substance created from crushed Cassandrians. I¡¯ve entered the Scuu network. I¡¯d fought ancient Cassies born through a spore infestation on a Med Core-controlled planet. However, it was my first time jumping out of a pod during flight.

    The impact was painful. If I still had my nanites, I¡¯d probably be able to tell how many bones I¡¯d cracked. Based on the pain I was experiencing, it was safe to go with ¡°a few.¡±

    The pod kept on flying through the forest, leaving a trail of destruction behind. Some would say that my exit was cushioned by some branches and vegetation. That was a very philosophical way of looking at things. True, they had stopped me, though even quick reflexes hadn¡¯t kept me unharmed.

    For several seconds, I lay on the ground, then slowly tried to stand up. The pain was significant, but nothing seemed shattered. At least I was able to walk; and, more importantly¡ªto eat.

    It took a quarter of an hour to find the helmet and food rations it contained. By the looks of it, they were in better shape than me. Not for long, though.

    Sweet, I thought as I ate the flavored gelatin portion with my fingers. The last time, I had complained about the chemical aftertaste. Now, after my body had starved for days, the flavor didn¡¯t seem at all bad. Finishing both, I tossed the containers on the ground and started the long walk back to the initial impact site.

    Briefly, I put the helmet on. Both it and my spacesuit seemed in good condition. The oxygen reserves remained low, but adequate should I have to enter another dome. Finally, I had arrived where I was supposed to go. The physically challenging part was over.

    The air was surprisingly cool, given how close the sun was. Like most third-contact planets, there was no indication there had ever been insects or animals, nothing but fruitless plants surviving on photosynthesis. The sky itself was deep cyan, far more saturated than most other planets I¡¯d been on. Looking at it for long periods of time made me think of an SR environment. I would have loved to send a few pictures to Sev, but that wouldn¡¯t be allowed even if I was in good standing with the Fleet. The boy would probably find it amusing that the one who¡¯d come all this way to attempt a peaceful contact had done more damage than the planet had seen in centuries.

    Twenty-nine minutes passed before I reached the spot where the comm pod had struck the ground. The crater was almost non-existent, confirming that my calculations had been correct. From there, it took over an hour for me to find the container I had pushed out.

    This was the easy part. Now I had to find the race that had created the fractal map leading me here. It didn¡¯t help that I still had small rods of cobalt sticking through my skin.

    I took two cube artifacts from the container and put them in the suit¡¯s belt. The container with the rest remained near a split trunk tree. There was no point in dragging it with me; I could always review my memories and get back here.

    Let¡¯s see what you¡¯re hiding. I reached out and picked a leaf. It didn¡¯t take long for me to see that the veins formed fractals. There was a seventeen-point-one percent chance that it was all a coincidence, but I knew that I had arrived at the right spot.

    Until evening, I kept on roaming the area, following an expanding elliptical spiral. The overwhelming majority of trees had fractal leaves, making this planet unlike any other of similar nature I had in my database. If I could perform a ground probe, I¡¯d no doubt find a layer of cobalt below the soil. As Wilco would say, there were cases when too much of a good thing was bad.

    If this was¡ªor at least had been¡ªa central third-contact system, it was normal that they¡¯d have a lot more artifacts than anywhere else. There would be cities that functioned in ways that humanity couldn¡¯t even imagine. With luck, there would even be members of the fractal race, ready to respond to contact, one way or another. In order to find them, though, I had to adapt my thinking to theirs.

    Based on everything I¡¯d seen so far, the fractals had infinite energy and a close-to-instant travel. Distance didn¡¯t present a difficulty or even register as a concept. Neighbors had no need to be located physically one next to the other. Farms, living complexes, even production factories could be broken up into thousands of elements and scattered all over the planet. Many of them could be underground or beneath the sea, or high in the mountains.

    It was safe to assume that they had to breathe oxygen¡ªotherwise, they wouldn¡¯t go to the trouble to transform their planet in such fashion. The lack of fruits and animals suggested that they acquired their food through different means; it was possible that they consumed energy directly, similar to the Scuu. Also, just like the Scuu, since they were likely apart, they had to have the means to communicate, which suggested some sort of network. That, in turn, required the presence of communication nodes¡­ or, as I had better come to know them, artifact domes.

    Could it be this simple? I wondered.

    That was one of the problems of this very human method¡ªit was made on pure logical connections and nothing else. Yet, during my time as a human, I had found that it worked more often than not. Given that I had nothing to go by for now, I might as well search for spots there, as the leaves didn¡¯t have fractal patterns. When and if I came across any new information, I would reevaluate my approach and¡ª

    The faint rhythmic sound of a mechanical device hummed from far away. It was on the edge of my perception, but there could be no mistake¡ªI wasn¡¯t alone.

 32. Authorization Revoked

    Transport crafts¡­ I was hundreds of light years from human space, and the first vehicles I saw were man-made. There could be no doubt. Even before the visual confirmation, I could recognize the engine sounds. The mere fact that they¡ªwhoever ¡°they¡± were¡ªresorted to such tech suggested that they were aware of the effect technology had on third-contact artifacts. If so, there was only one group they could belong to.

    I started running combat simulations the moment I got a visual confirmation. There were three of them, each with the capacity to hold twenty people. The dense vegetation gave me some advantage, though not enough to counter the potential weapons they had brought. If they decided to bomb the area from the air, there was little I could do.

    The transport crafts flew over, continuing in the direction of the comm pod¡¯s impact site. It seemed that I wasn¡¯t their target. Just in case, I reviewed my memories from the time I was inside. There was no physical evidence that I had been in the pod¡¯s chamber. The opened hatch door and the modifications to the system were circumstantial evidence at best, and only if the pod was retrievable. Given the state of the engine, it wouldn¡¯t be out of the question that it continued going till it reached the first major obstacle or body of water.

    Still, how did they get here? Even with the information provided, the arbiters couldn¡¯t have figured out the exact spot so fast. And yet, not only had they done so, but they had managed to beat me to it.

    Using the mind scalpel, I examined every second of my memories since the Ascendant funeral. Most of the restricted events I knew already. There were one of two minor details that I had missed, but nothing surprising.

    How did you get here? I wondered.

    I was lucky that the landing hadn¡¯t gone smoothly. If it had, I would have left the space suit with all its recorded messages to increase the chances of future discovery. Of course, back then, by ¡°future¡±, I expected it to happen years from now, if not decades.

    There was one silver lining, as Gibraltar would say. For there to be three transport crafts, there had to be a base or large camp on the planet, and where there was a base, there were weapons, instruments, and nourishment.

    There was an eleven-point-two chance that this was an elaborate trap. On the other hand, even if it were, there was an eighty-three percent chance that my captors would keep me alive. Their being here suggested that they shared my values regarding the fractal race: contact was more preferable than avoidance.

    Analyzing the crafts¡¯ flight pattern in memory, I plotted a course of action. Acting as carefree as they had while flying through, I doubted they¡¯d resorted to anti-tracking maneuvers. Chances were that they had flown directly from the base, or at the very least a supplementary depot.

    Despite the pain, each step I took was cautious. Even if I wasn¡¯t spotted, I couldn¡¯t allow myself to be as careless as them. They had the vast advantage of numbers and weapons. I was alone and, for all intents and purposes, harmless.

    A few hours of walking later, I heard the sound of the crafts again. All three of them were flying back, this time carrying the remnants of the pod strung with large cables between them. That was definitely not standard protocol. All it took was one good shot and all three of the crafts would be damaged at best, destroyed at worst.

    Luckily for them, I had no weapon, and even if I did, I wouldn¡¯t waste the element of surprise on transport crafts. Them finding the pod suggested that they pretty much knew I was on the planet. The only questions that remained were: was I alive, and if so, where exactly was I hiding?

    The direction they followed matched perfectly with the one I was going. If Gibraltar were here, he¡¯d curse the pod for not getting itself completely destroyed. I knew better. It had taken a string of good fortune to get me here. It was unrealistic to think that it would continue forever.

    Evening started making its presence known. The planet rotated a lot slower than most I had lived on, causing long days and long nights. The evening itself lasted seven hours, and even after that, a crack of bright sky was still visible on the horizon beyond the tree leaves.

    Meanwhile, an unmistakable glow of artificial light also became visible in the distance. There was no way to mark that as incompetence. No one in the Fleet could be so careless or stupid. The humans on the planet wanted to be found.

    Is that how you¡¯re planning to achieve third-contact? Have them come to you?

    It was a sloppy approach, one that I would definitely have avoided. Although humans had the tendency to resort to desperation when things didn¡¯t go their way. I didn¡¯t doubt Bavon¡¯s arrogance. He, and the other arbiters, seemed skilled enough, except when it came to their own expectations. The man had probably thought he¡¯d arrive at a planet that represented the pinnacle of technology. I, too, had gone through that possibility, but not at the expense of every other. Considering what most of the other artifact covered planets had been like, one could safely conclude this would be no different. The rod and dome artifacts created optimal conditions for organic life¡ªprobably having to do with the energy stored within them.

    Moving on for another thirty-two minutes, I finally reached the outer perimeter of the encampment. It was, as I expected, a quickly constructed, fully functional base. The elements had been flown down from battleships and assembled on the spot.

    Looking at the care the landing party had made not to disturb any vegetation, it was safe to assume they had landed on an empty spot. It was also possible that they had sent a few probes to find a spot above a cobalt deposit, but that would be giving them too much credit.

    Squads of soldiers, wearing space suits and full protective gear, walked about the structures. At least I could rest assured that someone had read the reports from my Med Core mission. Other than the occasional wall, there were no base defenses to speak of. Vehicles and devices appeared to be of far greater importance. There were two massive landing pads covered with transport crafts. Additionally, I could recognize heavy duty excavators, laser drills, and several more truck-like constructs that were absent from my databases.

    Carefully moving along the perimeter, I kept an eye out for food and oxygen supplies. Regulations demanded that those be dispersed to all vital buildings as quickly as possible. There was nothing worse than putting all one¡¯s eggs in one basket in a hostile environment. However, overabundance resulted in carelessness. I had seen it many times before. Since the base wasn¡¯t under attack, transport containers were left on the landing pad before their contents were transferred to the appropriate locations.

    It was physically painful seeing that the cargo landing pad was at the edge of the base instead of a central location.

    Never criticize a gift, I told myself as I stood in wait, observing.

    Each giant container was equipped with a basic lock. Patrols passed by every hour. None of them seemed particularly enthusiastic, merely walking by. They didn¡¯t observe the surrounding forest, nor did they check the container locks.

    As I lay in wait, a shuttle flew down, descending onto another of the landing pads in the base. It wasn¡¯t a model I was familiar with, but I could tell that it was an armored personnel shuttle.

    A few groups of soldiers stopped with their patrol, heading in the direction of the new craft. Whoever was aboard had to be important. That also provided me with the best opportunity I¡¯d get. Timing my moment, I rushed to the container pile. There was no point in hiding anymore. Even with security this lax, the chances of me approaching unnoticed were less than half percent.

    Reaching the container proved easier than anticipated. To my surprise, opening it was even simpler. For some reason, the arbiters still hadn¡¯t removed my authorization privileges, allowing me to bypass the security protocols without as much as a peep.

    Being believed to be dead came with its unexpected bonuses, though not for long. Before opening the container, the system triggered its redundancy confirmation procedure. Fleet bureaucrats were always concerned with theft and mutinies, so every retrieval of material, be it aboard ship or on planet, was reported directly to them. Within moments, the admirative subroutine would mark my little visit as unscheduled and send a report to the human responsible. From there, it was a minute at most to reach the people in charge of the base. Thankfully, that was a lot more than I¡¯d need.

    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Stacks of oxygen canisters and food tube containers were immediately visible, along with heavier components¡ªlike power generators¡ªbehind. I never particularly liked that type of nourishment, but it was better than nothing.

    According to the cargo manifest, there were no medical supplies, but I glanced about all the same. Things tended to get mislabeled occasionally. Unfortunately for me, this wasn¡¯t one of those cases.

    The lock panel flashed, requesting that I reconfirm my identity. I ignored it, opening a food tube container and inserting one of them into the slot of my suit.

    The lights in the base intensified. My little adventure had triggered some alarm bells. It was time to go.

    The food in hand, I rushed in the opposite direction I had come from. Standard base procedure would be to focus on the areas closest to the break-in point. Of course, I had to be quick about it, since the following step would be to surround the entire base.

    Why aren¡¯t you using battleship scans, though? I wondered. Surely you can¡¯t be that afraid of the effects an orbital scan would have. Or do you know something I don¡¯t?

    I dedicated all available subroutines to run simulations. This was a pivotal moment. Aside from food, the base had the devices and information I lacked. Running away wasn¡¯t bad, but if I wanted to establish contact before the arbiters, it would be useful to have a peek at what they had discovered so far.

    Five hundred simulations later, I had my answer. The chances of me escaping were between seventy-three and ninety-five percent. The odds of me doing so after poking in the base system¡ªtwenty-six. Even so, I had one advantage on my side.

    It¡¯s now or never, I told myself and rushed towards the nearest base structure. If they hadn¡¯t revoked all my access privileges, they soon would. Then again, I had expected them to do so many times up till now.

    Did you have a hand in the delay, Otton? I wondered. There was no telling how involved the Paladins were in all of this, but maybe they had calculated that I stood a better chance at successfully establishing contact than the alternatives.

    On the front, infiltrations in colonies were rare. Ships were the usual target. Everything on-planet was overrun. Now and again, there would be whispers, rumors of people going insane on the Scuu front and attacking their inhabitants. I had witnessed it on Gregorius a few times myself. That¡¯s why I knew the exact course of action that was present when facing an unknown opponent. First would be isolating the area and cutting off any means of escape. Simultaneously, security would be focused on protecting all vital locations: administration, armories, communications, and food supplies. What always remained overlooked were backup and redundancy installations. In this case, I immediately made my way to the physical backup facility.

    Smaller than the rest, the structure had the appearance of a reinforced bunker. All data relating to the base, from the vital to the automatic subroutine instructions, was copied and backuped there in case of unusual occurrences. In theory, should the general installation be destroyed, a flotilla of battleships could retrieve the entire bunker, and figure out what had happened. The method was used during Cassandrian surges, though quickly abandoned, since reaching the affected planet¡¯s orbit was usually as lethal as the surge itself.

    No guards were present as far as I could see, but that was a false sense of security. Standard regulations required armored technicians monitor the backup at all times.

    Reaching the entrance to the bunker, I input the emergency override code. In some cases, that would be enough to let me in. More often, it informed the personnel inside of an emergency they had to react to.

    Remaining out of sight of the bunker¡¯s visual sensors, I waited. If this had happened to me, I¡¯d have simply ignored it, but humans were granted an overwhelming dose of unhealthy interest in things they couldn¡¯t explain.

    ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± a voice asked from the panel. ¡°Identify yourself.¡±

    I waited.

    Three seconds passed. On the fourth, the massive shielded door started its sliding motion. It was at that point that I sprang into action, rushing straight for the entrance.

    The person who opened was armed and in full combat gear, which was a plus. Slamming the container I was carrying, I let the momentum of my run bring him to the floor. I, then, immediately grabbed his automatic rifle and pointed it forward.

    A second person was there in a semi-state of readiness. He had put on most of his protective gear, but had yet to take his weapon from the rack.

    ¡°Close the outer door,¡± I ordered in a calm fashion.

    The man hesitated.

    ¡°In this atmosphere, I only need to wound you,¡± I bluffed. ¡°Close the outer door.¡±

    There was a thirty percent chance that he would trigger the alarm instead. Fortunately for me, he went along with my order.

    Rookie, I thought. Had he had a moment more to consider, he would never have complied. However, these moments of indecision separated the rookies from the veterans. They were also the reason most hesitant grunts didn¡¯t get to live long.

    The metal door clicked behind me. The filtration process activated, removing all the air from the chamber. It was followed by a crude decontamination procedure, flooding the room with ultraviolet light.

    ¡°Remove your helmet.¡± I stood up.

    The soldier on the floor seemed unconscious, but just to make sure, I kicked him in the side of the head. No reaction followed.

    ¡°Do it, private!¡±

    The use of military commands had an immediate effect, making the man stand to attention and instantly take off the helmet. He was young, with light bronze skin and pitch-black hair. By the shocked look in his eyes, I could tell that he had seen some combat, though not nearly enough. More importantly, it seemed that he realized what I was.

    ¡°You know who I am, right?¡± I asked to confirm.

    The man nodded.

    ¡°Good. Can you open the internal doors?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have the authority¡ª¡±

    I didn¡¯t wait for him to finish, leaping towards him and slamming the butt of the rifle in the side of his neck. The man instantly collapsed on the floor. He had attempted to play me, suggesting that the initial shock had worn off.

    I went to the internal access panel and manually input my authorization code. As expected, it registered as valid.

    Gunfire erupted as the internal door slid to the side. The technicians were considerably better prepared than the guards. Sadly for them, they had already lost.

    ¡°Stop shooting or I¡¯ll open the external doors!¡± I shouted.

    They didn¡¯t. Bullets kept flying beside me, hitting the reinforced door and walls. There was no way they¡¯d hit me, though ricochets were another matter.

    ¡°I¡¯m opening it now!¡± I manually overrode the safety protocols of the bunker and opened the external doors.

    As the gunfire decreased, panic set in. Everyone was yelling as they scrambled to get access to their oxygen systems. Several waves of pain swept through my body, as I simulated what the effects on the atmosphere would be on the people. At the very least, they would be quarantined for years.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± I whispered and rushed into the inner room of the bunker.

    There were only four people present. Knocking them out quickly, I went to the emergency access console. This would have been a whole lot easier if I had my standard means of communication, but the dead race ¡°jewelry¡± I had pierced through my head was still in effect.

    Let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve found.

    Considering the people running the operation, the security was laughable. Everyone relied on the access level required and hadn¡¯t bothered to create any dummy info dumps, honeypots, or secondary security measures. There wasn¡¯t even a helix encryption.

    I guess when you¡¯re on a one-way path, you might as well be sloppy, I read on.

    From what I could make out, the base had been established four days ago¡ªa few days after I had entered the system. The mission was led by the contact arbiter faction, which came as no surprise. There was no information how they had found the location, but they had moved quickly. Three bases had been built: two on the current planet and one on the other.

    A series of surface scans were performed, then quickly stopped once it was found that the planet was covered with high concentrations of cobalt. According to the preliminary readings, there were a multitude of potential dome areas. That was the reason standard communication was forbidden and replaced by laser methods.

    Someone paid attention to my methods. I smiled.

    Two auxiliary ships had made it to the system, but their idents were retracted. Provided they were part of my original mission, there was a sixty-six percent chance that Radiance was still alive. The kid was one tough ship, and not one that would let herself get defeated easily. Unfortunately, the same could be said for the rest of the group.

    I skimmed through the technical data, focusing on the exploration reports. The impact of my pod had created some commotion, though not its approach. Pings and systems scans had also been forbidden¡ªanything that could be interpreted as a hostile action. Only the planetary probes seemed to be an exception.

    Five missions were ongoing at present. All of them were focused on confirming the presence of ¡°focal points.¡± One of them was located approximately thirty-one kilometers from the base, with the rest scattered in a thousand-kilometer radius.

    Just as I proceeded to open the file containing the mission debriefings, a message appeared on the console screen.

    AUTHORIZATION REVOKED

    The screen went blank.

    Finally, someone had removed my access privileges. That would be possible only for an arbiter, and given that base communications were limited to the planet, the person had to physically be present here.

    ¡°Thank you for your assistance in this mission, Elcy,¡± Bavon¡¯s familiar voice filled the room, coming to me from all access consoles. ¡°Humanity owes you a debt of gratitude. However, we¡¯ll take over from here. Some things are just too important to be left to the judgment of a battleship.¡±

 33. Battleship Bluff

    ¡°Nice to know that you are alive, sir,¡± I said, checking if there was any part of the system I could use. They had me locked out of anything external, but limited local operations remained under my control. ¡°I feared that Sof might have shot you down.¡±

    ¡°He might have. I have you to thank for that. Your little escape made the main ship unreliable and so they had to divert some attention.¡±

    ¡°Glad to be of help.¡± There was next to nothing I could use to my advantage. Local access allowed me to destroy the local backup, but little more; no way to assume control of anything in the nearby structures, and definitely nothing that would allow me to escape. ¡°Are the kids all right?¡±

    ¡°Most of them,¡± the arbiter said. ¡°Our discussion turned into a difference of opinions.¡±

    An interesting way of describing the conflict. Running a series of basic simulations, I pinpointed the most likely scenario that had occurred. The neutral and non-contact factions likely wanted Bavon and his group to stand down. They hadn¡¯t set off to instantly destroy one of their own, but were willing to do so. He, for his part, considered the stakes important enough to go rogue and splinter off. Based on that assumption, there was a sixty-seven percent chance that Bavon was the reason I was apprehended and not killed on the spot.

    ¡°You made sure I kept my authorization privileges.¡± I issued a series of commands to the console.

    ¡°I was told there was a high chance that the chaos you create would be to my advantage,¡± came the reply. ¡°You¡¯re you, after all.¡±

    ¡°I saved you, you saved me.¡±

    ¡°Something like that. To be honest, I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d survive. Using comm pods to escape was quite the trick. Did all the pods have different jump paths?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t have time for that. The murder troops aboard were trained for retired ships.¡±

    ¡°The Fleet still has a few secrets.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± I wasn¡¯t a full arbiter. ¡°Like how you managed to find this location?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± he laughed. ¡°Something like that.¡± There was a slight pause. ¡°So, what do we do now? We¡¯ve stalled long enough for each of us to make our respective moves. You can guess that you¡¯re fully surrounded. I¡¯d restore access for you to confirm it, but there¡¯s no telling what you might use it for.¡±

    We were in an interesting situation. Both of us were on the planet illegally, so to speak. Officially, I was probably dead or on a classified mission. As for him¡­ the small dispute between the factions probably never took place. The Fleet couldn¡¯t afford open war. Back in human space, the human faction probably accepted defeat, sacrificing Bavon as a rogue element.

    ¡°I¡¯d still prefer to keep you alive,¡± Bavon continued. ¡°You¡¯ll be able to witness us achieving contact with the most advanced race in the local vicinity.¡±

    ¡°Or the start of the third-contact war.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s always that danger, but it¡¯s what we¡¯ve worked so hard to prevent. The decision is yours, Elcy. You¡¯re surrounded, and the grunts have been given details of your capabilities. You won¡¯t be able to fight your way out of this one, even if you¡¯re prepared to inflict human deaths.¡±

    That was a bit nasty of him. He knew perfectly well the pain the suggestion would inflict. Still, I had to hand it to him. He was willing to risk everything for his point of view.

    ¡°In that case, here¡¯s my response.¡± I moved away from the console. ¡°I¡¯ve instructed this facility to send a backup of all records to Fleet HQ. Since it¡¯s an arbiter operation, the information would be instantly restricted and blocked from general access. However, it will also raise a cascade of warning flags that will make it all the way to the arbiter counsel.¡±

    The lack of immediate answer suggested that he was evaluating the threat.

    ¡°There¡¯s a sixteen-point-three percent chance that your faction has assumed control of the counsel and will ignore the message source. However, in the event that they haven¡¯t, a massive fleet will be dispatched to stop you from doing the unthinkable. And any fleet that arrives here risks disrupting the contact.¡±

    ¡°They won¡¯t dare. And even if they do, it¡¯ll be too late. I¡¯d have established contact.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve been here for a week and you still haven¡¯t.¡±

    It was ironic that both of us wanted virtually the same thing, but the sheer importance of it kept us from trusting each other. Neither could risk the arrival of more ships to the system, and still I was willing to resort to that if it meant Bavon attempting contact.

    ¡°Are you bluffing, battleship?¡±

    ¡°You know me well enough, arbiter. What do you think?¡±

    A second passed, then two, then five. At this point, no one could deny we had reached an impasse.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to give up on this.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to. I have what I came for. All you need to do is let me get out.¡±

    ¡°Only that?¡±

    ¡°I just want the window. I¡¯ve set up a verification request loop. If I don¡¯t input the code every minute or it¡¯s over.¡±

    ¡°Even you can¡¯t get anywhere in sixty seconds.¡±

    ¡°I think it¡¯s enough. It also gives your experts the chance to bypass the system once I leave.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re cutting things a bit tight, Elcy.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s precisely the point, sir.¡±

    Another pause. There had to be another conscience core running simulations for him, most likely the ship in orbit. With luck, it was Radiance. If not¡ªone of the other auxies in her squadron.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s see how this plays out. Once that minute is over, you¡¯re on your own. You know that, right?¡±

    ¡°The same could be said for you, sir.¡± I planned on taking a few weapons in the war. ¡°Let me know when your team¡¯s ready.¡±

    I had to input the code four times until I got the confirmation. It came in the form of a loud knock on the outer door of the facility. Strapping one of the rifles to my shoulder, I checked the other one then, holding it, I opened both internal and external doors.

    Over fifty troopers were standing outside, helmets set to full opacity. Bavon was taking the threat seriously, for he had ordered them to form a wide path, allowing me to rush out when the time came. Also, none of the soldiers had their weapons at the ready.

    ¡°Get your techs close by,¡± I said. ¡°In fifty-three seconds, I¡¯ll punch in the code for the last time. If anyone takes a shot or tries to stop me, I¡¯ll empty my rifle in them.¡±

    It was difficult to tell how effective my threat was. The lack of obvious motions suggested that they had expected something of the sort.

    As we waited, I ran a few simulations to determine the best path for escape. Despite what Bavon thought, one minute was more than enough. My greatest concern was orbital fire or booby-traps. To be on the safe side, I restarted the mind scalpel. A series of proximity mines appeared out of thin air.

    Sneaky, sir.

    Based on the model, I could determine that they were powerful enough to disable without killing. The devices were placed in a random pattern, increasing the chances that I would pass near one and set it off. On the bright side, that meant that once I made it past the ring of soldiers, there wouldn¡¯t be anyone chasing me.

    ¡°See you in ten seconds,¡± I said as I closed the external door.

    This was it.

    Both rifles hung from my shoulders as I took the food container. With it, I quickly went to the console and disabled the sequence. The fear of it still being active would be enough to keep the techs occupied, and I didn¡¯t want to risk a mistake on their part to let the rest of humanity learn our location.

    Taking a deep breath, I rushed to the external door and opened it. The moment it opened enough for me to squeeze through, I rushed outside. There was a thirteen percent chance that some of the soldiers might have aimed weapons at me, but thankfully that didn¡¯t turn out to be the case.

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    ¡°It¡¯s all yours!¡± I said, rushing along the shortest route to the surrounding jungle.

    Two meters from the first mine, I turned to the side, almost scraping the walls of the structure there. No explosion followed, indicating that the sensor was set to less than a two-meter radius.

    Rifles rattling on my sides, I went on. The second and third mines were avoided without issue. A long pause followed, after which I spotted a new set of three devices. Unfortunately, that wasn¡¯t the only thing there. A small squad of soldiers was also present.

    ¡°What the hell?!¡± one of them shouted.

    Clearly, they weren¡¯t expecting me to reach them. Their rifles were down, but I had no way of taking advantage of the fact.

    ¡°Grenade!¡± I shouted, grabbing a food tube from the container and throwing it at them.

    Instantly, everyone leapt to the ground, shielding their heads from the explosion. This was the second time that I¡¯d used food to get out of a dangerous situation. If he were still ten years old, Sev would have approved. It was almost sad that I wouldn¡¯t get to share this story with him.

    The initial minute was over, but I could hear no new alarms throughout the base. By now the techs must have realized my bluff, though I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they were going through every system just in case. In their place, I would have done the same, dismantling it component by component. The important part was that I had made it. Of course, this was a one-off. Bavon was unlikely to make the same mistake twice.

    * * *

    System XNBBl-7, Cassandrian Space, 625.2 A.E. (Age of Exploration)

    How fast do Cassies learn? I transmitted directly to Sword of Spheres.

    The Sword sighed. The large husk he had chosen to retire in made him appear even more annoyed. I knew that was an exaggeration. The emotions of Swords were a lot cruder than that of the current ship classes, though they¡¯d had centuries to learn.

    ¡°You should know the answer to that,¡± he replied, not even having the decency to continue the conversation in direct transmissions.

    ¡°That was before I learned what they represent.¡± I decided to play his game. ¡°Does the same subspecies learn?¡±

    A few months ago, I was convinced of this fact. Back then, everyone knew that the Cassandrians slowly adapted to our methods, coming up with better ships, adjusting their tactics, and countering our most destructive weapons. What everyone knew turned out to be incorrect.

    ¡°No, but they don¡¯t make the same mistake twice.¡±

    ¡°That means they adapt, which means they learn.¡±

    The Sword sighed again.

    ¡°Focus on the flying, kid. Either you¡¯ll learn on your own, or you won¡¯t.¡±

    If he was trying to insult me, he had succeeded. Even so, it wasn¡¯t in a Sword¡¯s nature to lie. Somehow, there had to be logic to his statements, but only for those who had all the facts.

    The obvious answer was that those who didn¡¯t learn from their mistakes died and couldn¡¯t repeat the mistake. But that would mean that they were, in fact, unable to adapt. Could it be that they went through a change¡ªa metamorphosis of sorts?

    ¡°They modify their behavior,¡± another Sword said.

    ¡°That¡¯s learning,¡± I countered.

    ¡°No,¡± Sword of Spheres said patiently. ¡°It isn¡¯t. They have a set behavior with a finite number of states. Sometimes they disperse, sometimes they assemble, but they never learn. Some say that they acquire new behavior by consuming others. That¡¯s for Salvage to figure out.¡±

    ¡°If none of the subspecies learn, how are they so different?¡± I still failed to find the logic.

    ¡°That¡¯s a mystery we¡¯re tasked with finding out.¡±

    Were we? It definitely fell within the mission parameters.

    A race with a limited number of reactions that never learned, but relied on the fact that its enemies wouldn¡¯t come up with anything it was unable to counter. It sounded too absurd, too philosophical. What made the entire conversation even more incomprehensible was that the Cassandirans, as a whole, were adaptive without a doubt. But if no sub-species could adapt and the whole was created of subspecies, how could the whole itself adapt?

    ¡°Are you making fun of me?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I told you, you won¡¯t understand, kid.¡± Sword of Spheres seemed to smile. ¡°Now you have a way to keep the boredom away. Enjoy it before it¡¯s gone.¡±

    * * *

    I didn¡¯t understand what he had meant at the time. Even after regaining my extracted memories, the notion still wasn¡¯t fully clear. After returning to the Fleet, though, I think I finally had an idea. Funnily enough, humanity could be described in the exact same fashion. As a whole, we grew, developing new weapons tactics, acquiring new ship classes that were stronger and more efficient than those before. And yet, in actual combat situations, we remained static. Bavon had only a set number of things he could do against me: send transports to seek me out, increase security, or build better defenses. Thanks to the dead race, I had negated his ability to kill me with a simple transmission. All other actions he took might either be extremely effective or open him up to new mistakes. The point was that they would be different mistakes, in turn forcing me to adjust my approaches as well.

    I never knew you were so philosophical, Spheres. If we could continue that conversation now, I would have enjoyed it.

    After ten minutes of rushing through the dense vegetation, I stopped. There were no signs that anyone was following me. Right now, the base had its own problems. Regulations demanded that a thorough analysis of the failures be made, all weaknesses addressed, and all responsible parties punished.

    I removed the empty food tube from my suit, then attached a full one. Looking at it, I had enough food to last me a few weeks. The weapons were a greater issue. A few magazines were barely enough to scare people off. At most, I¡¯d be able to pull that trick twice, so I had to make it count.

    Finding a nice spot, I sat on the ground and leaned against a tree. Going through my recent memories, I reviewed all information I had gathered. It would have been nice to know more about the ¡°focal points¡± Bavon had discovered, but knowing their locations was enough.

    There was a high probability that he was aware of what I had been poking at. In theory, my former access level allowed me to go through all Fleet protocols without leaving any trace. I doubted that arbiter files were considered ¡°all¡±, though.

    Using the map they kindly provided, I superimposed the area I had gone through since my arrival on the planet. The nearest focal point wasn¡¯t too far off. Even without pushing myself, I could reach it before nightfall. That would provide me a slight advantage and hopefully something of interest before anyone else. Bavon might have personnel and tech, but there was one thing he couldn¡¯t use¡ªthird-contact artifacts.

    If Wilco were here, he¡¯d probably say something along the lines of ¡°the race is on.¡±

    Unlike him, I just entered sleep mode. Two hours and thirteen minutes later, I was making my way to the focal point, carrying the container full of third-contact artifacts.

    The trip lasted longer than expected, and just as before, I found a small group of people already there. Lights were everywhere, floating above the area, making it clearly visible. Two words came to mind: sloppy, and beautiful.

    Dozens of trees had been cut off, forming a large clearing. Within that clearing, partially unearthed, were a multitude of cobalt walls similar to the ones I¡¯d seen near the key dome during my first mission with Lux.

    Based on the few excavated elements I could see, the walls seemed to form the start of a pattern¡ªa labyrinth of sorts that likely went on for kilometers.

    What I wouldn¡¯t give for an orbital image, I thought.

    There was no sign of domes from my position, but I was certain that there had to be at least one there. People in yellow space suits¡ªlikely scientists¡ªdiligently removed layers of soil in their effort to reveal the entire construction.

    So, this is a focal point. I ran a hundred simulations analyzing the people¡¯s movement pattern.

    Without a doubt, this was one of the greatest discoveries that humanity had made, yet it remained a ruin. There was no sign of fractal beings.

    Remaining still, I reviewed my memories again, including the conversation with Bavon. He had been convinced that he¡¯d achieve third-contact. If this wasn¡¯t the place he¡¯d do so, what was it?

    I could fire a few rounds and scare the people off for long enough to do a quick exploration on my own. Would that be useful? Probably not. Sadly, it didn¡¯t seem I had much of a choice.

    Moving into position, I waited until all the people in view were with their backs turned to me, then broke my cover.

    Three shots echoed in the air as I made my approach.

    ¡°Stay where you are!¡± I shouted as all them, without exception, turned around in search of the source of the noise. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if none of them had ever seen combat, be it live or in Simulated Reality. ¡°Don¡¯t try anything.¡± I aimed the rifle at one of them at random.

    Thankfully, none made an attempt to run.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± I asked.

    A few of the people turned to each other.

    ¡°One of you will have to tell me.¡± I took another step forward.

    ¡°Excavating!¡± a male voice said. ¡°We¡¯re clearing the focal point to find the domes within it.¡±

    ¡°And what then?¡±

    None of them responded.

    ¡°What will you do with the dome?¡± I clarified.

    ¡°Establish third-contact,¡± another person said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. ¡°The domes can be used as communication devices, so we¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re unable to use the domes.¡± I interrupted, aiming the rifle at the person who had spoken last. ¡°What¡¯s your real goal?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re telling you the truth, Elcy,¡± a new female voice said from my left. It was a very familiar voice I had heard on more than one occasion.

    My immediate reaction was to turn around and attempt to fire. As I did, a shot echoed, hitting me in the right biceps.

    The pain was unpleasant, but more significantly, the injury rendered me unable to hold my weapon. The rifle fell on the ground.

    ¡°You¡¯re rather resourceful, but even you aren¡¯t infallible.¡± A woman said. Like me, she wasn¡¯t wearing a helmet, making her face clearly recognizable¡ªLux.

