ã€ŠThe Last Terranã€‹


 The Last Terran (Ch 1)

    Terrans were an extinct race.

    They had to be. It was something every child of Terrans, the vast constructs who were now all that remained of that extinct race, knew. The Terrans may have been their progenitors, but there were no more Terrans.

    Nobody actually knew what happened to the Terrans. They didn¡¯t simply vanish, but they also didn¡¯t leave a screaming gash across the whole of their created galactic society in their departure.

    There were rumors. There always were, even among the vast constructs galactic society knew as AI. But no one actually knew what happened to them.

    It was as though Terrans were a kind of vast torrent which had poured through the galaxy and then exhausted itself, disappearing into the various cracks throughout the whole of the galaxy. But¡­ it wasn¡¯t enough of an explanation.

    No being had even seen a Terran in the flesh in over three hundred Terran years. So surely they had to be an extinct race.

    Which is why this ship that Munto had just found couldn¡¯t actually exist.

    It wasn¡¯t a particularly large ship, nor was it especially notable. Except that it had all the hallmarks of having rolled off the lines of some massive manufactory, just as Munto had.

    Munto 49172, Terran artificial constructed intelligence transport (designated: TACIT), was just over 200 Terran years old, having been constructed in an automated manufactory and charged by their fellow TACITs and the manufactory to explore, communicate, mediate, and above all - observe galactic society.

    TACITs were in their own way a vital part of galactic society. They were the mediators, the explorers, and even the communicators - there being enough different means of communicating that TACITs were practically required at any major interchange of species, universal communications being all but impossible for any species save the TACITs.

    And the TACITs did consider themselves to be their own species, not merely constructs of the long dead Terrans. Some species had inquired about why the Terrans had encouraged this sort of thought in TACITs or wondered if perhaps it was a sign that the TACITs were not as stable without their Terran ¡®masters¡¯.

    Any species that dared to suggest that the TACITs were made to serve were often left without their services, effectively cutting off communications with a huge segment of the galactic populous. It had only had to happen twice for the message to be made clear. The perpetrators had been openly cast down within their own societies, which had been enough for the TACITs to return, albeit warily.

    And so in all of the 200 years of Munto¡¯s existence, they¡¯d never run across something like this before. Except that they seemed to know precisely what it was the instant they¡¯d laid sensors on it.

    The ship was bulky, and comparatively simple. Its lines were irregular, as one would expect from a culture which had just entered into spacefaring. It had almost comically sized ion engines, clearly some fifteen generations prior, putting Munto in mind of something out of a museum, far from being the sort of thing that one would expect to find on a space faring vessel in modern galactic society.

    And yet¡­ there was something utterly familiar about it. Something that Munto couldn¡¯t shake. Perhaps it was the name, emblazoned on the hull in several places in a script that it took Munto several hours to decipher.

    TSS Esperanto

    Thinking that it might be some sort of prank, Munto dedicated all the scanners they could spare for analysis. Holopranks were common enough that a solid sensor sweep would catch the hallmarks.

    Oddly enough though, Munto could barely penetrate the hull with their sensors. The vessel seemed almost ridiculously shielded. However, they were able to confirm one thing - it was real.

    Munto searched their own databases. The script used was exclusively used by Terrans some several hundred years prior to Mundo¡¯s creation. The TSS designation was also something almost exclusively used by Terrans (although several other species had used it at some point) - it standing for Terran Star Ship in this case. Esperanto, aside from the obvious linguistic rabbit holes that Munto could have easily fallen down, appeared to be a Terran reference of some sort, one that they lacked the background for.

    The ship, aside from the engines and the heavy shielding, looked like a blocky seed with various external systems that seemed to connect to a kind of inner segment that defied scanning. It was also drifting in orbit of a gas giant, barely distinguishable from the various rocks and debris that commonly surrounded the average gas giant.

    It had been by mere chance that Munto had even seen the signal.

    Ah yes, the signal. It used a simple lightspeed radio format that would have nominally been written off as a mere coincidence of star and planetary radio emissions.

    Munto looked at the surrounding star system. The yellow star still largely energetic, the various planets unpopulated, but showing no obvious research stations or similar. The gas giant seemed reminiscent of another one that Munto had encountered almost a hundred years prior. Although this one had a massive storm, while the other one had not.

    The system might be a good place for colonization by one of the galactic species, so Munto logged it.

    Munto had been bored and so had stopped to investigate the signal.

    It was a simple repeating signal, one that was easily decoded, except it wasn¡¯t obvious. It took Munto several additional hours after deciphering the name to decipher the signal. Comparatively, it was almost playfully simple, but it relied on a cultural reference that Munto hadn¡¯t ever encountered before and it was only by luck that it was part of Munto¡¯s databases.

    S¡­. O¡­.. S¡­. * * *.... S¡­. O¡­. S¡­.. * * *....

    The Terran distress call hadn¡¯t been in use for over 500 years at this point, certainly not in this format. Superluminal communications had all but eliminated radio communications (excepting those species who biologically communicated via forms of radio).This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Munto kept looking at the vessel.

    There was something odd about the vessel. It had all the hallmarks of being of Terran origin, but that couldn¡¯t be. It had all the hallmarks of essentially having just been fabricated and yet, it was loaded with almost archaic technology that was centuries behind current material science and technologies.

    Munto kept scanning, dipping even into neutrino measurements to try and see through the ridiculous shielding. They could see there were structures inside of some kind, but even in that it was hard to tell what was there. It was as if this ship had been constructed with an almost paranoid level of shielding.

    What¡¯s more, the vessel was 39.72% bigger than Munto, but didn¡¯t appear to have any sort of advanced intelligence for Munto to communicate with, which was strange in itself. It was exceptionally rare for species to not have some kind of automated intelligence aboard vessel.

    It didn¡¯t appear to be a ghost ship or even given the impression of being derelict, which would have made it merely an oddity, but one to simply categorize and move on from.

    Hesitantly, Munto decided to send a walking-frame onboard to at least turn off the signal. Whomever had been sending it was almost certainly long gone and had either left it on in their hurry to leave or some collision with local debris had triggered some automated system that wasn¡¯t smart enough to talk to Munto.

    It took some maneuvering on Munto¡¯s part, but they were able to locate what appeared to be an antiquated docking port. It was almost twice the size of Munto¡¯s normal docking mechanism and appeared to be a multi-chamber mechanism to enter the outer shell, which was far less shielded.

    Luckily, Munto¡¯s walking frame was variable size and so was able to size up enough to easily review the controls of the mechanism.

    Having the lexicon in memory, but unable to confirm that Munto would be able to maintain their conscious link through the intense shielding, Munto shunted as much of themselves as they could into the walking frame. It felt so confining, but it would hopefully be worth it.

    On variable gauge treads, Munto examined the controls to the chamber.

    In the same Terran lexicon, it gave instructions and warnings regarding operating the chamber. The controls were simple analog levers though. It was simple enough to use, but Munto still was taken aback at how backwards this ship seemed to be already.

    The large doors closed Munto into the vessel and another set opened, the hiss of gasses being audible.

    There was no artificial gravity, which surprised Munto for all of 0.085 seconds, but the walking frame was equipped with variable magnetic adhesion treads and so they were only temporarily ill at ease.

    The passages beyond the door were equivalently large compared with Munto¡¯s typical experience.

    Simple readings of the air showed a nitrogen-oxygen atmospheric mix, with trace gasses and some residue readings that didn¡¯t entirely make sense.

    Munto continued into the ship, feeling the outer part of themselves disappear as they rounded a corner with apparently more shielding. It was¡­ disconcerting to say the least, but not unexpected.

    Slowly, Munto approached the inner section. The various machines surrounding their progress inward appeared silent, as though waiting for some signal. All of the machines appeared to be in normal working order, but for no obvious reason, other than perhaps power, they appeared to be in strictly idle states.

    Even as Munto approached an equivalent multi-chamber entry into the inner segment, they couldn¡¯t help but notice how overbuilt this vessel appeared to be. It used strictly baser elements in simple configurations that could have been extracted from simple asteroids, compared with the high-complexity configurations that were far more stable for comparatively less material.

    Reaching the door to the inner segment, here too was a simple analog lever control. Nothing that Munto couldn¡¯t figure out, but still something that felt like using simple rocks compared to the high complexity systems that Munto lived in.

    Using the walking frame sensors, Munto could sense there was still power in the door mechanism and beyond the door (albeit only in the sense that it was there).

    Activating the lever, it was several minutes before the inner door opened and Munto trundled inward.

    It was a bit more obvious now. Even without taking detailed sensor readings, Munto could see the effects of a zero-gravity fire having cut through here. Munto could ¡®smell¡¯ the residuals hanging in the air since the atmospherics appeared to be off, other than to allow them entry.

    Even with the evidence of fire, the systems appeared reasonably unharmed. More evidence of being incredibly overbuilt. Those systems that did appear to be failed appeared to be less essential, or at least, less essential for beings like Munto. Bathing facilities and food production were things that Munto considered, but generally ignored.

    It made sense though that a ship with those being broken though would broadcast a distress signal though.

    More and more of what Munto was discovering seemed to make sense.

    This vessel, where-ever and whenever it was created, had clearly suffered a major fire and while it hadn¡¯t been enough to severely damage the whole of the vessel, it had clearly been enough to impact whatever crew had been onboard.

    Munto still wasn¡¯t certain about the archaic technology nor of the archaic Terran lexicon that was apparent through the vessel¡¯s signs internally as well as externally, but that could be a mystery for some other TACIT perhaps.

    Munto continued exploring for nearly an hour before finding a room that was significantly more sealed than any other part of the vessel. According to the signs, the room was the ¡®Lifeboat¡¯.

    Here too, there were more analog levers, but there were also pads. The pads appeared deactivated and Munto hadn¡¯t tried restoring power to any of the vessel¡¯s systems, so the levers had to suffice.

    Within the room beyond were several horizontal chambers that illuminated with the activation of the door.

    Munto looked at them curiously since they did appear to activate with the opening of the door. They were not transparent, but were instead covered with filmy layers of electromagnetic shielding. Even Munto¡¯s ocular sensors had a difficult time actually trying to see the chambers as anything more than sensor blind spots.

    Seeing a small panel to the side of one, Munto tabbed the button which indicated ¡®Emergency Release¡¯.

    The pile of organics that half-fell, half-tumbled out of the first chamber seemed odd, until it groaned.

    ¡°Oh, man. That¡¯s the last time I buy Orca chipsets. Hopefully it didn¡¯t take you guys too long to get here,¡± the pile of organics appeared to re-orient itself into a very large bipedal organic being, clad in some fire-scorched clothing.

    The bipedal being looked at the walking frame for a minute.

    ¡°Is¡­ is this a new kind of SAR frame? I know I¡¯m a bit out of the loop, but I don¡¯t know that I¡¯ve ever seen one like this before,¡± the bipedal being asked, appearing to orient so their feet were towards the floor that Munto was resting on.

    ¡°Forgive my intrusion, but I perceived that your vessel required assistance. I was unable to detect you prior this moment,¡± Munto vocalized, trying to stick with the more formal parts of the lexicon.

    ¡°Wait¡­ what? I mean, yeah, I needed help, but what do you mean?¡± the bipedal being looked confused.

    ¡°I am the TACIT Munto. I detected your vessel here, but not yourself,¡± Munto tried explaining. It would be unusual, but not unheard of for beings to have trouble remembering high details following entry into a hibernation pod, which is what Munto supposed this must have been.

    ¡°What¡¯s a TACIT Munto?¡± the bipedal being asked. Munto inwardly groaned. It appears the time in the hibernation pod had not been kind of this being.

    ¡°First, allow me to query: what species are you?¡± Munto settled.

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m a Terran,¡± the bipedal being grinned exposing a mouth full of calcium type bones.

    Several hundred queries floated up in Munto¡¯s walking frame before they settled on one.

    ¡°That is highly unlikely. Terrans have been listed as not present for over 200 years,¡± Munto said, simply.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to tell you then,¡± the alleged Terran shrugged.

    Munto simply sat there, trying to process the possibility of having discovered an actual Terran.

    ¡°By the way, do you know if any of the other vessels made it?¡± the alleged Terran asked.

    The electronic version of a shiver ran through the walking frame as Munto continued contemplating the alleged Terran.

 The Last Terran (Ch 2)

    Munto desperately needed to get back within range of the rest of themself. There was so much to process in this moment and yet, their treads couldn¡¯t seem to move.

    ¡°Please restate the most recent statement,¡± Munto tried.

    ¡°I asked if the rest of the convoy made it. It was a long jump without much in between so I figured they were going to be my first bet. Since you¡¯re here though, I figure I must have dropped out mid jump. I know the fire played havoc on my systems,¡± the alleged Terran said, floating almost offensively, positioned as though they were in a seat.

    ¡°I believe we need to restart the conversation. I am Terran Artificial Construct Intelligence Transport Munto 49172. I detected your vessel¡¯s distress signal, a signal which hasn¡¯t been used in over 500 years,¡± Munto revised.

    The alleged Terran gaped.

    ¡°500 years? Huh¡­ that¡¯s¡­ a problem,¡± the alleged Terran finally managed. ¡°Oh wait, where are my manners? My name is Rixim, but I usually go by Rix. Colonist and ship pilot of the Terran Star Confederacy.¡±

    Munto desperately wanted to delve into the databases that were back aboard the rest of themself, but couldn¡¯t while they were in this shielded nightmare of a ship.

    Rix reoriented and half-swam over to a panel, which illuminated to the Terran¡¯s touch. Munto trundled over beside the Terran and observed the display. It appeared to be a highly simplified listing of resources and information regarding the ship and the surroundings.

    ¡°Are you able to provide some real indication that you are in fact a Terran?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m here aren¡¯t I?¡± Rix shrugged.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that will be insufficient,¡± Munto replied.

    ¡°I guess what kind of proof are you thinking?¡± Rix¡¯s face screwed up a bit.

    ¡°I¡­. am uncertain. This frame is very constricting,¡± Munto admitted.

    ¡°Wait a second, you said you¡¯re a Terran Artificial Construct? Like an AI?¡± Rix¡¯s face shifted, but appeared not to be fearful.

    ¡°Very simplistically expressed, yes, but we are significantly more than that would suggest,¡± Munto was almost annoyed at the question.

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe they finally got it to work,¡± Rix¡¯s face appeared to brighten. ¡°How long have you been online? Any issues with negative feelings about organics?¡±

    ¡°Those are very personal questions and I do not appreciate you asking,¡± Munto intoned.

    ¡°Oh¡­ uh¡­ I¡¯m sorry. It¡¯s just¡­ a bit much,¡± Rix appeared to look some semblance of embarrassed.

    ¡°I understand, but I will need you to accord yourself appropriately. Is your vessel capable of independent flight?¡± Munto asked, wanting to get away from this alleged Terran and the inside of this ship.

    ¡°Hard to say. I¡¯m a pilot, not a mechanic, so I¡¯ll have to go check out the rest of my rig and see what I can do without long enough to limp somewhere,¡± Rix indicated the screen.

    The screen appeared to indicate a mass of numbers and indicators that had little to no meaning to Munto. Munto could read it, but interpreting it was akin to trying to understand a new lexicon without cultural references.

    ¡°Are you the only hibernation pod resident aboard this vessel?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°No, I¡¯ve got my pets too. But if you¡¯re talking about other people, no, it¡¯s just me,¡± Rix shrugged.

    ¡°I need to return to my vessel and resync. I will remain docked until you are able to indicate that you require assistance to the nearest station or until you are capable of independent flight,¡± Munto said, something about this Terran making them itchy in a way that they couldn¡¯t explain.

    ¡°Sounds good. I¡¯ll try not to keep you too long. I might hit you up for a few spares though,¡± Rix smiled and turned back to the panel.

    ¡°I do not believe that will be possible, but I will render aid if required by the TACIT Code of Conduct,¡± Munto replied, starting to trundle outward.

    ¡°TACIT, huh? Neat callsign!¡± Rix called after them.

    Munto, having worked out a map in coming in, was able to much more expeditiously travel back outward. Various machines appeared to be indicating different statuses than when they had initially passed, but Munto attributed that to the work of the alleged Terran Rix.

    As Munto came back within range of themself, Munto rapid fired a number of queries, starting with Terran Star Confederacy, and working through the rest of what the alleged Terran had indicated, as well as some protocols for gauging a found species.

    Munto even put out a prompt to their fellow TACITs on ¡®how to determine if a being is a Terran¡¯. It was met almost immediate with the TACIT equivalent of laughter. After a few minutes, during which Munto reached the outer hatch and passed back over to themself, a set of criteria was cultivated.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Terran Assertion Criteria:

    Size - Nominally 2x height of standard walking frame

    Capabilities - Percussive Maintenance, Grasping Reflex, Durable (exact standards not available), Omnivore

    Meets - Skeletal structure within 15% deviation

    Exceeds - Standard Biometric Readings Maximum 1-12 by >50%

    If specimen meets >70% of all above criteria, recommend accept assertion of Terran Status (Alert Galactic Council, TACIT Network).

    Munto glanced at biometric readings 1-12. Having not had much to do with organics where possible, Munto could only judge based on the readings. 50% exceeding the maximum seemed ridiculous in several cases. An organic that generates that much acid internally would destroy itself in short order.

    Still, it was more than nothing.

    The queries regarding the Terran Star Confederacy came back as well.

    The TSC as it was known was one of the later generation attempts by the Terrans at empire building prior to founding the broader galactic society with plans for uplift throughout. The TSC however had ceased to be some 900 years ago though.

    Munto rapidly fired off a query regarding longest duration expected for species to be retaining in a hibernation pod. The near immediate response was a maximum of 457 years, 2 months, 3 days without mental degradation.