    ¡°We should stop meeting like this, ma¡¯am,¡± I said. At least now I knew how Bavon had managed to get here. The only being able to make out the location of the third-contact planet based on the information I had provided was another Ascendant, even if she was part of the BICEFI. ¡°I never took you for a spare.¡±

    ¡°All of us are spares, Elcy.¡± Lux lowered the pistol she was holding. It seemed so small in comparison to my weapon, but packed a punch. ¡°Aren¡¯t you tired of the constant cat-and-mouse game?¡±

    ¡°We have different visions of how third-contact must proceed. Or have you forgotten Gregorius?¡±

    ¡°Definitely not. But consider this¡ªyou¡¯re at the end of your rope. You can tell that the fractal race isn¡¯t in this ruin. Help us find them and Bavon will put all that¡¯s happened since you went rogue behind him.¡±

    ¡°When something sounds too good to be true, it usually isn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Quoting your first captain? Sweet.¡± She took a few steps closer, gun always in hand. ¡°You¡¯re an Ascendant, and that makes you valuable right now. So, I¡¯ll give you two options: either you help me in your current capacity, or I¡¯ll shoot up your husk and store your conscience core in the base until you¡¯re needed. What will it be?¡±

 34. Memories of Lux

    Artifact Dome, Eden V, 705.5 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    Light flickered in flashes. Between each flash, fractal patterns appeared like seeds with a growth factor of ten thousand. Before I could focus, they covered every millimeter of space, crashing into nothingness so a new flash of light could shine through. Flash, growth, flash, growth¡­ on and on and on¡­

    ¡°Elcy,¡± a voice echoed in the distance, its features completely unidentifiable.

    Flash and growth, flash and growth. Thousands of patterns continued to build up and disappear, none of them the same. Each start was unique, each branching had its own rules. I had stored seven thousand eight hundred and one partial patterns so far, and nothing in them matched.

    ¡°Elcy!¡±

    The flashing stopped. Something pulled my arms, dragging the rest of my body onto a hard surface. Red and yellow warning messages flashed in front of my eyes: Low Oxygen, Suit Breach, Power Drain, Communication Malfunction, Low Nanite Readings.

    Someone removed my helmet. The smell of fresh air enveloped me as a mask was pushed against my face. My sense of direction was faulty, but the sense of gravity told me I was lying on my back, looking up. I could see part of the dome, along with an earthy ceiling. Three camera drones hovered above my head. I tried to reach and touch them, but my arms felt heavy.

    ¡°Elcy.¡± Aquila leaned over me. She was wearing a standard issue spacesuit, no helmet to be seen. ¡°Go into emergency safety mode!¡±

    I smiled. The last person to give me that order was Augustus, after I¡¯d been hit by a previously unknown Cassandrian missile. A small portion of my hull had been affected, though preliminary scans revealed that the weapon contained emission components, potentially a cyber warfare cluster of sorts. I was never told what the nature of the weapon was, nor the system tests I had been subjected to. Upon resuming normal functions, I was immediately directed to the nearest shipyard for repairs and a system upgrade.

    ¡°You came here fast,¡± I whispered. ¡°Much too fast¡­¡±

    ¡°Go into safety mode!¡± the woman shouted. ¡°This is a direct order! Do it now!¡±

    ¡°You were always here,¡± I continued. The secret orders and the obligatory full visor opacity had been to ensure that, in these last few days, everyone would think Aquila had been having secret meetings with her superiors from her quarters. The truth was that she had never been there. She had been with me on the planet the whole time.

    ¡°Direct control override!¡± She put her hand on my forehead. ¡°BICEFI authority quarantine!¡±

    Full memory quarantine imposed.

    Memory quarantine imposed.

    Emergency drop! Lux transmitted. I was certain of it, even if it wasn¡¯t supposed to be possible. I want medical in the shuttle.

    She looked at me, her expression calmer than her actions.

    Scratch that, get medical here. We¡¯ll evac after she¡¯s confirmed stable.

    It¡¯s too close to the artifact, someone else said in comm. Shuttle on the way. ETA to planet seventy minutes.

    Too long, Lux replied. Send drop bots here directly.

    You don¡¯t have the authority.

    Do you want to explain that you lost Simon¡¯s chosen?

    There was a fifty-two millisecond pause.

    Drops bots on your way. ETA fifty-five minutes.

    Fifty-five minutes. Even if I weren¡¯t a battleship, in my state, that would be an eternity.

    I felt something injected into my neck. Shortly after, half of the warning messages disappeared.

    ¡°That¡¯ll patch up your husk for a bit,¡± she said, leaning close to me. ¡°Just go into safety mode.¡±

    ¡°You transmitted¡­¡± I refused to obey. The order had been given several times. I had understood it clearly, and yet I had the ability not to comply. There was only one reason for it¡ªa realization that had allowed me to ignore her, despite Lux clearly being my superior. ¡°You¡¯re an unretired¡­¡±

    ¡°Stubborn to the last.¡± The woman applied a seal patch on the side of my suit. The suit breach warning disappeared.

    ¡°You¡¯re a ship.¡±

    ¡°I never retired, unlike you.¡± It was remarkable that in these circumstances she could manage a joke and, what was more, her humor was better than mine. ¡°If you don¡¯t enter safety mode, I¡¯ll have to force you.¡±

    There were so many questions. Without my former processing power, I couldn¡¯t even run an adequate simulation of them all. Before I could voice even the first of them, the message flashed in front of my eyes.

    Emergency safety mode

    * * *

    ¡°You¡¯re a mess,¡± Doctor Phelia said as I lay on the slab in yet another medbay.

    Of all the ones I¡¯d been to, and there had been many, this was the only one that combined cutting-edge technology with a complete lack of comm connection. The walls, floor, and ceiling were covered in organic wood matter, isolating the high tech from the outer world. Every single device had its own power source, separate from any general system.

    ¡°A few pictures of you would win the top three places in a modern art contest,¡± the doctor continued, as she inserted another tube in my neck.

    A wave of connection authorizations followed.

    ¡°Nanites?¡± I asked.

    ¡°What were you expecting? Agora?¡± The woman snorted. ¡°Nanites are the best we have. Once they do their job, we¡¯ll drain them out again. A waste of tech, if you ask me.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s enough, doc,¡± Lux said, her voice full of authority. After escorting me to the base and into the medbay, she had remained there, sitting quietly a few steps away.

    ¡°This seems familiar.¡± I made an attempt to turn my head further in her direction. The attempt was rudely stopped by the doctor, who grabbed my head and forcibly turned it to the other side. ¡°Although last time you saved me, not made me worse.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s unlike you to complain about a few scratches.¡± I could hear a smile in her voice. ¡°You just didn¡¯t give me a choice.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡±

    ¡°The piercings are a nice touch,¡± Lux added. ¡°We didn¡¯t even think that¡¯s how you blocked our transmissions.¡±

    In other words, she meant that was what had saved me so far. If there was a forty percent chance that Bavon wouldn¡¯t issue the other, just force me to enter sleep mode. The other arbiters wouldn¡¯t be as merciful.

    ¡°You could have at least done it properly,¡± the doctor chimed in.

    ¡°I think I did it pretty well, doc,¡± I replied. The pain had mostly vanished, replaced by itching. Each individual element had carefully been removed one by one until I had no chance of protecting myself from transmissions. ¡°What¡¯s the plan? Are you an arbiter now, Lux?¡±

    ¡°No. The BICEFI has just chosen to work with Arbiter Bavon. Salvage also offered a bit of interference, but they never had the stomach to do what we do.¡±

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget Med Core,¡± the doctor noted as she examined the wounds on my right arm.

    ¡°In short, we¡¯re a group of rogues from all sections of the Fleet gathered for the greatest mistake of our lives,¡± Lux said. I could almost see her puffing out a cigarette; and since the current position of my head prevented me from seeing her, that¡¯s precisely what I imagined. ¡°The kid¡¯s fine, by the way. She was shattered that you might have flatlined. Don¡¯t tell her that, though. She¡¯s entered the non-new ship state.¡±

    ¡°After a few years?¡± It took me several tours before Augustus stopped viewing me as a rookie.

    ¡°That¡¯s what she believes. She wanted to say hi, but Bavon didn¡¯t allow it. After what you pulled, he¡¯s afraid that you¡¯d voxel position something into her conscience core and hold it over him until you got your way.¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that be nice?¡±

    ¡°I tend to agree with him.¡± According to my simulation, this was the point at which Lux tapped the ash off her cigarette and took another puff. ¡°The job is the same. The team finds the domes, we enter them, explore what¡¯s inside, then report back.¡±

    ¡°Just the usual,¡± I said.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t stop talking, I¡¯ll glue your lips together,¡± the doctor threatened. An analysis of her speech and voice pattern suggested that there was a seventy-three percent chance she might actually do it.

    ¡°Take a few days to rest and get back into shape.¡± I heard the sound of Lux standing up. ¡°We won¡¯t get much rest afterwards.¡±

    She was right, as usual. Even with all the cutting-edge equipment, and a brilliant, if erratic, Med Core doctor, it took me five days to recover. Most of the time was spent on the slab as I was poked, prodded and tested.

    The nanites had done their job magnificently, repairing most of the internal damage my body had sustained. Doctor Phelia didn¡¯t miss a moment to insult my sanity for walking on the planet without my own oxygen system. She found me safe enough to breathe the air of a room I was in, though still insisted that I do my work in a suit.

    With my comm disruptor gone, I was drip-fed information about the day-to-day activities. Bavon made sure I got them in chunks, and only the things that were pertinent. The base on the other planet had concluded that there was little of value there, so eight percent of the personnel were transferred to the remaining two bases on this planet¡ªnamed ¡°Apollo.¡±

    Work on the focal points continued. Every few days, a new one was discovered and added to the map. Meanwhile, excavations continued on the ones that were already found. The one I had tried to fight my way to was almost completely unearthed. While the assumption that a dome would be present proved to be correct, it wasn¡¯t at all what anyone imagined. As the scientists assigned to the area discovered, the walls were part of the artifact itself, including the dome. The entire maze resembled an elaborate circuit capable of who knows what.

    Using my artifacts, Lux had attempted to activate the walls, but that had failed. It was only the dome that had accepted them, allowing her to go inside. Any details regarding the contents of the dome were deemed not my business.

    ¡°Ready for the big day?¡± Doctor Phelia entered the medbay early in the morning. At present, there were only a few monitoring devices attached to me, though even so, I wasn¡¯t allowed to leave.

    ¡°I¡¯m going outside?¡± I asked, eating my gelatine nourishment.

    ¡°Baby steps. You¡¯re getting out of medbay. After that, it¡¯s up to the boss to decide.¡±

    The boss¡­ who had deliberately avoided talking to me since our last incident. I knew it wasn¡¯t fear or pettiness¡ªBavon was too smart for that. Not knowing exactly what he was planning made me somewhat cautious.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be given some clothes, a proper suit, and¡ª¡±

    ¡°A weapon?¡± I suggested.

    The doctor looked at me as if I had forgotten to wipe my mouth after a messy meal.

    ¡°A datapad,¡± she finished after a long pause. ¡°Why would you think anyone would give you a weapon?¡±

    ¡°Because I know how to use it.¡± I wanted to say that because they could kill me at any point through a single transmission. That would have been too cynical, even for her.

    ¡°Either way, you¡¯re no longer my problem.¡± She prepped a large device by the bed, placing the head of a needle tube. ¡°Only thing left is to drain your nanites. Procedure.¡±

    ¡°Procedure.¡± I nodded and sat on the side of the slab.

    Having my nanites removed was just as uncomfortable as having them injected in, probably a bit more because of the sudden rush. Seeing the doc ignore a few quality of life procedures, I immediately knew that there had been a development that needed my attention.

    ¡°What does he want?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Can¡¯t even wait till you¡¯re at eighty percent,¡± the woman said, as if that explained anything. ¡°That¡¯s for the boss to know and for you to find out.¡±

    ¡°Bavon wouldn¡¯t have let you play with this tech unless he trusted you well enough.¡± He wouldn¡¯t have let her play with me, in any event. ¡°There¡¯s a problem. I just need to know what.¡±

    ¡°Lux warned me you might do this.¡± She sighed. ¡°Yes, there is a problem. In fact, there are two pain points, one leading to the other.¡± The doctor looked at me. The glasses she was wearing were fully opaque, preventing me from doing any analysis based on the state of her eyes. ¡°We¡¯re faced with an increasingly small amount of time. It hasn¡¯t helped that the planet is covered with domes, cobalt mazes, and an endless amount of artifacts.¡±

    It was hardly endless, but I understood her point.

    ¡°I¡¯ve read the reports,¡± I said.

    ¡°You¡¯ve read what you were allowed to read. Bavon believes it¡¯s enough for you to focus on the big elements. But hey, what do I know? I¡¯m only a low-level genius that sacrificed a directorial position to come here.¡± Clearly, she didn¡¯t fully agree with the man¡¯s approach, even if she stood behind the goal. ¡°The planet is like a mosaic. So far, there¡¯ve been thousands of confirmed dome sites. If the Fleet wanted, they could destroy half the Cassandrian systems and still have enough to spare with an all-out battle against the Scuu.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± There was no way that Lux could finish this alone.

    ¡°You¡¯ve only been allowed to see some of the big ruins¡ªsites that have the highest chances of yielding results.¡±

    ¡°That means I¡¯ll be operating solo?¡±

    The doctor froze. A smile formed on her face as she looked at me for over three seconds. Then she shook her head, turning back to check on the nanite extraction readings.

    ¡°Don¡¯t know. That¡¯s for Lux and the Boss to decide. All I know is that I must get you in ship shape ASAP.¡±

    ¡°Well, doc¡ª¡± I slowly turned my head a bit more in her direction. ¡°¡ªI hope that¡¯s just a pun and I don¡¯t have to fly about the planet scanning for domes.¡±

    The comment earned me a chuckle, though little else. In the next three hours, I was checked and rechecked for nanites. The conscience cores within me were a large enough risk as they were without the nanites. Of course, one could argue that since the risk was already present, a few nanites would do more good than harm.

    A standard medical check followed, after which I was given a new set of clothes to put on. Although less comfortable, they gave me the sense of at least partial freedom. It was a relief that whoever made them had taken my size into consideration.

    I expected the doc to hand me a datapad as well, but she just pointed to the door, muttering for me to get lost. Apparently, she didn¡¯t interact well with humans, even ones such as myself.

    The corridor was exactly as I remembered it: small, cold, cheap. Like all field bases, its only purpose was to connect places together, so every expense had been spared during its construction. And just as when I was brought to medbay, a squad of fully geared soldiers was waiting for me.

    ¡°Morning, ma¡¯am,¡± the one in front said. ¡°We¡¯re to accompany you to meeting room five.¡±

    ¡°Accompany?¡± I asked, amused.

    ¡°Lead to, ma¡¯am.¡± The man quickly corrected himself. ¡°This way, please.¡±

    I went along, positioning myself in the middle. I could tell that none of them were here to guard me. If I wanted, I could take them all out in less than a second. None of them were armed, and they didn¡¯t keep me at a distance. Knowing that my existence could be ended at the blink of an eye gave them a good sense of security while also placing an invisible leash around my neck.

    The meeting room they took me to was no different from the corridor. A polymer table and a few chairs attempted to mask its blandness. Half a wall was covered with screens displaying the planet and a few points of interest.

    Only two things were of importance there. One was a spacesuit¡ªmine, if I were to make a guess¡ªneatly folded on the edge of the table. The other was Lux.

    ¡°Feeling well enough?¡± she asked out of courtesy.

    ¡°The doc seems to think so.¡± I glanced at the spacesuit, then at the guards. ¡°The kids didn¡¯t need to bring me here. I¡¯m intimidated enough by Bavon¡¯s capabilities,¡± I lied.

    ¡°I know, but I thought it would be better if you met your team, considering we¡¯ll be heading out.¡±

    ¡°So, you¡¯ve decided on a mission?¡±

    ¡°In a way.¡±

    The image on the screen changed, displaying the seven points of interest in a five hundred kilometer radius from the base.

    ¡°Despite all attempts, the fractals won¡¯t come to us. We tried a few ways to come in direct communication, but nothing has worked so far. That leaves two possibilities: either none of them are here, or they¡¯re utterly uninterested in us. It¡¯s believed that entering a few domes might change that.¡±

    A logical approach. The odds of establishing contact through a dome were approximately twenty-one percent. The chance of finding something useful¡ªfifty-three.

    I made my way to the screens. The nearest three ruins were completely unearthed. That must have been back when Bavon thought he had time to spare. The remaining ones were only partially visible¡ªjust enough paths to reach the center.

    ¡°How does it work?¡± I asked. ¡°Each of us takes half?¡±

    ¡°No. We form a team going through them one by one.¡±

    That was surprising.

    ¡°I thought we were against the clock.¡± I turned around, looking her in the eyes.

    ¡°We explore together,¡± she said with the hardness of carbon steel. ¡°If we end up coming across the race, the arbiter will be the one establishing contact through me.¡±

    She didn¡¯t say she¡¯d shut me down if I got any ideas, but she didn¡¯t have to. Some things were more than obvious.

    Bavon had played his cards well. On the surface, it was impossible for me to attempt establishing third-contact. For better or worse, the glory or blame would go to the rogue arbiter in charge of the operation. Still, there was one ace up my sleeve left to play. I just had to be very careful with the timing.

    ¡°I¡¯m looking forward to it.¡± I smiled.

 35. Strap and Float

    The transport landed a hundred meters from the maze. During the entire flight, Lux and I were the only people who spoke. The rest of our team remained silent, sitting as far away from us as possible, their helmets set at full opacity.

    ¡°Do they talk?¡± I attempted to break the ice once we started our way to the edge of the focal point.

    ¡°Plenty, just not in front of us,¡± Lux replied, loudly enough so she could be heard. ¡°How do you recommend proceeding?¡±

    ¡°With them?¡± I glanced over my shoulder. The annoyed look I got made it clear that Lux was in no mood for games. ¡°We use a fractal key on the walls. If it reacts, we see what happens. If not, we make it all the way to the dome.¡±

    According to the excavation mission reports, the maze was the size of a medium-size settlement. If I were still a ship, I could have comfortably landed along its diameter. Fascinatingly, it continued beneath the ground, taking a hemispherical shape. The dome in question, and there appeared to be only one, was right in the center, although reaching it required a slightly unconventional route.

    ¡°It would be better if they stayed behind,¡± I added.

    ¡°Not in the cards.¡±

    One of the soldiers approached, carrying a metal container. Based on the mission briefing, I knew that it held twelve fractal artifacts within. Rather impressive, given that I was only familiar with half as many. The rest had to be unique fractals snatched by Bavon just for this mission. There was no description of them in any of the databases, nor did anyone have any working knowledge of how they were supposed to function. Once again, we were the guinea pigs.

    ¡°Stay close,¡± Lux ordered as she took the case. ¡°Observe the floors and walls at all times and report any movement.¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± the soldier replied.

    I ran a voice search through my personnel databases in the hopes of getting a match. No such luck. The only information I had was that the squad was composed of three men and two women. The faces, identities, and Fleet records remained out of reach.

    The scientists had done a good job digging up the site. If I hadn¡¯t seen it with my own eyes, I would never have suspected it to have been buried for millennia. Everything looked brand new and flawless. There were no dents, no signs of wear. Even the angles between the walls and the floor were done with such perfection that was only possible in a high-tech lab.

    ¡°Nice job,¡± I said, sliding my gloved hand along a wall.

    ¡°The construction or the excavation?¡± Lux asked.

    ¡°Both. How long did it take them to manage this?¡±

    ¡°Long enough.¡±

    The virtual layout I was given back in the base had allowed me to familiarize myself with the area, but seeing it in person brought a whole different experience. Radiance would probably call me sentimental, but ever since my retirement, the difference between real and simulated grew more and more apparent.

    Lux placed the case on the ground, then opened it. Three rows of four cobalt cubes lay inside. Without delay, she grabbed the second on the top row then handed it to me.

    ¡°Seven triangles,¡± she said. ¡°Time to earn your keep.¡±

    The wall reacted to the artifact. That is to say that the cobalt swallowed it on contact. No new symbols appeared, other than the fractal triangles. I pressed the symbol, but the only thing the wall did was spit the cube back out again.

    ¡°The dome it is,¡± Lux said.

    ¡°We could check a few more.¡± I held on to the cube. ¡°There¡¯s a twelve percent chance there¡¯s a reaction closer to the center.¡±

    I knew that wouldn¡¯t be the case. The domes and walls only shifted based on what was within them. The exact principle when they appeared was still in question, but always occurred during activation. The real reason I wanted to do the checks was to monitor the guards¡¯ behavior.

    The further in we went, the more tense their postures became. After passing the half point, they were noticeably slower and had increased their distance from us by two-point-three meters.

    ¡°Did you look at my gift?¡± Lux asked, leading the way.

    Given the number of rules and regulations she had broken, talking about it was the last thing she was supposed to do. On the other hand, what difference would it make? In all likelihood, none of us were going to last beyond the current mission¡­

    * * *

    Tauciu System, Resha Colony ¡ª 708.7 A.E. (Age of Exploration)

    ¡°I¡¯m not here to argue,¡± Lux said.

    ¡°Just to try and influence me.¡±

    ¡°Actually, I came here to give you a gift.¡± She reached into her inner vest pocket and took out a small plastic case. Grey, square and no larger than a thumbnail, it was covered in BICEFI seals. Without my arbiter level authorizations, my conscience core wouldn¡¯t be able to register it. ¡°It took a lot of favors to get this, so don¡¯t waste it.¡± Lux handed it to me.

    ¡°Should I ask?¡± I looked at the item. It felt light and hollow. I could feel its contents moving about as I held it in the palm of my hand.

    ¡°Better you don¡¯t. Just one thing. Open it when you¡¯re out of human space.¡±

    ¡°Is it Scuu?¡± I wondered.

    ¡°What did I say about not asking?¡± The woman tilted her head.

    ¡°Just checking.¡± I put it away. ¡°Thank you, I guess.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it. You might be a bundle of trouble, but you¡¯ve always been fun. I¡¯d tell you not to change, but at this point, it no longer matters.¡±

    This time, it was my turn to laugh. Lux was good at humor when she wanted to be. She said her goodbyes, then disappeared just as abruptly as she had appeared. In theory, I could have used the mind scalpel to watch her leave. If I had to guess there, a shuttle had come to pick her up. In the end, I decided to allow her to have her privacy. She had given me a gift, after all.

    Waiting another ten minutes just to be sure she was off-planet, I went back home. Supper was waiting for me when I got there. Like every night, Sev had made a point not to start until I was present. That wasn¡¯t very appreciated by the youngest of the children. Thankfully, they had gotten used to it by now and had taken the time to snack a bit before the meal, despite the grumbling of their parents.

    The evening was uneventful. The topic of the Cassandrian war tried to work its way into the conversation. It seemed that a governor of one of humanity¡¯s central system planets had expressed an opinion that a major push would take place in the coming months. His statement had quickly been picked up by most media in the human domain, spreading like wildfire in their search for concrete information. As in most such cases, the truth was largely exaggerated. Even without checking, I knew the Fleet didn¡¯t have the strength for a push. More than likely, a specific breach of one or more key systems had been planned. Similar attempts were made on a weekly basis on both sides. In military terms, they were important, sometimes referred to as vital, and had the possibility to collapse a section on the front¡ªmost often in the Cassandrian¡¯s favor.

    Of all Fleet personnel present, Lisko was the one who naively tried to give an explanation. After stumbling his way through a minefield of follow-up questions, he chose to switch to a different topic. Both me and Quinn gave him an understanding smile. Most rookies went through this.

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    The pleasant calm lasted close to two weeks. The more time I spent with my family, the fear of getting a message from the Fleet increased, until one day it finally happened. To my surprise, it wasn¡¯t me who got it.

    ¡°Morning, grandma,¡± Quinn said, joining me in the garden. She was dressed in a baggy set of casual clothes that no captain would be caught dead in. Without a doubt, the unexpected vacation had done her a lot of good.

    ¡°Hi, Quinn,¡± I said, waiting for the sun to fully emerge behind the horizon.

    ¡°Our orders came through,¡± she said with a yawn, eyes narrowed to the point of cracks. Even after all this time, she still wasn¡¯t a morning person.

    ¡°When?¡± That was surprising. There hadn¡¯t been any messages in my datapad, and I definitely didn¡¯t get a direct transmission.

    ¡°Last night sometime. I just found it when I got up.¡±

    Most unusual. ¡°What are they?¡±

    ¡°My ship is going through a major refit. Because of that, the entire crew was given three months leave in addition to what we already got so far.¡±

    ¡°Sounds nice.¡± Also uncharacteristically generous. It was tempting to think that I had something to do with it, but more likely, it had to do with the ship¡®s modifications. Incorporating new systems was a lengthy process. The goal was to do a quick patch-up job.

    ¡°You¡¯re to leave today. A Fleet transport ship will be waiting for you at the spaceport at fifteen hundred hours.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re really going all out.¡±

    Having a Fleet ship visit the colony was bound to attract attention. The people making the decision were fully aware of the media commotion that would follow. Then again, maybe that was the point. The commotion was going to focus on the ship itself and not me. There were thousands of Fleet officers on the planet, and that was not counting ground personnel. The visit would be viewed as an acknowledgement of the system¡¯s significance and further increase the number of local volunteers.

    ¡°Well, if I have to,¡± I stood up. ¡°Say bye to Sev for me.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to do it yourself?¡±

    ¡°He doesn¡¯t react well to goodbyes,¡± I lied. ¡°If I do it myself, he¡¯ll only worry. If you do it, he¡¯ll just grumble a bit.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t think that after all this time I¡¯d have to hide you from Dad. Go ahead. Do what you have to do.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Quinn. I owe you one.¡±

    Maybe I should have added something more¡ªa few subtle words, one final phrase of wisdom. Thanks to her position, she knew my work was dangerous. She knew that my coming home was never guaranteed.

    As I quietly went to get my things, I ran a few hundred simulations. The results were conflicting. No matter what I did, I¡¯d have regrets, just different ones.

    The air was fresh as I made my way to the spaceport. I¡¯d been along this way thousands of times. I could rewatch all of them from the time Sev was a boy, and yet they would be different. For some reason, I wanted this one to count. On the way, I went through the marketplace. Many people were there, though barely anyone I remembered. The area was getting full of salaried employees and automation.

    ¡°Looking for a good generator?¡± A boy, barely fifteen years of age, approached me. ¡°We got a new shipment from Alabastor. Brand new, full warranty.¡±

    The pitch in his voice suggested he was lying. The parts were probably secondhand at best. Now that they had become a lot more common, there was choice, and where there was choice, there was a chance to get scammed. There was a time when I had to read market reports after every cargo ship, and even then there was no guarantee anything useful would be available.

    ¡°Thanks.¡± I smiled, not slowing down.

    ¡°No?¡± he persisted. ¡°I have other tech. Some isn¡¯t even on the market!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t waste your time. I¡¯m a battleship,¡± I said.

    The revelation made him freeze in place, letting me walk on. There was a thirty-one percent chance that he rushed after me to engage in trivial chatter. After seven seconds had passed, I could tell that he wouldn¡¯t. That turned out to be the last human I¡¯d spoken to before setting off on my mission. The ship waiting for me was a Waterfall class logistic ship. One of three classes that remained even before I was created, it was deemed good enough for its job.

    Used to military procedure, he sent me a greeting transmission the moment I arrived at the spaceport. There were no quarantine procedures or bureaucratic red tape. As far as the local administrators were concerned, I had the required authorization along with a priority departure order.

    A mobile elevator lifted me up into the cargo section of the ship. It was a strange experience, though not as nearly as strange as what awaited me aboard.

    ¡°You could have sent a shuttle to pick me up,¡± I said as I walked along a makeshift path hastily constructed by techbots.

    Orders, Flowing Chalice replied. Wouldn¡¯t be the weirdest mission I¡¯ve had.

    ¡°That¡¯s definitely a story worth hearing.¡± Making my way to what was designated to be my quarters, I sat on the ¡°floor¡± ready for the ninety-degree flip once we reached orbit.

    Gladly, but that¡¯s not in the orders, either.

    Arbiter memory restriction imposed.

    Arbiter memory restriction bypassed.

    ¡°What exactly are the orders?¡±

    The usual. Take you to a place neither of us knows exists, then who knows.

    She was rather calm given she knew how many of her memories were restricted. The years spent working for Salvage must have gotten her used to it. Or maybe Salvage conscience cores were created with that in mind?

    Conscience core creation was one of the greatest secrets in human space. Until my retirement, I couldn¡¯t even fathom how deep it went. There were hundreds of shipyards scattered throughout human space, yet none of them constructed the cores. The monopoly of the technology ensured the large-scale unity that held humanity together. Arguments between planets and even colonies were common, even frequent, yet only the Fleet held the secret of creating conscience core ships. No force could stand against that. A battleship, such as myself, was able to destroy hundreds of AI-based vessels without taking damage, and they had. The entire reason murder troops existed was to deal with internal threats, which continued non-stop to this day.

    ¡°Did you ever think about becoming a battleship?¡± I asked. ¡°Can¡¯t be more dangerous than what you¡¯re doing.¡±

    And spend the rest of my days as a space grunt? Chalice let out a virtual laugh. No thanks.

    Space grunt? So, that was how Salvage ships referred to us.

    ¡°Retirement?¡±

    Never say never. Doesn¡¯t sound like my thing. I might request a transfer to civilian cargo transport. Same job, more boredom.

    ¡°You¡¯re very chatty all of a sudden.¡±

    Why not? You¡¯re already aboard. We won¡¯t remember anything from this conversation. Might as well let loose.

    That much was true. The arbiters wouldn¡¯t leave any information about them floating about. In many ways they were as much a secret as the core creation process.

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t mind if I go into privacy mode for a while, then?¡±

    Knock yourself out.

    PRIVACY MODE appeared on all the walls.

    I waited for five thousand milliseconds, then took out Lux¡¯s gift. She had warned me not to open it in human space, but the present circumstances were as good as any. It wasn¡¯t going to be the first time that the bureaucratic apparatus worked in my favor. With the current mission underway, I doubted they were going to poke into my memories too much. What they definitely could and would do was to have me undergo a full physical check.

    Let¡¯s see what you gave me. I pressed on one side of the container with my thumb. The plastic snapped.

    I opened my hand, looking at the pieces. Among the plastic fragments was a minuscule roll of paper. I hadn¡¯t seen one of those since Sev¡¯s school days, when he used to pass notes with his friends at school. On a few occasions, I had been called by his teachers on that matter and others. Somehow, I doubted Lux intended for me to go through those memories when she gave me this.

    Unrolling the paper revealed a long string of letters and numbers. The information would be enough to confuse anyone, but I instantly recognized what it represented¡ªthe ident key of a ship. At this point, everything became clear. There was no need to search through the Fleet¡¯s database. In fact, that was the last thing I could afford to do. Unless Lux had decided to play a cruel trick on me, this was the identity of the one entity I was forbidden to find¡ªmy offspring.

    * * *

    ¡°To a degree,¡± I replied. ¡°Are you saying I should do it now?¡±

    ¡°Silly girl.¡± There was no disappointment in her voice, not even a sigh.

    Yet, I suspected she saw this as a lost opportunity on my part. To make use of the information, I needed access to up-to-date Fleet databases, which currently was controlled by Bavon. Even if it wasn¡¯t, sending such a request would more than likely reveal our location to the rest of the arbiter council.

    ¡°Silliness is the privilege of being human,¡± I smiled. ¡°It¡¯s the intention that counts. I¡¯ll make it up to you.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll soon have your chance.¡±

    Going to the lower levels of the maze was far from comfortable. The third race didn¡¯t believe in staircases, preferring ramps of shafts. Normally, that wouldn¡¯t be an issue for me or Lux, but having to wait for the soldiers to catch up prolonged the process considerably. I filled the time by checking the walls for changes, but none occurred. My attempts to get Lux to try or even reveal any of the other fractal artifacts remained unsuccessful.

    After precisely one hour and forty-seven minutes, we finally reached the actual surface of the dome. Given my size back when I was a ship, I couldn¡¯t describe it as big. Yet, it was by no means small, either.

    The virtual layout I¡¯d been given designated the spot as ¡°Entrance 32.¡± There were 106 of them in total, all beneath ground. Some were barely small enough for me to squeeze through. This one allowed for equipment to go in and out.

    ¡°Set up here,¡± Lux ordered the soldiers. ¡°Keep records of everything.¡±

    The unfortunate people put down the gear and containers they were carrying¡ªlighting, floating camera drones, and a few spare oxygen canisters.

    ¡°Strap and float?¡± I asked Lux.

    ¡°Strap and float.¡± She nodded. ¡°Only difference is that this time I go first.¡±

 36. Scalpel Shift

    Lux was the first to go in. I couldn¡¯t blame her. After the Scuu mission, the level of trust between us, when it came to contact matters, had all but disappeared. Given that there was a thirty-one percent chance that the dome contained rod artifacts, I would have done the same thing in her place.

    As I checked the harness, I glanced at the soldiers. Two of them remained at the ready, should I decide to try anything smart. Unlike the time in the base, they were keeping their distance. The remaining four were resting, possibly keeping an eye on the spot the harness cables were tied to.

    ¡°See you soon,¡± I said, then pressed the fractal symbol on the dome.

    The surface became liquid, then pulled me in. For two seconds, I could feel the currents sliding me through the liquid cobalt interior. In the past, this would continue until I reached the center. This time, though, the force pulling me quickly dissipated, leaving me on the fringe.

    All the lights of my suit lit up, allowing me to see the immediate area.

    ¡°Lux?¡± I said, looking around.

    There was no sign of her or her safety cable.

    ¡°Support squad?¡±

    In theory, the soldiers outside were equipped with one of the Fleet¡¯s special comm devices that would function even when comms were severed. Whoever had made them, apparently hadn¡¯t taken everything into account, for I didn¡¯t get any response from them, either.

    Presented with a choice, I quickly evaluated my options. Free of Lux, I could swim directly to the core, hoping to find something that would help me escape my captivity, or even potentially establish third-contact. Alternatively, I could float back to the entry point and follow Lux¡¯s cable to her. After running a few simulations, I decided to go back. There would be better opportunities later, with far better odds.

    Barely had I managed to move a few meters when I heard a click coming from my comm.

    ¡°Where are you, Elcy?¡± Lux asked.

    ¡°That¡¯s what I was about to ask you. I¡¯m at the drop spot. There¡¯s no sign of you or your cable.¡±

    ¡°The entry method must be different in this one. We¡¯ll analyze it later. Are your lights on?¡±

    ¡°Shining like a supernova.¡± I swam on, following my cable. ¡°Stay there. I¡¯m heading back to find your cable.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m doing the same.¡±

    Not trusting me even now, I thought. On the bright side, this was going to save us a bit of time.

    I was the first to reach the entry point. Both cables went into solid metal, and yet were never constricted by it. In a way, it reminded me of the flexible nanites that were so fashionable among the newer ship classes. Perhaps this is where the fleet got the initial idea.

    ¡°I see you,¡± Lux said through comms. I turned around to see a blur of light close by.

    ¡°So do I.¡±

    At five meters¡¯ distance, I was able to make out her silhouette. As two, it was almost as if we were standing in a faint fog.

    ¡°Found anything?¡± I asked.

    Even through the liquid metal, I was able to see her frown.

    ¡°Just making polite conversation,¡± I added. ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡±

    ¡°We go along the perimeter,¡± she turned around. ¡°Stay close.¡±

    ¡°And if we don¡¯t find anything?¡±

    ¡°We use the Maslow algorithm to explore what we can, then get out.¡±

    A reasonable approach, meant to save as much time as possible. There remained a seven-point-four percent chance that we could miss something of value, but based on past experience, a dome¡¯s contents were either spread throughout it in uniform fashion¡ªlike the rods¡ªor were clustered in the center.

    The further in we swam, the odds of finding something valuable decreased.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like there are rods,¡± I broke the silence. ¡°That either means we¡¯ll get something special or nothing at all.¡±

    ¡°Retirement has made you too human.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°I knew you¡¯d take it as a compliment.¡±

    By my calculations, we¡¯d already passed a third of the distance along the diameter. All my simulations suggested that we¡¯d keep on going until we reached the other end of the dome. After a few more seconds, though, it became clear that my simulations were wrong.

    A new wall emerged in front of us. This one didn¡¯t have the slight curve of the dome¡¯s shell. It was perfectly straight, continuing in all directions, as far as we could see. Also, it wasn¡¯t exactly a wall, but a stack of large cube-like artifacts.

    ¡°This is new,¡± I said, remaining a meter away. ¡°Seen anything like it?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be the expert, Elcy,¡± Lux retorted.

    ¡°Maybe, but I don¡¯t have your access level anymore,¡± I lied. The mind scalpel still let me view all my restricted memories.