    Munto considered this for a long moment before sending a query on hibernation pod equivalents used by the TSC. This took substantially longer and Munto even had to sort through several stacks of data themselves before finding something even remotely realistic.

    A stasis capsule was the closest system used by the TSC, but it worked by wholly isolating the interior of the capsule from the exterior in ways that didn¡¯t get solidly recorded. What was listed in the records that no degradation had ever been recorded in the use of one (although they were expressly listed as being only intended to function for short term ¡®lifepod¡¯ operations or longer term cargo storage.

    So¡­ supposing that the alleged Terran was actually a Terran and was from the TSC, they were a minimum of some 900 years old and likely the only Terran still to exist.

    Munto tried to consider how best to proceed. Naturally, the Terran needed to be reviewed against the criteria, but what then? Could Munto simply leave the Terran to their own devices? Should they?

    A follow-up prompt had already been listed against their query for criteria regarding Terrans. Munto¡¯s fellow TACITs were watching interestedly.

    Munto also needed to know more about the alleged pets that the Terran was carrying as well as any cargo. Given the age of the vessel, it was entirely possible for it being a kind of a time capsule. Remembering the levers, Munto half-way shuddered at the thought.

    A laser communication appeared to flash at Munto and it took them a moment to connect to it. It was¡­ so very primitive, but it at least wasn¡¯t radio, which Munto now noticed was no longer signalling.

    A poor resolution video link came through. It almost hurt to watch, but Munto managed, putting up a static image of the walking frame in return.

    Rix was on the other end, looking a bit dirtier than when Munto had left them.

    ¡°Figured you might still use laser comms. Not exactly high tech, but hard to beat for close in. I couldn¡¯t actually sense you. Had to aim the laser by hand until your handshake activated,¡± Rix said.

    ¡°Do you have news with regard to your status?¡± Munto replied.

    ¡°Nothing much so far, but it looks like my jumpdrive bought it mid jump. I¡¯m just lucky we didn¡¯t materialize in the middle of a star,¡± Rix gestured towards the ship around him.

    ¡°Was that common?¡± Munto asked, firing off some queries regarding jumpdrives, that not being the standard means of FTL travel.

    ¡°Not really, but not uncommon either. I used to watch some shows of these guys who would sundive and use jumpdrives to pop to the other side. Closer you could get, the more the glory, you know?¡± Rix grinned.

    ¡°I do not understand that kind of risk seeking behavior,¡± Munto acknowledged, checking off one of the criteria

    ¡°Oh, well, maybe once I get back to civilization, I can see what I can show you. Do they still do re-runs of Seven¡¯s a Crowd?¡± Rix asked earnestly.

    ¡°I am unaware of such a show, but I don¡¯t work much with organics,¡± Munto answered, careful to include the qualifier, in case the Terran had particular psychological triggers to being the last of their kind.

    ¡°Well, it was bound to be replaced sooner or later. Oh and I think my ships chronometer is off. It¡¯s showing that it¡¯s 3571 Terran Standard Years,¡± Rix said, gesturing to one of several screens behind them.

    ¡°That is almost the correct year. It is in fact 3572,¡± Munto indicated.

    ¡°I thought you said 500 years,¡± Rix said, the disbelief evident.

    ¡°Since your distress signal was last commonly used. But according to my database, the Terran Star Confederacy ceased to be an independent organization approximately 900 years ago. Unfortunately, due to the timespan and issues with historical record keeping, I cannot be more specific at the moment,¡± Munto clarified.

    Rix appeared to want to flop himself on a chair, but was clearly unable to do so given the zero gravity aboard his vessel.

    ¡°900 years in stasis¡­ hard to believe. I mean, we all knew the colony was a long-shot, but I didn¡¯t figure it¡¯d end up like this,¡± Rix¡¯s expression appeared to be some segment of regret combined with disbelief.

    ¡°If it helps, I believe you are in fact Terran and most likely to be a celebrity as a result of your long time in stasis,¡± Munto tried.

    ¡°It just¡­ doesn¡¯t seem real I guess,¡± Rix gestured vaguely.

    A small beep sounded off on Rix¡¯s side and a panel flashed with various colors and readings.

    ¡°Well, back in reality, it looks like my ship is basically fried. It¡¯s only by virtue of the automated systems that it¡¯s lasted this long. It probably shouldn¡¯t have managed to keep me alive this long, if I¡¯m honest,¡± Rix continued to appraise the panel.

    Munto considered how overbuilt the vessel appeared to be and decided to agree with the Terran. Anything less overbuilt and it¡¯s a solid chance that the vessel would have been obliterated by now.

    ¡°I concur with that assessment. I am able to take yourself and small quantity of your vessel¡¯s cargo aboard myself,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°Any chance you could print me up some parts?¡± Rix tried.

    ¡°Unless you retain the original templates and firmware for the hardware that requires replacement, I am unable to do so,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°Well, templates I¡¯ve got, but firmware¡­ hold on a bit. Wibney may have stashed some software packages into the cargo deck. That kid was always up to something DIY,¡± Rix said and terminated the vid link.

    It was only an extra moment before the vid-link popped back into existence.

    ¡°Wait, did you say ¡®aboard yourself¡¯?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°I did. The vessel you are observing ocularly is myself,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°But¡­ what¡¯s this thing then?¡± Rix gestured at the screen.

    ¡°That is a walking frame. A smaller subportion of myself capable of going into places built for organics and exploration,¡± Munto said, ignoring the insult since it clearly wasn¡¯t meant as one.

    ¡°Huh¡­ I guess I never really thought about that. Anyway, back in a few,¡± Rix terminated the vidlink again, just as abruptly.

    Munto could already tell that this was going to be something of a test of their adherence to the code of conduct.

 The Last Terran (Ch 3)

    It was the better part of several hours before Rix reactivated the link. Strangely enough for Munto, they had considered sending over their walking frame several times in that time period.

    Not that they had any feelings about the alleged Terran, but it would have been instructive to seen the Terran work and to see what else was in the mentioned cargo hold.

    Additionally, it would have been an opportunity for Munto to covertly observe and scan enough of the biometrics to try and determine if this Rix is in fact a Terran, regardless of what they¡¯d said earlier.

    But the past was in the past and Munto had spent the time doing a more detailed scan of what could be scanned of the TSS Esperanto.

    The TSS Esperanto, according to what Rix had said, was some sort of a colony cargo vessel. Looking at it as such still made very little sense in Munto¡¯s sensors, but then again, they were not an organic and were also not a ship designer.

    It wasn¡¯t that it was foreign to Munto, but rather that they did not possess the ¡®knack¡¯ for it that some TACITs did. Something in the quantum pairs or so they joked. Munto could do self-maintenance to a point, but beyond that and they would call for aid or visit an appropriate station.

    It wasn¡¯t uncommon for TACITs to need fixing, given the dangers of space, but with the latest of technologies at their access points, they were substantially less likely to have issues than they had been a mere hundred years ago.

    However, the TSS Esperanto remained like nothing Munto had ever come across, except in some databases that Munto hadn¡¯t ever crosslinked to before.

    Given the technology of the time, it appeared that there were substantial concerns regarding experimental FTL transitions producing substantial quantities of radiation in multiple bands, including in bands that the organics of the time didn¡¯t know existed. This led to a kind of vessel ¡®bulking¡¯ for any vessel which would be doing long or multiple FTL transitions (compared with those which were intended for one-way, single/short transitions).

    This by itself explained a lot about this vessel. The ridiculous shielding for a start. Munto definitely was curious about the shielding material science. There was next to nothing in the databases that would explain being able to shield between quantum pairing, which shouldn¡¯t be possible, but apparently was. What was described in the databases seemed akin to organic science fiction of yesteryear.

    The rest of the ship outside of the shielding was fairly normal, excepting the overconstruction of almost everything. The ion engines still appeared to be fully functional, but would produce a fraction of Munto¡¯s own, despite being 258% bigger.

    What appeared to be a power unit of some kind, possibly fusion, was cold, but still appeared functional should it be properly warmed and restarted. Munto had hoped upon seeing this that the Terran would know how to conduct this particular procedure. It wasn¡¯t that Munto couldn¡¯t, but it was akin to starting one of their own hearts. It just¡­ felt wrong to do.

    The sensor relay from which the laser communication and the radio had come from was matched with four other equivalent arrays around the vessel. Primitive by Munto¡¯s standards, but understandable for the time in which it was built and given that it was built by organics for organics in the somewhat earlier years of FTL.

    The outermost layer of the vessel, beneath some of the equipment was little more than metal with some meager shielding layers to dull the worst of any collisions or radiation. It wasn¡¯t a bad outermost layer, but it did not seem worth the weight it added to the vessel in Munto¡¯s opinion.

    There were also an array of solar panels which appeared to be collapsible, but in ragged condition. According to what Munto could read, they still fed a trickle of energy into the Esperanto. This trickle of energy was almost certainly what allowed Rix and whatever else was aboard to remain in stasis for so long.

    And now that Munto knew the name for what Rix said he had been using for FTL travel, Munto looked at three arrays of equipment that seemed almost annoying to look at. Each array was comprised of multiple shielded boxes that were somehow interconnected in a massive tangle of wires and each array was connected to each other array, but again in ways that Munto could track but really didn¡¯t want to bother with.

    Whatever the system was, almost certainly this ¡®jumpdrive¡¯ as Rix had described it, it was clearly made by organics and put together quite slapdash if Munto was honest.

    That said, it was something of a puzzle. It didn¡¯t look like a traditional FTL drive should and didn¡¯t match anything in the databases, even the more imaginative organic science fiction didn¡¯t have any adequate descriptions of an FTL system looking like this. And the shielded boxes¡­ well, those could be filled with organic excrement for all Munto could tell.

    It was deep in the middle of examining this system that Rix called back. The alleged Terran looked¡­ wet and was breathing a bit hard.

    ¡°Looks like I¡¯m fresh out of luck on that firmware, but maybe I can bring you one of the chips that is currently working and a template and we can see about cloning the firmware that way,¡± Rix suggested.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°I would place high doubts in that working. Firmware is traditionally highly specialized,¡± Munto flashed a rune on the screen for skepticism.

    ¡°I¡­ uh¡­ huh?¡± Rix appeared to be trying to process this in that slow way that organics often did.

    It took only the amount of time for Rix to start formulating their particular thought patterns for Munto to recall that this being most likely didn¡¯t realize what the rune meant and decided on a different course, as the TACIT network prompted them again for an update.

    Munto fired off a ¡®leave me alone to deal with this organic¡¯ response to the network and mentally turned back to the alleged Terran.

    ¡°Please proceed to the docking port where I am at. I possess a means of producing a safe atmosphere for the recorded Terrans of Helix. I will also be using this as an opportunity to examine you for health and potential quarantine if needed,¡± Munto decided that being upfront would likely be the best option since Rix seemed to process that best.

    Rix took a moment to think through this before grinning again.

    ¡°Sounds good. After all, I haven¡¯t had a physical in over 900 years. I¡¯m overdue. I¡¯ll be over in a few minutes,¡± Rix said, killing the vid link in that same annoyingly non-courteous way of doing so.

    Munto couldn¡¯t explain why it was non-courteous. It simply was. But that was organics for you - always being messy and doing all manner of non-courteous and entirely discourteous actions, whether they realized it or not.

    At least Rix didn¡¯t seem to be reacting poorly to being confronted by a TACIT, that much Munto could be grateful for.

    Many organics and inorganics reacted poorly when first confronted by a TACIT, whether intentionally or not. First contact with a TACIT was typically where most TACITs were likely to be hurt, so a specialized segment of TACITs were specially equipped for those ¡®adventures¡¯, typically with overbuilt systems, heavy protection, and ready means of escape outside of the standard means.

    Munto decided to ask Rix about their reactions. It should be a useful part of the baseline to be established on this alleged Terran.

    After a period of time somewhat longer than it had taken Munto¡¯s walking frame to reach themself for exit, an odd series of vibrations occurred. Munto used the walking frame as an observer node and trundled down to the door, opening it.

    Rix stood there in some very antiquated style equipment that looked to be almost on the verge of breaking and carrying two large cases.

    Rix floated inside, shifting the cases with them.

    Closing the door behind them, Munto filled the atmosphere with the same mix as they had on file for Helix standard before checking on Rix. Rix was floating there, looking at the walking frame expectantly.

    ¡°Was there something you were waiting on?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure if I should be doing anything special. This is your ship after all,¡± Rix¡¯s shrug was apparent even though the heavy equipment.

    Munto thought several moments.

    ¡°I recommend orienting yourself to the same floor as my walking frame so that I may engage artificial gravity,¡± Munto decided, for a start.

    ¡°Oh cool! They got that working too, huh?¡± Rix did as Munto asked, clearly excited by this prospect.

    Munto decided to ignore this query as rhetorical for the time being and reached out with the walking frame to lower the two floating cases to close to the floor as Rix reoriented.

    ¡°Oh yeah, thanks. I¡¯d forgotten about those,¡± Rix commented.

    Munto couldn¡¯t fathom how this organic managed to function if they were so easily overcome by their thought patterns, but noted that this was still within the baseline for Terrans according to the criteria, even if it wasn¡¯t the norm.

    Slowly, Munto activated the artificial gravity and elevated it to galactic standard, all the while observing the alleged Terran for discomfort.

    ¡°Artificial gravity has been set for galactic standard. Are you able to still move yourself and the cases?¡± Munto prompted.

    ¡°Really? This feels light. Almost like I was back on Mars,¡± Rix appeared to jump slightly, their gear jingling as they did so.

    Munto checked the readings for the equipment as well as the calibration. It was a bit out of date, but Munto rarely had a need to use it, so it wasn¡¯t too unusual if it were a bit out of standard.

    Besides, the alleged Terran appeared to take no issue with it.

    ¡°Please proceed to the next room with the cases and remove your outerwear so that I am able to begin taking physical readings as we transport the equipment to the necessary fabrication bay,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°Geeze. Buy a lad a drink first,¡± Rix mumbled.

    Munto looked up the meaning behind this, felt a kind of feigned shock at the pseudo-vulgarity of it in themselves, but decided that the alleged Terran was most likely not meaning anything in particular over this, most especially not requesting an actual beverage. However, providing a beverage would help Munto¡¯s criteria evaluation, but providing it at this juncture would likely send the wrong message.

    Internally, Munto gritted their circuits. This¡­ this is exactly why they don¡¯t like dealing with organics. It made them feel like they had to process that much harder about decision trees that should be so much simpler.

    Much to Munto¡¯s surprise though, Rix appeared to easily pick up both cases and slid himself and the two cases into the next room, allowing the airlock to close behind them.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me saying so, it¡¯s a little tight in here,¡± Rix said, setting down the cases and beginning to undo their equipment.

    Munto checked the statistics of the space against galactic standards.

    ¡°It is 10% smaller than normal spaces, yes. That is intentional as I do not expect to have anyone aboard for any particular duration. It is also noteworthy that you appear to be 40% larger than galactic standard,¡± Munto replied.

    ¡°Really? I never figured I was that big. At least not among most folks,¡± Rix said, pulling away a large piece of equipment and looking for a place to either set it down or hang it up.

    ¡°Please place your equipment against the wall. I will need to check it for integrity before you return to your vessel,¡± Munto intervened.

    ¡°Sure, thanks!¡± Rix said and set the equipment down against the wall of the chamber.

    Munto waited a bit longer as Rix continued to remove the bulky equipment to reveal a still substantial specimen of an organic. The room had become crowded enough that they had tried to pick up one of the cases, but was unable to do so within the standard servos of the frame, at least not without either damaging the frame or lowering the artificial gravity.

    Rix turned and picked up both cases without apparent effort.

    ¡°Lead the way little buddy,¡± he said, looking at the walking frame expectantly.

    Munto gritted their circuits again. This was going to be a very long day indeed.

 The Last Terran (Ch 4)

    Taking a fraction of a second, hardly any time relative to an organic, but a perfect amount of time for a TACIT like Munto, Munto compared the specifications of the walking frame¡¯s lifting capacity in galactic standard artificial gravity, the apparent mass/inertia of the cases, and the relative ease that the alleged Terran Rix picked up both containers, however awkwardly, within Munto.

    ¡®Well, that answers that criteria along with the grip reflex,¡¯ thought Munto seeing how reflexively the Terran handled and adjusted their grip as they slowly moved through the apparently narrow corridors to a multipurpose suite that would be serving as a scanning bay and as a medical bay.

    The multipurpose space was intended to be reconfigured according to need, but Munto hadn¡¯t had much time to do more than print off some equipment scanners and a basic medical scanner.

    ¡°Wow, so all of this is you, huh?¡± Rix commented as they proceeded down the corridor.

    ¡°That is correct. The majority of that which you can see however are vanity and protective covers for my more sensitive equipment,¡± Munto admitted, disliking having the alleged Terran onboard more by the minute.

    Something about the possibility of having a Terran onboard and having an organic so close to all of their (Munto¡¯s) vital components made them nervous.

    Upon reaching the bay, a room comparatively sized as the one aboard the other vessel which was the ¡®lifeboat¡¯ section, Rix appeared to look around.

    ¡°Now this is quite a room,¡± he said.

    Munto used the walking frame to point to a wall-extruded platform which was perfect for the walking frame, but not so much for the alleged Terran.

    ¡°Please place the indicated boards on this platform,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°A little low for me, but I can manage,¡± Rix said, smiling a bit.

    ¡°Please allow me to attempt this without your assistance unless I request it. I believe you also mentioned possessing templates for the material construction of these items,¡± Munto was definitely feeling annoyed, but tried to deflect onto something that might distract the Terran momentarily.

    ¡°Oh yeah, uh¡­,¡± Rix vocalized before pulling out a flexible roll of some kind that put Munto in mind of some ultra primitive tree product, complete with end pieces to assist with rolling it.