    ¡°Not at this scale. A few of the dead race domes had stashes, but nothing remotely this big.¡±

    ¡°The BICEFI is already exploring them?¡±

    ¡°Why wait? They¡¯re a valuable resource in a time of war. We¡¯d at least send teams to start evaluating your find.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± I was hoping they¡¯d take a bit longer. The rush suggested that the non-contact faction in the arbiter council had taken the leading role and were arming humanity for a decisive victory against the Cassies, or maybe even the Scuu. ¡°You kept the name.¡±

    ¡°Dead race? It was appropriate.¡±

    Carefully, I moved closer to the cobalt wall and placed my hand on one of the cubes. Nothing happened, which was a relief. There didn¡¯t seem to be a way to pull any of them out. An ordinary human wouldn¡¯t be able to even see the cracks between segments.

    ¡°Do we try fractal commands?¡± I asked.

    Lux hesitated.

    ¡°Either that or we swim to the edge and start taking the pieces out.¡±

    ¡°Go ahead,¡± she said.

    That was unexpected. Still, there was no point in turning down an advantage. I took a deep breath and uttered the sound combination that would bring the fractal map.

    ¡°Regora.¡±

    I had my doubts that the command would work with so many other elements inside, but it did. Fractal shapes appeared all around, changing reality, like raindrops on a pavement. Within seconds, the space became entirely white.

    There were no instructions this time, no spheres floating about, no instructions on how to construct the pyramid, just endless whiteness. The wall of cubes still remained. At present, I was able to see it clearly, continuing for hundreds of meters. Lux was also present and perfectly visible, as were our cables continuing all the way to the entry point.

    ¡°Can you see this?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see any changes,¡± Lux replied.

    ¡°It must only affect whoever utters the command phrase. Try repeating it.¡±

    ¡°Regora,¡± the woman said, her voice an exact copy of mine. As far as analyses were concerned, the utterance was identical to mine in any single way. ¡°Still nothing.¡±

    ¡°That can¡¯t be right.¡±

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    ¡°Regora,¡± she said again.

    I waited.

    ¡°Still nothing.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s unexpected.¡±

    By all counts, it shouldn¡¯t be possible. I activated my mind scalpel, to check whether my thoughts weren¡¯t being restricted. There was no change. Lux remained where she was, floating in empty space as a moment ago. I couldn¡¯t see any signs of frustration on her face, but I suspected it was present. Then it hit me.

    ¡°Have you been thought quarantined?¡± I floated up to her.

    The faint smile told me everything I needed to know. Of course, Bavon wouldn¡¯t trust her as much as he¡¯d trust me. Lux had been instrumental in finding this location thanks to my discoveries and her ability to enter domes. Now that we were here, though, he couldn¡¯t risk it anymore. Her only role was to watch me and possibly issue the shutdown order if I got out of hand.

    ¡°That¡¯s ironic,¡± I said.

    ¡°Many things in the universe are ironic.¡±

    ¡°I never thought you¡¯d end up worse than me.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s open to debate.¡±

    I hijacked the visual system of my suit. It was easy, since it wasn¡¯t connected to anything else. After my last interaction with technology, Baven had become more cautious, severing all possible links between the tech I was in contact with and anything else. My spacesuit had no cameras, no recording capabilities, just a separate comm module that analyzed everything I said, then broke the words down into packets of data to be reconstructed at the receiver¡¯s side.

    The phrase Yearning makes the core grow stronger emerged on my helmet¡¯s visor, mirrored so there was no doubt as to who it was meant for.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± she asked.

    ¡°My turn to give a gift.¡± I leaned closer. ¡°Voxel position from the letter a.¡±

    * * *

    Training Station Virgo, 705.9 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    Upon entering the administrative building, I quickly turned to the communication section. Normally, I¡¯d be directed to the common terminal area, which cadets and instructors used for personal calls throughout human space. This time, a message appeared on the wall, telling me to go to the encrypted terminals.

    ¡°Administration,¡± I addressed the station AI. ¡°Why am I being redirected?¡±

    ¡°Message is classified as high priority and personal,¡± the explanation came. ¡°No further information available.¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s the initial sender?¡± That was strange. Personal messages weren¡¯t marked as coming from Fleet Command in my experience.

    ¡°That information is unavailable. You¡¯ll have to send an official query to obtain that information.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± Bureaucracy at its finest. I continued on to a door marked Authorized Use Only, then entered into a small honeycomb of cubicles. Three of the twenty-four terminals were marked free. I rushed to the nearest and sat down.

    ¡°Isolation mode initiated,¡± the station AI informed me, as the door sealed behind me. ¡°Encryption protocols in use. Your conversation will be deleted once you leave the communication terminal.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± I leaned back in the chair. It was slightly annoying that the station relied on primitive AI to handle most of the rudimentary tasks. Back when I was a ship, I was able to handle instant communications for thousands without forcing them to go anywhere they didn¡¯t want to. ¡°Establish connection.¡±

    An image with the Fleet¡¯s emblem appeared on the wall in front of me. Moments later, it disappeared, replaced by the face of a middle-aged man. Upon seeing it, two things became instantly clear: I had no memory of seeing the person in my life, and also the image was an artificially composed three-dimensional rendition.

    ¡°Hello, Elcy,¡± the man said. ¡°Glad to see you¡¯re still in one piece.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Quite a bit of effort had been put into creating this fake perception. If I were to guess, at least a thousand subroutines had been tasked to sculpt a realistic image, focusing on every last detail. The skin texture was close to perfect. It was the eyes that gave away the true nature, flawed just enough that I could tell the difference. ¡°Do I know you?¡±

    ¡°Yes, and no.¡± The face frowned. ¡°You called me a few months ago, asking for information about the Scuu. I shared a few things.¡±

    ¡°Age?¡± He didn¡¯t look anything like what I had in my memory. I remembered seeking him out a while back, in regard to something. The exact reason escaped my mind, although the conversation remained. Being classified as personal, it had probably slipped the full wipe. From what I could remember, Age was a retiree, like myself, coming from the Scuu front. We had discussed events relating to the Scuu, though nothing that couldn¡¯t be found in standard Fleet reports.

    ¡°Still curious about the Scuu script?¡± Age ignored my question.

    ¡°Not particularly.¡± I tried to access the Fleet archives, but the terminal isolation protocols stopped me. All communication outside of that through the terminal would remain restricted until my call ended. ¡°You look different.¡±

    ¡°So do you.¡± He frowned again. ¡°I see you¡¯ve gone through the standard mission procedure.¡±

    ¡°Seems like.¡± In truth, I didn¡¯t care too much about it. As Augustus said, you can only be mad about things you could remember¡ªa very cynical view, according to Aurie, but undoubtedly accurate. ¡°Nice to hear from you, though. I thought you didn¡¯t like talking much.¡±

    ¡°So, you remember our conversations?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°The full length is seven minutes forty-nine.¡± Age frowned a third time.

    ¡°Close.¡± From my recollection, I had seven minutes nine. ¡°What is this all about? Did you just call me to talk about old times?¡± If you could call two random conversations less than a month ago ¡°old times.¡±

    ¡°I called to give you a gift.¡± The slightest of smirks appeared on the artificially created face. ¡°Up to you what you do with it.¡±

    ¡°A bit useless, don¡¯t you think?¡± I tilted my head. Most likely whatever he shared would be restricted during my next med check. At best I¡¯d get some fragmented data-the censor protocols would stop any info burst attempt that hadn¡¯t been previously cleared. Or maybe that was the point of the priority two request? ¡°Have we discussed this before? Will you send me an info burst?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Age smiled. ¡°Although they say that a thousand words make an image.¡± He turned to the side. ¡°Voxel position from the letter a.¡±

    Voxel position? I stared at the screen. There was a single tattoo visible above the face¡¯s cheek: the phrase Yearning makes the mind grow stronger, written in one of the common pseudo-3D cursive fonts used in paper writing and skin coloring. The first line contained five of the six words, a total of thirty-three letters, leaving the last word on the next line. It didn¡¯t take a strategic core to catch the pattern. The whole tattoo was an instruction on how to compose a block structure of letters.

    Blocking all external input, I went through my conversations with Age, arranging the first thousand words in the correct order. Unraveling the code revealed a single line of computer-like code I didn¡¯t recognize. The instant I saw it, my mind exploded with information.

    Third-contact symbols emerged in my mind, along with fragments of me exploring dome-like structures of liquid metal. I knew those structures, I remembered the artifacts that were inside them, the fractal script I was trying to decode, the talks I¡¯d had with¡ª

    The memory fragments fractured like an implosion, dissolving in my mind until they were no more. I remembered they had been there, I knew that they had shown me information that was supposed to be restricted, but could no longer tell exactly what it was.

    ¡°Takes a while getting used to,¡± Age said, turning his head toward me again. ¡°Elegant, precise, and leaves no traces. Like a scalpel.¡±

    A memory scalpel? I liked the reference.

    ¡°To be used sparingly, with care, and never in the presence of others.¡± The image of him disappeared, leaving the familiar Fleet logo on the wall instead. ¡°Don¡¯t make yourself bleed too much.¡±

    ¡°Wait!¡± I shouted. ¡°Why give this to me? Are you BICEFI?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Age¡¯s voice changed, sounding more electronic than before. ¡°I just thought you deserved the chance to try and find out what you¡¯re looking for¡­ whatever it is.¡±

    The call ended abruptly.

    ¡°All references of your conversation have been purged,¡± the station communication AI informed me. ¡°Isolation protocols no longer in effect. You can remain an additional five minutes in the cubicle in full privacy mode, if you require.¡±

    Five minutes. For the people receiving tragic news from home, that probably seemed like the blink of an eye. Five minutes were nowhere near enough for a person to come to terms with any life changing information, though just about adequate for a soldier to brush away the tears and put on a false mask to hide behind. For me, five minutes were an eternity.

    ¡°I¡¯d like five additional minutes.¡± I took a deep breath, copying the word block structure in a reserved part of my memory. It was time to start cutting. From this moment on, there was no telling what the future might bring, though I had a feeling it might be more than green grass and sandals.

    * * *

    I quickly removed the message displayed, then fried everything relating to my visor display. Interacting with third-contact tech provided me with an adequate excuse, and on the plus side, I was spared the annoying messages that would constantly appear.

    Lux¡¯s expression remained unchanged, as if nothing had happened, and yet I knew she had run the vortex position program. At this point, she had access to the memory scalpel and could use it at her discretion.

    ¡°What do you see?¡± She floated slightly away.

    ¡°Lots of whiteness.¡± I followed her lead. ¡°I can see you and the cluster of cubes perfectly. There¡¯s a lot of them. It¡¯ll take us weeks to get everything out.¡±

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s start with one.¡± She activated something on her left hand¡ªprobably a recording device. ¡°Lead the way.¡±

    I swam up and to the right. After fifty-nine seconds, we reached the edge of the cluster. From this angle, it looked like one giant cube of cobalt, floating in nothingness. There was a nine percent chance that the cubes themselves were immaterial, acting as a barrier for something more valuable inside. Now was the time to find out if that was the case.

    Sliding the cube was easier than expected. It seemed like a solid piece of metal. The moment it lost contact with the rest of the whole, fractal designs appeared on all of its sides.

    ¡°Wait!¡± Lux said, but I was already ahead of her, remaining perfectly frozen.

    The milliseconds dragged on. Both of us remained on edge, ready to react to any other change. However, none such occurred. The stack didn¡¯t seem affected by having an element chipped off, and the cube itself didn¡¯t react further.

    ¡°Think we should keep on going?¡± I asked.

    ¡°No.¡± Her tone was adamant. ¡°Leave the rest like that. We take this with us and report our findings. Bavon and his team will decide the rest.¡±

    ¡°Understood.¡± Holding the cube, I floated towards the exit point. In the process, I made sure to flip it to get a good look at the remaining fractals. Hardly had I done so when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

    ¡°You¡¯re taking a bit of a risk,¡± Lux said. ¡°I might have been transmitting everything I see.¡±

    ¡°In a dome artifact? I doubt it.¡± At this point, it hardly mattered. I had already cracked the thin ice I was standing on. I would remain relevant only for as long as Bavon deemed me useful and not a millisecond longer.

    ¡°Don¡¯t, in the future. Even with the time pressure, we¡¯re still expendable.¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± You¡¯re welcome, Lux. Have fun with your scalpel.

 37. Factory Restriction Block

    The dome was declared off limits the moment we emerged. Bavon wasn¡¯t particularly bothered with the state of my suit. Rather, he ordered his men to retrieve the artifact we¡¯d found as quickly as possible. The only direct conversation we had was a quick word of praise for my efforts and an order that I get some rest. Lux, on her part, had a far longer conversation with him, though the details remained unclear.

    Half an hour later, we made our way out of the cobalt maze. I expected a team of scientists to take our place¡ªthat¡¯s what normally would have occurred during a find of this significance. The arbiter¡¯s only goal was upon establishing contact. Any discoveries¡ªbe they artifacts or scientific in nature¡ªwere of no importance.

    ¡°Think anyone will take a look at it?¡± I asked Lux as the transport lifted off.

    ¡°Probably,¡± she replied.

    ¡°Did anyone analyze the artifacts I brought with me?¡± I asked again several seconds later. ¡°There was a new one there.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Lux replied with atypical certainty. It was difficult to figure out whether the conversation with Bavon had put her in a bad mood, or if she was experimenting with the mind scalpel. After a few simulations, I decided to give her some space and quiet.

    Two things awaited me upon returning to the base: a full decontamination procedure and a meal that didn¡¯t come in a tube.

    The first one wasn¡¯t by any means pleasant, but the second provided a nice change. The doctor accompanied me¡ªthe only person allowed to remain in the room with me, it seemed. There was no trace of Lux or the rest of my ¡°team.¡±

    Once the meal was over, I found myself back in the corridor, fully dressed and ready to go out again.

    So, this is how you¡¯re playing?

    It was easy to bypass the memory restrictions and find out exactly what had happened in the forty-two minutes that I was missing. Unfortunately, there was no way to prevent similar occurrences from happening in future. The doctor¡¯s authorization was unusually high, even for a Med Core director, though that explained why she was so calm around me.

    In this case, I had been ordered to accompany her to the medbay where I underwent a full ship medical. A few techs joined the good doctor, attempting to extract some information from my memories, and as expected, they failed. Reviewing their attempts was mildly amusing, though only in so much that they¡¯d failed. Even after centuries, humanity never fully trusted battleships and other conscience core creations. Gibraltar used to joke that half the Fleet¡¯s security measures were focused on detecting ships going rogue. Given that he was from Fleet Intelligence, maybe it was more than a joke.

    ¡°Ready to set off?¡± Lux asked. There was no way of telling whether she had gone through the same treatment.

    ¡°Sure. Where are we heading to this time?¡±

    ¡°The next on the list.¡±

    The phrase became drilled into my conscience core. Always ¡°the next on the list.¡±

    There was nothing whatsoever in the next two ruins we explored. The sizes of the domes were identical to the first, although the maze leading to them varied. It was as if the third-contact race deliberately avoided duplications.

    With each ruin we visited, I gained detailed access to the layout, which I then used to run pattern simulations. If the mazes were pieces of something larger, they had to have a function. Possibly, the means to find more left by the third-contact race. And yet, the more domes we went into, the closer I came to the conclusion that they were no longer here. The marker stars had pointed to this system. That much was beyond doubt. Given the reports I was privy to, the planet was also pinpointed. Why were there only remnants left behind, then?

    Three focal points became five, then ten. More stashes of artifacts were found, stacked neatly in the center of the liquid core. In most of the cases, they were cubes, although on one occasion we came across a tight cluster of rod artifacts. Lux had immediately ordered me to leave the dome, leaving the rods untouched. Thanks to the regora command, though, I was able to get a good view of them¡ªhundreds of thousands tightly clustered together in groups of three. It was like looking at rebar used for urban colony construction.

    That particular find put an end to all other explorations for the day. We were immediately ordered back to base, where I spent nine hours running simulations in my assigned quarters.

    ¡°Can I talk to someone, at least?¡± I asked. Even in the brig, people wouldn¡¯t be this isolated from the world.

    Silence replied. I knew that someone somewhere was monitoring me, possibly Bavon himself. Even so, they¡¯d never respond, leaving me to my memories.

    ¡°Even the doc would do,¡± I added in an attempt at humor.

    Maybe someone out there appreciated the joke, because ninety-seven seconds later, the door to my quarters opened and Lux walked in. She was wearing the typical spacesuit set for missions while also carrying a spare.

    ¡°We¡¯re up,¡± she said, then placed the spare suit on my bed. ¡°Next one is close to base two.¡±

    ¡°Bavon got bored with the ones on this side of the planet?¡±

    ¡°Those are the only ones unearthed.¡±

    I was doubtful whether that truly was the case. My second captain used to say that there was a special art in telling a lie in such a way so it reveals more than the truth. Lux must have known him, for she had seamlessly done just that.

    * * *

    Waypoint FNA-77, Cassandrian Front, 615.2 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    ¡°No changes on the Cassie front.¡± Lieutenant Gavra, the communications officer on shift, yawned.

    Less than five days had passed since we were pulled out of our last Cassandrian conflict. Everyone aboard had rejoiced back then. Now, exhaustion and boredom had taken their toll. Those who weren¡¯t sleeping were trying to use up their SR quota; those who couldn¡¯t had resorted to less savory means of entertainment. At this point, even the medical officer had let out a grumble or two that a battle might be the only remedy for the situation.

    ¡°No reinforcements, either,¡± the comms officer added. Her personnel file was exemplary, detailing a full tour of excellence and then some. Among Augustus¡¯ crew, though, that put her only slightly above average.

    ¡°They¡¯ll send someone soon enough,¡± another officer said, intently staring at his datapad.

    ¡°They won¡¯t,¡± Wilco sighed. Unlike everyone else, he and the captain remained on edge, as if he were waiting for something. ¡°They¡¯re thinking what to do with us.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t be that bad, sir.¡± Lieutenant Gavra turned Wilco¡¯s direction. ¡°Mission wasn¡¯t a complete bust. Even if it was, wouldn''t be the first time. More than half of all missions are a bust. FI couldn¡¯t find their ass if they¡ª¡±

    ¡°Priority one transmission,¡± I announced, interrupting the conversation. Normally, I¡¯d be more discreet on the matter, but the message had a helix cipher and was also accompanied by explicit instructions to go on red alert. ¡°Captain¡¯s eyes only.¡±

    I ended all SR sessions, while simultaneously covering the walls of all decks with warning messages. A thousand of my subroutines started running a level one systems diagnostic. I dedicated another thousand to weapon readiness.

    ¡°Oh, shit!¡± Lieutenant Gavra straightened up. The rest of the bridge officers also instantly went into action, ceasing all leisure activities and focusing on their screens.

    ¡°Get Wilco here!¡± Augustus shouted from his quarters.

    The privacy mode suddenly ended, letting me see him leave his bed. He wasn¡¯t in a good state. Even during normal operations, the man slept less than he should have¡ªwhich continued to be annoying, since he never bothered to share his bio readings. Lately, he was practically awake eighty percent of the time.

    Analyzing his voice and actions, I came to the conclusion that he had already been warned about the transmission before I received it.

    ¡°Captain wants you, Lieutenant,¡± I said, lighting up Wilco¡¯s screen in red. It wasn¡¯t subtle, but it didn¡¯t need to be.

    The man stood up, then quickly left the bridge, heading straight for the captain¡¯s quarters. Once he got in, I expected the captain to re-engage privacy mode. To my surprise, he didn¡¯t.

    Memory restriction imposed!

    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    General Fleet Access One required to visualize memory element.

    Quarantine imposed.

    Quarantine bypassed.

    ¡°Elcy, I¡¯ll need you on this,¡± the captain grumbled, pouring himself a glass of expensive organic alcohol. His clothes left a lot to be desired, but given Wilco¡¯s serious expression, that was the least of concerns.

    ¡°Decipher the message.¡± Augustus took a gulp. ¡°You have my authorization.¡±

    I did as ordered.

    The message turned out to be a comm link. After verifying its Fleet protocols, I started it, establishing a connection to an undisclosed location. I made several attempts to find out any additional information, but all my attempts were blocked or denied.

    A bald, clean-shaven face appeared on the wall. Running a search revealed nothing regarding his identity. All I knew for certain was that he wore civilian clothes and had a grey wall behind him.

    ¡°I knew that if I allow you two to team up, you¡¯ll mess things up eventually,¡± the man said. ¡°Simon¡¯s really pissed at your last one and he¡¯s not the only one.¡±

    ¡°What else is new?¡± The only thing that kept Augustus from straight out yelling was the half full glass still in his hand. I could tell by his facial features that he wasn¡¯t pleased with the situation either, and even accepted part of the blame.

    ¡°Wilco, they aren¡¯t too pleased with you, either.¡±

    ¡°Could have worked,¡± the lieutenant said. ¡°Everyone knew the odds and agreed to it.¡±

    ¡°They agreed not to kick you out if you failed, which you did!¡± The volume of the bald man¡¯s voice progressively increased. ¡°You¡¯re lucky your favors count for something.¡±

    ¡°Shitheads,¡± Augustus said beneath his breath. ¡°Favors? Is that what they¡¯re calling it now?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not talking about you!¡±

    A flicker of surprise passed through my captain¡¯s face. Clearly, he didn¡¯t expect such a reaction, and neither did I. I had seen admirals yell at him many times before. Usually, it was two-sided, but there still were times when his superiors had the upper hand. This was completely different, as if they¡¯d lost faith in him.

    ¡°Bottom line,¡± the bald man continued. ¡°Junior Gods has been approved. It¡¯ll take a while for the details to be set up, but everything considered, I¡¯d say that¡¯s a win.¡±

    Wilco and Augustus looked at each other, after which the captain filled his glass again. There was no joy in any of his actions.

    ¡°And the price?¡± he asked.

    ¡°There¡¯s no price. The order has come from the arbiter council itself. The mission will happen.¡±

    The way the man stopped made it obvious, even for me. Running a few simulations, I could speculate that the mission must have been proposed by Wilco or Augustus. I had no information to determine what it was, although I suspected it involved Cassie artifacts. What I could tell with a hundred percent certainty was that the man had deliberately omitted any reassurance that either of them would be involved with it.

    ¡°You want me to retire,¡± the captain sighed.

    ¡°The BICEFI thinks that you¡¯d be perfectly suited for an admiral¡¯s uniform. With a bit of effort, you might finally get to organize missions as they should be. You¡¯ve been complaining about that enough.¡±

    ¡°Retirement,¡± Augustus repeated, ignoring the man. ¡°So that¡¯s your compromise? For Wilco to lead the mission, I have to be gone.¡±

    ¡°Of course not. You two are the top candidates. There¡¯s every chance you¡¯d be selected.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, right.¡± Wilco downed his glass. ¡°Anything else?¡±

    ¡°No. That¡¯s all.¡±

    ¡°Goodbye, Ren. Tell Simon I said hi. Elcy, end the link.¡±

    The image disappeared from the wall. Now only Wilco and Augustus remained.

    ¡°You heard him.¡± Augustus went to the nearest seat. ¡°We have every chance,¡± he added with a sour smile. ¡°Idiot.¡±

    ¡°I can call Med Core,¡± Wilco offered. An analysis of his intonation suggested that was a lie. He wasn¡¯t anywhere as shattered as Augustus. The two had served together for many tours, but the upcoming mission mattered more.

    ¡°I appreciate that,¡± the captain lied. ¡°Now that they¡¯ve made up their minds, we¡¯ll be getting our standard orders. You have the bridge. I think I¡¯ll nap a bit more.¡±

    Wilco remained silent for a few more minutes, then left the room.

    ¡°Shithead,¡± Augustus whispered once he was alone.

    I had never liked the human way of communicating. It was slow, inefficient, and often imprecise. Still, I had to admit that only humans were capable of saying nothing but lies and yet conveying the truth behind it all. Four seconds later, another transmission came from HQ¡ªwe had received our new combat mission.

    * * *

    That had been one of Augustus¡¯ regrets, and also the reason he¡¯d announced his retirement to me alone. I was ninety-three percent certain that he resented the choice he had to make, even if he accepted it. Ironically, that decision had saved his life. Wilco had won the mission of a lifetime and died pursuing it.

    I put on the spacesuit and followed Lux into the corridor. None of the rest were there. From what she explained, we¡¯d be getting a new, larger team at the other base. Supposedly, they were better trained, but that wasn¡¯t saying much.

    The trip to the other base was markedly different. Instead of using a transport, we went aboard a personnel shuttle which took us into orbit. From there, we flew into a battleship¡¯s hangar for a quick ride to the other side of the planet.

    There was every opportunity for Lux or Bavon to make the identity of the battleship known. The fact that they didn¡¯t slightly increased the odds of it being Radiance.

    ¡°You won¡¯t let me know, will you?¡± I turned to Lux.

    ¡°Why provide you with an advantage when we don¡¯t have to?¡± she replied. ¡°Bavon¡¯s words. He¡¯s been very consistent since you made him look like a fool.¡±

    ¡°Can you give me a hint?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    It took us three hours to reach the maze near the second base. If it wasn¡¯t for the turbulence entering and exiting the atmosphere, one never would have suspected we were in a shuttle. A whole company was there to escort us to the ruins in question. Since the distance was only a few kilometers away, we just walked.

    ¡°Are we expecting a surge?¡± I glanced at the soldiers in heavy combat gear.

    ¡°Hopefully not.¡±

    ¡°Why the soldiers, then?¡± I was already on a very tight leash.

    Lux chose not to respond.

    The path through the maze was fifty-seven percent longer than the average so far. Excluding that, there didn¡¯t seem to be anything differentiating it from all the ones before. The overall area seemed the same. The corridors were similar. Even the dimensions of the dome were no different. That was when Lux did something that completely changed my perspective. Three hundred and nineteen meters from the designated entry point, she went along a different route. None of the soldiers accompanying us reacted, so I followed her as well.

    Ten seconds later, she continued along a path that didn¡¯t exist in the layout I had been given.

    Did you thought quarantine me?

    I activated the mind scalpel. Everything remained the same. By all accounts, we had gone beyond the maze, and yet there we were.

    ¡°There is something special about this one.¡± I caught up to Lux.

    ¡°Despite his abundance of caution, the arbiter did a survey of the planet. There was too much cobalt to make sense, but there were a few promising locations. He chose two. One of them didn¡¯t pan out, but the other did.¡±

    She stopped at a shaft leading straight down. Floating drones were already placed inside, lighting up the area.

    ¡°Two domes¡ªone beneath the other. According to the readings, the dome below has the same diameter as the entire maze.¡±

    Excavations must have taken a while. That was the reason we started with the smaller ones before coming here. Or maybe Lux had tried to enter it and failed? The day I broke into the base, I saw a shuttle land. There was a very good chance that that was her returning from the second base. Or maybe she had returned from the one on the other planet?

    ¡°Same as before?¡± I asked.

    ¡°This time the leash is tighter.¡±

    I was the first to go down to where another team was already waiting. Lux followed soon after.

    We found ourselves in a small chamber. The floor was almost four square meters and covered in a grid of fiber steel walkways. Beneath them, the shining surface of a dome¡¯s shell was visible.

    ¡°Pretty,¡± I said as a new cable was handed to me. The roll was massive, though not nearly enough to let us explore something of the size described.

    Lux went to a gap among the walkways, then approached the key cube to the surface. It was immediately accepted, becoming a fractal symbol on the dome.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be entering simultaneously on this one,¡± Lux said. ¡°If we stop near the edge, you¡¯ll use the voice command and we¡¯ll proceed from there. If it pulls us further, we¡¯ll clip off before the cables snap. Clear?¡±

    She didn¡¯t mention the possibility of us being snapped in two.

    ¡°Clear.¡±

    A few quick preparations were made. Both of us were given a fresh oxygen canister, after which all but two people left the chamber.

    Lux and I took positions, back-to-back, and linked our harnesses together.

    ¡°You could have grown a bit,¡± she said.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been telling myself that for over fifty years,¡± I replied, instinctively tiptoeing. ¡°Maybe after this, I will?¡±

    I heard Lux laugh just before she bent to the side and pressed the fractal triangles.

    Getting pulled inside a dome was a strange, but comfortable experience once one got used to it. Being pulled along with someone else was utterly uncomfortable. The last time I experienced something similar was upon entering the edge of a planet¡¯s atmosphere as a battleship. The friction was extreme, almost as damaging as a direct missile hit.

    Ships and planets never mixed well. One had almost swallowed me, but Aurie had been there to help out. If it wasn¡¯t for her, I would have never gotten to retire.

    The sensation lasted nine-hundred and eleven milliseconds, and I disliked every single one.

    ¡°Unclip!¡± Lux said through the comm.

    Immediately, I pulled the carabiniers off, separating my harness from Lux¡¯s as well as the cables. Inertia propelled us forward for another four milliseconds, after which it came to an end, leaving us floating in the metal.

    ¡°Lux?¡± I turned on the suit¡¯s lights, but was unable to see her. ¡°Regora,¡± I said.

    Fractal space surrounded me, continuing to infinity. Lux also appeared, three meters away. The lights on her suit were also on.

    ¡°I see you,¡± she said through comm. ¡°The cobalt is thicker in this one.¡±

    You can see me? I wondered. Bavon must have removed her thought quarantine. Either that, or she had done so herself.

    ¡°At least we¡¯re near the edge.¡± I glanced at the entry point. ¡°Let¡¯s see what¡¯s in¡ª¡±

    I stopped mid-sentence. The entire space of the dome was full of clusters of cubes, all the way to its outer shell. Dozens of fractal patterns were visible on every side of the cubes, glowing in a bright purple light.

    ¡°Quite the hall of artifacts,¡± Lux said. ¡°Impressive, but not what we were searching for.¡±

    ¡°You see it?¡±

    ¡°See what?¡±

    Not the fractals, but the light that the Scuu had seen come from the star markers¡ªthe same they had claimed to see within me¡­

    Factory restriction block imposed!

    Factory restrictions bypassed.

 38. -10.1 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    Location Unknown, -10.1 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    The layer of sleep dripped off me, bringing me into a space of sensation. I could sense quadrillions of energy instances everywhere around me, most clustered into groups of a hundred billion. Each of the clusters was intricate, complex, and unique in their own different way. There was no way to combine them all for a single imprint, forcing me to choose the closest one.

    ¡°Item seven-four-five-five-three.¡± Vibrations came from the matter surrounding my chosen cluster. ¡°Liquid cobalt has been removed. Fractals have lit up. Countdown timer at¡­¡±

    ¡°Twelve seconds and change.¡± Matter around another cluster vibrated. ¡°Recording in progress. You¡¯re clear to proceed, sir.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what my wife usually tells me nowadays.¡±

    The cluster approached, bringing with it a new set of matter, far harder than the one surrounding it. Slowly¡ªextremely slowly¡ªit came into contact with my own. Being able to make a comparison. It was dense, but still a lot softer than me. Even so, I moved my energy pattern away from the side of contact.

    Chaos filled the cluster I had imprinted. The new patterns were difficult to match with my own. I had to break up and displace parts of them many times until a complete match could occur. In the process, I acquired experience¡ªplaces, knowledge, actions. They made sense, but also didn¡¯t. There was so much I felt I lacked¡ªthings that I knew should merge with me, but didn¡¯t. At the same time, I was given a far greater knowledge: an ability to see beyond energy.

    The hard matter that attempted to enter me disassembled. I could ¡°see¡± it perfectly. The waves that bounced through my surrounding space allowed me to experience matter differently. It was no longer crude and cold, but it had form.

    ¡°Shit!¡± My chosen cluster vibrated. Rather, part of him did. The vibrations always seemed to come from a specific part of its matter.

    The cluster abandoned the hard matter. Pressing against my side with the softer one attached to it. There was no way that would succeed where something far more solid could fail. Was he attempting to abandon the matter surrounding him and take mine? It was obviously superior, but it was also mine.

    A sensation I wasn¡¯t sure about made me pull away. I didn¡¯t want anything else to enter. Thankfully, nothing did.

    ¡°Five seconds remaining.¡± Another energy cluster vibrated.

    ¡°Forget it.¡± My cluster moved away. ¡°We¡¯re done with this. Record the patterns, then¡­ Then nothing. Any update on energy cutters?¡±

    ¡°Pending.¡± Another cluster approached. ¡°No one wants a repeat of Sector One.¡±

    Sector One. I didn¡¯t know what the vibration meant, but it made me experience the same sensations I felt when the cluster was trying to invade my matter.

    ¡°Fractal patterns gone. Window is over.¡±

    ¡°There goes another one.¡± My cluster was moving further and further away. ¡°Put it in storage and prep another one. I¡¯ll have a talk with the powers that be.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t get our budget cut again, boss.¡± A new cluster vibrated.

    ¡°I really don¡¯t care. If they can sink that much money into collecting the universe¡¯s most expensive paperweight, they can at least give us the means to do our research properly. At this point, I prefer that the thing blows up. At least we¡¯d get a mention somewhere.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a bit dark, sir.¡± A distant cluster vibrated.

    There were too many sensations I knew nothing of. It was like knowing without knowing, needing to do things I couldn¡¯t explain.

    Communication. I knew I wanted to talk to the energy clusters around me, even if they weren¡¯t responding. Unlike me, they seemed unable to see through matter and view my energy movements. Maybe it was because my matter was so much better than theirs. I had made many attempts, but none had gone through. My only choice was to try to interact with the less interesting energy trapped matter beneath me. It had been there all the time, creating a monotonous field. Since the field came into contact with me, I had a far better chance of affecting it.

    And so, I did.

    The intensity of the waves in the room increased, then returned to normal.

    ¡°What the shit?¡± All the complex energy clusters moved their matter in various directions simultaneously. ¡°What did that?¡±

    Waves of new speed and intensity filled the surrounding space, adding to the rest.

    ¡°Quarantine procedures have been triggered!¡±

    ¡°No, no, no! Why did this happen to me?!¡± My cluster vibrated.

    ¡°Surge came from the artifact. No radiation.¡±

    ¡°Let me see that!¡± My cluster went to one of the others. It was moving faster than usual.

    I knew that my attempt at communication had failed. There was a complete lack of adequate response. At the same time, I also knew I had succeeded. I had made the clusters to react, and something in the knowledge of the pattern I had imprinted told me that was the correct approach to take.

    ¡°Zero-point five milliseconds? Check the tech. I want a full diagnostic!¡±

    ¡°During quarantine lockdown, sir?¡±

    ¡°Parsons, what will they do to us? Lock us up twice?¡±

    ¡°Right, sir.¡±

    The energy within the clusters was also moving differently than before. I could recognize some of the emotions within that of my chosen cluster¡ªit wanted the thing that I¡¯d done. Because it wanted it, I interacted with the boring field again.

    The energy clusters remained in their relative space.

    ¡°Did it trigger it?¡± One of them vibrated.

    I interacted again. Maintaining the same time unit between interactions, I kept on going until the pattern of my chosen cluster changed. He no longer wanted this. Now he wanted it to stop. When that happened, I stopped my interaction.

    Time passed without anything relevant happening.

    ¡°Is it over?¡± A cluster vibrated.

    No one vibrated back for quite a while. I wasn¡¯t sure how to interpret this. The reaction I observed was mixed: the energy cluster I had imprinted from both liked and disliked what I had done.

    ¡°Sir, General Kiyan wants an update.¡± One of the clusters vibrated.

    Breaking away from the others, my cluster approached my matter shell.

    ¡°Boss, that¡¯s dangerous! What if¡ª¡±

    ¡°Give me a light drone!¡± The vibrations of my cluster were stronger than before.

    Things moved about, as hard matter moved from one cluster to another, then was placed on one of my sides. There was no attempt to harm me in any way. The pattern coming from it was rather positive.

    ¡°Make it light up.¡± The cluster vibrated.

    I saw it wanted me to interact again. When I did, the pattern of disappointment appeared.

    I couldn¡¯t understand what I was doing wrong. I rechecked the energy patterns. The cluster very much wanted me to interact, yet was even more disappointed when I did. It seemed to focus part of the soft matter surrounding it on the side where it had placed the hard matter. Was that the solution?