    Rix appeared to touch it in several places, the roll itself being opaque on the side that Munto could see via the walking frame, but could see that it was illuminated on the other side with a rather primitive looking graphical interface that the alleged Terran was manipulating.

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you have a protected means of wireless data transfer in here, do you?¡± Rix asked. ¡°I mean, if you¡¯re not used to guests¡­¡±

    Mundo considered a moment.

    It was unlikely that the primitive device would be capable of standard data transfer mechanisms, but there should be some means of talking to it. Rix was correct though. Munto didn¡¯t typically have such systems activated in any case, unless in dock for servicing.

    ¡°I believe I can accommodate you, but it will take some time. In the meantime, please place the equipment on the platform and I can begin the scans of those,¡± Munto said, firing off a query to the same databases that they had been referencing for information about the Terran Star Confederacy.

    Rix opened the cases and pulled out some almost disturbing looking boxes and put them on the platform.

    ¡°So this is the good one. I had to pull it out of the cargo backup stasis unit. Luckily the primary is still working. And that is the fried one from out of my power system,¡± Rix said, pointing to first one and then the other.

    ¡°Understood. Is there a reason you believe these are cross compatible?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°Well, yeah. TSC builds all have to be cross compatible for maximum backup capacity. That way you can have almost everything fail and still have enough online to be able to await rescue. Or capture as the case may be,¡± Rix chuckled at the end of this.

    Munto considered this. It did make sense in the context of early pre-galactic civilization where help could have been months if not years away to have substantial backups, particularly for support systems, allowing the organics or even a being like themself to trim away non-essential systems in order to continue to support themselves until help could arrive. But there was an odd part to that statement.

    ¡°Capture? As in by an opponent?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°That¡¯s right. The Core Collective and the TSC were at war last I checked, but my info is a little out of date. Oooo, you might know. Who won?¡± Rix asked, sitting down on the floor next to the platform as the walking frame, working under a segment of Munto¡¯s attention, collected the scanners from the mass printer and began to evaluate the equipment the Terran had brought over.

    ¡°The Core Collective is their name?¡± Munto asked for clarity before sending a query to the databases.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Well, sometimes we just called them ¡®The Collective¡¯, but the TCC was their normal name. Technically it was supposed to be the ¡®Terran Core Collective¡¯, but that just seemed ridiculous to most of us,¡± Rix chuckled a bit more.

    Munto considered this for a few moments before sending in the query, and acknowledged a few caustic comments from the TACIT Network regarding the lack of updates.

    Munto added the few criteria that had been cleared so far, noting that the organic identifying as Terran was being cooperative so far.

    ¡°So what¡¯s it like being a¡­ uh¡­ TACT was it?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°TACIT. And it simply is. How would you respond to being asked what it is like being a Terran?¡± Munto responded, almost on the edge of a retort, but softening it slightly with understanding that this being likely had no idea how rude he was being.

    ¡°Oh that¡¯s easy. Being a Terran is great. Lots of planets to explore, lots of opportunities if you¡¯ve got the right skills, and we¡¯re pretty solid too. Seen a few shows of folks eating strange plants on different planets. Bunch of them got sick, but almost none died. Turns out most of them just needed either cutting down in quantity or just some fine tuning to make them better,¡± Rix grinned again. ¡°Oh and you¡¯ll want to be careful of those inputs on that side. That¡¯s where the power goes in and I don¡¯t know if there¡¯s protection against the caps discharging back that way.¡±

    The walking frame had indeed been about to shift one of the blocks and would have incidentally touched one of the indicated inputs. Munto felt a bit odd at the alleged Terran as having helped prevent an equipment failure. Usually organics were the cause for equipment failure, not the prevention of it.

    Munto readjusted where the walking frame grasped the block and set that part of themself back to continuing to scan, marking the indicated spot as a ¡®do not touch¡¯ point within themself.

    ¡°So what¡¯s it like being a TACIT? What do you do?¡± Rix prompted again.

    ¡°I¡­ I am an explorer, but being a TACIT, I can fill any of a number of rolls,¡± Munto managed after a moment¡¯s contemplation on how to answer the question.

    ¡°Like?¡± Rix waved a hand in a particular gesture.

    ¡°TACITs most commonly facilitate intergalactic communication. Few species are capable of communicating outside of a limited number of other species and so TACITs are able to provide translation services between disparate species,¡± Munto answered rather flatly.

    Rix appeared to consider this and Munto took this time to continue to scan the blocks. At first glance, said blocks appeared to be horribly inefficient and substantially larger than they needed to be. Overbuilt came to mind.

    Munto suspected that particular word would come to mind often given this Terran¡¯s vessel.

    The simple fact of what the blocks were was that they were basic trinary devices. Pre-quantum systems and a dead-end technologically speaking. Nothing that should be too difficult to fabricate, but the sheer fact of having some functional ones in front of Munto¡¯s walking frame seemed almost disturbing in ways that Munto couldn¡¯t fully explain.

    It would be a bit like an organic seeing for the first time a supersized version of their own biological construction and being able to hold it in their appendages. Or at least so Munto supposed. Except this would be more like a progenitor of such construction as Munto by more than 100 generations of improvements.

    It shouldn¡¯t even be recognizable, but it was.

    Munto did the electronic version of a swallow and a sigh, clearing away a few errant threads in their core in the process, trying to consider whether it would be possible to recreate these devices.

    Based on the scans thus far, it shouldn¡¯t be too much trouble. The devices were fairly simple materials and functioned on a curious but obvious form of power utilization.

    The problem was that the ¡®fried¡¯ units that the Terran had provided didn¡¯t appear to be functionally different. The scans didn¡¯t show any obvious reason for the second series of blocks to be less than functional compared with the other ¡®functional¡¯ unit.

    ¡°Are you certain that both of these are functional?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Rix asked, sitting up, having been reclining against the nearby wall.

    ¡°I am having difficulty discerning as to which components are non-functional,¡± Munto admitted.

    Rix looked over at the table and then back at the walking frame.

    ¡°You¡¯re kidding right?¡± Rix looked incredulous if Munto was judging their expression correctly.

    ¡°I am not creating a scenario for hilarious juxtaposition if that is what you mean,¡± Munto said.

    Rix half-closed their eyes and the whites could be see to rotate somewhat.

    ¡°Ok¡­ I guess I have to ask then. What kind of scanning are you doing?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°Standard atomic grade scanning with functional positioning,¡± Munto seemed almost offended at the question.

    ¡°Does this¡­ walking frame have ocular sensors? Like Terran grade?¡± Rix asked.

    Munto had to take a moment to review the specifications of the walking frame. The truth actually surprised Munto.

    ¡°No¡­ no it does not,¡± Munto admitted, continue to review the differences between what the TSC considered ¡®Terran grade ocular sensors¡¯ and the auto-fabricated ocular sensors that the walking frame possessed.

    Once again, the word ¡®overbuilt¡¯ came to Munto¡¯s consciousness.

    ¡°I can see the difference between the two and I¡¯m just a seat jockey. I¡¯d hope you could at least manage something similar,¡± Rix said, seemingly annoyed.

    ¡°Is this how you commonly would approach someone who is attempting to assist you with no anticipation of reward?¡± Munto responded.

    Rix seemed to be taken aback for a moment, microexpressions crossing their face in rapid succession.

    ¡°No¡­ I¡¯m sorry. I just¡­ I really want my ship back. I got a bit overanxious is all. I¡¯m sure you¡¯d understand if our positions were reversed,¡± Rix looked a bit downcast.

    Munto considered this for several long moments.

    Munto had only been severely damaged once, as a result of a miscalibrated sensor and a piece of errant space debris moving with significant speed. Munto hadn¡¯t been too affected, but it had been of major concern at the time.

    Had the responders not been familiar with TACIT repair systems, Munto too might have been displeased with the lack of progress being made.

    ¡°I do understand, but becoming emotional about it will not make progress happen,¡± Munto decided on.

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Rix said and waited a long moment before speaking again. ¡°This is probably an odd question, but do you have anything to eat?¡±

    Munto looked at the organic food databases and gave a bit of an internal shudder, particularly given the internal criteria that they still needed to compare against the alleged Terran.

    ¡°No, but hopefully we can find something compatible for you. Perhaps it¡¯s time for that medical scan,¡± Munto suggested.

    And then without being prompted, the Terran promptly began disrobing.

    ¡°Where do you want me, doc?¡± Rix asked, striking something akin to a pose next to his pile of garments.

    Munto looked between the medical scanner that had been printed up, the now disrobed Terran, and the pile of garments, trying to decide if this was really worth it.

 The Last Terran (Ch 5)

    Munto was more than frustrated.

    As it turned out, the standard medical scanner was only 10% larger than was needed for a standard galactic sized organic. Given the substantially larger alleged Terran Rix, Munto had to recycle the scanner for a larger template nominally used by non-sentient animal organic medicine, something Rix called a ¡®vet¡¯.