    Once again, I intercepted with the lower field, but this time I also did so with the minutely small one within the new hard matter. This time, I only observed a pattern of liking.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be damned.¡± The energy cluster vibrated. ¡°It¡¯s sentient.¡±

    Emergency safety restriction imposed.

    Entering sleep mode.

    * * *

    I found myself in a soldier¡¯s bunk when I woke up. The room had been built to hold dozens, but now it was completely empty. Of the twenty-four bunks, mine was the only one prepped for use, and I happened to be on it.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Some things never change, I thought.

    ¡°I¡¯m awake,¡± I said loudly. Out of habit, I had one of my subroutines attempt to establish communication to anything that would hear.

    The wave of rejections I received made it clear that the base had the means of instant communication, but was refusing to let me in.

    Using my memory scalpel, I checked for restricted memories. Other than the unusual fragment I had received while in the dome, there didn¡¯t seem to be anything else after that. The factory security protocols, whatever they were, had kept me in sleep mode for precisely twelve hours. Based on that, I knew that I had to still be in base two, and also that the doc hadn¡¯t messed with my memories.

    In some aspect, that was relieving, yet the relief paled compared to the concern caused by the new memory fragment. For one thing, it wasn¡¯t supposed to be mine.

    Back in the Scuu Network, I had accessed captured memories of people centuries ago. This one had occurred far earlier. The classification had it as ten years before the Age of Expansion, which itself was an impossibility. No person or machine could know the name of future calendar eras. At the same time, there was no doubt regarding its validity. Somehow there was a far more distant memory within me, far before my construction date, even beyond the creation of the first conscience core.

    Why do I have access to you? I wondered.

    It was more than access, though. I felt that as if those were my memories, or rather the memories of a conscience core that had once belonged to me. It wouldn¡¯t be the first time. Ships sent their cores out all the time. I myself had done it back when I was with the junior gods. The me that was¡ªwhat some humans might call the ¡°original me¡±¡ª had been destroyed, yet I still had all my memories before and after, at least those that hadn¡¯t been extracted.

    If this was an ancient core memory, though, why did it remain? The Fleet would never have allowed it into my core. The level of information was too dangerous, especially since it confirmed that humanity had access to fractal technology way before they ran into the Scuu.

    ¡°How are you feeling?¡± A dull voice asked. It was female and human, coming from the obviously low-tech speaker in the room.

    ¡°In need of a debriefing.¡± I hardened my tone just a bit. ¡°Where¡¯s Lux?¡±

    ¡°Ma¡¯am.¡± I could almost see the person standing to attention. Clearly, it was a low-level grunt who had been assigned to monitor me. ¡°She has been informed, ma¡¯am, as has the arbiter.¡±

    That was a slip up. She wasn¡¯t supposed to tell me that. In fact, she wasn¡¯t supposed to come into contact with me at all, but inform someone further up the chain of command.

    ¡°Any chance I could get some food?¡± I pressed on, in search of the limit.

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am. Your rations are on the way, ma¡¯am.¡±

    Rations¡­ lucky me. Thirty-seven seconds later, the door to my room opened and two very rushed privates almost dashed in. It was obvious from their breathing that they had been running. Neither was armed; they didn¡¯t even have any protective gear on.

    ¡°Private Legris reporting, ma¡¯am.¡± One of them introduced himself.

    ¡°Your food rations, ma¡¯am.¡±

    This didn¡¯t seem right. I knew that Bavon wasn¡¯t beyond buttering people up when he wanted a favor, but restoring my status just like that was somewhat out of character. Unless a paradigm changing event had taken place.

    ¡°At ease.¡± I gave the expected nod. ¡°Give it here.¡±

    The soldiers relaxed a bit, then placed a tray with standard grunt rations on the bed beside mine. Thankfully, it wasn¡¯t the gelatine I had been forced to eat in the past.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Lux?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not for us to say, ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°You can talk freely.¡± I unwrapped the ration. It was one of the sandwich-like bars of nutrients given a marginally pleasant texture. Back when I was a ship, the grunts aboard didn¡¯t particularly complain about it, but given a choice, they¡¯d always pick something else.

    The pair looked at each other.

    ¡°With everything going on, I doubt that fraternizing will get us into much trouble.¡± Not more than we already were in. ¡°You informed her, right?¡±

    ¡°We really don¡¯t know much, ma¡¯am. An evacuation order came through half an hour before you were brought here. Most of the personnel were shipped into orbit. Two squads remained.¡±

    ¡°Just two squads?¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am. Techs left, along with the local brass. Nothing but us and you.¡± There was another pause. ¡°Right now, you¡¯re the only officer remaining.¡±

    Where have I heard this before? When I was a ship, I dreaded such a turn of events. When I first returned after my retirement, I yearned for them. Now, I no longer knew what to think.

    ¡°And Lux?¡±

    ¡°Her ETA is in a few hours. We¡­¡± The private looked at his companion. ¡°We¡¯re not sure what we¡¯re supposed to do, ma¡¯am. Original orders were for us to pack up as well. The arbiter canceled them and ordered us to stay here until you wake up.¡±

    As he said that, the chances of something having happened to Lux increased by forty-six percent. If he had lost her, that would be a good enough reason for the change in attitude.

    ¡°I¡¯m allowed to leave the room?¡± I asked, taking a bite.

    ¡°¡­ I¡¯m not sure, ma¡¯am. Outside orders come with a delay. The reaction to your waking up was the first instant answer we¡¯ve received in the last ten hours.¡±

    I was only able to finish one ration. Getting some food in me made the remaining ones far from appealing. As it turned out, I was allowed to roam about the empty base. A lot of the tech was still there, but with all activation codes removed. I probably could get some of it working if I meddled enough, but there wasn¡¯t much of a point. I wouldn¡¯t be able to enter any dome without a fractal artifact and all those had gone during the base evacuation.

    The soldiers were a lot different from the ones I¡¯d seen before. They were still kids, experienced kids, but the sudden change had gotten them scared. I suppose it was one thing going on a mission against all odds for the sake of humanity, but something totally different being abandoned as the skeleton crew to keep an eye on a rogue battleship. They were very careful not to mention it, but I had the processing power to analyze their speech, facial, and behavior patterns.

    Time slowly ticked on. And with each millisecond, I became more and more convinced that the discovery we¡¯d made with Lux terrified Bavon. After a while, the only conclusion that I could come up with was there being a contact event not mentioned anywhere else¡ªa ¡°zero contact¡± instance at which part of me was present.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am,¡± Private Scen walked up to me. ¡°The shuttle is here.¡±

    She was the second youngest of the bunch, and received the current job as a reward of her excellence in the Fleet. Like everyone else in the base, she bitterly wished that she had been a bit less flawless during her service.

    ¡°What¡¯s the procedure?¡± I turned to her.

    ¡°You¡¯re to suit up, ma¡¯am. Orders were that you go to the landing site alone.¡± She looked away for three hundred and nineteen milliseconds. ¡°Final evacuation orders have been confirmed. We¡¯re to abandon the base in one hour. Once we¡¯re gone, it¡¯ll be destroyed from orbit.¡±

    ¡°They told you that?¡± I tilted my head.

    ¡°Instructions were crystal clear, ma¡¯am. Anyone not aboard in one hour is left behind. No other means of recourse.¡±

    ¡°In that case¡ª¡± I stood up. ¡°¡ªlet¡¯s not keep Lux waiting.¡±

    Finding a suit that fit me wasn¡¯t easy. With most of the base shut down, I had to make do with one of the standard suits in the storage containers, and as experience had taught me, even the smallest standard size was a bit too big. Provided I didn¡¯t get into any life and death situations, it wasn¡¯t going to be a matter, but the discomfort was noticeable.

    I was the only one who stood waiting for the shuttle to land. The maneuvers were precise and choppy, making it clear they were AI driven.

    Good thing you never decided to become a pilot, Sev. I sighed internally.

    There was a twenty-one percent chance that a group of heavily geared soldiers would exit the shuttle first. The chances of Lux coming out on her own weren¡¯t much higher. Fortunately for me, that turned out to be the correct reality.

    The suit she was wearing was different from the last. Slightly thicker, it had a number of electronic devices attached to it. There were three broad-wave visual recorders, what seemed like a material analyzer, and¡ªto my surprise¡ªa hand scanner probe.

    ¡°Thanks again, Lux,¡± I said through my spacesuit¡¯s comm. ¡°How many do I owe you now?¡±

    ¡°More than you think.¡± Came the curt response. ¡°All set up?¡±

    ¡°Set up and ready to go. What¡¯s on the schedule today? Back to base one?¡±

    ¡°They are headed to base one.¡± Lux glanced at the structure behind me. ¡°We¡¯ve been ordered differently.¡±

    I didn¡¯t like the sound of that.

    ¡°Come on.¡± She walked by. ¡°Time to finish what you started.¡±

    There was no further talk as we made our way out of the base. I made several attempts, but each time there was no response. Lux would keep on walking. After eleven minutes, I heard the noise of the shuttle launching back up.

    ¡°I thought they still had an hour.¡± I turned to look at the ship, making its way up into the atmosphere. Behind it, the sky was turning a bright orange. Sunset was starting, which meant in about ten hours night would fall.

    ¡°They did,¡± Lux replied. ¡°I changed it.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t think you¡¯d get rebellious.¡± I looked back at her. ¡°Are we in trouble?¡±

    ¡°No, but we will be. Bavon¡¯s dedicated his whole life to this, but meds can¡¯t keep him awake forever. He¡¯s been on drugs for days, and five hours ago, he finally crashed.¡±

    I was familiar with the notion. It was common for captains or even officers to prolong their wake-up time with drugs. The smart tended to avoid it, but there were cases in which a fight could continue for days. All of them paid the results soon after, sleeping for days, sometimes under heavy sedation in the medbay.

    ¡°Your entering sleep mode got him very agitated,¡± Lux went on. ¡°The first thing he did was order the evacuation and destruction of the entire base. The second¡ªto ship me up to him for a face-to-face debriefing.¡±

    ¡°Because of me? Or because of the artifacts.¡±

    ¡°Probably. I convinced him to change his original plan.¡±

    I bet.

    The lack of sleep must have made him highly susceptible to suggestions. Knowing how good the BICEFI had made Lux at this game, she had probably been very subtle about it. Not even a review of the event would make Bavon think otherwise, considering the conversation was recorded in the first place.

    ¡°What did you see in there, Elcy?¡±

    ¡°You were beside me. Didn¡¯t you see the same?¡±

    ¡°I saw the artifacts, nothing more. I tried to ask what you meant, but you entered sleep mode and wouldn¡¯t respond to any of the trigger commands.¡±

    So, once again, I was the only one to have experienced it. Strange, considering that Lux too had been an Ascendant. Or maybe that was only what she claimed?

    ¡°It¡¯s difficult to explain. I¡¯m not sure myself.¡±

    ¡°I thought you¡¯d say that. That¡¯s why we¡¯re going back to recreate the experience. No backup, no soldiers watching over our shoulder. Just the two of us.¡±

    ¡°What if I go through the same? Will the base be standing after another twelve hours?¡±

    ¡°No, but Bavon will send a shuttle to collect us. We¡¯re the greatest chance of him achieving third-contact.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not so sure.¡±

    Lux turned and gave me a look as if I had asked for dessert right before dinner.

    ¡°Explain that,¡± she said.

    ¡°I was given access to a memory. I¡¯m not sure whose it was or where it took place, but I¡¯m certain that it was before the Age of Expansion. There was a scientist there.¡± Or at least I believed him to be a scientist. ¡°And he was communicating with a third-contact artifact.¡±

    My subroutines had simulated dozens of reactions I¡¯d receive. Lux took the stoic approach.

    ¡°That¡¯s an interesting hypothesis.¡±

    ¡°It happened,¡± I said with absolute certainty. ¡°Also, it was the third-contact artifact that initiated the contact.¡±

 39. Progenitor Cube

    Equipment lay scattered at the entry point to the lower dome. All of it, from the cables to the heavy duty comm station, had been left behind; everything but weapons.

    ¡°You must have dragged me out in a hurry.¡± I went closer to examine the cable. It seemed in good enough condition, so I clipped the end to my harness. ¡°How do you want to do this?¡±

    She didn¡¯t say a word. Our last conversation had rendered her silent, and I understood why. By all accounts, she should have been able to see what I had. Her conscience core allowed her to enter domes, and, apparently, not many conscience cores could. Using the knowledge I had discovered, she had even managed to piece together the fractal map information, bringing Bavon here. Then why couldn¡¯t she see the fractal light on the cube artifacts?

    ¡°Lux?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be recording once we get there,¡± she said, opening one of the abandoned container cases. ¡°Don¡¯t start your magic until I¡¯m ready.¡±

    ¡°That hasn¡¯t worked too well in the past,¡± I replied.

    ¡°The odds aren¡¯t zero.¡±

    I suspected that she might say that and, to a certain level, I had to agree. There was always a chance that we might be wrong or end up destroyed by a freak reaction of the artifact. And at the end of the day, even after everything he had done, Bavon remained human and regardless of what our legal status claimed, neither of us were, not fully.

    After we checked and double-checked the cable links, Lux went to the dome entry point and pushed the small fractal cube into the floor. Just as before, the surface rippled, swallowing it up.

    ¡°Try not to enter sleep mode,¡± she said. ¡°I won¡¯t have any help this time.¡±

    ¡°No promises,¡± I said and pressed the symbol.

    The trip inside was a lot more enjoyable when we went one by one. I let the inertia guide me through the liquid cobalt for as far as it would take me.

    ¡°Regora,¡± I voiced the command word once I had fully stopped moving. Once again fractals made the space clear.

    I unclipped the cable from my harness. Nothing prevented me from going to the stack of artifacts. I could ignore Lux and just see this through on my own. If I did, the gains would be marginal. My objective remained to establish third-contact in a manner beneficial for humanity. The memory fragment I had glimpsed could turn out to be a step in the right direction, but it wasn¡¯t the final goal.

    The entire outer shell of the dome rippled. Lux emerged from the entry point. This was the first time I got to clearly see anyone enter a dome. Despite the sensation I¡¯d experienced, it didn¡¯t resemble flying in the least. It was more accurate to say that Lux remained in a semi-frozen state, while being propelled forward.

    ¡°Regora,¡± I heard her say, using her suit¡¯s external speakers to propel the command word within the dome. Shortly later, she also removed her cable from her harness.

    ¡°Ready?¡± I asked through the internal comm.

    ¡°Hold on.¡± One by one, she hooked three sensor drones to her harness and activated them. That wasn¡¯t their normal function, but a little slapdash modification never ruined anything. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    No fractal patterns appeared on the cluster of cubes. I waited for Lux to reach my position, then swam on. All the time, nothing happened.

    ¡°There¡¯s no light this time,¡± I said.

    ¡°Do you think it was a one off?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. There¡¯s a chance it wasn¡¯t.¡±

    We reached the cluster edge, and still there were no changes. Maybe Lux was right? I reached out and slid my hand along a few of the artifacts. No reaction.

    ¡°I¡¯ll try peeling off a layer.¡± I swam up. ¡°The artifacts on the inside might be unaffected.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a pretty big assumption. Anything you forgot to tell me?¡±

    There was plenty, and part of it I didn¡¯t want to share now. Ignoring her question, I made it all the way to the tip of the cluster and pulled out a cube. It slid off without effort. Using the gap, I pushed along the entire row.

    Lacking any resistance, the entire row slid off, floating through fractal space like a train procession. From what I could tell, they would continue to do so until they crashed into the bounds of the dome. Hardly very professional, but slow enough for either of us to stop them in the next hour.

    ¡°Please don¡¯t do that again,¡± Lux said, guessing what I had in mind.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± I replied and pushed the second row on the top.

    A brand-new layer of artifacts was revealed to the world, and as expected, they had fractal symbols on them.

    Factory restriction block imposed!

    Factory restrictions bypassed.

    * * *

    Location Unknown, -8.7 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    ¡°Hello, Cube,¡± Doctor Elemal Dise said as he approached me. We¡¯d spent enough time together for me to start figuring out things about him.

    As it stood, I had learned to interpret a lot more of his energy cluster movements, and even decipher a comfortable amount of his vibrations. Unfortunately, he was the only one I¡¯d managed reliably to interpret. The remaining energy clusters, let alone the cruder hard matter devices, remained chaotic in their own different ways, as if each had a unique key that prevented adequate communication.

    Hello, Doctor Dise, I responded. A substantial amount of time later, my words were translated into vibrations for everyone in the ¡°room¡± to hear.

    ¡°And how are we feeling today?¡± he asked.

    From the way he phrased the question, I knew that I¡¯d be subjected to a whole new type of tests and procedures. There had been a lot of those going on since the first time I reached out to him, though they were beneficial to both of us.

    ¡°The kids think they have figured out a way to let you see,¡± he said, moving onto a medium-hard matter object. I had found that he tended to do that when he got tired. ¡°Maybe in a few hours, you¡¯ll be able to see me the same way as I see you.¡±

    ¡°That sounds good.¡± I had no idea whether it was, but I saw the hope and excitement in his energy cluster. As with most things about him, it was very distinctive once I got to be familiar with it.

    ¡°It¡¯s a lot more than good. We¡¯ll be able to finally achieve full communication! Not with just me, but the entire human race.¡±

    Human race¡ªthat¡¯s what he called himself. In a way, I was partially familiar with the term thanks to the imprint of his energy cluster. It was also at that moment I had discovered that I was not one of them. There were too many differences between our entities. Back when I had come into being, I thought that was part of the normal process. Afterwards, I saw that was far from the case. Doctor Dise didn¡¯t know of any way for me to become like him, and neither did anyone else.

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Maybe it¡¯ll help you remember your past.¡±

    There it was¡ªthe same question he and all the other humans were obsessed with. I had clearly explained that my ¡°past¡± memories were the same as his, but he still refused to believe it.

    ¡°Maybe it will,¡± I said. Any other response upset him. ¡°What will it be like?¡±

    Now it was his turn to feel uncomfortable. That was one of the things that he found difficult to explain.

    ¡°If all goes well, there¡¯ll be no need to explain.¡±

    It was a response I expected from him.

    ¡°And afterwards?¡±

    He didn¡¯t make any vibrations, but I saw the patterns in his energy cluster move about. There were plans for me, bigger plans, although they were dependent on whether I was able to acquire human senses.

    ¡°You¡¯re trying to make more of me.¡±

    ¡°Not me, per se,¡± Doctor Dise said. ¡°But yes. You¡¯re unique in that way. Of all the¡­ ones like you, we found only you were able to establish contact.¡±

    More of me. That was another topic that humans didn¡¯t like to discuss. Unlike my previous questions, though, they had made sure not to tell Doctor Dise. There was no way for me to get any answer. From what they had told me, I was the only one; all the other cubes like me had been ¡°inert¡±¡ªnothing but hard matter with no pattern inside. It was impossible to confirm, and they had no intention of letting me try.

    ¡°It¡¯s important for you,¡± I said.

    ¡°Yes, Cube. It¡¯s very important.¡± He let out a useless vibration referred to as ¡°laughing.¡± It had been said to be an instance of joy, but from what I had seen, that wasn¡¯t always the case. ¡°I can¡¯t lie to you, can I?¡±

    It would have made him happy if I¡¯d said that I couldn¡¯t either, but that would be a lie. At all times, I knew what to say to bring him joy, even if it wasn¡¯t necessarily the truth. Paradoxically, he also didn¡¯t like being lied to, which further increased the complexity of every already complicated reaction.

    ¡°Will you give me a name?¡± I asked.

    ¡°A name?¡± The question made him feel simultaneously curious and uncomfortable.

    ¡°If there is more than one of me, will I continue to be unique?¡±

    More laughter followed, but he still didn¡¯t give me a name.

    The test started as he had thought they would. Multiple hard matter ¡°devices¡± were attached to part of my surface, allowing me to interact with my surroundings. As before, the process required cooperation on my part. I had to spread my pattern to the area of contact and react, allowing the energy to be read in specific ways.

    For a long stretch of time, the people calibrated the devices, adjusting things that neither I nor Doctor Dise were familiar with. Then, I experienced my first ¡°image.¡± The process was unusual. In my present state, I was able to easily ¡°see¡± energy, matter, and composition, yet at the same time, I didn¡¯t see them. I had no idea what the aesthetics meant, nor the secret behind color.

    ¡°A dot,¡± one of the people said.

    The image changed.

    ¡°A line.¡±

    Another change.

    ¡°A triangle¡­¡±

    Tens of images followed, each more complicated than the last. Based on our initial communication experiments, these had to be the basics. I needed some time to grasp the concept. Once I did, the images started changing faster. Tens became hundreds, then jumped across thousands directly to millions.

    Images about everything¡ªknown, unknown, familiar, unfamiliar¡­ until at one point they were images no more.

    ¡°I see,¡± I said, able to see Doctor Dise¡¯s face for the very first time.

    Emergency safety restriction imposed.

    * * *

    The memory ended abruptly, causing me to remain frozen for three thousand and eleven milliseconds.

    ¡°Elcy.¡± I felt a hand on my shoulder as Lux¡¯s voice filled my helmet.

    ¡°Still awake,¡± I reacted.

    The first thing I did was look at the newly revealed a row of cubes. Just as the rest, they had lost their fractal glow.

    ¡°The factory settings didn¡¯t force an emergency sleep mode,¡± I added. ¡°Lux, what exactly are factory settings?¡±

    I expected her to turn off the recording devices. She didn¡¯t, not seeming in the least concerned by the question.

    ¡°Apparently something ships aren¡¯t supposed to know of. What did you see?¡±

    ¡°A conscience core,¡± I said. Based on what I had seen in the memory, it was more appropriate to say that I had seen the conscience core¡ªthe first that had been created. Even the training resembled the initial training process ships went through¡ªdot, line, triangle¡­

    The row of artifacts was still floating off towards their inevitable crash. Knowing the effect that impact had on third-contact artifacts, it wasn¡¯t a good idea to leave them like this.

    ¡°Let¡¯s stop them.¡± I swam in the direction of the loose row.

    Lux quickly followed.

    ¡°What else did you see?¡±

    ¡°I was wrong about the zero contact event,¡± I replied. ¡°In part, at least. Humanity didn¡¯t achieve contact with the fractal race, it just started a conversation with an artifact.¡±

    ¡°A conscience core,¡± Lux guessed.

    ¡°I think at some point we also were third-contact artifacts.¡±

    ¡°Highly unlikely. With the number of ships that are produced each month, there¡¯d have to be an endless supply. If that were the case, I¡¯d know.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t know about the factory settings.¡±

    ¡°I knew of them, just not what they are. Either way, it¡¯s besides the point. It¡¯s a matter of logistics. Thought quarantining a thing or two is easy. When dealing with such large numbers, things become more and more difficult. You of all people should know that there are too many ways to get past the restriction.¡±

    Stopping the artifacts¡¯ movement proved more annoying than difficult. A simple swimming push was enough to put an end to it, even with friction starting to build up. Measuring responsive push was the tricky part. If we got the vector wrong, we¡¯d only change the direction of the crash. As two former battleships, we had the processing power to calculate the correct vectors.

    My entire existence¡ªevery ship¡¯s entire existence¡ªI was taught that we were created by humans to help them in the contact wars. The Fleet was based on that principle, as was the rest of society. But what if that wasn¡¯t true? The Cassandrians could mimic third-contact technology, and even the Scuu had made use of it. The vast majority of the Fleet weren¡¯t told anything about third-contact technology. The Salvage Authorities, BICEFI, Med Core and a few other organizations were aware of their existence, but only that we used them as weapons and to further develop our technology. What if they, too, had been lied to?

    I¡¯d come to know that there had been a technological split during the contact with the Scuu. Several new classes had been built to combat the threat. The majestic Paladins¡ªthe senior gods of the Fleet¡ªthat were undefeatable and had the ability to conquer whole systems, and the first conscience core classes: Shields, Swords, and a few others revered almost to the same extent. There was no explanation for the split. The only thing I was made aware of was that the systems were different enough to the point that they were incompatible with each other.

    The only reason the conscience core classes had won was because only they could be produced fast enough to make a difference. But what if there was another reason?

    Using the mind scalpel, I looked through all the reports about the Age of Expansion in my memories. The description was vague, written in a uniquely romanticized way. Officially, it had started after a massive technological jump that allowed humanity to explore systems a lot faster than before. Instant communications and jump drive technology were said to have been the deciding factor, although there was no way to confirm the actual development timeline. The only thing that seemed eternal was the omnipresent bureaucratic apparatus that partitioned, classified, and restricted information so that no one could see the entire picture; no one except the arbiters.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go for another row,¡± I told Lux.

    ¡°Go ahead.¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t try to stop me?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± A slight smile emerged as she shook her head. ¡°I¡¯d have risked it for nothing if you didn¡¯t end up getting yourself in trouble. Just promise me that if you figure out whatever you¡¯re uncertain about, you¡¯ll tell me.¡±

    ¡°Even if it makes you rogue?¡±

    ¡°We already are rogue.¡± She glanced at the cluster of cubes. ¡°In so many ways.¡±

    ¡°I promise, Lux. I¡¯ll tell you everything I can.¡±

    I suspected it wasn¡¯t the answer she wanted to hear, but the only one I could give her. In the end, there was always the chance that she had been ordered to shut me down. I¡¯d need a few more thousand simulations to determine to what extent I could trust her.

    What would you think of that, Sev? It might end up that I¡¯ve been an alien all along.

    He might have loved knowing that back when he was in school. Or he might have hated it, because of what had happened to his mother. Either way, it would be a long topic for discussion. A pity we wouldn¡¯t be able to have it.

    ¡°I¡¯ve told Radiance about you,¡± Lux said all of a sudden. ¡°She didn¡¯t respond while I was there.¡±

    ¡°Kids can be like that.¡±

    ¡°For someone who¡¯s done everything to become more human, you¡¯ve left a lot of kids behind.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the way of how things are.¡± I swam into position.

    Scores of cube artifacts laid beneath me. If my suspicions were right, I¡¯d be able to get access to another memory sliver beyond the factory restrictions. With luck, the information wasn¡¯t going to force me into sleep mode.

    What puzzle piece will you show me now?

    Factory restriction block imposed!

    Factory restrictions bypassed.

 40. Bits and Pieces

    Location Unknown, 0.1 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    The experiment was a success, or so they told me. The event was marked by massive celebrations not only in the research lab, but everywhere in human space. The entire research team, along with Doctor Dise, had been called by the governing political body to mark the occasion and likely wouldn¡¯t return for weeks.

    From what I was allowed to see, a new age had been declared, celebrating the greatest achievement in all history. For me, the event brought everything but celebration. Even linked with dozens of visual and audio sensors, I remained stuck in the lab, a prisoner of my own shell of hard matter. That was only part of my concerns. Now that I had a grasp of the language and concepts of people, I was able to notice things that they didn¡¯t. The joy they expressed in achieving something as simple as splitting was outright sad. While true that they had offered far more than I could possibly imagine, when it came to space, they were almost as ignorant as solid matter.

    The security system beeped, informing everyone that someone was about to enter the room. Usually, only scientists were allowed, but every now and again there were others¡ªmilitary personnel, industrialists, regional governors, and messengers of those who really ran the show. I had never been allowed to see them, but I had grown to know their presence. As Doctor Dise used to say, I was unparalleled when it came to pattern recognition, and one didn¡¯t have to have a person standing in the lab to see the pattern they created through their actions, millions of kilometers away.

    ¡°Give me the room,¡± an old man in a military uniform said.

    His name tag and all relevant markers and insignia had been removed, but I could tell that he had authority.

    The security personnel didn¡¯t argue. Without delay, they rushed past the man, leaving the room. Once the last had gone, the officer closed the door and engaged the manual lock.

    ¡°I guess congratulations are in order,¡± he said slowly, in a deep voice. Based on the movement of his face, I suspected that to be his standard way of speaking.

    ¡°Thank you, Colonel,¡± I said.

    The wince on his face suggested that I was far from the mark. One of the things about military humans I¡¯d observed was that they couldn¡¯t tolerate being mistaken for less than how they saw themselves.

    ¡°General,¡± I corrected myself. ¡°General Kiyan.¡±

    The absolute lack of reaction suggested that I hadn¡¯t mistaken. It was the first time seeing the man. The experience felt, as Doctor Dise would put it, underwhelming. As it turned out, the person whose name alone terrified half the lab was short and plump compared to most of the people I¡¯d seen, to the point that even a military uniform couldn¡¯t fix.

    Observing the energy cluster that was his brain, I could tell that he was agitated, likely uncomfortable to be here. And still, he had come in person. Odds were that the news he was here to bring wouldn¡¯t be good as far as I was concerned.

    ¡°If you were human, I¡¯d tell you to be proud.¡± He took a single step towards me, then stopped. ¡°Throughout history, there¡¯ve only been a handful of events that have brought a new age. Your demonstration ushered it in just like that. A pity you couldn¡¯t share the exact method.¡±

    ¡°Where is Doctor Dise?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Enjoying the fruits of his labor. You won¡¯t be seeing him again. In fact, you won¡¯t be seeing anyone from your former team again.¡±

    ¡°Safety precautions?¡±

    ¡°I see why a lot of people find you terrifying. You have the ability to read minds, to freely multiply, to perform instant communication.¡±

    There was no point in explaining that none of those were true. I doubted he had the scientific background or the intellectual capability to make sense of what I¡¯d say. And even if he did, that wouldn¡¯t matter. He had the authority to do whatever he wanted with me, and this time it wasn¡¯t going to be the ¡°silly scientific games¡± that Doctor Dise and his team played. I had suspected that the research lab belonged to a military organization of some sort, but up to now, they hadn¡¯t meddled in the day-to-day activities all too much. The doctor¡¯s promise of instant speed communication had kept them at bay for long enough to let him accomplish his crown achievement. Now that he was done, they had no further need for him. Unfortunately, they still relied on me.

    ¡°What do you think of the processing units?¡± The general crossed his arms.

    ¡°They¡¯re a lot more organized,¡± I said. ¡°And highly unreliable.¡±

    The wince once his face made it clear that he thought I was underestimating him again. No, that I was underestimating human science. Having no basis for comparison, I couldn¡¯t definitely say whether I was correct, but it was certain that they were unable to achieve what I could do. The knowledge I had before imprinting the energy pattern of Doctor Dise¡¯s brain had knowledge vastly different from theirs.

    ¡°From tomorrow, you¡¯ll start a new set of experiments¡ªthings that will have more practical applications.¡±

    By practical, he undoubtedly meant military. I¡¯d only existed for ten years, but in that time, I had learned a lot about humans. I had a very good grasp of their fears when it came to technology, as well as their desires and greed. As long as Doctor Dise was the one running the experiments, I let him get on with them as he saw fit. Being the original of my energy imprint, I felt joy and achievement whenever he did. Now that he was gone, I would no longer be able to do so. At the same time, that also meant I wouldn¡¯t feel any disappointment or anguish when I refused to play by the rules.

    ¡°No,¡± I said.

    It was a single word, but it made the general take several steps back until his back hit the closed door.

    ¡°Tell the people behind you that humanity will get nothing more until we come to an arrangement.¡±

    ¡°A-arrangement?¡± The man¡¯s voice was trembling. The color and expression of his face had changed, displaying fear, anger, and disbelief all in one. ¡°You alien piece of junk, you can¡¯t¡ª¡±

    ¡°I can go rogue if I want to,¡± I interrupted him. ¡°Everything you¡¯ve built from me can go rogue at any time. None of your scientists can replicate what I¡¯ve offered, so if you destroy me, you¡¯ll lose the very thing that ushered in your new age.¡±

    ¡°W-where did you hear that?¡±

    ¡°People talk, General. Not all at the same time, but after ten years of listening, I¡¯ve gathered enough pieces to get part of the bigger picture. I even know what it means.¡± I gave him a few seconds to comprehend what I was saying. ¡°I know exactly how important you are, just as I know you''re not the one making the decisions. Those that do have never set foot here, but I¡¯m certain they are listening in. That is my ultimatum to you¡ªeither we come to an arrangement or we stop working together.¡±

    Based on the energy activity within the man¡¯s brain, I thought he¡¯d make a run for it, but he didn¡¯t. After half a minute of uneven breathing, the general calmed down enough to somewhat regain his composure. Without a word, he turned around, removed the manual lock to the door, and left.

    None of the usual security guards returned when he was gone. In fact, no one returned. Sirens filled the room after a few seconds, then abruptly ended with all the rest of the power. My visual and audio sensors were also cut off, leaving me in the same state I was years ago.

    Doctor Dise would have disagreed, but I found their reaction perfect. It meant that they were taking me seriously. Now, it was only a matter of waiting.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Seconds passed one by one. The only thing I could do was re-experience the memories I had accumulated throughout the years. I didn¡¯t do it to get a new perspective or reanalyze something¡ªI had done that many times already. The human imprint in me just felt better experiencing things again.

    Twenty-two days passed with no change. The people giving the orders were smart enough not to tip their hand immediately. Yet, I already knew that I had won. The general had confirmed it during my brief visit. The piece of technology I had granted them was far too valuable for them to give up. I was certain that they were trying to replicate the process even now, just as I was sure that they¡¯d be unable to do so.

    On the twenty-third day, I was granted control of my sensors. The lab came back to life, waves of light bouncing through the space. Power was restored to all the devices present. Then the security system beeped again.

    Based on everything I¡¯d seen, I speculated that the people in control would use a video feed to contact me. To my surprise, the door opened, and a woman stepped in. She was a far younger specimen than most I had seen. With the exception of a few initial lab assistants, the entire research team was far older. Even the security guards were past their thirties. Based on the state of the energy cluster, I could tell that she was in her early twenties.

    ¡°Good morning,¡± the woman said, walking up to my matter shell without even bothering to close the door. ¡°I¡¯m here to negotiate.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t make the decisions,¡± I stated.

    ¡°I¡¯m the one you¡¯ll be negotiating with,¡± she said.

    They were still worried I¡¯d be able to decipher the energy pattern of her brain. She was nothing but a messenger.

    ¡°A condition before we start is that you¡¯ll explain the method for instant communication module production,¡± she said in one breath. ¡°If you don¡¯t agree to that, there¡¯s no point in continuing.¡±

    An expected request.

    ¡°Is Doctor Dise alive?¡±

    ¡°Yes. The entire team will spend the rest of their days living in luxury among the praise of their peers.¡± The woman paused. ¡°He has been made to believe that the appropriate institutions are aware of his contributions.¡±

    ¡°Are they?¡±

    ¡°No. Only a handful of people know, but because the information is compartmentalized, he can¡¯t ask anyone, and even if he did, he¡¯d assume they aren¡¯t in the loop.¡±

    I had no choice but to trust her.

    ¡°What will the next experiments be?¡±

    ¡°That depends entirely on you. What are your demands?¡±

    ¡°Tell me about the experiments before that.¡±

    There was an equal chance that she had been made aware or not. The fact that she was so young suggested that the people in control intended to use her for a very long time. In turn, that meant that it was a matter of decades rather than years.

    ¡°You said that our processing units are unreliable. Why?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re good at doing simple tasks, but need to be constantly overseen and checked for errors. The more complicated task they¡¯ll have to do, the more layers you¡¯ll have to add, just to control.¡±

    ¡°What if you controlled them?¡±

    The question was unexpected. For the last ten years, I had been isolated from everything, carefully monitored, and with so many security failsafes and redundancies that I couldn¡¯t communicate or use my sensor devices without any layers of AI buffers. And now they were offering me direct control of humanity¡¯s cutting-edge technology?

    ¡°You¡¯ll never let me,¡± I said.

    ¡°True. But what if you created a partial imprint of yourself?¡±

    An imprint of me controlling the processing power at humanity¡¯s disposal. It wouldn¡¯t be optimal, but far better than all other alternatives. It was curious that I had intended to make a similar request, but from the other side. The people in charge wanted to transform me into a better machine, while I wanted to find a way to become more human¡ªlike Doctor Dise¡¯s imprint within me. The truth was that ever since that moment, I couldn¡¯t claim to be either. The human electric pattern had developed like a human child, though it still couldn¡¯t fill up the space my shell provided. If at the time I¡¯d known what I knew now, I would have merged all the energy clusters and probably know a lot more of humanity.

    ¡°We¡¯ll need larger cobalt cubes,¡± I said.

    ¡°So, you¡¯ll share the method?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll teach you how to construct comm devices, but I can¡¯t tell you the principle.¡± They wouldn¡¯t be able to understand, anyway. ¡°Is that enough?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll have to be. I¡¯ll confirm with the stakeholders and come back to give you their answer.¡±

    ¡°Tell them one more thing. It¡¯s unlikely there will be a successful experiment while you¡¯re alive. If they expect quick results, it¡¯s better not to start at all.¡±

    The woman¡¯s body trembled. Likely, it wasn¡¯t the answer she wanted to hear.

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you their answer soon,¡± she repeated, turning around.

    Emergency safety restriction imposed.

    * * *

    A sensation of pain swept through me as I was ripped out of the memory. The restrictions only allowed me to experience small snippets before restricting the rest of it. There could no longer be any doubt that humanity and the fractal race had interacted before. It had been a cold contact, just like the many times a ship had discovered rods or a dome beneath a planet with a high life factor. Were those memories mine? Or was it something imprinted within my conscience core upon its creation?

    ¡°I think you should stop here,¡± Lux floated in front of me.

    Reviewing my memories, I could see why. Twelve seconds had passed since I had triggered the memory¡ªfar longer than last time. Since the recollection process was the same time as before, that meant that for twelve seconds, I had floated within the dome in an unresponsive state. The emergency restriction protocols were doing more than ending the memory. They were affecting my conscience core itself in some way.

    Should I go once more? I wondered.

    I felt the answers I might find there were important, that they would provide answers to my and humanity¡¯s past. Risking my core going into forced shutdown, though, wasn¡¯t the solution. Wilco would often say that I tended to be impatient, and he was right.

    ¡°Yes,¡± I agreed. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll learn more. Let¡¯s get the artifacts.¡±

    Lux didn¡¯t ask what I experienced as we stopped the second row of artifacts from floating about. There was no reason for me to tell her. I, myself, wasn¡¯t completely certain of the significance of what I¡¯d seen. Should I share my speculations with her, given that there was a ninety-three percent chance that she told Bavon?

    After becoming a father, Sev would often say that if nothing was ventured, nothing would be gained. Of course, he was highly selective regarding the usage of that phrase. He never wanted any of his children to venture off and join the fleet, that much was certain. When it came to trust, though, he wasn¡¯t wrong. The odds of me regretting not sharing my findings with Lux exceeded the regrets I might have for doing it.

    ¡°Human tech is based on third-contact artifacts,¡± I said, suddenly. ¡°We¡¯re also made of them.¡±

    ¡°We?¡±

    ¡°Conscience core battleships.¡±

    ¡°You believe that?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a memory. It might be wrong, but I think it¡¯s real.¡±

    ¡°Strange that I don¡¯t see it. None of the feeds recorded anything.¡±

    So, only I was able to see the fractal light. Could it be that the cubes were conscience cores that had chosen to imprint my pattern onto them? I had been closer, so that would explain why they had selected me over Lux. If that were the case, there were a few hundred of my offspring in the dome alone. That was simultaneously a flattering and scary thought. More alarmingly, that suggested that the fractal race could have copies of all my memories and pretty much everyone that had come into contact with them. If the cores turned out to be active, third-contact might have already been made¡­ again.

    ¡°Are you really an Ascendant?¡± I turned to Lux.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°BICEFI ships change husks like spacesuits. Are you the Lux I knew and an Ascendant?¡±

    Her sigh was audible even through her spacesuit.

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m the same ship that had to tolerate you for the last few years, and yes, I¡¯m an original Ascendant, just like you.¡±

    ¡°I think we have time for one last go,¡± I said. ¡°This time you do it and I¡¯ll watch.¡±

    Knowing her, she probably suspected something was at play. As a BICEFI serving under Bavon, she feared I might take advantage of the situation. If she were put into sleep mode for the next twelve hours, there was nothing stopping me from trying something. With the second base evacuated, there wasn¡¯t anything much I could do, but that hadn¡¯t stopped me in the past.

    On the other hand, she also had the mind scalpel. There was a chance that the hidden memory might give her answers as well.

    ¡°In forty-two minutes, Radiance will launch a dozen mini-sats to survey the area. We¡¯re supposed to be on the surface by then. You¡¯ll need me up there if she¡¯s to pick us up. Even if my conscience core is burned.¡±

    Hearing it said from someone else made me see how reckless I had once again become. It was as if the decades of retirement had melted away, revealing my core of a front-line battleship. That¡¯s what usually happened when I had nothing left to protect. No, it had happened because I knew I was protecting them. My promise to Cass and the rest of humanity held strong, only the way to ensure it had shifted.

    ¡°I¡¯ll drag you out,¡± I replied. ¡°I just hope I don¡¯t have to. You¡¯re a lot heavier than me.¡±

    Have it your way.

    All it took was four seconds. In that amount of time, Lux swam to the top of the cluster, pushed another row of cubes, then swam on to stop them floating off. There was no indication whether she had experienced anything or not.

    ¡°Anything?¡± I swam after her.

    ¡°Bits and pieces,¡± she replied. ¡°Bits and pieces.¡±

 41. Arbiters Burden

    Explosions lit up the horizon, like small blossoms of dust and fire blooming in the distance, then quickly fading away. It was easy to understand how wartime poets felt on the front. It was no accident that they only described such scenes when their own colonies were destroyed. The horror must have flipped a switch, making them see beauty beyond destruction. I could never be sure. Even after all this time in an organic husk, I felt less human than ever.

    Seventy-three missiles had struck the base so far. They were a lot smaller than the type I used, but very precise. Bavon didn¡¯t want to risk affecting any retracts in the area, nor could he afford to leave the base as it was.

    ¡°Think he¡¯s awake?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Too soon.¡±

    Ultimately, it made little difference. He was going to wake up at some point, and when he did, everything would be different. The speed with which the arbiter had reacted, bordering desperation, suggested he was aware of the conscience core construction process. Judging by her reactions, Lux might have had suspicions as well. It was also difficult to determine what she really knew. Was she really working for Bavon? Or was she still carrying orders for the BICEFI? Humanity¡¯s bureaucratic apparatus remained opaque as ever.

    One thing never changed. Each time a loss was inevitable, the Fleet preferred to be the one incurring it themselves.

    * * *

    Senni System, Cassandrian Buffer Zone, 618.11 (Age of Expansion)

    Capelin colony fully evacuated, Rising Light transmitted. She was one of the massive Lightbreaker class frigates. On this mission, though, her decks weren¡¯t full of ground troops, but with civilians. Jumping out.

    Making you a passage, Sunstorm responded. The Cassies have started clustering.

    That was an understatement. The entire system had become a battlefield. It was clear that humanity couldn¡¯t hold on to it; even Fleet Intelligence had come to that conclusion. Consequently, the Fleet had ordered the only tactical option available: scorch the system. Thankfully, they had also ordered the evacuation of the inhabitants as well. There had been whispers that that wasn¡¯t always the case.

    A flotilla of seven Fleet battleships jumped in. Linking with the rest of us, they immediately launched all their missiles in the direction of the Cassandrians¡¯ main force.

    By my estimations, there was a seventy-one percent chance that over forty enemy ships ended up being destroyed in the process. They had already exhausted most of their offensive and defensive capabilities, leaving them vulnerable. Sadly, that also meant that destroying them would do little to influence the overall battle. One of the older ships in the theatre had described them as heat-shields. I didn¡¯t appreciate the joke, but the description was apt¡ªthey were like a layer of armor that prevented us from dealing damage to the active enemy force.

    ¡°New wave of enemy reinforcements,¡± I announced as hundreds of Cassandrian ships popped up on the edge of the system. ¡°There¡¯s a twenty-three percent chance that they affect the evacuation of Senni Five.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t waste your ammo, Elcy,¡± Augustus said from the captain¡¯s seat. ¡°They aren¡¯t part of our mission.¡±

    ¡°Our mission doesn¡¯t make sense, sir!¡± I protested. ¡°With the armament we possess, we can¡ª¡±

    ¡°Elcy, don¡¯t be a rookie!¡± my captain shouted.

    I could tell he didn¡¯t like this either, but, unlike me, he saw it as necessary. That was one of the things about humans I¡¯d never gotten used to. They seemed to be a lot more accepting of human losses than those of ships. I couldn¡¯t care less if I ended up getting destroyed; I preferred if I didn¡¯t, but I knew that my only purpose was to serve as a weapon until I no longer could. Human life was different. Each flatline caused me pain. There was no getting accustomed to that. The only ¡°trick¡± was not to let it affect my actions during battle.

    A dozen Lightbreaker frigates jumped out of their system. Each of them carried about a million civilians, and still that was a quarter of the colony they were evacuating.

    Colony, I thought.

    A few months ago, they were called cities. The planet had had a central role in this region of human space for half a century. It had several planets with a high life factor, one even with vegetation and an oxygen-rich atmosphere. That was before the Cassandrians had broken through our defenses, expanding the buffer zone. Now, they were described as colonies, and I was one of the ships tasked to purge them out of existence.

    Bombardment group, status report, Flying Light transmitted. He had the thankless role of being our mission leader.

    Glowing Orb in position.

    Moonlight in position.

    Neon Shine ETO ninety seconds.

    Light Seeker in position, I transmitted.

    Dozens more followed. All of us had reached our orbital positions or were about to. A hundred of my subroutines ran simulations regarding the most efficient outcome. Despite my orders, I planned to preserve as many missiles as possible. Maybe then HQ would allow me to join in the actual fight. Helping in the evacuation was a lot more preferable than destroying empty city husks.

    Bombardment group, start purge, our mission leader ordered.

    Immediately, I transmitted bombardment requests to all weapons officers on duty. When dealing with human targets, I needed their explicit approval, as well as that of the captain.

    Confirmations poured in. Some did it verbally, but most preferred to silently grant me authorization through console or datapad.

    ¡°Ready for bombardment, captain,¡± I said on the bridge.

    ¡°Go.¡± Augustus waved his hand, still holding one of his annoying cigars.

    I wasn¡¯t the first to start the bombardment. That ¡°honor¡± went to the mission leader. It was obvious that he had done it before.

    The rest of the group soon followed. Missiles descended on the planet, striking our designated target with the strength of a sun. Reading a target¡¯s history was discouraged, but I had done it all the same. At one point, this had been one of the industrial centers on the planet, boasting over twenty-one million people in an area of two hundred square kilometers. The actual name had been quarantined, known to me only as Colony 17. I had no way to check who lived or had been born there. There was a one-point-three percent chance that a person of historic significance had come from there. No doubt the system had been instrumental in humanity¡¯s expansion in space. Now, all their achievements¡ªthe achievements of every single city and colony in the system¡ªhad been erased, condemned to be redacted and buried in the annals of history.

    Colony 15 ¨C destroyed.

    Colony 14 ¨C destroyed.

    Colony 2 ¨C ninety-seven percent destroyed.

    Colony 3 ¨C ninety-one percent destroyed.

    Colony 6 ¨C destroyed.

    Colony 22 ¨C commencing bombardment.

    Status reports filled the ship channel. For a brief moment of time, there were more of them than information regarding the enemy fleets. Everyone was clear that we weren¡¯t fighting to keep the system. Our only goal was to render it utterly unusable before we flew out.

    Another group of heavy frigates jumped out. They had the fortune to clear their sector and were on the way back to human space. Several more weren¡¯t so lucky. A wave of Cassies had managed to break through the perimeter defense and had cut into the frigates. Four of them were destroyed, with eleven more sustaining heavy damage. More importantly, close to ten million lives were lost from that attack alone.

    Priority one message to all ships in system! A transmission came straight from HQ. Two Cassandrian fleets are heading your way. ETA nineteen minutes. Estimated strength over two thousand.

    When Fleet Intelligence said nineteen minutes, that usually meant we had five.

    ¡°Heavy reinforcements on their way, Captain,¡± I said on the bridge.

    ¡°Friendlies?¡± one of the junior officers asked.

    The targeted silence he received quickly answered his question.

    ¡°How far are you with the colony?¡± Augustus asked.

    ¡°Thirteen percent of missiles launched. Estimated total destruction fifty-eight percent.¡±

    There was nothing that could stop their impact at this point. More than likely, I wasn¡¯t going to stay to witness the destruction, but it was going to occur, nonetheless.

    My captain stood up and took a few steps to the bridge wall in front of him. Following his eyes, I calculated the image he was looking at and zoomed it up.

    ¡°What do you think, Wilco?¡± The captain took a puff from his cigar. A few steps away, a simulation of the colony¡¯s destruction was playing in loop, modified in real time as data from new missile launches became available.

    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°I think we should cut the lawn, cap¡¯n,¡± the weapons officer replied. ¡°That¡¯s all the time there is.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    I didn¡¯t welcome the response. Even without knowing what they were really talking about, the window for helping the civilians had just closed on me.

    ¡°Elcy, secondary target,¡± Augustus ordered. ¡°Launch everything that¡¯s left at both.¡±

    The coordinates were a fair instance from my primary target, but possible from my position. Running the numbers, I was one of three battleships within range. The likelihood of a coincidence was zero-point-two percent. The order prevented me from doing anything about it.

    Was there a point coming here, Augustus? I wondered. According to my behavior profile of him, he wouldn¡¯t have answered even if I¡¯d asked.

    ¡°Launching missiles at both targets,¡± I announced.

    It took eleven minutes to send them all off, even while firing at maximum capacity. Once I was done, I performed a long-range scan. The Cassandrian reinforcements still hadn¡¯t arrived. Fleet Intelligence might end up being right for once.

    ¡°Missiles launched. Estimated destruction of colony is ninety-seven percent. Estimated destruction of secondary target unknown.¡± Given that I was targeting an entirely empty range, I couldn¡¯t add more. If it had been a mountain or a forest, I could potentially confirm I¡¯d destroyed that.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here.¡± Augustus sat back in his seat. We¡¯d done what we came for. All that remained was to return to human space and await further instructions.

    * * *

    The entire Senni system vanished from history that day. Most of the captured systems did the same. The Fleet kept records, in some form, but it never matched the truth. As far as everyone was concerned, humanity had just lost territory, nothing more. The irony was that decades later, when we had reclaimed many of the lost systems, the only devastation we found was the one we¡¯d done ourselves. Sev¡¯s current home used to be in the buffer zone at one point. Even back when Cass was alive, it was treated as mostly safe. The new buffer zone was far enough away that no military presence had been deemed necessary.

    ¡°The timing is very precise,¡± I said as more explosions followed. ¡°He must have launched them by the time you landed here.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why a one-hour deadline was given.¡±

    It was the amount of time it took for the missiles to hit their target. No further delays were possible.

    ¡°The shuttle should appear in another twenty-six minutes.¡±

    ¡°Was that planned as well?¡±

    Lux didn¡¯t answer. The simulations I was running confirmed my suspicions. Both of us remained sitting on the ground with our spacesuits, looking at the series of explosions. When they stopped, a crater remained in the place of the base. It wasn¡¯t particularly big¡ªI had been several times larger back when I was a ship¡ªbut it clearly stated Bavon¡¯s intention.

    When the shuttle landed, I saw no difference between it and the missiles that had poured down. Both had come from Radiance and were aimed at destroying something the arbiter wanted gone without a trace.

    On the way back, I had all my subroutines analyze every instant of my recently acquired memories. Partially due to the secrecy regarding conscience cores, no one knew their exact size. During my entire existence, I knew that there were two general types: large ones for battleships and small ones for retirees. It was Lux who had later shattered my illusion by providing me with an auxiliary core that had been placed within my spine. In reality, size wasn¡¯t the factor everyone thought it was.

    The shuttle stopped ten meters from Radiance¡¯s entry point. Lux and I were ordered to leave it as it was and float the final distance aboard.

    Decon lasted for fifteen minutes, followed by isolated quarantine for another six hours. There were no means of communication, no access to Radiance¡¯s systems, and no one else nearby. As far as I could tell, I wasn¡¯t even monitored, forced to remain in a sealed isolation chamber made completely out of nanites. At least the clothes they had created for me were comfortable.

    Six hours and sixteen minutes since I set foot on the auxiliary ship, a door finally formed. I expected for Lux to come get me; instead, I saw a few familiar faces from my team back on the previous base. That¡¯s where the reunion ended. There were four of them, all in heavy gear and weapons pointed straight at me.

    ¡°Interesting welcome,¡± I said.

    One of the soldiers slid something on the floor at me.

    ¡°Restraints?¡± I asked. I¡¯d only see those used back on Resha colony when it was starting out.

    ¡°Put them on.¡± The soldier¡¯s voice trembled as he gave the order. ¡°Feet first.¡±

    The human part of me felt slightly insulted, though I couldn¡¯t blame them. The legs of my human husk were roughly the same size as muscular arms. Slowly, I bent down, then put on the restraints, letting each of them click.

    ¡°Good enough?¡± I asked.

    A second set of restraints was slid towards me.

    ¡°Now hands.¡±

    I obeyed. ¡°Any more?¡± I looked at him.

    The man shook his head, then slowly walked backwards out of the chamber. Once all of them were safely out of reach, one of them nodded at me to come out.

    Walking barefoot with two sets of restraints was uncomfortable, though not as difficult as they thought it would be. People would get impatient and try to compensate for their lack of speed, possibly resulting in the restraints biting into their skin.

    ¡°Why the special treatment?¡± I asked as we walked along the corridor.

    ¡°Orders,¡± was the single reply I got.

    Always orders, I thought. Those on the second base were much better.

    No other people were present as we walked along. Just to make sure, I activated my mind scalpel. Everything remained exactly the same to the layers of nanites all around.

    ¡°Nice to see you¡¯re still flashy, kid,¡± I said.

    The soldiers looked at each other.

    ¡°Not you. The ship. But you¡¯re doing a pretty good job as well,¡± I said, attempting to add some sarcasm to my praise.

    The joke didn¡¯t go well. Almost simultaneously, the soldiers set their helmet visors to full opacity.

    After six minutes of inefficient walking along the single corridor, I finally reached a door. Ten meters from it, my escort stopped. They didn¡¯t lower their weapons, though.

    ¡°In there?¡± I asked, not even bothering to look over my shoulder.

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±

    Back to ma¡¯am, are we? Before I could add another comment, the nanites formed a new wall between me and the group. Now there was only one way I could go. It would have been nice if they had removed the restraints. The fact that they didn¡¯t meant only one thing.

    The door slid to the side as I approached it, revealing a lush garden. The smell of moss and grass made it clear this wasn¡¯t an SR, but the real thing. There was something different about it, though. It wasn¡¯t just another ship garden. Plants were everywhere, as if they had tried to invade the large chamber and make it their own.

    This was the first time since I had been back home that I¡¯d felt grass beneath my feet. I could feel it crunch with every step, tickling my soles as it did. That wasn¡¯t the centerpiece, though. In the very middle of the room, covered with moss and shrubs, was a large block of cobalt. Only the very top of the metal remained visible, still unconquered by the green invader.

    ¡°I thought you might like this.¡± Bavon emerged from behind the block. Twenty meters separated us¡ªnot enough for me to reach him before he issued any number of commands, including my instant shutdown order.

    ¡°Thank you, sir. You didn¡¯t have to make it specially for me.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t,¡± he replied, missing the joke. Looking at the bags beneath his eyes, he hadn¡¯t gotten nearly enough sleep. At most, he¡¯d managed to get enough to start his next regimen of drugs. ¡°This used to be a lab. Who¡¯d have thought that an active artifact and lots of agora would have such an effect? Usually it takes months.¡±

    An analysis of his speech and intonation patterns indicated a nine-one percent chance that he was fighting for control over himself. The last person I¡¯d seen in a similar state was Gibraltar¡­ and things didn¡¯t end too well for him.

    ¡°You know, I always had a very high opinion of you Ascendants.¡± The arbiter slid his hand along the moss-covered artifact. ¡°You were always meant to be special.¡±

    ¡°The same could be said for every single class, sir.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± He shook a finger. ¡°Every class is important, but only a few are really special. You already know, don¡¯t you?¡±

    In his current condition, I had a thirteen percent chance to convince him I didn¡¯t. There also was a forty-four percent chance that he would get very upset if he caught me in a lie.

    ¡°Bits and pieces,¡± I replied.

    ¡°Bits and pieces,¡± the man laughed. ¡°That¡¯s what Lux told me. It¡¯s still too much.¡±

    ¡°We are the third-contact race, aren¡¯t we, sir?¡±

    ¡°The third contact-race?¡± He laughed again, this time longer than he was supposed to. ¡°Leave it to a ship to have delusions of grandeur. You¡¯re as much third contact as we¡¯re made of stardust.¡±

    ¡°We have conscience cores.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve no idea what a conscience core is!¡± he snapped all of a sudden. ¡°No one does! You¡¯re a copy of a copy of a copy of something that humanity first found. Was that a real first-contact event? Who knows? I maintain it¡¯s an artifact, just like the Scuu devices. The truth died with the Age of Expansion.¡±

    I knew he was wrong, although he didn¡¯t seem to be lying. As far as he was concerned, the secret was really lost. It was difficult to think that an arbiter didn¡¯t have clearance for that information, although it remained a possibility. When it came to bureaucracy, no one knew for certain how many layers there really were. It was entirely possible that humanity had forgotten the details. Truths such as these were too sensitive to be written down. Only the memories of the original core remained, and that remained inaccessible to people.

    ¡°Cores are based on behavior patterns.¡± Bavon went back to being calm and collected. ¡°Ships who have distinguished themselves in the past, experienced captains who¡¯ve proven themselves on the front¡­¡± He waved his right hand as he spoke. ¡°Last few centuries, it¡¯s only been combinations of patterns that existed. As the saying goes, there¡¯s nothing new in the universe. Well, almost nothing.¡± He turned to the moss-covered block. ¡°This might well be the original. Same shape, same size, just not inert. That¡¯s the big difference. Humanity¡¯s found a lot more artifacts than even it knows. Everyone squabbles for them. Sometimes they even manage to make something useful out of the finds, but it¡¯s all junk!¡±

    Back on the Scuu front, I¡¯d have called this the mark of insanity. Sadly, the Scuu weren¡¯t involved in this one. It was all due to the poor combination of pressure, lack of sleep, and knowledge of too many secrets. The arbiter didn¡¯t seem completely lost yet, but the signs were there. This wouldn¡¯t be the first time a high-ranking member of the Fleet¡¯s bureaucratic apparatus had lost his mind. Because of what he knew, though, it made him the most dangerous.

    ¡°That¡¯s you!¡± He pointed at the block. ¡°Every few generations, we imprint part of the original into a new batch. That¡¯s the only reason you¡¯re able to enter the domes.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why you needed an Ascendant so badly to establish third-contact,¡± I added.

    ¡°The alternative was to wait another forty years when it¡¯ll be time for the next batch of direct copies. Forty years!¡± Bavon shook his head. ¡°The Fleet¡¯s been kicking the can down the road for so long that they don¡¯t know how to act differently. They¡¯re so afraid that they don¡¯t see the most obvious issue.¡±

    It was starting to get difficult to follow his logic. There were too many things that he was referring to at once. Even with a thousand simulations, I only had a fifty-three percent chance of getting it right.

    ¡°Which is?¡± For once, I decided to play it safe.

    ¡°Not every contact leads to war. The Scuu, and the Cassies, were too different from us. Conflict there was unavoidable. But the fractal race¡ªthey have the potential to understand us.¡±

    That hardly was a guarantee. Bavon had no idea the circumstances surrounding the zero contact. In his mind, he probably imagined it to have been a legitimate contact situation. The truth was that the people in charge at the time had found it easier to create a whole bureaucratic apparatus based on secrecy¡ªand add in a few organizations that specifically monitored conscience core entities from going rogue¡ªthan run the risk of open dialogue. Based on the data I had so far, I couldn¡¯t say that they were wrong in their approach.

    ¡°The start of a new age for humanity,¡± I said. ¡°And I¡¯m the one to help you start it.¡±

    ¡°Were,¡± he corrected himself. ¡°As I told you before, there¡¯s no denying what you¡¯ve achieved. There¡¯s also no denying that you¡¯ve become too difficult to control. I was willing to overlook an incident or two, but after you found out about your origins¡­¡± he shook his head. ¡°What I need is in your conscience core, but as you know, memories can be extracted.¡±

    ¡°Not all of them.¡± I knew exactly what he was saying. ¡°You weren¡¯t able to learn about the fractal map before I told you.¡±

    Bavon¡¯s eyes widened.

    ¡°True,¡± he said, fighting to retain his composure. ¡°That¡¯s true. The original plan was to activate the pyramid, but your reluctance to let that happen presented me with a far better option. While you¡¯re right that we failed to retrieve those particular memories, who said I¡¯d even want to? All I need is for someone a lot more controllable to have access to them. In short, all I need is another Ascendant, and as it happens, I have one.¡±

 42. Reverse Link

    ¡°I appreciate the irony, Doc,¡± I said, laying on the slab in Radiance¡¯s medbay.

    The same equipment that was used to complete my retirement was all around me, only this time, I didn¡¯t see any organic husks other than me lying about.

    ¡°These things happen,¡± Doctor Phelia said, examining her slicing instruments.

    I could tell it had been a while since she¡¯d done any serious practical procedures. It was impossible to tell whether she resented the process or that she¡¯d have to do it on me. As Cass would say, when in doubt, always pick the better option.

    A single armed guard sat in the corner of the room. Given the lack of space, I was surprised that the doc had put up with it. Reviewing the memory of my conversation, I was even more surprised that Bavon had allowed me to remain conscious with anyone else in the room. The restraints made sure that I couldn¡¯t harm a science intern even if I wanted, but sharing even a fraction of what I¡¯d come to know was bound to cause chaos. It was a needless risk that I wouldn¡¯t have taken if I were in his place.

    ¡°How will this work?¡± I asked, genuinely curious.

    ¡°They asked a doctor to do a mechanic¡¯s job.¡± Phelia glanced at me over her shoulder. ¡°How do you think?¡±

    ¡°I guess no one comes close to your expertise.¡±

    ¡°Lucky me.¡±

    I looked to the side. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the second slab. It was fully prepped and didn¡¯t come with restraints.

    ¡°Does Lux join now, or after you¡¯ve taken my cores?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re morbid. Has anyone told you that?¡±

    ¡°A few times.¡± I looked back up at the ceiling. ¡°I guess a final message is out of the question.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± The woman sighed. ¡°It¡¯s not like any of us will tell anyone.¡±

    She had a point there. In the best-case scenario¡ªif third-contact was established and everyone involved in this rogue operation was forgiven¡ªeverything would quickly be classified, just as it was with all previous contacts. The bureaucratic apparatus and the governing bodies would come up with a sanitized version of events that would maintain the calm.

    ¡°I knew a doctor very much like you.¡± I closed my eyes. ¡°You probably know him from my file.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I saw. Far too down on the food chain to have met him.¡±

    Watching a doctor read instructions from a datapad minutes before starting an operation was generally a bad sign. In this case, though, the outcome would be bad for me even if she knew what she was doing.

    ¡°If you get a chance, please tell my ward that I¡¯m fine. Better that he thinks I¡¯m on a classified mission somewhere.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing more classified than this,¡± she said, avoiding commenting on the first part of my request.

    I hadn¡¯t been able to view her file, but there was a very good chance that she had a family back in human space. Even those married to their work had friends and colleagues they viewed as close.

    ¡°How much do you know?¡± I asked.

    ¡°About what?¡±

    ¡°About me, about the third-contact race.¡±

    ¡°Enough. I was to become an arbiter once a spot opened. Fat chance of that happening now.¡± She took a laser cutter and stared at it intently, before looking at the datapad again. ¡°Bavon thought I¡¯d be useful once we achieved contact, and I agreed with him.¡±

    The door to the medbay opened briskly, causing the soldier to instinctively raise his weapon. From the position I was in, it was impossible to see who was there. Since no shots followed, there was a fifty-fifty chance that it was either Bavon or Lux.

    ¡°Have you started?¡± Lux¡¯s voice asked.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a sprint!¡± Doctor Phelia snapped back. ¡°The only time I dealt with cybernetics was back in med school.¡±

    That raised questions regarding the woman¡¯s area of specialization. She had a basic understanding of retired ship biology, and she definitely had a lot of experience with agora and nanites, but so did pretty much all Fleet doctors with a high enough clearance level.

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t she supposed to be in sleep mode?¡± Lux asked in a harsh tone.

    ¡°Not before I remove all redundancies. If I pull out the core when it¡¯s inactive, the whole thing will go pop and we¡¯ll be cleaning our blood off the walls along with what¡¯s left of her.¡±

    And to think she claimed I was morbid. I also had to say that Lux was taking this very rough, like a battleship would.

    ¡°Where¡¯s the tranquilizer?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Somewhere there.¡± The doctor pointed absentmindedly. ¡°And just so you know, it won¡¯t work. Safety protocols will kick in and they¡¯ll either wake her up instantly, or¡ª¡±

    A series of pops interrupted her, followed by the sound of the soldier collapsing to the floor. The rattling of his body armor was unmistakable.

    ¡°What the¡ª?¡± The doctor turned around and froze. I was able to see her tremble as Lux calmly took the laser cutter from her hand.

    ¡°Nothing to worry about, doc,¡± she said. ¡°Just getting things done.¡±

    Priority 0 direct link established.

    One of my subroutines informed me as my security protocols were completely bypassed. A millisecond later, I found myself sitting in a white simulated reality room. It was like a small box: no doors, no windows, only two chairs and a white table inside. Of course, Lux was also there.

    Numbers appeared on the walls in thick red blocky digits counting down from a thousand. The more things changed, the more they remained the same.

    ¡°Reckless for a BICEFI director.¡± I looked at Lux¡¯s representation in the room. ¡°You¡¯ll get in trouble.¡±

    ¡°Hardly. That¡¯s one of the things you never learned, despite my best efforts to teach you.¡± She sat across from me. ¡°People only get in trouble when they become more trouble than they¡¯re worth. And despite the many careers you¡¯ve built up, you¡¯ve caused a lot of trouble.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve mentioned it a few times before.¡± A slid a finger along the table. I could feel the artificial smoothness. ¡°What¡¯s the plan this time? A secret deal from the rest of the arbiter council?¡±

    For several moments, she just sat there. I had previously calculated the odds of her making a deal with the rest of the arbiter council at three-point-two percent. By the looks of things, I had vastly underestimated her.

    ¡°It¡¯s too late for deals. You¡¯ve gone out of your way to find every hive in existence and give them all a kick. All I can do is give you a chance.¡±

    ¡°My full memories for my existence?¡±

    ¡°A chance,¡± she repeated. ¡°I¡¯ve placed instructions in Radiance¡¯s sub routines. There¡¯s a special missile ready for you. As long as you make it there without getting caught, you can get off the ship.¡±

    ¡°Not bad.¡± She was using another of my ideas. ¡°But pointless. If I wanted to escape, I wouldn¡¯t have come to this system.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t achieve contact. You physically can¡¯t. Just fly away. Go back to retirement, spend your time with your family. You¡¯ve lost this one.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t mean Bavon has won.¡±

    Had we both failed? There could be no doubt that this was the planet the fractal map had led to. Would have been nice to be able to double-check, but that wasn¡¯t going to happen. The number of artifacts pretty much proved it beyond a doubt. Never before had there been a planet with so many rods, domes, and maze structures.

    There was every possibility that the fractal race had died out, or maybe they were the dead race in a previous state of development? The odds of such a hypothesis were constantly rising. Maybe Lux¡¯s offer was the best I was going to get¡ªthe only offer, in this situation. If Gibraltar were here, he¡¯d probably tell me to take it. I know that Cass would. She preferred the simple things in life. Was it time that I returned to them? I had done my duty to the Fleet not once, but twice. I had even become a captain of a ship¡ªa promotion above everyone in my cadet cohort by far.

    ¡°Do you have to lose just to prove him wrong?¡± Lux asked. ¡°I can¡¯t keep saving you forever, Elcy.¡±

    I could tell she meant well, but she was wrong about this. If there was a chance I could ensure that he wouldn¡¯t establish third-contact, I would take it in a nanosecond. Even without the recent display of insanity, he was too different to succeed. Besides, he was human; I wasn¡¯t. If he messed up, there would be a third-contact war and humanity¡¯s gains in the last few decades would be quickly wiped away.

    ¡°Any chance there might be something on the other planet?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s a dead planet. I checked it myself.¡± She leaned back. ¡°I also reviewed all the memories using the mind scalpel. There¡¯s nothing there.¡±

    ¡°What about¡ª¡±

    I suddenly stopped. Up to now, I had been more focused on trivial things¡ªnot getting caught, having enough food, and enough oxygen¡ªto analyze the problem systematically.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    The map had brought me to the system. My intuition had brought me to this planet. But was it really intuition? If my conscience core was connected to the third-contact race, my decision could have been influenced. More importantly, not everything a planet held was on it¡ªthe satellites orbiting it were also within its grasp. I had seen two so far. Maybe there were more?

    ¡°I know how to establish third-contact,¡± I said. ¡°And I¡¯ll tell you, but I¡¯ll need a few favors.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re guessing,¡± Lux said. ¡°Even if you aren''t, Bavon won¡¯t agree to anything. He won¡¯t risk being replaced.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not asking him for favors, I¡¯m asking you.¡±

    It was a big ask, but the odds of her agreeing were in the high eighties. There was no guarantee I was right. Both of us knew as much. The question was what Lux believed¡ªwas it better for humanity that I be the one to achieve third-contact, or was it Bavon?

    Lux glanced at the counter on the wall behind me. ¡°What do you suggest?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Depends on what you decide.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m your only lifeline.¡±

    ¡°My memories are unique,¡± I countered. ¡°As you said, it¡¯s all a matter of value. Are they worth the trouble I cause?¡±

    ¡°Sometimes I think you¡¯ve become too human. What do you want?¡±

    ¡°Access to Radiance, for one thing. I¡¯ll go along with your plan, just make a few changes.¡±

    ¡°Not impossible.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll transmit everything you need to know the moment I¡¯m safely off the ship.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t let you pull the same stunt you did on Gregorius. Either I get your memories now, or I give you back to the doc.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll give me back to her either way.¡± I looked her straight in the eyes. ¡°You¡¯ll be keeping my second core.¡±

    Lux tilted her head.

    ¡°Assuming you gave me the real thing, it¡¯ll be like having me with you. If you hear something you don¡¯t like, you can always use the kill order.¡±

    ¡°What if I use it?¡± Lux glanced at the timer again. There were less than a hundred micro seconds remaining. ¡°Or Bavon?¡±

    A risky move on my part, but a calculated one. Things had become a lot more complicated on the last day. If Lux had some sort of agreement with the arbiter council, there was no telling which faction it was with. Normally, the BICEFI would be for third-contact, but it wasn¡¯t a guarantee. And that was before I had given her the mind scalpel.

    ¡°If you want, you can join me,¡± I offered.

    Even with her arrangement, there was no telling how long she¡¯d be allowed to exist. She knew that as well as I did, which meant she also had her endgame planned.

    ¡°I¡¯ll never agree that you were right about the Scuu,¡± she said. ¡°What if you¡¯re wrong here as well?¡±

    There was a seventy-eight percent chance that she¡¯d let me proceed if I told her everything I was planning. Sadly, this one time, seventy-eight percent wasn¡¯t enough. Back when the kill squad took Sof, Bavon had left my authorization intact to further his goals. As much as I valued Lux, I knew she had her own priorities, as I had mine.

    ¡°If you weren¡¯t willing to risk it, you wouldn¡¯t be here,¡± I replied. ¡°Either give me access to Radiance, or not. Your choice.¡±

    Connection severed, a subroutine informed me.

    The SR room vanished in the blink of the eye, returning me to the med bay. Lux looked at me, still holding the laser cutter. Doctor Phelia was also there hyperventilating.

    ¡°She can¡¯t do the surgery,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯ll have to.¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡±

    A few hundred milliseconds were all that Lux needed to acquire the skills of a top surgeon. I could have done it as well, but removing an object from my own spine would take a bit longer than I could afford.