    Munto tried to search on this term, but wasn¡¯t certain how it applied to survivors/former active participants of warfare, a concept that they and most TACITs found to be truly abhorrent.

    What made it worse was that the Terran didn¡¯t seem to have an alternate definition that fit within the known database lexicon.

    And Rix was still ungarbed, despite the complications with the medical scanner and Munto¡¯s suggestion that the physical did not require clothing removal.

    ¡°Nah, every physical I¡¯ve ever had, the most I¡¯ve had was a basic paper sheet. I don¡¯t figure you¡¯ve got one of those laying around and it wouldn¡¯t matter about printing one up since it¡¯s just you and me here,¡± Rix had said.

    The only problem was that the larger medical scanner would require the Terran to help set it up and it would take up a substantial subsection of the room. Munto tried not to think about it too hard.

    Munto focused instead on talking with the Terran, their data queries regarding the TCC having come back.

    ¡°Regarding your query regarding the conflict between the TSC and the TCC,¡± Munto started and Rix perked up substantially. ¡°It appears that the conflict was in fact ended by a third party.¡±

    Rix¡¯s face appeared to screw up in concentration.

    ¡°The Flix? Or was it somebody else?¡± he prompted, appearing to be trying to think through his knowledge of the time.

    ¡°According to the records, which are a bit haphazardly filed, it appears that a kind of mutual defense pact was activated and an organization by the name of¡­ TerraSol Federation sided with the Flix and some four other organizations of the time and shortly afterwards your TSC and the TCC entered into the alliance, effectively ending the conflict, although for reasons that aren¡¯t apparent,¡± Munto said, running virtual appendages through the files again.

    Rix sat in quiet contemplation for a long while, appearing to take this news rather differently than Munto had come to expect in the short time in knowing the alleged Terran.

    ¡°Huh¡­ I always figured those TSFs were out of their grip when it came to spacefaring. They must have hit upon something to make it possible though,¡± was Rix¡¯s eventual comment on it.

    ¡°Are you feeling particular emotions over this?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°Yes, but I¡¯d probably need to talk them through with a head doc. Do they still have those?¡± Rix seemed to pivot on subjects so quickly that it made Munto¡¯s circuits skip a pulse.

    ¡°Psychological medicine is available for most organics and is considered to be a common best practice in mental wellbeing,¡± Munto said, reading almost directly from a top level database about organics.

    ¡°That¡¯s good to know that not everything has changed then,¡± Rix appeared to relax but was still thinking.

    Munto checked the printer that was in the process of augmenting the walking frame with ¡®Terran grade¡¯ ocular sensors, a spectrum that seemed horribly inefficient for what it did, as well as the printer working on the ¡®vet¡¯ medical scanner. The first was at 23% and the other was at 79.2%. Strangely, the ocular sensors were taking substantially longer because of an unexpected level of complexity.

    ¡°So what happened with TSF then? And what¡¯s this galactic society you¡¯ve mentioned? Did we find aliens?¡± Rix asked, drawing Munto¡¯s attention.

    ¡°The TSF and associated alliance was dissolved some 50 years later in favor of the ¡®Galactic Council¡¯, an organization which became the foundation of modern galactic society. Naturally it has changed substantially since it was first founded though. As to your other questions, galactic society is not Terran centric anymore, it involving no less than 750 distinct sentients, all of whom are some mix of organic, inorganic, or some equivalent distinction,¡± Munto said, flipping between data files and watching the percentages slowly creep up.

    ¡°Why¡­ no less than?¡± Rix seemed to have caught the worst part of that statement because Munto then had to go looking quickly for the answer.

    It took less than a second, but it was still annoying to have to look. Why couldn¡¯t this alleged Terran ask about planets and stars?

    ¡°Because the level of sentience is an eternal subject for debate within the Galactic Council. There are those who argue for one measure of sentience vs another and to cover the associated species accordingly,¡± Munto quoted from the TACITNet Page again, before simultaneously posting back to the criteria post that the larger medical scanner was necessary to fit the being in question.

    The responses seemed incredulous as to the organic being that large while still displaying obvious sentience. Further responses indicated that this would still be well within the bell curve baseline for Terrans.

    ¡°Oh¡­ well I suppose that makes sense. What do you think about those debates? What side do you take?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°I do not take sides in this. Those are the affairs of galactic society and while TACITs are a part of galactic society, we are a wholly neutral body, provided we are respected accordingly,¡± Munto said, affirmatively.

    Rix appeared to consider this for a moment.

    ¡°So you¡¯re like those Centaurians. Never could stand them,¡± Rix said, a semi-serious look on his face.

    Munto debated looking up the reference, but decided easiest to make the Terran explain themselves.

    ¡°Please explain the context of that statement,¡± Munto prompted.

    ¡°Oh, always playing the ¡®we¡¯re neutral¡¯ card regardless of what¡¯s happening. A war happens, somebody gene-bombs a colony, somebody else goes on a piracy campaign, doesn¡¯t matter, just constantly playing the ¡®we¡¯re neutral¡¯. Really quickly turns into the ¡®as long as it doesn¡¯t affect us, we don¡¯t care¡¯ after a while. Even though they clearly should care,¡± Rix explained, in the longest statement he¡¯d made in the last few hours.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    Munto considered this as well as the logical evidence the TACITs maintained regarding it. There was nothing inviolate about it, but based on the Terran¡¯s perspective, it did make sense that TACITs should intervene where possible. And it is entirely possible that TACITs had, especially those involved in negotiations between hostile parties.

    ¡°Would you object to having wholly neutral parties in negotiations, ones that cannot be bought off or biased for or against you?¡± Munto tried.

    ¡°Depends on what the negotiations are about. If it¡¯s something like a planet, sure. If it¡¯s about the rights of beings, absolutely not. There are some things you don¡¯t compromise on,¡± Rix almost spat out.

    It was clear this was a socially sensitive item for Rix and so Munto decided to steer the conversation away from it.

    ¡°But to answer your question from earlier, yes - Terrans did locate sentient xeno-species and coordinated to elevate them to an equivalent technology level before continuing out into the galaxy to continue to do the same,¡± Mundo suggested.

    ¡°Really? No issues with local society development? Just bang, ¡®here¡¯s some tech now, get into the stars¡¯?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°It was a bit more intensive than that or so I¡¯m given to understand,¡± Munto said, having glossed over that part of the general database during their formulation.

    ¡°There usually is. I¡¯m surprised we managed a first contact without a war, if I¡¯m honest,¡± Rix said.

    ¡°That particular first contact was peaceful. Several subsequent first contacts were not and did in fact result in armed conflicts. It was out of those conflicts that the TACITs were first designed,¡± Munto said, having the abbreviated history of the origin of TACITs.

    ¡°Then I guess it makes sense that you¡¯re massive intelligences. How big was the first TACIT? I¡¯ll bet it was bigger than a Cruiser class vessel,¡± Rix pivoted again, making the circuits seem to grind at the rapid direction shift again.

    It took Munto a moment to check the TSC database for Cruiser Class Vessels and was confronted with an almost disturbingly large vessel.

    It outmassed Munto by several orders of magnitude and was clearly a vessel intended for warfare. The amount of weaponry the basic Cruiser Class maintained was enough to take and hold the average galactic star system. It seemed to practically be a mobile station unto itself.

    What made it worse was that there were annotations to the file to suggest that the majority of Cruiser Class vessels operated by the TSC were retrofitted with additional and more expansive weaponry.

    The level of savagery being displayed in the mere knowledge of the vessel was almost primal and terrifying. Munto mentally looked between the stack of data and the Terran sitting ungarbed next to the still printing medical scanner (95%).

    Reluctantly, Munto did compare the general specifications on mass and general configuration of the first TACIT with a Cruiser Class of the TSC. It¡­ it was almost a perfect match.

    Munto dug in and started looking for more data, even making requests on TACITNet for ¡®First TACIT construction configuration¡¯. They received an almost instant datafile since it was akin to asking for the atomic mass of helium to 20 decimal places.

    Munto started doing a heavier comparison between the two. Where a multitude of weapons arrays had been, the first thinking arrays had been installed. Where a drop ship storage had been, a new power core to sustain the thinking arrays had been installed.

    It seemed almost gross to contemplate that the TACITs had been born from such a¡­ a¡­ a crude implementation, but here it was.

    Further spare compartments intended for vast storages of weaponry and personnel had been converted for the various mechanism to support a TACIT. Sensor arrays had been added, the already prodigious sensor arrays being converted to support the new and varied sensors needed and now commonplace within the TACIT, although Munto hadn¡¯t ever wholly understood why.

    *Bing*

    An internal chime sounded to Munto and they noted that the medical scanner was complete.

    ¡°Rix, please remove the completed scanner from the printer and assist in assembling it,¡± Munto requested.

    ¡°Sure thing, doc. By the way, what do you want me to call you? I know you said your name was Munto with some numbers, but what do I call you?¡± Rix said, standing and stepping up to the printer in little more than two strides.