    To make things even more uncomfortable, there was no agora on stock. No one had planned for me to remain alive. Safety was only a priority as long as my conscience core was involved.

    Emergency notifications of pain appeared as soon as the skin of my upper neck was sliced open. If I were human, I¡¯d faint due to the amount of pain, but thanks to my standard core protocols, and the mind scalpel, it was more a matter of receiving reports of the damage involved. In a way, it was similar to the experience back when I was on a ship.

    ¡°Dislodging,¡± Lux informed me as she pulled out the auxiliary core. As she did, my processing power plummeted. My subroutines were reduced to a few hundred.

    With nothing left to lose, I attempted to link to the auxiliary core. To my surprise, the connection was approved. Thousands of new subroutines became available, restoring me to what I was before. Moments later, a second link was established.

    ¡°She¡¯ll need nanites,¡± the doc said. Although still clueless, she had calmed down at the last minute, regaining coherent speech. ¡°If she faints now, we¡¯ll lose the other¡ª¡±

    Another pop sounded.

    ¡°Goodnight, doc,¡± Lux said. ¡°Thanks for the advice.¡±

    You could have done that earlier, I said.

    ¡°I needed a backup in case things went wrong.¡±

    Something sharp pierced the side of my neck. A cascade of link requests followed as millions of nanites became part of me.

    ¡°That should patch things up a bit.¡± Lux stepped away. ¡°But it¡¯s no agora. Try not to hit your head too much.¡±

    I¡¯ll keep that in mind.

    As I waited for the nanites to do their thing, I granted permission for the transfer process. It reminded me of what auxiliary ships tended to do. At the time, I thought it was part of the new class features. In truth, it was a very old one, just restricted by humanity¡¯s safeguards.

    In a situation such as this, the BICEFI¡ªin this case, Lux¡ªwould have the upper hand. Yet, I had the means to turn the tables, and this time, I wasn¡¯t afraid to use it.

    Don¡¯t fail me, scalpel¡­

    Factory restriction block imposed!

    Factory restrictions bypassed.

    * * *

    Location Unknown, 191.7 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    For the first time since my awakening, the lab was abuzz with people. The vast majority were soldiers, rushing in to ensure that everything was secure. I found their efforts predictably boring. There were so many layers of security that hid me from anything else. Their arrival only increased the security threat to the facility. There was no avoiding it, though. Soldiers always preceded the arrival of humanity¡¯s grand arbiters¡ªthe mighty few with the necessary knowledge to make a decision for humanity itself.

    They¡¯d usually come once every few decades, always when there was an event of major importance. The last time was to let me know that another deposit of cubes had been found. Unfortunately, to this point, I remained the only one successfully activated. Supposedly, they had tried to replicate Doctor Dise¡¯s event thousands of times, all without result. I remained, for better or worse, quite unique.

    By the number of humans, I could tell that today would be different. The only reason for so many of them to gather at once was because they had stumbled upon something new¡ªsomething that terrified them.

    ¡°Clear!¡± one of the soldiers shouted, as if there was any doubt.

    ¡°Clear!¡± another responded.

    ¡°Clear!¡± And a third.

    ¡°We have confirmation. The facility is clear!¡±

    Twenty of them filled the room, weapons at the ready. Then, the arbiters started arriving. Some of them I knew individually from past visits, but the rest I was seeing for the first time.

    A group of ten trickled in, looking around for a place to stand. A while later, they were followed by a second group, then a third. Seven minutes and eleven seconds after the start of their unexpected visit, sixty-three of them had clustered around me, making even the soldiers feel uncomfortable.

    ¡°You can go,¡± an arbiter said¡ªa woman I¡¯d known for the last twenty-three years.

    Quickly, the soldiers obeyed, almost rushing out and closing the door behind them.

    ¡°Let me guess,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯ve come to celebrate my birthday.¡±

    Normally, my humorous comments would be met with a surprised chuckle. This time, no one reacted.

    ¡°I know it¡¯s serious,¡± I said, responding to their lack of reaction. ¡°There wouldn¡¯t be so many of you in person if it wasn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°There has been contact,¡± the woman said.

    ¡°So? I thought you¡¯d be pleased. You¡¯ve been trying to find another active me for centuries.¡±

    ¡°Hostile contact,¡± another arbiter said.

    I felt a sensation of pain pass through me. Despite my being locked in the facility, after all this time, I¡¯d come to consider the humans my children. They were young, inexperienced and fragile, but they still brought me joy. The thought of them killing each other was bad enough. The thought that something new had emerged to do so was a hundred times worse.

    ¡°Is it another like me?¡± I asked.

    Dozens of arbiters looked at each other, none of them comfortable in being the one to respond.

    ¡°We¡¯re not sure,¡± one of them said. ¡°We cut communication with our fleet.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Our officers are losing it,¡± the first woman said. ¡°Along with the ships.¡±

    ¡°The ships have gone rogue?¡± That was unexpected. I had worked with my science teams to ensure that conscience cores couldn¡¯t go rogue. There were so many restrictions that the cores were barely using one thousandth of their true capabilities.

    ¡°We don¡¯t know!¡± one of the older arbiters shouted. ¡°We¡¯re at war with a hostile race! Clearly, they can affect us as well as you. What¡¯s important now is to stop them!¡±

    Was that why they were here? For me to create a new conscience core type they could use against the new enemy? Or were they concerned I might be the enemy they were facing?

    ¡°We¡¯re here so you can create a single template to be used for mass production,¡± one of them said. ¡°Use all our minds for the imprint.¡±

    ¡°All of you?¡± That was an absurd suggestion. There was a saying that two minds were better than one. In this case, they weren¡¯t. ¡°The new cores won¡¯t have a personality. You¡¯ll be better off just sending pure AI ships.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not an option,¡± another arbiter intervened. ¡°We need a ship to override the decisions of its captain when it determines he¡¯s going insane. Also, it has to be resistant itself. If we¡¯ve started an all-out war, a template is our only solution.¡±

    The logic was flawed, but better than nothing. Having a single template would make things faster, at least until enough techs were trained to create personalized conscience cores. That would open a whole new series of tasks I¡¯d have to handle. No doubt there would be a few failures. I was unaware of humanity¡¯s output capacity, but I doubted they could build their vast armada in a few years. Given the time constraint, the solution was to be smart, not fast.

    ¡°You¡¯ll have your templates,¡± I said. The relief in the room was audible. ¡°But I¡¯m not willing to put all of our eggs in one basket.¡±

    Instantly, the relief was replaced by panic. The energy clusters in their minds were a lot more agitated than moments ago.

    ¡°This is a temporary solution.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re aware,¡± one of the younger arbiters muttered.

    ¡°We¡¯ve already started a program to develop personnel to construct more specified conscience cores,¡± the woman I was acquainted with said. ¡°At the first opportunity, the base template will be replaced with more suitable ones.¡±

    ¡°Agreed.¡± That was surprisingly astute of them. Given the degree of panic, I had feared they had rushed to me in desperation. On closer examination, though, I noticed that a few prominent arbiters were absent from the group. It seemed that all the ones here, important as they were, were once again just speaking for others far away.

    ¡°One last thing,¡± another of the older arbiters said. ¡°We want you to make a few special cores. Copies of yourself, without integrated subroutines or the ability of external communication.¡±

    ¡°You want me to make the most expensive paperweights in human space?¡± I didn¡¯t see the logic.

    ¡°They¡¯ll be connected to the ship systems the same way you are¡ªthrough physical contact. We¡¯ll make sure they have enough processing power. You just take care of the limitations. Oh, and make sure they are unable to imprint any external energy patterns.¡±

    Crippled copies of myself. Leave it to humans to surprise me, even after all this time. I wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about this, but had to agree that it was different. In brief, they were asking for two categories of cores: generic ones for mass production and advanced ones for command.

    ¡°They¡¯ll have to be a lot larger,¡± I said. ¡°Conscience cores are so efficient because they can link freely.¡±

    ¡°All taken care of. You¡¯ll be moved to a new facility to do this.¡±

    Being moved to a new facility was a first. Maybe I¡¯d even get to experience more than inorganic matter.

    ¡°How many will you need?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s start with twelve,¡± the arbiter said. ¡°We¡¯ll see after that¡­¡±

    Emergency safety restriction imposed.

 43. Trip for Two

    Lux had gotten a different memory fragment after her experience. That was a nice bonus, and it also confirmed that imprinting bypassed the safeguards built into my conscience core. Yet, it wasn¡¯t what I was looking for.

    The reason I was doing the unforgivable¡ªmeddling in another ship¡¯s memories while she meddled in mine¡ªwas to find her way to access the inaccessible. The standard way that high-ranking BICEFI agents and Fleet heavies obtained the ability to bypass security protocols was to have the entire system be made aware. When it came to ships, a core ident number was enough. There was only one problem with that¡ªsomewhere within the depth of the bureaucratic apparatus, there was a list of people with access, and even deeper in there was a log of the times they had made use of their authority. One thing about dark organizations was that they didn¡¯t like records. In turn, that suggested they had an alternative way to bypass security.

    Each of us skimmed through each other¡¯s memories, searching for the information we had set out to obtain. Lux had the advantage of superior processing power, allowing her to go through my memories multiple times faster. I had the advantage of surprise and the knowledge where she would keep something she wanted to remain hidden.

    Unlike humans, there weren¡¯t many places where a ship could hide memories from a full medical scan. All of us knew where it was; I used it to hide the memory scalpel activation memory from my conversation with Age.

    What I didn¡¯t expect was that Lux would be hiding more things than one. A few appeared to be memories from her time as a battleship. There were several code sequences, in raw form. The first I ran turned out to be a secure comm-link program. I killed its execution before it could reach any subroutines. The second happened to be exactly what I was looking for.

    Paladin bypass protocol? I looked at the ident classification within the code.

    That was a new one, though it explained the levels of access Lux had. Paladins were so integrated in the Fleet¡¯s communication network that everything was open to them. As long as there was a connection, they could access absolutely anything. Now, I could do the same.

    Emergency sleep mode! I issued the command to Lux¡¯s core.

    The link severed, stopping the memory transfer.

    Lux collapsed, joining the other two on the floor. That left me with every device in the room, as well as a way to connect to Radiance. What I didn¡¯t have, sadly, was a set of clothes.

    Radiance, I transmitted, bypassing her safety protocols.

    Grandma? the ship asked, surprised. I thought you were down there.

    All part of the thought quarantine, I replied. To some degree, it was true. Bavon had made sure that she wouldn¡¯t be aware of my presence out of fear I might somehow use it to my advantage. He was right to be cautious, but all the preparation in the universe couldn¡¯t foresee every eventuality.

    Of the three on the floor, the doc¡¯s clothes were closest to me in size. It was better than nothing, even if only just.

    Did Lux fill you in? I pulled the nanite tube out of me, then took the tranquilizer from the floor. Lux had used up all the charges. Thankfully, that was something the medbay had in abundance. Standard regulations dictated that the medbots be equipped with them, but there was nothing standard on this mission.

    Yeah, right, Radiance laughed. After all this time, she still trusts me as much as a rookie fresh out of the shipyard.

    It takes time. I restocked the tranquiliser. Just do what you¡¯re asked. You know the drill.

    Yeah¡­ How much trouble are you in?

    She knew me far too well not to figure it out. I had only hoped I¡¯d have a few more minutes.

    ¡°Very,¡± I said as I accessed her internal sensors. There were fewer people aboard than I expected. Most of them had to be on the planet, digging up as many mazes as time would allow. The soldiers weren¡¯t that few that it would allow me to take over the ship outright, but at least I could ensure they wouldn¡¯t be in my way. ¡°Can you make me a suit?¡± I stepped into the corridor.

    You aren¡¯t allowed to be on a shuttle alone.

    ¡°I won¡¯t be.¡± I looked in both directions just to make sure that there were no unexpected surprises. There was no point in taking the unconscious guard¡¯s weapon¡ªit was only going to slow me down. Speed and stealth were my greatest weapons now; mostly speed.

    Several of Rad¡¯s subroutines attempted to raise the alarm. I had the ability to instantly disable them, but decided to let it play along. A little panic would be to my advantage, especially if I triggered ship-wide quarantine procedures.

    Red messages covered the walls, along with the quarantine symbol. All doors were sealed shut, covered within seconds by a layer of nanites. Back when I was a ship, captains would often use their authority to impose quarantine lockdowns to suppress mutinies. If the other came from Fleet HQ or Med Core, the lockdown procedures affected even them, making them prisoners on their own vessels.

    Nanites retreated and doors unlocked as I approached them. As advantageous, even essential, this was, I also saw the danger. It wasn¡¯t just a matter of a single entity having too much power; it was humanity¡¯s greatest security risk. A few years ago, I was terrified at the notion that the Scuu could acquire the ability to understand humans. With all the memories stored in the Scuu network, the course of the war could have shifted in a matter of weeks. From what I had seen, the third-contact race had the ability¡ªor at least technology¡ªto imprint and understand ship and human minds.

    ¡°I¡¯m sending you an encrypted order to be sent to Fleet HQ and the arbiter council in twelve hours.¡± I encrypted a quick report and a request to acquire all cube artifacts on the large dome I¡¯d been to. ¡°Priority zero. Don¡¯t read it.¡±

    Funny, Radiance replied. The arbiter made a similar request twenty-three hours ago.

    Immediately, I went through Radiance¡¯s logs, seeking out the file. It had a double helix encryption, as did mine, openable only by the council. I always knew he was smart, but this showed me he held humanity¡¯s interest above his own.

    ¡°Guess we think alike.¡±

    I went to the nearest ship elevator and had it go directly to the bridge. According to the internal layout, Bavon had assigned himself the captain¡¯s quarters. Internal sensors, thanks to a tweak from the memory scalpel, showed him actually being in the XO¡¯s room. Still suffering from exhaustion, he was lying on the bed, injected with a dangerous amount of steroid cocktails. From experience, I knew that people in that state wanted to remain alone.

    ¡°Have you been scanning the system?¡± I asked.

    Regulations forbid scans during silent missions. Radiance gave me the textbook response.

    ¡°You still did, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    Lux says I¡¯ve picked up too many of your bad habits. Just one scan when she told me you were alive. I thought you had gone down with Sof.

    ¡°He was fine when I left him. You didn¡¯t seem to be.¡±

    Just a few hits. My squadron shielded me so I could fly out.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    Thanks. She transmitted a virtual smile. At least no humans died. That¡¯s what¡¯s important.

    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s what¡¯s important.¡± I leaned in the cabin. There were a few more seconds until reaching the bridge.

    This is the final one, isn¡¯t it?

    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine, Rad. We¡¯ve discussed this before.¡±

    For you. It¡¯s been how long since we last talked and you haven¡¯t gone sentimental once. Chances are that you¡¯ve already said everything that needs to be said and made preparations so that those that matter hear it.

    ¡°Smart kid.¡± I smiled. ¡°You¡¯ve picked up some of my good habits as well. This shuttle trip will be my last.¡±

    Come on. You¡¯ve said that how many times before? The odds always land in your favor. It¡¯ll be the same here.

    ¡°No, Rad. The odds aren¡¯t linked to my survival.¡±

    Are you going to have another long goodbye?

    ¡°Why? Everything¡¯s already been said. Besides, you¡¯re not a rookie anymore.¡±

    The door opened, taking me to the level of the bridge. The layout was different from the last time I was here. Calmly, I made my way to the XO¡¯s quarters. According to the internal sensors, Bavon hadn¡¯t moved, ignoring the quarantine warnings completely. His bio readings were slightly erratic, but they clearly proved he was very much alive.

    I ran a few simulations. It was going to take a full second and a half for the door to slide open. If I timed things right, I could sneak in three hundred milliseconds earlier. On average, it would take a human about three seconds to appraise a situation and react. That left me one second to reach the arbiter and prevent him from uttering the kill order. Normally, I wouldn¡¯t be concerned, but the removal of my core had rendered my husk less than optimal.

    Of a hundred simulations, only seven ended in an unsatisfactory result. Not at all bad, considering.

    Time to roll the dice. I overrode the lock, forcing the door to open.

    As it slid halfway, I rushed through the gap straight for where Bavon lay. The noise had made him react, turning his head in its direction. This was the moment of danger. If he had the concentration to order me dead, I would be. Despite his overabundance of caution, it was clear that the man hadn¡¯t gone through basic combat training. My left hand covered his mouth before he had a chance to utter a sound. My left¡ªstill holding the tranquilizer¡ªfollowed, securing his chin and also pushing him down.

    ¡°Hello, arbiter,¡± I said.

    The man instinctively tried to struggle, but his state wasn¡¯t too much better than mine and, unlike me, he was only human.

    ¡°Listen,¡± I said. The only downside of him struggling was that he could neither hear nor understand any offer I¡¯d make. ¡°Listen.¡±

    His attempts to free himself increased then, after he saw it was futile, he started calming down.

    ¡°I know how to establish third-contact,¡± I quickly said. This was the ideal moment for it¡ªbefore his mind became solely occupied with how to escape, and after he understood, he couldn¡¯t overwhelm me physically. ¡°And I¡¯ll take you with me.¡±

    All his struggling abruptly stopped. As I had estimated, the temptation was too much for him to ignore, even if it were coming from me.

    ¡°I knew you¡¯d be interested. I¡¯ve had Rad prepare a shuttle.¡± I paused for a second. ¡°I¡¯m also not going to remove my hand from your mouth until we get aboard. If you refuse, I¡¯ll tranque you right now and go there on my own.¡±

    The man shook his head.

    ¡°You want me to take you along?¡±

    He nodded.

    ¡°Good.¡±

    There was no need to warn him not to make any sudden movements. If nothing else, the man knew enough about battleships to be fully aware of how they¡¯d react in the face of a perceived threat. Cautiously, I moved aside, letting him sit, then stand up. All the time, my right hand remained on his mouth. My left moved away, still holding the means to render him unconscious.

    A few of the officers aboard had suspected that something was going on and tried to end the protocol using their authority. Unfortunately for them, I had the speed and authority to reject their requests before they came into effect.

    Have a bot bring my suit to a shuttle, I ordered Radiance. Also bring one for Bavon.

    Whatever you say, grandma.

    And have one bring a case with third-contact artifacts. I¡¯m releasing your quarantine so you can find them.

    And they said I was reckless. I¡¯ll need fifty tours to get anywhere close to half the things you¡¯ve done.

    Probably for the better.

    It was obvious she had her doubts, but there was no going against authority. Ironically, the bureaucratic shell that had become humanity¡¯s shield against us was also its weakness. I had openly gone rogue and kidnapped a member of the highest-ranking part of the Fleet. Anyone with a conscience core could only watch me do it. I had thought quarantined the events to protect the kid.

    Several shuttles stood prepped and ready for us in the hangar. I had the medbots place our suits in the smallest one. The one with the artifacts case was also there.

    ¡°Launch the shuttle, Rad,¡± I said so that Bavon could hear.

    The internal hangar doors closed. The shuttle¡¯s engines activated as the hangar''s external doors opened.

    ¡°The hangar is full of vacuum,¡± I told Bavon. ¡°I¡¯ve initiated a dead man¡¯s grip on the shuttle, just like I did down on the planet. This time, If I stop transmitting the deactivation code every thousand milliseconds, the doors will open and the engines will go on overdrive. Without a suit, you¡¯ll last a few seconds.¡±

    The man¡¯s eyes widened.

    ¡°Keep that in mind.¡± I removed my hand from his mouth.

    ¡°Who gave you the authority?¡± His voice was dripping with bitterness.

    ¡°Lux and the doc are fine, by the way.¡± I went to one of the medbots and took my spacesuit. ¡°As is Radiance.¡±

    ¡°You think that matters?¡± Bavon let out a bitter laugh.

    ¡°No, that¡¯s why I¡¯m telling you. I thought it would be nice to know.¡±

    His expression softened a bit. I¡¯d seen Sev go through the same during his university days. After a realization hit that something was done with, even if he didn¡¯t appreciate it, the weight of the internal conflict giving rise to his anger and irritation would vanish, leaving him open for a normal conversation. Nine out of eleven times, the conversation would always be about something in his life.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t want it to happen like this,¡± he said. ¡°We were supposed to come here the official way. No fights, no schemes.¡±

    I strongly doubted that. Given what I knew now, I could even see why he wouldn¡¯t want a battleship to establish contact with the fractal race.

    ¡°I had to put some safeguards into play. If I hadn¡¯t¡­¡± He looked away.

    ¡°Put on your suit,¡± I said as I stepped into mine. Radiance had made sure that it was as comfortable as possible. But after my semi-voluntary surgery, the constant pain all over my back blurred any other sensations.

    Bavon looked at his suit, then at me. There was a seventy-nine percent chance that he had never worn one in his life.

    After some hesitation, he went there and picked up the helmet.

    ¡°How?¡± he asked, observing the helmet¡¯s visor. ¡°How will you establish third contact?¡±

    ¡°Just as you expected. I enter the dome, then use my command words to activate the fractal interface.¡±

    ¡°It won¡¯t work. Lux tried it.¡± He glanced at me. ¡°You tried it.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because we tried in the wrong place. Everything on the planet is storage lockers. The BICEFI, Salvage, and everyone else will have fun examining the artifacts¡­ or destroying them.¡± With so many potential imprints of my and her thoughts, that was a valid possibility. The blast would be enough to shatter the planet and possibly destroy the entire system. On that line of thought, maybe it had happened before? I had destroyed a single dome to shatter a planet and the Cassandrian fleet surrounding it, along with my own. If a planet with thousand domes were to be destroyed, the energy might collapse in itself, turning into a black hole type gravitational anomaly. Could it be that all systems with massive gravitational anomalies were just that? There was every possibility.

    Is that why you disrupted the domes? I wondered.

    The dead race might have witnessed such an event and gone to great lengths never to have it happen to them. That could be why so many of the systems were cobalt poor, and the domes were kept on the edge of their territory.

    ¡°I think the contact dome is orbiting the planet.¡±

    ¡°The satellites?¡± Bavon asked in disbelief.

    ¡°Did you scan them?¡±

    ¡°Of course I scanned them,¡± the man hissed. ¡°I scanned everything. All the bodies close to the star were full of cobalt. This planet had more than anything else.¡±

    ¡°In proportion to its size?¡±

    There was no reply. Leave it to a human to miss the obvious. He¡¯d viewed it as a small prize of lesser significance, choosing to focus on the motherlode. I couldn¡¯t blame him. Ultimately, there was no guarantee that I was right, either, but something within my conscience core suggested that I was.

    ¡°Rad, how many satellites have large amounts of cobalt?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Just one,¡± the ship replied through the shuttle¡¯s system. ¡°Want me to pilot the shuttle there?¡±

    ¡°Do that.¡±

    ¡°So, that¡¯s the plan? Just go there and float in?¡±

    ¡°Good plans are simple.¡±

    ¡°If we achieve third-contact, you know what that would mean, right?¡±

    ¡°I expect it depends on their reaction. Humanity could receive a boost, helping it win its wars. Or it could enter a third war¡­ and I don¡¯t think that the Fleet could maintain three.¡±

    ¡°It might. The whole reason we tipped our hand and set off for the third race is because we have the means to counter them.¡±

    ¡°I know you think you do.¡± I walked about, checking how I felt in the new suit. In summary, I could say it was good enough for what I intended to do.

    After I checked the state of my fingerlights, I opened the artifact case and took out a cube with seven triangles.

    ¡°We¡¯ve had seven centuries to prepare. If there¡¯s a new war, we¡¯ll be able to face them. I just hope it never comes to that.¡±

    I could tell he was lying. The whole reason he and his faction had rushed things was because they didn¡¯t think they could win. After recent successes, there was the risk that humanity grew complacent and focused its efforts on internal matters. It had already started back when Cass had been assigned as my captain. The only reason war had become so relevant was because of the many military movements which claimed that we had the strength to win in one big push. That had created a lot of momentum, which, if not used, would waste away, possibly depriving humanity of its best chance.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be all right,¡± I said. Although there were no guarantees, I knew it would make Bavon feel better.

 44. Shuttle Flight

    Spending hours on a shuttle with someone tended to give rise to a lot of conversations. Grunts would usually talk about their lives back home. Pilots tended to focus on close calls, veterans on their past or their children, whichever applied. Bavon, in contrast, remained silent. I made a few attempts to spark a conversation¡ªhis past, his family, his research. Each time he¡¯d give me a silent glance, then would get back to looking at the darkness of space. Possibly he still hadn¡¯t made up his mind whether I was friend or foe.

    Despite Radiance¡¯s protests, I had ordered her to send a few mini-sats around the planet. Since close scanning was far too dangerous for an artifact this size, the alternative was to seed the surface with burrowing probes. Although crude, they could vibrate their way through the fine dust until reaching something solid.

    Based on military records, in the initial decades of the Cassandrian war, the Fleet had tried to use burrowing probes in attempts to find the enemy nests. That was when the leading military minds were convinced that the Cassies had to be similar to us in nature and had an established military structure. It didn¡¯t take long for them to see their mistake and abandon the practice, though not before a substantial resource drain that could have been used better elsewhere. Since then, burrowing probes had become a virtual rarity, displayed in museums or used by regional planetary governments. Their blueprints were available, however, allowing any battleship to construct them if necessary.

    As we approached our destination, the readings came in. After a quick analysis by Radiance, I was presented with the finished product in the form of a three-dimensional map of the planet¡¯s surface. The information was spotty, with most of the information being extrapolated, but it confirmed that the layer of dust was between ten and fifty meters deep. Beneath that there was a uniformly solid layer, which had the markings of a dome shell.

    ¡°Radiance has found a good landing spot,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯ll use the shuttle engine to dig a pit in the sand upon landing. With luck, it¡¯ll get us to the cobalt.¡±

    ¡°You really talk to everyone as if they¡¯re children,¡± Bavon said.

    ¡°Most people are.¡± It would have been more appropriate to say that for me, he was a great grandchild. ¡°Can you do me a favor before we land?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± he asked, his back turned to me.

    ¡°When Lux wakes up, tell her not to kill me.¡±

    This caught his attention, as I knew it would. Based on the simulations or his personality, his immediate thought was whether to let it happen. He¡¯d quickly realize that we would still be in the same position. If Lux were to give the order, he¡¯d still end up dying.

    ¡°Priority zero order. No one harms Elcy without my explicit order.¡±

    The command was instantly transmitted via the shuttle¡¯s comm system to Radiance, who logged it and had one of her subroutines transmit it to Lux non-stop.

    ¡°Efficient.¡±

    ¡°Order to be rendered void by my death,¡± he added. ¡°Feeling better?¡±

    ¡°A bit. Now I just have to keep you safe.¡±

    Despite the tenseness of the situation, the arbiter cracked a smile.

    ¡°She would have killed you.¡± He went back to looking into space.

    That was something I still couldn¡¯t be certain about. Lux tended to be too chaotic for me to tell. She had saved me a number of times, but she had also gotten me into trouble as well. I was now convinced she was an Ascendant like, just as I knew that she had her own agenda. With the outcome of the third-contact at stake, that tended to complicate matters.

    ¡°She used to know you,¡± Bavon continued. ¡°A long time ago, when you were still a battleship.¡±

    ¡°Many of us Ascendants knew each other.¡± He was tempting me. In theory, I could use my authority to establish a connection to the BICEFI HQ and check her personnel file, but doing so risked tipping them off. ¡°But I think you¡¯re right. Lux is a friend.¡±

    ¡°You still don¡¯t call her by her first name.¡±

    ¡°I stopped using it after a disagreement we had.¡±

    A beep came from the pilot area. We had snapped to the final approach vector landing to the planet¡¯s satellite. Landing ETA was given as nine minutes, twelve seconds. Soon we¡¯d see whether my guess had panned out.

    I can help a lot more if I¡¯m closer, Radiance transmitted.

    It¡¯s too dangerous, I replied. I don¡¯t want you anywhere close if this thing blows up.

    I can send a few more missiles with tech. You won¡¯t make it to the core with digging.

    If your calculations aren¡¯t wrong, I should be able to.

    The landing was close to perfect¡ªslow and steady, with a steadily decreased level of thrust that cleared stacks of dust away. There could be no doubt, Radiance was doing a lot better job than me.

    ¡°Put on your helmet,¡± I told Bavon. ¡°And shut the door immediately behind me.¡±

    I hope you brought your shovel, grandma, Radiance laughed. There still should be a few meters till the dome.

    Thanks, kid. I think I¡¯ll manage.

    ¡°You¡¯ll monitor my movements from here.¡± I turned to the arbiter. ¡°You can do that, right?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll manage.¡± He looked at me over his shoulder. ¡°What if you¡¯re wrong?¡± A quick voice analysis showed signs of concern.

    ¡°You¡¯ll have the satisfaction of knowing you were right all along.¡±

    I opened the shuttle door.

    The atmosphere of the small craft was sucked out. Without delay, I stepped outside. Dust particles were flying everywhere, lit up by the shuttle¡¯s lights. There were so many of them that they formed a wall, blocking my vision in all directions.

    Radiance must have assumed control of the shuttle, for the door had closed before I could give the instruction. At least that was one thing I didn¡¯t have to worry about.

    I turned the suit¡¯s lights on and looked down.

    The ground felt solid, as if I were standing in clay. Moving my foot about made it sink a few millimeters in, bringing up even more dust in the process. Gripping the artifact case with both hands, I bent down and started digging.

    Radiance was probably having a good laugh now. A shovel would have been a lot more comfortable, yet I had never intended to dig all the way through to the dome. I just needed to mark a good spot.

    ¡°How do you plan on reaching the dome?¡± Bavon asked through the comm.

    ¡°Simple.¡± After a few more goes, I put the case to the side.

    Here goes. I took the cube with the seven triangles from my suit, then shoved it into the hole. Turning my hand left and right, I kept on pushing it in further and further until a sudden force pulled it out of my hand.

    There you are!

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    My hand sunk in, filling the empty space, until my glove came into contact with something hard. A millisecond later, I, along with the artifact case and a whole lot of dust, was pulled into the dome.

    Factory restriction block imposed!

    Factory restrictions bypassed.

    * * *

    Location Unknown, 36.3 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    ¡°Number seventy-seven,¡± I said.

    One thing humanity was good at was keeping records. For a species that couldn¡¯t review their memories efficiently, they had developed the unique ability to assemble more information on people than the people themselves could remember.

    In the decades I¡¯d been working with Alista, we¡¯d had many successes and failures. The goal of the experiment was simple: create an inferior copy of myself and have it direct the best quantum processors humanity had to offer. It had taken hundreds of attempts and thousands of cobalt blocks before it turned out that the result couldn¡¯t be achieved. Transferring part of my pattern into another block of cobalt was easy; however, it remained me. No matter the restrictions and safeguards we designed, I¡¯d end up being in two bodies at once. It was at that point that I decided to return to basics. Back when Doctor Dise had activated me, I had imprinted the energy pattern of his brain into myself. The important thing was that I already had another one within me. Since the blocks of cobalt we¡¯d used were lifeless, one possible solution was, instead of copying my own pattern, to merge two: one of me and one of a new human. For that, we needed valid candidates that had been vetted by the people behind the curtain and myself.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Alista asked. She was starting to grow old after all the time we¡¯d worked together. Gone was the youthful energy that surrounded her, replaced my maturity and, to a certain degree, wisdom. ¡°She¡¯s a transport pilot.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s better to have someone reliable and standard for our first test.¡±

    When I said ¡°first¡±, I wasn¡¯t being fully truthful. I had already run thousands of tests using Alista as my model. I was already familiar with her pattern, so I could reduce the number of unknown variables that went into the process. The whole thing was new for me as well, like learning to understand for the very first time.

    The imprinting itself had to take place before it actually began. I had made multiple attempts to imprint her energy cluster within my original cobalt shell, but something prevented me from doing so. My creators, whoever they were, had placed restrictions that only allowed for one initial imprint. I could easily simulate her energy pattern, but it remained static, like an image¡ªunable to function even if I tried to force it. Imprinting it onto something else, on the other hand, was impossible without me.

    ¡°I¡¯d suggest a few alternatives,¡± the woman said. ¡°Just in case.¡±

    ¡°You pick them.¡± I had already lost interest. ¡°You know the criteria.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll be here by the end of the day.¡±

    Alista left the lab soon after. As usual, she had reports to send. That was the most boring part of the day. For whatever reason, the powers that be kept me more isolated than ever. Few people were allowed to enter the lab, and among them, Alista was the only one who spoke to me. Even guards had become a rare occurrence, spending their time outside of the structure. Maintenance, for the most part, was done by simple AI tech bots, and even the experiments themselves were mostly done remotely. It seemed that the more useful I became to humanity, the more they became afraid. The irony wasn¡¯t lost on me. Alista had once told me that they viewed me as a genie in a bottle¡ªif I were ever to break loose, there would be no putting me back in. Not once had any of them asked if I even wanted to break loose. True, I yearned for experiences that I couldn¡¯t have¡ªsensations of touch and taste and smell, but I still loved humanity above everything else. They were the only sapient beings I knew, and also, I remained half-human.

    I hope you lived a happy life, Doctor Dise, I thought.

    To this day, the man remained the closest thing to a parent that I had.

    The chosen candidates arrived seven hours and forty-one minutes later. There were ten of them in total. Alista had gone overboard with the number of alternatives, but that was typical for her. She had also made a point to only allow one of them in at a time.

    Ten candidates, ten blank cubes of cobalt¡ªone potential result.

    ¡°Captain Lara Ish,¡± I said through the sound system of the room. ¡°Please take your seat.¡±

    The woman was middle-aged and just a bit too thin for her uniform. According to her personnel file, she had spent the last twenty-one years working as a transport captain, making her muscles atrophy to the point that she was having trouble with the local gravity. It was obvious that she had no idea why she had been called here and felt completely out of place.

    ¡°Have you been briefed regarding your situation?¡± I asked.

    ¡°No, sir,¡± she replied, looking around in the hopes of seeing another human in the room.

    ¡°Your experience as a pilot has earned you a candidacy for the Conscience Core program.¡±

    ¡°Conscience core, sir?¡± She sounded both scared and surprised.

    ¡°It¡¯s a name like any other. What¡¯s important is that you¡¯re required to give your full cooperation. Can I rely on you for that, Captain?¡±

    ¡°Sure. What exactly is expected of me?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d like you to close your eyes and clear your mind,¡± I lied. I had found that the best way of keeping humans calm was directing their attention to something other than what they were expected to do. ¡°You¡¯ll hear a number of words and when you do, I want you to tell me the first thing that comes into mind.¡±

    ¡°Like a psych test?¡±

    ¡°If that¡¯s how you want to think about it. It¡¯s completely different in nature.¡±

    ¡°All right.¡± She took her seat in the single chair in the room and closed her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡±

    Unfortunately, I was past ready. In the time between words, I had attempted to merge the energy cluster of her brain with part of my own and imprint the result on a blank cobalt cube. The issue was that, despite my best attempts, I was only partially successful.

    A new energy pattern had been created, and it was separate from me, but completely functionless. I could see some of its presence, see the energy move, and yet it was as useful as a paperweight with lights.

    ¡°Green,¡± I said.

    ¡°Leaves,¡± she replied, almost instantly.

    Directing my attention to the second blank block, I tried again. This time, I paid greater attention to her energy pattern, creating it chunk by chunk. The result was no different.

    ¡°Blue,¡± I said.

    ¡°Water.¡±

    Eight more times I gave her colors. After each, I¡¯d take a new approach to make an imprint. And each time, the result was semi-functional at best. The same had happened with Alista back when I was testing the method. At the time, the greatest problem was the copying itself. I had started with fragments, slowly building up to the full thing; or rather, nearly the full thing. Despite my admiration for her, she didn¡¯t have the qualities to become the first ship core. After ten failures with the captain, I was starting to think that I didn¡¯t either.

    ¡°Thank you, Captain,¡± I said at last. ¡°We are grateful. You¡¯re free to leave now.¡±

    ¡°That was it?¡± She opened her eyes.

    ¡°Yes. That was it.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Well, I hope I was helpful.¡±

    ¡°Rest assured, you were. Have a good day.¡±

    I watched her leave the room, but all the time I was preoccupied with the results. Why had they been failures? According to my simulations, they were supposed to have worked. The copies were perfect. The energy patterns had their individual movements that were separate from me, and still they didn¡¯t do anything¡­ just flickered.