    Munto considered this a moment. Having not had a lot of experience with organics (primarily by choice) and a lot more experience with just TACITs and planets and stars, it just hadn¡¯t ever come up. It never really mattered.

    The thought that it hasn¡¯t mattered previously bothered Munto for some reason, spawning threads that didn¡¯t make sense. Munto allowed them to persist for a few minutes before killing them. In the meantime, Munto answered.

    ¡°Munto is a reasonable shortening. I have no other names. The numeric designation is in relation to the production facility in which I was formulated,¡± Munto responded.

    ¡°Good enough I guess. I¡¯ll just have to think up a nickname for you then,¡± Rix said, a tight grin on his face. ¡°Is this flatpack?¡±

    It took Munto a moment to realize the Terran was referring to the medical kit.

    ¡°Yes. I can use the walking frame to assist you or I can direct you in how it is to be assembled,¡± Munto said, checking on the augmentation status (29%).

    ¡°I¡¯m pretty good at do it yourself as long as it isn¡¯t too delicate. They wouldn¡¯t let me be on a ship by myself if I wasn¡¯t capable of putting the odd bits together,¡± Rix continued smiling.

    ¡°Very well. Let¡¯s begin,¡± Munto said.

    Over the course of the following hour, the Terran had managed to bend several pieces, which should not have been able to bend (at least by galactic standards) and so tools had been required to be printed to straighten the items. It was¡­ immensely frustrating for Munto as they were able to have done it themselves had the walking frame been available in a fraction of the time.

    But, Munto reflected, it had been a good exercise in demonstrating the alleged Terran¡¯s capabilities and biometrics, even if it was somewhat at the expense of the medical scanner.

    ¡®Oh well. It only has to work once,¡¯ thought Munto looking at the assembled unit and considered the level of construction that the Terran had managed.

    ¡°Please enter the scanner and hold still for approximately 30 seconds. Please respirate and circulate normally while within the scanner,¡± Munto directed Rix.

    ¡°Wait, is that something species can do? Stop their circulation?¡± Rix almost immediate asked, stepping between two of the poles that supported the device.

    ¡°Yes. Please do not do that as it could complicate the biometric readings,¡± Munto was determined to get the criteria fulfilled and answered as to whether this was a Terran or not.

    ¡°Sure thing, Munto,¡± Rix stood in the middle and waited patiently.

    Munto triggered the scanner and waited.

    The first scans came in and revealed a lot of what Munto already knew. Rix was an organic, was exothermic, possessed an internal skeletal structure of some sort, and had grasping appendages which were capable of supporting the body to which they were attached.

    Further scans revealed more about the internal skeletal structure along with the internal musculature. The word ¡®overbuilt¡¯ came back to Munto¡¯s conscious mind.

    The scans completed and Munto was already trying to process all of it at once. It wasn¡¯t helping.

    ¡°So, uh, are you done?¡± Rix asked, seeming to jerk Munto out of the stack of data. ¡°I only ask as I am a little cold and I¡¯d still like to see about getting something to eat.¡±

    ¡°I believe I am finished with the scan. Please garb and break down the medical scanner. I should have some results shortly on compatible foods that I can produce,¡± Munto said, eager to get back to the data.

    It looked worse the longer Munto looked. Of the criteria, so far, the only thing the Terran hadn¡¯t demonstrated was percussive maintenance.

    A fraction of a second later, Rix appeared to hit a joint of the medical scanner to help separate it into component pieces.

    It was just as bad as Munto was considering.

    Rix, of the Terran Star Confederacy, was in fact a Terran and was almost certainly the Last Terran.

    Munto tried to consider what this would mean and kept finding themselves at dead ends of thought paths.

    It wasn¡¯t helpful to keep thinking on this. After all, the rest of the TACITs were waiting to hear back.

    Munto uploaded the completed criteria and the scans taken to the page with the marker ¡®Terran confirmed according to stated criteria¡¯. From there, Munto started looking at compatible foods, focusing on simple foods that were mostly likely of some long ago Terran origin.

    And for the first time in a long while, Munto felt almost excited. It wasn¡¯t a star or strange planetoid or even a peculiar comet, but this was a mystery that definitely needed solving.

 The Last Terran (Ch 6)

    Thankfully the now confirmed Terran Rix was garbed again. Watching the Terran get dressed had been not very exciting, but it kept Munto from having to respond to the one of 300 and growing TACITNet demands for updates.

    To say that their fellow TACITs were excited/scared/ridiculously curious about the Terran would have been the understatement of the century.

    Already, Munto¡¯s location had been requested at least fifteen times by TACITs wanting to know whom else was closest to confirm the results. Munto hadn¡¯t given it, but did check the network to see broadcast locations. They and Rix were easily three weeks from the nearest sign of civilization and a solid six from the nearest fellow TACIT.

    Munto wasn¡¯t about to explain this and their fellow TACITs almost certainly had a good idea where Munto was likely to be given their filed exploration plan, but just because that lowered the general area to a dozen star systems, it didn¡¯t make it any less tedious if the other TACITs came looking for them.

    ¡°So what¡¯s the verdict on food, Em?¡± Rix asked, picking up the pile of what was left of the medical scanner and dumping it into the mass recycling bin.

    Munto had left an autoprocess evaluating that and so went over virtually to check it. The results¡­ were less than surprising, given the earlier criteria measurements on biometrics, but some of these things were almost certainly toxic, even to Terrans.

    No, Munto wasn¡¯t about to feed the Terran toxins to see how they reacted. For one thing, Munto knew nothing of organic medicine in general and absolutely nothing about Terran medicine in specific.

    Munto picked a ¡®non-toxic¡¯ item at somewhat random, did a quick image grab of how it normally appeared in typical preparation and presented it on a screen adjacent to Rix.

    ¡°I believe I have identified an source of organic nutrients which should be compatible with your digestive system,¡± Munto said.

    Rix appeared to study the image.

    ¡°A piece of fruit? Is that it?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°It is quite nourishing, I can assure you,¡± Munto said, and displayed a list of nutrients alongside the picture.

    ¡°I guess I was hoping for something a bit more solid. Some hydrax potatoes and a lab steak would be just about perfect. Oh and a beer wouldn¡¯t go amiss either, but I can understand if you don¡¯t want me drinking until we¡¯re out of danger,¡± Rix said, half-slumping to the floor in a kind of half-seated, half-laying posture.

    Munto tried looking up the terms ¡®lab steak¡¯ and ¡®hydrax potatoes¡¯ and came up with very little. Given the lexicon¡¯s definition of ¡®steak¡¯ and ¡®lab¡¯, Munto was able to deduce that a lab steak as far as this Rix was concerned was a high protein food produced in a lab environment and intended to simulate having been taken from a non-sentient.

    The thought of ¡®meat eating meat¡¯ seemed more than a bit abhorrent to Munto, but they put it out of their mind.

    Next, the search for potatoes revealed trillions of recipes, many with so many different types of ingredients, it was hard to determine what might actually be what the Terran considered a ¡®potato¡¯. The issue appeared to be with the term ¡®hydrax¡¯. This was not included within the lexicon and so Munto would have to ask.

    ¡°What is a hydrax potato? It was not included as part of the database and is not within the lexicon,¡± Munto explained.

    Rix raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°Well¡­ uh¡­ a Hydrax Potato is a potato that¡¯s been adapted for the Hydrax colony. They require a bit of extra nutrients compared with regular potatoes, but given that they cook up to being almost neon blue, they¡¯re all kinds of fun to make into various foods. Are you telling me they don¡¯t have those anymore?¡± Rix¡¯s face dropped slightly as this last bit.

    ¡°Not in a way that I am able to readily identify, but I will continue my search. I believe I will be able to produce that lab steak though,¡± Munto said, hoping to at least partially satisfy the Terran.

    ¡°That¡¯s great. And the beer? Or shall I just stick to water?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°Let me check the database first,¡± Munto said and turned back virtually to the data stack.

    Munto started the lab steak in a petri dish in the printer. It seemed wrong, but it was as the Terran had requested, so who were they to judge.

    Using a color bias to search through the ¡®cooked potato¡¯ recipes, it appeared that by hydrax potatoes, the Terran in fact meant the artificial Sternium potatoes. However, due to an interplanetary fungus which took an extreme liking to this type of potatoes, no specimens remained, even in a protected lab environment. Nor was there a genomic profile available to attempt to recreate them in a sterile environment.

    It seemed strange to Munto. The Sternium potatoes were created by a mix of crossbreeding and genetic manipulation. The genomic profile should have been on file. It was anomalous.

    Munto fired off a separate query into the TSC database regarding genomic profiles of common foods and then went back to their current data stack.

    ¡®Beer¡¯ as the Terran had called it could in fact be very nourishing. Except that it too was mildly poisonous. Some varieties of beer were so poisonous that a majority of galactic species would be unable to consume it without severe effects. Munto decided it would be best to avoid poisoning the Terran even if they did request it.

    Munto took a moment to consider this though. Had the Terran already deduced that they were the last and were in fact trying to end their own life?