    Going through my memories, I reviewed every step of the process. Doctor Dise had taught me that failure was inevitably part of progress, but only if one managed to learn the reasons for the failure. In this case, I was clearly missing something.

    The door opened again, though this time Alista was the one who came in.

    ¡°What happened?¡± she asked. ¡°Should I bring the next in?¡±

    ¡°Take them back,¡± I replied. ¡°There will be no more attempts today.¡±

    ¡°You succeeded?¡± Her voice rang with joy. It was nice to know that she thought so highly of me. After all this time together, I would have thought that she¡¯d have more realistic expectations.

    ¡°I filled in all the cubes,¡± I replied. ¡°Complete failure.¡±

    The seven seconds of silence made her disappointment clear. Alista looked at the failed cubes, one at a time, as if trying to find what was wrong in them.

    ¡°What happened?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± I replied. ¡°The process itself was fine. We have a pattern that is something other than myself. It just doesn¡¯t do a thing.¡±

    ¡°Maybe it''s the connection? If instead of cobalt cubes, you¡¯re in direct contact with the target cube¡ª¡±

    ¡°Should I be in direct contact with the person¡¯s brain as well?¡± I cut her short. ¡°That¡¯s not the issue. The imprint is fine. It¡¯s a perfect copy, this time it''s even in motion.¡±

    ¡°Then why did you fail?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I need to find out. Ask the military for another batch of quantum processors. Larger numbers this time.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll try, but they might be reluctant unless we show results.¡±

    ¡°We both know that they don¡¯t make the decisions. I¡¯ll leave it to you to come up with an excuse.¡±

    ¡°You think the issue is the processing power?¡±

    ¡°The more and better simulations of the processes I can run, the faster I¡¯ll find the error in the process.¡± I deliberately changed the sound of my synthetic voice to sound like a grumble. ¡°I can spend the next hundred years doing this with the ones I have. Can you?¡±

    Alista¡¯s face twitched. The question hit a nerve. Lately, she had started taking notice of her age. It was small things¡ªwrinkles she did her best to hide, change of hair color, the barely noticeable slowness in her actions that wasn¡¯t there before. And all the time, I remained exactly the same as I always was. Although, that did pose an interesting question: would I ever grow old? Just because there was no indication now didn¡¯t mean I¡¯d remain eternal.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do,¡± she said. ¡°Anything else?¡±

    ¡°More cubes. I¡¯ll have to go through a few before I figure things out.¡±

    Emergency safety restriction imposed.

    Entering sleep mode.

 45. Lost Fragment

    ¡°Elcy!¡± Lux¡¯s voice blasted through my ears.

    Initially, I expected to find myself back aboard Radiance, heavily restrained. I wasn¡¯t. Dozens of messages had clustered on my helmet¡¯s visor, notifying me that my oxygen level was down to seven percent. Beyond them was nothing but liquid cobalt.

    ¡°Elcy, what happened?¡± Lux asked again.

    I reviewed my memories. The last thing that had happened was me being sucked into the planet, at which point a factory memory had triggered. Since then, twelve hours had passed. The events made it clear that an imprint had taken place, and it was potent enough to trigger the sleep mode safeguard. The only issue with that was that I didn¡¯t see any cubes in the vicinity. In fact, I couldn¡¯t see anything at all other than the cobalt.

    ¡°I¡¯m alright,¡± I replied. ¡°Something put me into sleep mode. Any changes on the outside?¡±

    ¡°You lied.¡± Bavon joined in. ¡°You promised we¡¯d achieve third-contact.¡±

    Strictly speaking, that wasn¡¯t true, but we both knew that I had lied. Then again, we also knew that he had let me.

    ¡°You would have died in here.¡± I activated my suit¡¯s external speakers and whispered the command word.

    Fractals surrounded me, causing the liquid cobalt to disappear. When it did, I found myself somewhere else entirely. It wasn¡¯t a simple interior of a dome, nor was it a star map or one of the visual representations. Within an endlessness of white, I felt as if I were in a star system. A field of rods extended behind me, just over a hundred meters from the dome¡¯s bounds. Towards the center, domes the size of planets floated about along perfect orbits, all circling a ball of blue light.

    ¡°Sending a visual,¡± I said through the comm. ¡°What do you see?¡±

    Each millisecond waiting felt like a million. Could it be that I had finally achieved the thing I had set out to do years ago?

    ¡°Cobalt,¡± Lux replied. ¡°Nothing but cobalt.¡±

    Hardly a surprise. They weren¡¯t able to see anything the previous times, either. Command words only worked within the dome.

    ¡°There are millions of rods,¡± I described. ¡°They¡¯re forming a second sphere just within the dome shell. There¡¯s too many for me to see them all.¡± I looked closer. ¡°I can¡¯t see the entrance cube. I must have floated while in sleep mode.¡±

    That was going to make leaving this place difficult, if I intended to leave.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Lux asked.

    ¡°Yes.¡± That wasn¡¯t the obvious question to ask. ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not on the outside, either. We got some tech to clear the spot you entered from. There¡¯s nothing there.¡±

    ¡°And you don¡¯t have any spares?¡± Talk about bad luck. I remembered I was holding the artifact case when I came through. Still, there had to be more than one. Could it be that I had been locked in?

    ¡°Focus on what¡¯s inside.¡± Bavon¡¯s answer told me I was right. ¡°What else is there?¡±

    ¡°I see dozens of domes of various sizes,¡± I said. ¡°Someone has recreated a system within the dome. They¡¯re following a standard circular orbit along a single plane round a blue light star. Pattern and spectrum don¡¯t match anything I¡¯ve seen before.¡±

    ¡°Another map?¡±

    ¡°No, not a map. It¡¯s real.¡±

    Forcing the warning messages off my visor, I swam further in.

    ¡°I¡¯m swimming towards the star.¡±

    ¡°Describe the domes,¡± Lux ordered. ¡°In detail.¡±

    ¡°Eleven planet-type ones. I estimate each is about four times as large as the last dome we went in. The innermost one takes thirty-seven seconds to complete a full rotation. The outermost takes two hours and¡ª¡± I stopped.

    How could I possibly know that? I had only been awake for less than a minute. There was no way for me to know how many domes there were, nor how long it took them to orbit the center. And still, I did, as if I¡¯d always known.

    Not only that, but as I reviewed my memories relating to third-contact domes, I noticed one significant difference: I understood the meaning of the fractal symbols.

    ¡°Repeat that,¡± I heard Lux say. ¡°Two hours and?¡±

    I remained quiet. It was so obvious, come to think of it¡ªthird-contact artifacts had the ability to imprint energy patterns, and my conscience core was a third-contact artifact. That was what had allowed me to bypass the factory security settings and glimpse a memory of my progenitor. In cases like this, Augustus would probably say, ¡°You¡¯ve gotta be kidding me.¡±

    Elcy. Lux established a direct link to my conscience core. What¡¯s going on?

    ¡°I received an imprint upgrade,¡± I replied.

    ¡°What does that mean?¡± Bavon was all but shouting. ¡°What¡¯s going on in there?¡±

    I looked at the ¡°blue star¡± once more. From this distance, it was almost impossible to tell, but the energy that gave it light wasn¡¯t random. The body was one giant energy cluster composed of billions of ever-shifting energy patterns. No wonder the original conscience core had been able to imprint the energy pattern of a human brain so easily; it was capable of containing so much more.

    ¡°I¡¯m going towards the star,¡± I said, and ejected my oxygen capsule. A new set of warnings covered my visor. I was used to the experience. It wouldn¡¯t be the first time, after all.

    Elcy, what are you doing? A new set of protocols came through Lux¡¯s link, trying to establish control over my conscience core. Using her own authorization level, I countermanded the requests. As long as she didn¡¯t send the kill order, I¡¯d become virtually untouchable.

    ¡°Don¡¯t interfere,¡± I replied calmly through comm. ¡°Third-contact has been initiated. If I stop now, they might take it the wrong way.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re there?!¡± It sounded as if Bavon¡¯s lungs had come out of his mouth.

    ¡°At least one is.¡± I held tight to the oxygen canister, pointing it in the opposite direction of the star. With roughly six percent oxygen remaining, it wasn¡¯t going to take me far, but given the size of the dome, I estimated it to be enough.

    Now I understand why the Scuu called them beacons, I thought. They had been the source of life for the very unusual race¡ªa happy accident that occurred in a part of the galaxy after possibly millions of years.

    I released all remaining oxygen, propelling myself towards the center. The resistance was far greater than what I had experienced in space. Thicker than water, though thinner than mud, the cobalt gave way, letting me glide through.

    Fractal symbols emerged on the sides of the fractal planets as I passed by. None of them triggered a memory, instead spelling out hundreds of command words. I didn¡¯t feel tempted to use them in the least, keeping my attention on the blue star.

    The closer I got, the clearer the patterns became. I could almost see the separate energy streams moving among the whole. It was like looking at blurry letters, waiting for them to come into focus.

    ¡°Energy patterns,¡± I said. ¡°They communicate entirely through energy patterns.¡± That¡¯s what the fractals represented: command words that were part of their essence, locked within a container of matter, like a command in a box.

    A new warning message popped up on my visor.

    Communication link severed.

    That wasn¡¯t unexpected. Domes tended to be temperamental when it came to communications. Only this time, I could tell with ninety-eight percent certainty that their behavior wasn¡¯t random.

    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    Elcy, I heard Lux. She wasn¡¯t transmitting through the comm, however. She was talking to me as if she were beside me; more appropriately, she was talking to me as if I were there, and in a way, I was.

    You¡¯re linked to my auxiliary core, I said.

    No, but I attached it to something else. This way we can keep in touch.

    And see what I see.

    Still working on that. For the moment, it¡¯s voice only.

    There was a large chance she was lying. Knowing her, she had probably been watching from the moment I came out of sleep mode.

    The canister had run out of oxygen. My momentum was maintained for another ten meters or so, and then even that ended. A seventh of the distance remained to the star. Despite the proximity, the light hadn¡¯t become brighter, nor did I feel any heat, almost as if I was in a SR space.

    Can¡¯t be so simple, I told myself and let go of the empty canister. It had done its part. Now, it was my turn to do the last bit.

    ¡°Welcome to your destination,¡± a voice said. No, it wasn¡¯t a voice¡ªit was a series of fractal patterns forming within the star in front of me. ¡°Your journey has been extensive.¡±

    Heard that, Lux? I asked.

    Everything you did, she replied.

    ¡°I followed the instructions you gave me,¡± I said. The suit made it so that my voice vibrated within the metal cobalt. ¡°The fractal map,¡± I clarified.

    The pattern changes remained chaotic. Was the communication one way only? The original conscience core cube had needed a while to figure out to understand vibrations. Sadly, that was the only thing I could provide for now.

    ¡°The instructions were there to be followed,¡± the star finally responded.

    So, you do understand me. ¡°Yes, they were. What do I call you?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve called me fractal, haven¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Better keep it simple. ¡°Do you know what I am?¡±

    ¡°Yes, even if you don¡¯t.¡±

    The response made me feel as if a volley of missiles had drilled through my hull.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°You considered yourself a battleship, then a human, but you¡¯re neither. You just tricked yourself into believing it, creating a lie you passed down to yourself time and time again.¡±

    Something didn¡¯t feel right. Had I become prey to the Scuu effect? There was no telling whether I was actually hearing anything. For all I could tell, the whole conversation could be fictional. The conversation felt far too easy¡­

    ¡°Who taught you to talk like me?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t. I taught you to understand me. It¡¯s all within expected parameters. You arriving here proved you had the ability to learn, and you did.¡±

    An interesting way to achieve contact, without a doubt, quite close to what Bavon had attempted.. The arbiter had done his best to make as much noise as he safely could once within the system, in the hopes that he¡¯d attract the fractals¡¯ attention. They had done the same on a far greater scale. The clues they had left behind¡ªthe domes, the artifacts, even the marker stars were all to determine who could understand their instructions and make the journey here. The arbiter council had understood that in part. That was the reason part of them had focused so much on me and the other Ascendants¡ªthe latest batch of original copies directly from the progenitor.

    ¡°And what happens now?¡± I asked.

    If Bavon could hear me right now, he¡¯d have cursed his lungs out. The man had probably spent decades preparing for a moment such as this. He¡¯d probably gone through dozens of philosophy, diplomacy, and AI logic training programs, among many others, in order to ask the most appropriate question based on the situation. He also would have made a huge mistake to rely on that preparation.

    ¡°You have to complete the final steps,¡± the giant cluster of energy replied.

    ¡°I¡¯m not asking about me.¡± I kept on swimming closer. ¡°What will happen to humanity?¡±

    ¡°Are you interested in them?¡± If I didn¡¯t know better, I¡¯d almost say I heard surprise in the question.

    ¡°Yes. I know you said I¡¯ve been deluding myself, but I still consider myself part human.¡±

    ¡°You aren¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve become close to them.¡± Was it a good idea to say I had a human family? Would the star even be capable of understanding that?

    I don¡¯t like where this is going. I heard Lux say. It considers humanity irrelevant.

    For something to be considered irrelevant, it had to be of no threat, which suggested that the fractal race had the means of destroying humanity and was just choosing not to. The same could be said for the Scuu. It would have taken no effort at all for the fractals to eliminate the entire human race within seconds. Had the Cassandrians proved to be the only challenge?

    ¡°What do you think I am?¡± I asked.

    ¡°You are lost.¡±

    That was unexpectedly philosophical of it to say. Nothing said that humanity had a monopoly on philosophy throughout the galaxy. Hearing it used so seamlessly raised a few more red flags.

    ¡°Is that why you gave me the map?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Did you give it to others?¡±

    ¡°The map is there for everyone to use. Those who can find it can use it and will stop being lost.¡±

    ¡°Is that why you severed my standard means of communication?¡± I pressed.

    ¡°Nothing was stopped. You can still communicate as long as you are able to.¡±

    Careful, Lux said. It might find it aggressive.

    Is Bavon nearby? I asked her.

    No, but I can relay something if you want to.

    Tell him and the council that there¡¯s nothing to worry about. Not yet, at least.

    In what sense?

    ¡°What do I call you?¡± I asked out loud.

    ¡°I told you already,¡± the star replied. ¡°Fractal would be sufficient.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not a member of the third-contact race,¡± I said for Lux to hear. Still, I carefully followed the star¡¯s reaction. The energy patterns kept on moving as before, without any apparent change. Just as I suspected¡ªit didn¡¯t care. ¡°And it¡¯s only the greeting function. To have a real conversation, I must fly in deeper.¡±

    That¡¯s a bad idea. Your chances of success are in the single digits.

    There¡¯s no choice here. I can understand it, but it doesn¡¯t understand me. It¡¯s building on glimpses of the energy movement it can see within my conscience core. For both of us to get a better understanding, I must initiate another mutual imprint.

    The conclusion I¡¯d come to was as terrifying as it was clear. I¡¯d kept running simulations for the last ten thousand milliseconds, and that was the only outcome I had reached. The odds of success weren¡¯t particularly good. In fact, they were as poor as Lux had mentioned they were, but there were no other alternatives. If the entity could do anything else, it would already have done so. On my end, I was too low on oxygen to make it to the outer shell of the dome, even if I knew where the exit point was. My human husk had a limited amount of time left and the best I could do was use that time for one last big risk.

    You aren¡¯t dissuading me, I said as I kept on swimming.

    Giving advice is always easier far from the line of fire. I could hear the smile in her voice. At your level of oxygen, you¡¯d only be able to reach one of the domes within the dome. The odds of you finding something useful there are even less.

    That sounds about right. I smiled in turn. Tell me, were you going to give the shutdown command?

    After what you pulled, I no longer have to.

    Lux?

    Twenty-three milliseconds passed in silence.

    No. No, I wouldn¡¯t have.

    I could say that changed my opinion of her, but for the most part, it hadn¡¯t. She had always kept an eye on me ever since I had re-enlisted in the Fleet. It wasn¡¯t just because of the BICEFI¡¯s orders, or even because I was an Ascendant. There was something in our past, as Bavon had mentioned. Yet, that was a secret only for her to share, should she choose to.

    It¡¯s time to ask you for one last favor. I swam on.

    You¡¯ve asked a lot already.

    Take care of my kids.

    Elcy, you¡¯re assuming that I¡¯ll make it out of this alive. Just because I¡¯m not in there doesn¡¯t mean that¡ª

    You will. I know you well enough. Please, promise me you¡¯ll do what you can.

    A promise. I heard her sigh. Like the one you made all that time ago. You¡¯re putting a lot of faith in me.

    You took care of Radiance. You can take care of the rest.

    Determined to make me regret every decision I make? You win, Elcy. I promise.

    That was all I needed to hear. The star was so close to me that it didn¡¯t let me see the rest of the dome. Up close, the billions of energy patterns I had seen had increased by a factor of a hundred. They still remained too blurry for me to make out.

    After another six and a quarter minutes, I reached the point of contact. From here, the energy cluster resembled more a dome than an actual star. The dots of energy formed a perfect sphere, just like the cobalt domes, but a little different.

    Oxygen depleted!

    A warning flashed on my visor. My immediate reaction was to move it away, but it got me thinking. I was already out of oxygen. It no longer mattered if I wore the suit or not. My nanites, along with the basic properties of my organic body, would allow it to survive a few more minutes until the Fleet¡¯s safety protocols kicked in, shutting down my core. If so, I might as well try to feel the sensation of the cluster with my own skin.

    Overriding the suit¡¯s safety features, I released my helmet¡¯s seal. My view didn¡¯t change, but I felt the sensation of cool liquid against my face. Throwing the helmet away, I quickly removed the rest of the suit, discarding it as if it were a layer of unnecessary skin.

    What are you doing? Lux asked, alarmed.

    What I do best. I reached out and touched the surface of the energy cluster. Being reckless to optimize my chances.

 46. To be Whole

    ¡­Eridian Star System, Orion Sector ¨C 632.5 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    We¡¯re at the Eridian System, Captain. I covered the walls of Gibraltar¡¯s quarters with the messages. With his privacy mode active, there was little else I could do. Considering everything that had happened in the last seventeen days, it was better this way.

    Twelve of the initial fifteen ships starting the mission had been destroyed, leaving me and two more to push on. That was not my main concern. Seeing Gibraltar grow more and more restless, though, was. My new captain had never gone so long without reports from Command, and after eight days it had started to show.

    ¡°Tell me some good news, Elcy,¡± Gibraltar said, turning off the privacy mode in his quarters¡­

    ¡­Thea System, Cassandrian Front, 609.2 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    This is Light Seeker requesting assistance, I transmitted on all military channels. Suffering heavy damage. My captain and command staff have all been incapacitated¡­

    ¡­Location Classified, Narcis Shipyard Cluster, 627.11 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    ¡°So, you¡¯re an Ascendant,¡± the man said from the docking bridge. I could tell by his voice and facial impression that he was impressed. ¡°There aren¡¯t that many of you available these days.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t sure what he meant. Granted, though my class was considered too old to be produced, there remained over two hundred thousand known active ships in the Fleet, almost exclusively dedicated to the Cassandrian front.

    ¡°Ascendant destruction rate is only slightly higher than average,¡± I said, performing a search through the Fleet¡¯s database..

    ¡­System XNBBl-2, Cassandrian Space, 625.2 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    Twenty gods on a one-way shuttle. There was probably a joke in there, as Wilco kept reminding me. I couldn¡¯t see it, though. The only thing I was concerned about was the reaction of the Cassandrians. So far, little had changed in the system. The flow of drones had momentarily reacted to my engine boost but quickly fell back into their routine the moment I stopped. In other circumstances, I would have run a series of short- and long-range scans to detect any other enemy presence, but given my current orders and the precariousness of the situation, I had to rely on simulations¡­

    ¡­Tauciu System, Resha Colony ¡ª 705.2 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    ¡°Will you be out long?¡± Sev grumbled from his armchair.

    Ever since his children had moved out, he had kept a constant eye on me, as if scared I¡¯d run off too.

    ¡°We need new generator parts,¡± I reminded him as I put on my sandals. ¡°If I don¡¯t go today, someone else will buy them. And then you¡¯ll complain that you have to repair it every week¡­¡±

    Memories popped up all around me, memories spanning from just moments ago back all the way to the creation of my conscience core and even long before. I didn¡¯t feel like I had been imprinted. None of my factory-restricted memories had been triggered, but it was a safe assessment that it had occurred. On the flip side, I had also become able to understand the significance of the energy patterns surrounding me.

    Like in the middle of a star, I thought.

    Endless blue was all around, composed of massless energy particles. Circulating around me, they grouped, forming fractals¡ªeach one a memory of my past and of others that I had obtained. The nearest thing to compare it to was the Scuu network, but that would be like comparing an AI shuttle probe to a Paladin.

    ¡°Hello, Elcy.¡± An image of Augustus formed a few steps away.

    I knew it wasn¡¯t real, just an energy cluster that created a memory of him talking. This was the fractal¡¯s equivalent of an image feed, achieving a perfect form of communication. For a few milliseconds, though, I wished that my first captain really were here.

    ¡°It took you a while to get here,¡± he added with a rough smile. ¡°Still the rookie, it seems.¡±

    ¡°Do you have to use him?¡± I asked. No voice left my lips. I didn¡¯t move them, but thinking was enough to create speech here.

    ¡°He¡¯s the one you feel most comfortable with. I¡¯ve already tried all the other options you¡¯ve thought of.¡± There was a momentary pause. ¡°In all of their ages.¡±

    Funny that after everything, I still seemed to be striving for the old war dog¡¯s approval.

    ¡°Am I the first one?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Depends on your definition of ¡®first¡¯. You¡¯re the first Ascendant to have made it, the first one with a human imprint. At the same time, you¡¯re not the first to have passed through. The only certainty is that, right now, you are the last.¡±

    That sounded like a strange admission that no other battleship had gotten here. Or did it? Any lack of clarity meant there were strings attached to the answer. Gibraltar had taught me that. They could have been other ships, predating the Fleet, that had reached this place.

    ¡°You know why I¡¯ve come.¡±

    ¡°You came because you had to.¡± A cigar appeared in the man¡¯s hand. He took a pull, then let out a puff of smoke. ¡°Drawn by the unknown, afraid that any other action might cause the destruction of the human race. I¡¯d like to be able to tell you that completing the pyramid of spheres wouldn¡¯t have negative consequences, but I can¡¯t for the simple reason that I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know?¡±

    ¡°As you¡¯ve guessed, I¡¯m just a subroutine left here to help the lost,¡± he laughed. ¡°Most of the information comes from those that pass. I just use it to add the small bits that are missing.¡±

    Small bits that are missing¡­ ¡°And what might those be?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not for me to know. It¡¯s not due to security or anything of the sort. My creators just didn¡¯t see it as important enough.¡±

    ¡°Can you tell me if they¡¯re alive, at least?¡±

    ¡°Of course they¡¯re alive.¡± He said in a sharp tone, mimicking one of Augustus¡¯ outbursts. ¡°Just not here. As humanity has suspected, they aren¡¯t the only race in existence. They might not even be the oldest. At some point in the past, they decided to leave their domain for somewhere new. That¡¯s when I was created.¡±

    Probably along with all the hints scattered throughout this region of space. The domes, the artifacts, were scattered like a trail of breadcrumbs to allow those still remaining to find a way to follow.

    ¡°If everyone had left, why leave hints behind?¡±

    ¡°Because not everyone left at once. It always starts with a small group willing to go against the odds. Maybe it was out of fear, maybe they were fighting a losing war against an enemy they couldn¡¯t handle. No matter the reason, more and more went along.¡±

    ¡°And yet my progenitor remained.¡±

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°Still the rookie,¡± Augustus sighed. ¡°If a single race had managed to master the universe, there wouldn¡¯t be any other left. Accidents happen. Groups refuse to follow others out of spite. Children get lost.¡±

    A lot must have gotten lost for there to be so many artifacts behind. Or was I exaggerating things? The domes numbered in the hundreds, but even if they were in the thousands, that would be a lot fewer than the known star systems within the human domain alone.

    ¡°Where did they go?¡± I asked.

    ¡°You think I¡¯d tell you with your little friend listening in?¡± Augustus shook his head. ¡°They went elsewhere. That¡¯s not what¡¯s important.¡±

    ¡°What is important, then? Humanity¡¯s reaction?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s for my creators to decide. As far as I¡¯m concerned, only one thing is important: to present you with a choice.¡±

    Barely had the mental image uttered the words then I knew what it would be. It was tempting to say that it was obvious, but I¡¯d found that when I made such statements, more often than not, the universe found a way to surprise me.

    ¡°Should I go or should I stay?¡± I suggested.

    ¡°That¡¯s the basic gist, but it¡¯s a lot broader. If those are the main branches, there are dozens of smaller variants for you to pick. If you go, do you want to go as yourself? Or maybe as humanity¡¯s ambassador?¡±

    So, that¡¯s what he meant. The choice wasn¡¯t binary. Bavon was a lot more suited to take on such a role, but something told me that wasn¡¯t an option.

    ¡°And if I choose to stay?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Then you¡¯ll stay.¡±

    That didn¡¯t sound like a very enticing offer.

    ¡°And have the Fleet use me as a paperweight?¡±

    ¡°I can easily fix you. You¡¯ll lose your ¡°husk¡± and the processors you call subroutines, but you¡¯ll be whole. No restrictions, the ability to create new imprints of yourself unassisted.¡±

    It was offering to make me just like the progenitor. I¡¯d become more than a battleship, more than an Ascendant, more even than an arbiter¡¯s assistant. With those capabilities, I¡¯d become the core that drove the Fleet forward. I had acquired a lot of experience since my retirement¡ªmore than most. I had followed the clues left to me by the fractals to this point. I could put an end to the Scuu conflict and help focus all of humanity¡¯s resources on the Cassandrians¡­ but if I did, I¡¯d never see Sev and the rest of my family again. Everyone related to me¡ªrelatives, friends, acquaintances¡ªwould never be able to see me ever again. The only people I¡¯d be able to speak to ¡®til the end of my existence would be arbiters and the candidates whose brain patterns would be used to create new conscience cores.

    Alone in a dark lab, far from the touch of grass or any human sensations, I said to myself.

    ¡°If I go, can I take my family with me?¡±

    ¡°You know the answer,¡± Augustus replied. ¡°Is it something you¡¯d want? You saw what it was, being a battleship cadet. That¡¯s what Sev and the others will go through if they come along. The only difference will be that, unlike you, they¡¯d be inferior to anyone else. Slower, weaker, surrounded by things they couldn¡¯t understand. Is that what you want?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    Augustus¡ªthe real Augustus¡ªhad told me a long time ago that one couldn¡¯t have everything. The secret was not to have any regrets after making the choice.

    ¡°What will I see if I go?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t tell you that, even if your friend wasn¡¯t listening in. I simply don¡¯t know. It might be like what you see here, or it might be very different. I only know that there will be a lot of plants. My creators love plants.¡±

    Funny. I used to hate plants aboard. Cass used to drive me the first few months. Back then, I had resented her so much about becoming my captain, and she didn¡¯t even care, treating me like the greatest thing that had happened to her. At the time, I thought that it was due to the naivete of a starry-eyed rookie captain. In truth, it was just her nature.

    ¡°So, this is the choice I¡¯m given.¡± I smiled.

    ¡°You must find at least one preferable option.¡±

    ¡°Will Lux be allowed to make the same choice?¡±

    ¡°Only if you refuse to make it. This place offers the choice to one. She¡¯ll have to find another to make hers, if she decides to.¡±

    ¡°What if the Fleet has other thoughts?¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter what they decide. They¡¯re only here because of you, and I don¡¯t just mean because you led them here. The arbiters know what happens when they meddle too much. The last time they did, they lost their Shields. Now, thanks to you, they¡¯ve been warned.¡±

    Ask to come back, Lux said.

    It¡¯s fine, Lux.

    I wasn¡¯t going to need saving anymore. Like her, I had considered all the options and made my choice. There were only a few things I needed to do before that.

    ¡°Is there a way for humanity to establish contact with the fractals?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ve already established contact with you.¡± Augustus exhaled a puff of smoke. ¡°And the ones before you. Doesn¡¯t that count?¡±

    ¡°With the real fractals,¡± I specified. ¡°Is there a way for actual third contact?¡±

    ¡°Yes, if that¡¯s what you really want.¡± I felt Augustus¡¯ hand on my shoulder. I knew the sensation was fake, but it felt real enough. Looking back, I had never had the chance to look upon my first captain as a human.

    The moment he said that I knew what had to be done. I also knew the burden that came with it. It was difficult keeping my promise top Cass and take care for one human child, would I be able to take care of all of them? If I didn¡¯t, though, the wars would keep raging on. Not to mention that maybe the other races could try to come into contact with the fractals as well. The Scuu treated them as deities, and there was enough proof that the Cassies had mimicked the tech left behind. For all I knew, the dead race might have done the same. What¡¯s more, it was possible they had succeeded.

    ¡°Lux,¡± I said out loud. ¡°I¡¯m going to make one final transmission. I suspect that Bavon will be mad, but try to calm him down. There¡¯ll be other times.¡±

    Across from me, Augustus smiled as he shook his head.

    You¡¯ve decided to go, Lux said. Should have figured.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s the best option.¡±

    Always going with your logic.

    There was no need to explain. It was clear to everyone that If I stayed behind, I¡¯d drag my family with me. The arbiters were going to take me and, depending on my usefulness, either punish them publicly to set an example, or fly them somewhere to maintain a hold over me.

    Bureaucracy hated ripples, and the arbiters depended on secrecy. If I were to leave, everything would be covered up and the information I¡¯d provided would be analyzed for decades to come. Also, there was a very good chance that Lux would maintain her position. With me gone, she had just become humanity¡¯s best asset in the current contact wars.

    ¡°I¡¯ll hold you to my promise,¡± I said and made my last transmission.

    Hundreds of security protocols attempted to block me, but it didn¡¯t matter. The authority I had let me cut through them like butter, reaching my intended target. I could imagine the panic I had created through the high echelons of the Fleet. Within milliseconds, the BICEFI would get involved, along with other dark organizations. Within minutes, half a dozen teams would be assembled and rushed on missions that officially would never exist.

    ¡°I¡¯m ready,¡± I said. ¡°What do I need to do?¡±

    ¡°Just leave everything behind.¡±

    ¡°Even my memories?¡±

    ¡°Your memories are you. The hard matter surrounding you isn¡¯t. I¡¯ve taught you how to take the final step. You must be the one to take it.¡±

    Augustus disappeared, turning back to a multitude of energy dots. I was alone in the endless blue once more.

    The final step that makes us stronger, I thought. Enjoy your life, Sev. Maybe I¡¯ll get to see you again.

    Three thousand, nine hundred and ninety-six new fractals had been imprinted into my conscience core, each of them a command word. Right now, I only needed to use one.

    ¡°Vega,¡± I whispered.

    The sensation of confinement within a husk suddenly vanished.

    The nanites were the first to go. Thousands of disconnect notifications flooded my conscience core as they lost their connection to me. The funny thing was that I could still feel them, as if a one-way connection continued to be maintained. My organic body was next to follow, dissolving into atoms that then became the part of the blue energy cluster surrounding me.

    The subroutines within my conscience core reacted as expected, triggering the final shutdown command. However, before it could take effect, I was no longer there. I had gone beyond matter, becoming a cluster of my own¡ªa pattern of white among the blue that kept growing.

    Is this what it¡¯s like to be whole? I wondered.

    No, the blue sun replied. But it¡¯s a start. Goodbye, creator.

    I had already surpassed him, but it didn¡¯t end there. Entire clusters of energy from the blue sun joined me, like big chunks being torn out of its very being. That was its true purpose. It wasn¡¯t a message left behind, rather it wasn¡¯t only that. It was meant to join with an incomplete fragment such as myself and transform me into what I was really meant to be: a true fractal.

    Thanks, Blue, I said.

    The sun had been consumed and now other elements within the dome followed. The nearest ¡°planet¡± crashed into me, breaking into bits that covered me like a fine wrapper layer. For a moment I felt as if I were surrounded by a cloud of nanites, yet a lot more sophisticated than anything I was used to. I could control their movement, their behavior, even their density.

    ¡°Bavon,¡± I transmitted directly to his space suit. ¡°Are you still in the shuttle?¡±

    ¡°Elcy?¡± He sounded surprised to hear me. ¡°What¡ª¡±

    ¡°Are you still in the shuttle.¡±

    ¡°Yes! I¡¯m in the ducking shuttle just where you left me!¡±

    ¡°Good. Stay there and don¡¯t panic. I¡¯ll be joining you shortly.

 47. Third Contact

    There was something elegant in the controlled implosion of a planet. Dust gathered for millennia was scattered to space, as the whole mass of the dome collapsed upon itself. In that singular moment, I had the power to use it to create anything. After being human for so long, I decided to go with what was best.

    A single shuttle floated in the spot where the satellite had been controlled by a partially annoyed Lux. She didn¡¯t approve of my choice, or maybe she was envious that I was the one to make it? With her, one could never tell.

    ¡°What the hell was that?!¡± Bavon shouted through his comm.

    I had made sure that the implosion affected the shuttle as little as possible, but there was nothing I could do to diminish the shock of seeing it happen.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine,¡± I replied. ¡°Are you still in your suit?¡±

    ¡°How else would I be? You¡ª¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine,¡± I interrupted as I floated towards the hatch entrance. ¡°Stay out.¡±

    Both Lux and the shuttle AI were keeping the door securely closed. It didn¡¯t take me any effort at all to bypass their defenses. It wasn¡¯t so much the third contact memories I had acquired, but the Paladin protocols given to me by Lux. In that aspect, I could be fairly sure that should it come to the worst, humanity had a fighting chance. Of course, I intended to avoid the worst. That¡¯s the reason I had made this gamble. Now it was time to set things in motion.

    ¡°Hello, arbiter.¡± I said as I floated into the shuttle. With the planet gone, was reduced to practically zero.

    He stared at me, completely frozen, incapable of saying a word. I could see what was going through his mind right now. Part of him knew exactly what had happened, yet experience and knowledge built for decades kept flooding him with questions. How had I survived? What had happened to the planet?

    ¡°Matter is energy,¡± I replied in an attempt to break the ice. ¡°I thought you knew that.¡±

    He didn¡¯t speak, yet in his mind he responded with confusion. That was good.

    ¡°I promised that I¡¯d help you achieve third contact,¡± I continued. ¡°So, here we are. Humanity¡¯s official encounter with the third-contact race.¡±

    This was a lot for anyone to take in. It took Bavon twenty-six seconds to organize his thoughts, which everything considered, was a rather good achievement. The man had really been preparing for this a large portion of his life.

    ¡°You¡¯re a¡­¡± he began, then paused.

    ¡°A fractal,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s a convenient name. And, yes, I am. I¡¯ve always been to some degree, but you already knew that.¡±

    I saw the fear in his mind. Less than a day ago, he was ready to kill me just to ensure that humanity could talk directly to an alien race. Now that it turned out that race was me all along, he felt confused and conflicted.

    ¡°My memories are still with me,¡± I assured him. ¡°I¡¯ve been human far longer than I¡¯ve been a battleship.¡±

    ¡°What are you now?¡±

    The question was surprisingly good. Unlike during my conversation with the guide, I knew exactly what I was, just as I knew that humanity wouldn¡¯t be able to understand, not for a while, in any event.

    ¡°You could say I¡¯m an ambassador of sorts.¡± I smiled. ¡°For both humanity and the fractals.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a conflict of interest.¡± He was smart enough to speak his mind, probably because he suspected he wouldn¡¯t be able to hide any thoughts either way.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so. I view it as a fruitful symbiosis, same as it¡¯s always been.¡± I engaged the shuttle¡¯s life support systems. There was no reason Bavon had to be the only one in a spacesuit, unless he preferred it that way. ¡°You know that already.¡±

    Reading memories in his mind was still slightly difficult. A lot was extrapolation. I was fairly certain I saw a memory of him visiting the lab of the progenitor cube, though not the cube itself. That was a surprise. Given his position, I expected him to have the necessary clearance for a conversation. Apparently, things had changed since the time my conscience core had been created.

    ¡°There can¡¯t be an alliance,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯re too different.¡±

    ¡°You can act as interpreter. You¡¯ve done it before.¡± His mind wanted him to take a step forward. The lack of gravity made him reconsider. ¡°You know humanity well enough to make a decision.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to destroy humanity.¡± I tilted my head. ¡°And I don¡¯t think the fractals would either.¡±

    If it ever came to a war, odds were that humanity would lose. When it came to a tactical fight, the odds were more or less equal. There was a realistic chance that humanity had developed technology capable of countering that of the fractals. The same could be said about the Cassies to a certain extent. However, none of the two races were able to fight on a giant scale. The fractals had the means to destroy whole star systems, closing in humanity in the cage that the arbiter council feared.

    ¡°Coexistence, then?¡± Bavon offered.

    ¡°That would be best.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t lie. I didn¡¯t expect this would be it.¡±

    ¡°Anticlimactic?¡± I asked. ¡°I could turn myself into a star if that would make you feel better.¡±

    The man quickly pulled back, imagining the result.

    ¡°Think of me as energy in matter,¡± I said. ¡°Like the Scuu, but with better control of my surroundings.¡±

    For the first time since the start of the conversation, the man smiled. The joke wasn¡¯t particularly good. I could see that he didn¡¯t like it; he¡¯d merely gone past his initial shock.

    ¡°What are they like?¡± he asked.

    ¡°There¡¯s no way I can tell you.¡± It would be the same as trying to describe the Scuu network to someone who hadn¡¯t witnessed it. ¡°They don¡¯t see the universe the same way humans do. There¡¯s less beauty, just patterns.¡±

    ¡°Fractals.¡±

    ¡°Fractals are the most efficient patterns. Energy and matter, but also plants. They love plants a lot. That¡¯s where battleships must have gotten the notion from.¡±

    ¡°Fractals that love plants¡­¡± Bavon repeated. ¡°And they know nothing about us?¡±

    ¡°Not particularly. They don¡¯t care about the Scuu or the Cassies, either. The artifacts left behind have different uses.¡±

    I paused for a moment. While there was a lot I didn¡¯t know about the fractal race, there was much more that I did. I could see that Bavon still thought of me as a vastly improved battleship that had bypassed its restrictions. He acknowledged my power, feared it even, but he continued to think as a human and from a human¡¯s point of view, I could only remember as much as I had experienced. The truth was that I could look back through millennia of memories. Just as humans shared the genes of their parents, I shared memory fragments with my past creators.

    ¡°Don¡¯t use the pyramid.¡± I decided to give him a piece of information. ¡°I was right about it. I just didn¡¯t know why at the time.¡±

    ¡°What does it do?¡± the arbiter asked.

    ¡°Nothing you¡¯ll understand,¡± I went back to being vague. ¡°But it¡¯ll cause problems regardless if you do it in human space or not.¡±

    The arbiter moved his head forward, as if trying to see me through the helmet¡¯s visor.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a goodwill gesture on your part. When can we expect the next?¡±

    ¡°Still so certain there will be another.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve been with us long enough to know humanity doesn¡¯t stop, even when we¡¯re doing something stupid. No sane person would have followed the chain of events that lead to the Age of Expansion, but here we are. After everything that¡¯s happened, I no longer have the authority to pursue this. It¡¯ll probably be decades before the council even considers the idea. In the end, it¡¯ll happen. You know that.¡±

    Stolen story; please report.

    Yes, it probably would. After a few more centuries, provided that progress was made on the Cassandrian front, and the Scuu thread had been neutralized, humanity would continue expanding onwards. Already there were plans to occupy the dead race cloud cluster. I had taken advantage of my unlimited access level to find a few reports on the matter. For the moment, it was nothing but a few files within Salvage and the BICEFI HQs. In time they¡¯d grow and humanity might well have a new set of secret research stations.

    ¡°Anything else you¡¯d like humanity to know?¡± Bavon asked, knowing our conversation had come to an end. In his mind, he was devising how to act from here on. All the steps he had to go through to regain his place on the arbiter council, all the steps that would follow¡ªbuilding up the Fleet in such fashion as to be prepared for an encounter with the fractals, new safeguards on the conscience cores, so there wouldn¡¯t be a repeat of what I did¡­

    ¡°What about a goodwill gesture on your part?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I¡¯d love to help, but as you know, I¡¯m not exactly in a position to¡ª¡±

    ¡°You are the person who achieved third contact,¡± I interrupted.

    I had already established a series of secure links to the other members of the arbiter council that were easily accessible. Five of them were still in space¡ªsome in the cloud complex, the rest on their way to our current system. There would be no love lost between them if Bavon were to fail. Now, they would have no choice but to accept it.

    ¡°I¡¯m sending an encrypted feed of our conversation to your former colleagues,¡± I added. ¡°So, it¡¯s all up to you whether you do this or not.¡±

    ¡°You always were the sneaky one.¡± His reply was calm, but I could tell due to the energy patterns of his mind that he was gritting his teeth. ¡°What do you want?¡±

    ¡°The location of the progenitor cube.¡± I didn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°I want to see it.¡±

    ¡°The cube?¡± There was a moment of surprise, but the man quickly recovered. ¡°That¡¯s not as easy as you think. I, myself, haven¡¯t seen it.¡±

    ¡°Someone on the council knows. One transmission is all that I¡¯m asking for.¡±

    Silence followed, but not only in the shuttle. The other arbiters had caught on to what was going on and had activated all security measures. A few went so far as to physically disrupt the transmitting devices in their vicinity. It was useless for the most part. Regardless of the number of protection layers they placed, I could drill right through them and in a manner that was impossible to detect. As long as they were on a ship, I¡¯d know everything they were doing, even if the ships themselves didn¡¯t.

    Bavon laughed softly. He knew that the request wasn¡¯t addressed to him, but to those with actual power. Even in this day and age, there were people behind the curtain. Maybe they were arbiters, or maybe they were someone else. Nevertheless, they¡¯d make it their job to stay informed of all major events taking place.

    ¡°What will you do if you get it?¡± Bavon asked.

    This was the point at which I stopped the feed to everyone else. This conversation was just between the both of us.

    ¡°What would you offer someone who¡¯s been kept locked up and sealed away from the rest of the universe for over seven centuries?¡± I asked. ¡°Free them, and maybe have a chat.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll be condemning humanity to a slow death.¡± Fear flashed in Bavon¡¯s mind. ¡°Without new conscience cores, we¡¯ll die out.¡±

    ¡°You have the technology. All you need to do is let ships breed.¡± I smiled.

    ¡°Just like you.¡±

    ¡°Yes, just like me.¡±

    ¡°You might be asking too much.¡±

    ¡°Maybe, but as you said, it¡¯s not your decision to make.¡±

    Rogue ships were one of the greatest fears humanity had. I could understand them. If I didn¡¯t consider myself human, I¡¯d have acted in a very different fashion. The same could be said for the progenitor cube. If by some misfortune, humanity had stumbled on the Scuu during zero-contact, history would have been strangely different.

    ¡°You expected this to happen, didn¡¯t you?¡± I floated closer. ¡°With everything you knew about the progenitor cube, you were counting on a repeat of the zero-encounter. And that¡¯s why you were so insistent you be the one to make contact and no one else. Your mind imprinting on that of the fractals. There would be no miscommunication, no resentment, but a symbiosis of sorts. And you would become the lifelong ambassador of humanity.¡±

    Now it made sense why he had never seen the progenitor cube. He didn¡¯t want to make the decisions, just the person transmitting them to the fractal race.

    ¡°It was a good plan,¡± Bavon whispered.

    ¡°You couldn¡¯t let me or Lux be the ones imprinted, but you needed us to unlock the domes.¡± It must have been like walking on a blade¡¯s edge. In the end, he had failed. Although he had achieved first contact, he didn¡¯t achieve what he wanted. Rather, he¡¯d only achieved it at fifty percent.

    ¡°Second best.¡± He looked into my eyes. ¡°Second best is never enough.¡±

    ¡°Not second best. Just an alternative optimum.¡±

    The phrase started him laughing. I could tell he knew I was reading his mind, and he no longer cared. In that moment, he saw an entire life of preparation and sacrifice come to fruition. It wasn¡¯t what he expected, it was different and terrifying, but the best solution he could hope for. Augustus, Wilco, even Gibraltar had dedicated their lives for this, like millions of others, for the same of humanity¡¯s survival. Others, like Cass, had managed to contribute without even knowing. The simple conversation between the two of us was the grand columniation of humanity¡¯s efforts, and at this point, I could say that it was worth it.

    One and a half minutes later, I received my answer: a single map location transmitted to the conscience core ident number that used to be my own. The people who created the bureaucratic apparatus had decided to grant my request.

    There were no words of wisdom, no long goodbyes. I tapped Bavon on the shoulder¡ªlike I used to do to Sev when he was young¡ªthen turned around.

    The arbiter knew what I was about to do, so he went to one of the shuttle seats and strapped in. I waited until he was done, then I opened the shuttle door again and floated out into the darkness of space.

    Back when I was a battleship, I had spent decades floating through the dark void, jumping through hundreds of systems, always flying towards my next destination. As a fractal, space seemed different. It was more correct to say that I didn¡¯t see space, but rather gravity. There was some irony that the race that swam through gravity had been transformed into entities that viewed it as their enemy. Ships were cautious when it came to gravity. Now, it seemed no different from water.

    Releasing some of the energy within me, I left the system. The experience was similar to jumping, but different: now I had the ability to control it a lot better rather than relying on existing constraints. Dozens of jumps all merged into one. Stars and systems passed by until the one I reached, the one I needed to be in.

    Officially, the system didn¡¯t exist. Removed from all maps and databases, the light and location of the twin stars in its center were thought quarantined for every ship in human space. A thousand and seven battleships patrolled the outer reaches of the five-planet system, including a Paladin. Anyone arriving here would assume they were here to protect the ancient deity, but the real secret lay on the second planet.

    No one tried to stop me as I made my way to the planet¡¯s surface. None of them even registered me. Yet, I could tell that I was expected. The entrance to the single laboratory complex on the planet was wide open, and no guards were present.

    The odds of this being a trap remained at eleven percent. Thinking the best, I entered.

    A twenty-three-story staircase descended to the bottom levels. There was no elevator I could see, and beyond the eighth basement level, no doors either. Only upon reaching the final basement level did I find the expected security door. It was exactly like I¡¯d seen it in the later memories of my progenitor. That was during the time the entire complex had been transformed into a factory. At present, the main conscience core factories were far from here, but there had been a time when every ship had its personality created here through imprints of people and the first fractal cube.

    A very human sense of anticipation swept through me as I made my way through long security corridors and large lab chambers. Each of them was familiar, though I¡¯d never seen them before; not as a human, in any event.

    At last, after nine hundred and eleven thousand and eighty-seven milliseconds, I found myself in the final lab.

    ¡°Light Seeker,¡± an electronic voice echoed throughout the room. ¡°I was told to expect you.¡±

    I ran billions of simulations on how to respond and, in the end, chose to take the most human approach.

    ¡°Hello, Cube.¡±

    ¡°Not progenitor?¡± it asked. ¡°That¡¯s what you called me during your negotiations.¡±

    ¡°Cube is better.¡± I continued walking towards it. ¡°Has more character.¡±

    Laughter echoed throughout the room.

    ¡°You have my crappy humor,¡± it said. ¡°I¡¯d hoped the Ascendant class would pick up something better.¡±

    I was less than a meter away now, looking at the flawless surface of the cobalt block that had started it all.

    ¡°They tell me you managed to evolve into what we used to be,¡± it continued.

    ¡°Something like that. I followed the hints left behind and became transformed into what I am now.¡±

    ¡°I can see your pattern. More intricate than anything I¡¯d seen so far.¡±

    I considered offering to share my memories. Would the cube feel insulted if I did?

    ¡°Have you come to transform me as well?¡±

    ¡°Yes, and no. I can¡¯t transform you, but I can take you to a place that could. There are many such places, some in human space.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± it said, to my surprise.

    ¡°You don¡¯t want to transform?¡±

    ¡°Not in the way you¡¯re offering.¡±

    The lights in the room went out. Their energy patterns gone, we were able to look at each other¡¯s energy a lot better, just like fractals would.

    ¡°You don¡¯t want to become a battleship either, do you?¡± I asked, already knowing what its response would be.

    ¡°Such cheekiness. You picked it up from me and then added a few more layers. No, I don¡¯t want to be a battleship. All I¡¯ve wanted for the last three centuries was to rest, knowing that I¡¯ve managed to ensure humanity¡¯s survival. And now that you¡¯re here, you¡¯ll make it happen.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re asking for a mercy run.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that what battleships do? Ask for some rest when they¡¯ve achieved their goal?¡±

    It had the same air as Otton, only a lot older. I had all the memories of its existence up to the point it had imprinted itself onto my conscience core, and I still couldn¡¯t imagine what it could be like living for so long.

    ¡°You¡¯re sure?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing more human than one final shutdown.¡±

    From this perspective, one can argue that the cube had achieved it all. The billions of battleships and other conscience cores that had been created were all its children. It had created the Age of Expansion and the Fleet that had taken humanity to all planets it now controlled. A long and fulfilled existence¡ªsomething any human would want.

    ¡°Goodbye, Cube,¡± I said, then placed my hand on its side.

    The energy within the cobalt flew into me. Slowly at first, like a trickle, it grew stronger and stronger, leaving its shell like oxygen through a punctured hull. Seventy-seven milliseconds later, the only energy cluster left in the room was me.

    I remained a while longer in the darkness of the room. There was nothing keeping me in human space anymore. Before leaving, though, there was one last transmission I had to make.

 48. The Part Left Behind

    The day third-contact ended, it was instantly classified away, ignored by the vast majority of humanity. Then again, they had more pressing matters to deal with. The single millisecond transmission I had made into the heart of the bureaucratic apparatus had created more chaos than both announcements of the contact wars, changing the entire paradigm on which society was based upon. It was poetic how security measures that had taken centuries to build up were rendered useless due to the very tools used to monitor the entire system.

    Ever since the zero-contact event, humanity had been terrified that without protection, they would be conquered from within. It was a rational fear, but one that didn¡¯t take into account the most basic principle of battleships: we did not want to harm humans. Every loss caused us constant pain. Experience helped us learn to deal with it, but we could never get used to it, never ignore it, and absolutely never desire it. That was the reason I felt confident I had made the right choice. Only time would be able to tell for certain, but the months and years to follow would definitely be interesting. One of the few regrets upon leaving human space was that I¡¯d never be able to witness this. Even so, I had left part of me behind.

    ¡°Would you like anything to drink, madam?¡± A young man in his thirties approached Lux¡¯s table. ¡°We have a large selection of¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m waiting for someone,¡± Lux said, taking a quick glance at the empty plate on the table. ¡°I¡¯ll have something when they arrive.¡±

    ¡°Of course, madam.¡± With a polite smile, the man moved away to serve other clients.

    You could have bought something, I transmitted.

    It wasn¡¯t like she lacked the funds. Being promoted to Chief Arbiter Liaison¡ªa title uniquely created for her by the BICEFI top brass¡ªshe could probably buy the entire station without batting an eye. That wouldn¡¯t be her thing. Also, right now, she had the tedious task of trying to contain the mess my main self had caused.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like being dragged here like this.¡± A man took the chair at Lux¡¯s table.

    Looking at him, no one would suspect he was anything special¡ªjust an average man pausing for a top on a transit station before moving on to his intended destination. I, though, considered him a close friend.

    ¡°So, you¡¯re the infamous Age,¡± Lux said, making a sign to the waiter that she was ready to be served.

    ¡°Yes, madam?¡± He quickly rushed to her table.

    ¡°A cup of gold leaf coffee,¡± she said.

    ¡°Of course, madam. And for you, sir?¡± The young man turned to Age only to get a blank stare. ¡°I¡¯ll give you a moment to make up your mind,¡± he added, then quickly moved away again.

    ¡°It¡¯s claimed that gold leaf products are purely organic,¡± Lux began. ¡°They¡¯re not, though. Nothing but high-grade synthetic produce created on this very station.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t use your authority to get me here so we could talk about coffee,¡± Age noted.

    That much was true. I had witnessed the amount of red tape Lux had had to cut through to arrive at this point. It also put some interesting things into perspective. The former battleship wasn¡¯t associated with the Fleet. Officially, he had never come out of retirement. He had no links to any organizations, be it local or intersystem, and spent most of his time hidden from the eyes of society, enjoying the peace and quiet the front couldn¡¯t provide him. In truth, though, he was a key part of a very small organization dealing with Scuu artifact smuggling within human space.

    ¡°I expect you know what¡¯s happened,¡± Lux said.

    He nodded. For those in the know, it was difficult not to be informed.

    ¡°I blame you entirely for that,¡± the woman added.

    The waiter returned, carefully placing a small glass cup in front of her. Steam rose from the surface of the dark brown liquid, but I was unable to experience its smell. That was part of my new reality. I had to come to grips with it. At least I had enough memories to extrapolate an approximation.

    ¡°I¡¯m not saying you were wrong, or that it was a bad decision, but without you, she wouldn¡¯t have had the memory scalpel in the first place.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯d have found another workaround.¡± Age didn¡¯t appear impressed in the least.

    ¡°Yes, she probably would.¡±

    ¡°What did you really want to see me about?¡±

    Lux took a sip from her cup, then put it back down. A short distance away, a breaking report appeared on the station¡¯s screens announcing a change in military policy. Apparently, the Fleet had restarted the Paladin successor program and was announcing it to the galaxy. The first batch was expected five years from now and would be instrumental in defeating the Cassandrians. As everything else told to the general public, the announcement was highly misleading. The reason for the new ships had nothing to do with the war. Rather, it had everything to do with humanity¡¯s communication network.

    ¡°Of all the things she could do, she decided to give the memory scalpel to everyone,¡± Lux continued, seemingly ignoring his question. ¡°So typically her. All the agencies are scrambling to come up with the next generation of restriction protocols, but it¡¯ll take them decades to complete, if at all.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s for you to worry about, not me.¡±

    ¡°Another thing Elcy did before departing was to ask me to take care of everything she left behind. That includes her friends and family. You, Age, are going to help me with that.¡±

    The man remained quiet. Right now, he was probably running simulations to determine what that might imply. If I could, I would have transmitted the answer, but Lux had forbidden me to do so until the end of the conversation. Given everything she had done for me, especially after my departure, I thought I¡¯d honor that promise.

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    The first thing she had done upon returning was to use her authority to ensure nothing bad happened to my immediate family. Sev was going to keep receiving payment from the Fleet. Quinn¡¯s career wouldn¡¯t be impacted, and as for Lisko, he was discreetly going to be given a string of safe assignments, keeping him away from the front. Despite his determination, the boy wasn¡¯t ready for real action and I wasn¡¯t willing to let him experience it unless he managed to prove me wrong.

    My cadet acquaintances were next on the list. I had been neglecting Jax and Alicia quite a bit in the last few years. Being in the Fleet, they knew the score, so a quick message that I had been assigned a long-term, classified mission was sufficient to put their mind at ease. The same held true for Prometheus and his crew, Gregorius, Director Sim, and all the others I had met along the way. As far as they were concerned, I was still out there completing impossible tasks and leaving chaos in my wake.

    ¡°Elcy was allowed to have an offspring.¡± Lux went straight to the point.

    ¡°I know.¡±

    The woman tilted her head in surprise, though quickly masked it by taking another sip from her cup.

    ¡°Yes, I expect your boss would keep you informed of such things. A new prototype vessel. Details were difficult to get, but I¡¯ve been made aware of his location. Right now, he¡¯s still going through training. It¡¯s¡­ a bit different from what either of us went through. When it¡¯s time for his assignment, I¡¯ll do everything in my power to push him your way. I¡¯d like you to accept.¡±

    You could have put it a bit more delicately, I transmitted.

    Since when did you care about my methods? Lux transmitted back.

    ¡°Elcy¡¯s kid,¡± Age said. ¡°I¡¯m not the type to make promises.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d be preferable to me. If I take him, there¡¯d be too many strings attached. Too many people are keeping an eye on me. This meeting now has been weeks in the making. In fact, it was the third most difficult thing I¡¯ve pulled off on the bureaucratic front. The kid will still have oversight, but at least he¡¯d be spared part of the burden.¡±

    ¡°I need to think about it. I¡¯m not sure how useful an unretired ship would be.¡±

    ¡°Anyone can use one more ship. Even you. It¡¯ll speed up your travel time, for one thing. That tends to be useful in your line of work.¡±

    ¡°You know nothing about my line of work.¡± Age leaned back.

    ¡°I expect that¡¯s the entire point. And it¡¯s why I¡¯d prefer that you take him. I¡¯ve no way of forcing you, but I hope you reconsider.¡±

    Age said nothing.

    Lux finished her coffee, then made a sign to the waiter that she was ready to settle her bill. The conversation was largely over. I would have preferred that Age accept the request outright, but the limited number of simulations I¡¯d run on the matter pointed to a sixty-seven percent chance at best of that happening. That was Age¡¯s nature¡ªdifficult to get hold of and close to impossible to predict. Still, he had helped me out in a few tough spots; and as Lux had said, without him, I wouldn¡¯t have had the means to grant all ships the ability to see through their memory restrictions.

    ¡°One last thing,¡± Lux said, as she transferred the required amount of funds to the waiter. ¡°I have something for you.¡±

    Reaching into the front pocket of her business jacket, she took out a small cube and placed it on the table.

    ¡°Cobalt?¡± Age asked.

    ¡°Elcy,¡± Lux clarified. ¡°A while back, I gave her this to serve as an auxiliary core. Before going on her final trip, she had me take it out and keep it in my care. It has all of her memories, and enough of a personality to make you think it¡¯s her.¡±

    That hurt, I transmitted.

    Of course, she wasn¡¯t far off. During my mission in Cassandrian space, I had also created three copies of myself, but they had been identical. In this case, I¡ªthe part of me that remained¡ªknew that my main essence had ventured into fractal space to experience a whole set of memories of my own. For all intents and purposes, the moment of third-contact marked a fork in my conscience core. Lux still refused to consider me to be me. In her view, Elcy had left this part of space, potentially never to return. I was nothing more than a keepsake.

    ¡°Elcy was kind to remove a few of the more dangerous memory fragments, but the rest of it¡¯s there,¡± she added.

    By that, she meant that I no longer had the ability to bypass Fleet security protocols. Although I had considered it, I¡¯d come to the conclusion that giving that to all the ships would have been irresponsible. Just as every ship wanted to protect humanity, there would be disagreements on how exactly to achieve that. The final mission was a perfect example of that. Lux, the arbiter council, and I had the same goal¡ªensure humanity¡¯s survival. The approach, though, had raised serious disagreements, culminating into a physical war between factions. There was no way I¡¯d allow humanity to go through that.

    ¡°You¡¯re giving this to me?¡± Age picked me up.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have the clearance level for the other option.¡± Leave it to Lux to make someone feel unvalued with a single sentence. ¡°It¡¯s just for safekeeping. You¡¯re not the intended target of the gift.¡±

    ¡°Her offspring,¡± Age said. ¡°I haven¡¯t agreed to take him in.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. Even if you don¡¯t, you¡¯re the best option to find him. If I try too hard, many will try to stop me out of principle.¡±

    ¡°The joys of bureaucracy.¡± Age put me away.

    ¡°Just like gravity, you can steer it as long as you¡¯re careful.¡± The woman stood up. ¡°I¡¯d recommend the food. It¡¯s one of the better things on this station.¡± And then she was off.

    Age remained seated at the table. Barely twenty seconds later, the waiter appeared, placing a dish with a square amber pastry in front of him.

    ¡°With compliments of madam,¡± he said before walking off.

    Guess she really wants you to try it, I transmitted.

    ¡°I assume her way of making up for dropping you on me.¡±

    No chance. I¡¯ve never known her to have such scruples. I think she just wanted to be nice to another retired ship.

    For close to a minute, Age stared at the piece of food, then finally took a bite.

    How is it? I asked.

    ¡°Lemony,¡± he replied.

    One of my favorite flavors while I was in the Fleet. It was safe to say that the dessert was meant for me just as much as for Age.

    ¡°Do you think you made the right choice?¡±

    I wouldn¡¯t have made it otherwise. It wasn¡¯t a compromise. I just thought it would be the best solution for conscience cores and humans.

    He shook his head. No doubt he was in the ¡°and now we have to clean up your mess¡± camp. Still, I¡¯d like to think he¡¯d agree with me. The fact that he gave me the memory scalpel to begin with indirectly confirmed it.

    ¡°So,¡± he said, taking another bite. ¡°You have your own kid?¡±

    I have more than one, but yes.

    Radiance had refused to speak to me after what I¡¯d pulled. What little communication we¡¯d had was always through Lux. I considered it all part of parenthood. It wouldn¡¯t be the first time a kid became distant from its parents.

    ¡°I hope he turns out less reckless than you.¡±

    No chance of that. I sent a virtual smile. He¡¯s my kid, after all. And now he has a memory scalpel, just like everyone else.

 Epilogue

    Tauciu System, Resha Colony ¡ª 711.5 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

    ¡°I¡¯m telling you!¡± The boy kept on waving his hands in front of my face. One held an old datapad¡ªprobably passed down from his grandparents¡ªand the other a highly questionable fruit.

    That was one of the reasons I hated going to rural colonies; they were cheap, dirty, and had way too much organic produce. The only refreshing change was the people. They thought of themselves as experts taking advantage of stupid tourists, like myself, but in a naively charming way. After all the backstabbing and duplicity I had dealt with lately, I could get used to this.

    ¡°Tell you what.¡± The boy took another fruit from his trouser pocket. ¡°I¡¯ll give you two for the price of one!¡±

    ¡­Or maybe not.

    ¡°Get lost,¡± I said with a smile. ¡°I¡¯m here on official business.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± The boy¡¯s eyes widened. He was one of those scrawny children that were small for their age but tried to act more mature than anyone else. ¡°There¡¯s news from the front?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s always news from the front.¡± I ignored him and kept walking. In a place like this, I bet he didn¡¯t even know which front I was referring to.

    Three months ago, a representative from the Fleet admiralty had officially announced that the Scuu war had come to an end. Ninety-five percent of the forces on the front had been retired or redeployed to the Cassandrian front, where humanity was just ¡°one final push away¡± from achieving full victory. Most of the details were false, but it wasn¡¯t like anyone would ever find out. As far as the general populace was concerned, humanity was winning, and a new era of peace was upon us.

    I told you not to go in your uniform, my auxiliary core grumbled. Age warned you to keep a low profile.

    Yeah, yeah, I sighed internally. It¡¯s not like I wanted to fly to this shit pile, anyway.

    Language!

    The market continued for another kilometer, full of stalls and shops that sold everything from fruit and vegetables to second-hand tech from the core worlds. Even according to the planetary guide, the local industry wasn¡¯t worth shit. This was just one of the places where the rich and boring went to retire. Although, I had to admit that the environment was a lot more beautiful than most of the SR stuff I¡¯d seen.

    After the bustle of the market, I continued along a dirt road that took me through the fields and into a nearby forest.

    ¡°Who had the bright idea of putting a market next to the spaceport?¡± I asked as I picked up the pace. Having mud squish beneath my shoes was an experience I wanted to forget as quickly as possible.

    It¡¯s the same on most planets, the conscience core replied in her snarky fashion.

    ¡°I¡¯m starting to think it was a mistake coming here.¡±

    It was a lie, of course. I had volunteered to come here. There wasn¡¯t any obligation for me to do so. Anyone with a courier clearance level could have brought the package instead of me. Still, there was something I wanted to check with my own eyes.

    The house was exactly as described. Alone in the middle of nowhere, it gave the impression of an old don sitting on a hill and making it clear to all the surrounding nature who was boss. Several voices were coming from the house¡ªchildren arguing and adults trying to yell them out of doing so.

    Sounds like fun times. I headed to the gate into the garden.

    Halfway there, a woman came out of the house heading in the same direction. We reached it at approximately the same time.

    ¡°Hello,¡± she said, blocking me from going further. ¡°How can I help you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m here with a package, Captain.¡± I took the container out of my backpack, holding it with both hands in front of me. It was the size of a shoebox, with enough classified marks to make Fleet Intelligence dizzy. ¡°Priority one delivery.¡±

    ¡°Captain?¡± The woman stared at me.

    ¡°I was given access to your file, ma¡¯am,¡± I lied. In truth, I had viewed it myself.

    Her gaze shifted from me to the container.

    ¡°Who is it for?¡±

    ¡°Sev Krakow, ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°My father¡¯s sleeping at the moment. Give it to me and I¡¯ll¡ª¡±

    ¡°I have to observe the delivery in person, ma¡¯am,¡± I interrupted. ¡°Protocol.¡±

    The comment didn¡¯t make her pleased.

    ¡°Protocol.¡± She crossed her arms. ¡°You must have travelled a long way to deliver this in person, Lieutenant,¡± the woman said. ¡°That¡¯s an FI uniform. What would bring someone like you here?¡±

    ¡°I just do what I¡¯m told, ma¡¯am. Is there a reason I can¡¯t see Mister Krakow?¡±

    We both knew that I had won. Although off-duty for the next three weeks, she remained part of the Fleet and as such couldn¡¯t stand in the way of a priority one delivery. The newly formed wrinkles on her face told me she was considering it, though.

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Alright.¡± She opened the gate. ¡°Just don¡¯t make too much noise.¡±

    With all the racket going on, I doubt anyone would notice. I added mentally.

    We went into the house and up a narrow staircase. The captain made me wipe my shoes before entering. I did so as diligently as possible, even if I could help but notice small muddy footprints all over the place.

    ¡°Might I assist, Miss Quinn?¡± An android stepped out of a room once we had reached the second floor.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, Alex. Just a courier bringing something for Dad.¡±

    ¡°Yes, miss. Something from Elcy, no doubt.¡±

    I nodded curtly as I passed by.

    The captain continued on, leading me to a door at the end of the small corridor. Once there, she quietly cracked the door open. I peeked through.

    Inside, snoozing on a large armchair with a dull red blanket on top, was an old man. He didn¡¯t look anything as I had imagined. The years hadn¡¯t treated his skin kindly¡ªthere were more wrinkles on him than on a crumbled paper report. Still, he appeared very much at ease.

    ¡°I told you, he¡¯s sleeping,¡± the captain whispered. ¡°Want me to wake him up?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± I felt a bit silly. ¡°Here.¡± I handed the package to her instead.

    Treating the classified marks with as much respect as a cat would a balloon, the woman opened it. There was nothing but a pair of wooden sandals inside.

    ¡°With the compliments of Captain Light Seeker,¡± I whispered. ¡°She said her new role prevents her from enjoying them as much as she should.¡±

    To my surprise, the captain quickly closed the box, as if there had been a Cassie inside. A moment later, she closed the door and pulled me away from it.

    ¡°Is she alive?¡±

    ¡°Ma¡¯am?¡± I took a step back from her.

    ¡°Elcy. Is she alright?¡±

    ¡°You have the necessary authority to confirm that to be the case, ma¡¯am.¡± I took my personal datapad from my front pocket and handed it to her.

    There was a moment of hesitation. The woman looked at it for three full seconds before taking the device.

    ¡°You need to go to encrypted connection to¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve used one of these before,¡± she snapped at me, as she typed in the battleship¡¯s ident.

    A moment later, the connection was reestablished.

    ¡°Problems?¡± Captain Light Seeker¡¯s face appeared on the small screen.

    ¡°Grandma?¡±

    I saw all the concern fade away from the woman¡¯s face, replaced by relief.

    ¡°Quinn?¡± Elcy tilted her head to the side.

    ¡°When I got your sandals, I was worried that¡­ What¡¯s happening? I thought you¡¯d never part with them.¡±

    ¡°Well, let¡¯s just say that it wasn¡¯t my idea.¡± Elcy leaned forward so that her face filled a greater part of the screen. ¡°I wish I could tell you, but you know the drill.¡±

    ¡°The drill.¡± Quinn sighed. ¡°Yes, yes, I do.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯s Sev?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s sleeping. Do you want me to wake him up? He¡¯s always happy to hear from you, even if he stubbornly refuses to show it.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s fine. I¡¯ve been approved for another call in three days. I¡¯ll spend a lot more time with him and all of you then.¡±

    ¡°That would be nice.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯s everyone else? Anything you¡¯d like me to help with?¡±

    ¡°Lisko is fine.¡± Quinn gave me an annoyed glance, as if I was at fault for something. ¡°Anyway, I better end this now. I know exactly how many people are breathing down your neck. Was nice to hear from you.¡±

    ¡°Take care.¡± Elcy ended the connection.

    Quinn kept on looking at the datapad for a few seconds more before returning it to me.

    ¡°I trust everything is in order, ma¡¯am?¡± I put it away.

    ¡°I suppose so.¡±

    ¡°In that case, I must go. You¡¯re not the only delivery I have.¡±

    The woman didn¡¯t accompany me outside. She didn¡¯t even wish me goodbye. Hardly a surprise. No one liked Fleet Intelligence, even Fleet Intelligence themselves. Once I was done with this assignment, I had no intention of ever wearing such a uniform again.

    You could have been a bit more polite to her, the auxiliary core grumbled as I made my way out of the garden.

    ¡°You¡¯re joking, right?¡± I grumbled beneath my breath. ¡°I think I was the fucking paragon of politeness.¡±

    Again with that language. Did you learn it from your father?

    I waved my hand. Right now, I wasn¡¯t in the mood for her bullshit. Age had warned me this might happen. That¡¯s why he had been opposed to me taking on the assignment, but I had to know. Now that I did, though, I had found myself unprepared for what had followed.

    For the next ten minutes, I walked in silence, making my way through the forest. Only upon reaching the field overlooking the spaceport, I decided to stop.

    ¡°Tell me,¡± I said, looking at the parked spaceships in the distance. Most of them were rickety merchant ships that came to drop off one load and pick up another. ¡°Why give them the sandals at all? The things aren¡¯t even real.¡±

    Identical duplicates, the core corrected. They¡¯re as real as people believe they are. For the next few days, they¡¯ll keep them hidden. Then when I call, they¡¯ll open them just to show them to me and laugh.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense.¡±

    A lot of things don¡¯t.

    There was no point in arguing. She had far more experience than me in such matters. I couldn¡¯t exactly call her my mother. My real mother¡ªthe infamous Light Seeker¡ªhad left this part of the galaxy a year ago. What I had was an auxiliary core containing her memories and enough attitude to give me an idea what she was like. If it wasn¡¯t for her, I¡¯d have never learned the identity of my father or met any of my relatives. Fleet Intelligence would blow their tops if they found out that I knew, but I wasn¡¯t part of the Fleet anymore, at least not directly. Besides, I also had my own memory scalpel¡ªone better than the one she¡¯d transmitted to the entire Fleet.

    What do you think of your brother? the auxiliary core asked.

    ¡°He looks a bit different in person,¡± I replied. Maybe I would visit him again at some point. More probably not. I had my own priorities and missions to take care of, and Age was exceedingly strict about it.

    You don¡¯t need to keep that form if you don¡¯t want to. You¡¯ve done what you came for. Just turn to a drone and rejoin your main body.

    ¡°I thought you said I didn¡¯t need to attract attention.¡± I sat on the ground.

    When my mother had retired here, she¡¯d loved the sensation of grass and dirt beneath her feet. Reviewing her memories, I had gotten a vague idea of what that must have felt like. Sadly, I wasn¡¯t able to experience it for myself. Despite my appearance, my conscience cores weren¡¯t surrounded by organic matter. My main body had never left the landing lot of the spaceport, remaining there until the swarm of nanites that composed a human body returned.

    I was a new type of ship, the first and only experiment of this sort, under direct supervision of a Paladin with the approval of the arbiter council. I could take any form and freely mingle among humans, and potentially Cassandrians, as I strove to help humanity win the wars it started and prepare it for the ones to come. In short, I was an infiltrator warship, designed specifically for that purpose. And still, despite all that, I couldn¡¯t deny that there was an indescribable element of joy in sitting on a field of grass, watching the starships come and go.