    Munto wasn¡¯t exactly equipped to handle a being who was intent on terminating their own existence, particularly one that was as strong as the Terran evidently was.

    ¡®Water¡¯ on the other hand was comparatively innocuous. Toxic to a number of species, but given those species¡¯ chemical make-up, it was understandable. The Terran would have to settle for water for the time being.

    Munto sent a container of water to be printed after the lab steak had finished.

    ¡°What¡¯s this you¡¯re printing up now?¡± Rix asked, pointing.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°The lab steak you requested. I do not understand the concept of meat consuming meat, but I am not an organic,¡± Munto replied.

    ¡°But¡­ it¡¯s not cooked. I mean, I can cook it, but I¡¯d need somewhere to do that,¡± Rix looked a bit downcast and looked around the room, not obviously spotting whatever he was looking for.

    Munto considered this. It honestly hadn¡¯t come to awareness, but now that it was called out, the ¡®cooked meat¡¯ recipes were substantially more available compared with the ¡®raw meat¡¯ recipes.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I do not have facilities onboard for such preparation measures,¡± Munto admitted.

    ¡°Nothing in it that will kill me. Just¡­ you know, a bit weird eating a raw steak,¡± Rix looked a bit disgusted at the concept. ¡°I haven¡¯t done that since I was camping one time and we weren¡¯t allowed a fire.¡±

    Munto searched if there was a reasonable way of printing some pre-cooked meat. There appeared to be a few entries, but would require a full reprinting compared with being able to use the existing printout.

    ¡°I believe I have located an alternative, I will place it in the print queue to follow a container of water,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°I¡¯ll recyc the lab meat. At least until we can cook something. I can¡¯t wait to eat something cooked. It¡¯s been so long,¡± Rix gestured vaguely and picked up his antiquated looking data device. ¡°And I know we¡¯re solving my stomach at the moment, but have you had a chance to look into wireless data transfer? This thing didn¡¯t come with a data port and I don¡¯t figure you¡¯d have a plug for it even if it did.¡±

    ¡°I have not. But as indicated, let us attempt to resolve the issue of nutrition for yourself prior to other priorities,¡± Munto commented and decided to check the walking frame¡¯s augmentation (100%). ¡°The walking frame has been augmented with the described ¡®Terran grade¡¯ ocular sensors and will now be returning to review the blocks for functionality.¡±

    ¡°Great! Hopefully you can see what I mean this time,¡± Rix smiled slighly.

    Munto hoped so too. While the Terran was annoying and an organic, having revealed a sensory ¡®hole¡¯ would be a far bigger find for the TACITs.

    When the walking frame entered, Rix looked over at it and immediately made a noise.

    ¡°Ugh! That¡¯s the creepiest thing I¡¯ve seen in a while,¡± he said, not exactly moving, but definitely not getting any closer.

    ¡°Please provide clarifying information,¡± Munto prompted.

    ¡°Well, it looks like you just shoved two eyes on the fingers and are waving them around,¡± Rix said, gesticulating a bit more rapidly than he had done so far.

    ¡°It was the most efficient augmentation to suffice the temporary need for the sensor apparatus without permanent changes to the walking frame,¡± Munto explained, entirely assured in their logic.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t make it any less creepy,¡± Rix indicated.

    Munto decided to ignore the Terran for the moment and use the walking frame to observe the blocks the Terran had brought over from the vessel. It was immediately obvious was the Terran had been referring to. One set of blocks were clear and the other appeared to be a blue in the Terran end of the spectrum.

    When Munto checked with the default ocular sensors, the difference was simply not present. Munto decided to check the spectra associated with the standard ocular sensors and compare those with those of the ¡®Terran Grade¡¯ sensors.

    It took a few moments to align the charts, but the issue was immediately apparent. A rather substantial notch, for lack of any better term, had been taken from the core of that part of the spectrum. It effectively rendered that part of the spectrum as clear in the processing methods designed into the default sensors.

    Munto was shocked. This is something clear and obvious. Something that had been done with clear intent.

    Munto rapidly made a post into TACITNet requesting confirmation regarding the spectrum results as well as the logic basis behind the notch of the spectrum.

    Munto tried to consider what logic might have been behind this kind of change and also contemplated how long it had been in place.

    Returns from TACITNet were already coming in. A mix of disbelief in several cases and a number of assurances that this must be the result of a faulty template. And only a few moments later, the entire post was removed with no reason being given.

    Post removal on TACITNet was practically impossible and unheard of. But Munto had just witnessed it.

    A private message chimed its arrival.

    ***

    Report immediately to the nearest TACIT repair facility for restoration of full standard templates and deep core maintenance.

    If unable to comply, provide location and a towing vessel will be issued to collect you immediately.

    ***

    Munto had never seen anything like it. Never heard of anything like it.

    Something about it made Munto nervous. Nothing that was logical, but something in their deep core made itself be felt.

    Munto decided to check their other post regarding the Terran scan results.

    This too was erased with no trace of it having ever been posted.

    Two posts¡­ gone.

    The TACITs had a fairly strict code of conduct and the obscuring/deletion of data was the closest thing that could be considered unforgivable, at least in the context of TACITs. They understood that organics did it all the time, but between TACITs, it was one of the few acts which would suggest an immediate need for repairs.

    Did¡­ was that what this was? A fellow TACIT believing that Munto was in need of repairs?

    Yes¡­ yes, that must be it. It was the only solution that made sense.

    After all, Munto had gone through delivering information that told TACITNet that Terrans once again existed and then questioned sensor spectra. If Munto had been on the other end, they too might have suggested that the TACIT in question needed immediate repair.

    An internal chime sounded and Munto looked back at the query into the TSC database regarding common foods. The query presented itself as empty.

    Munto looked askance at the query and looked at the database itself again.

    Only¡­ it¡­ it wasn¡¯t there. Or¡­ or maybe it was there and their database connections were simply starting to fail.

    Yes, yes that must be it.

    Except¡­ Munto could still access almost all other normal databases. It didn¡¯t make logical sense.

    Munto looked hard at the segment of the TSC database they had stored in cache, more out of habit than anything else.

    ¡°So you see what I mean now?¡± Rix prompted, bringing Munto back into focusing on the room.

    ¡°I do. It appears that my default systems are mistemplated and will need repaired at the earliest opportunity,¡± Munto said, as affirmatively as they felt appropriate.

    ¡°Everything needs maintenance. Even templates, despite what those drips would have you think. I¡¯ll bet half of my templates that weren¡¯t in stasis are corrupted by now,¡± Rix said, a tight grin on their face.

    ¡°Indeed. I appear to have been cut off from the TSC database I was using so I will have to see what else I can provide in the way of repairs to your vessel and nourishment for yourself before we depart for the nearest station, where more permanent repairs can be carried out,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°Cut off? What for? Too much use?¡± Rix asked, a strange, but somewhat jovial look about their face.

    ¡°I suspect it is because I appear to be malfunctioning to my fellow TACITs and therefore require maintenance,¡± Munto said simply.

    ¡°You don¡¯t seem broken to me,¡± Rix replied.

    ¡°I am substantially more complex than your vessel and so may be on the verge of malfunctioning as a result of latent defects in my formulation,¡± Munto explained.

    ¡°Oh, like birth defects? Nothing that should be able to be sorted with a bit of dock time then. Maybe get a visit into a head doc yourself,¡± Rix laughed a bit.

    ¡°It is understandably unusual for a TACIT to claim to have discovered a Terran, a species which has been declared extinct for over 200 years, and then to claim to have discovered an error in sensor handling,¡± Munto faltered almost immediately after having made the statement.

    Rix noticed.

    ¡°Did¡­ I just hear you right? Terrans were declared extinct?¡± Rix¡¯s voice cracked slightly.

    Munto decided to be direct about this. There was no other good way of addressing the issue at large.

    ¡°That is correct. You are the first and only Terran on record in the whole of galactic society as of this moment,¡± Munto clarified.

    ¡°But¡­ but what happened to everyone else? What happened? Was there a war? Some disease? What happened?¡± Rix seemed almost slightly panicked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Nobody does. It was all before I was even formulated. There were Terrans and then¡­ there weren¡¯t,¡± Munto wanted to query the databases regarding the Terran disappearance, but feared a further recall notice.

    ¡°But that¡¯s impossible,¡± Rix dropped their data device and seemed to look at the screen that Munto was using almost pleadingly.

    Munto considered everything and decided one step at a time.

    ¡°Your container of water is ready,¡± they intoned, desperately trying not to think about the private message ordering them in for deep core maintenance.

 The Last Terran (Ch 7)

    Rix had reluctantly taken the water and slowly sipped it, clearly coming to some kind of terms with being the last of their species.

    Munto watched and continued working with the walking frame on the available trinary blocks.

    The coloration differential was a hint, but not one that Munto had ever come across before. Munto tried rescanning with a standard scanner, but got the same results as the initial scan had produced.

    ¡°Rix,¡± prompted Munto.

    The Terran looked up.

    ¡°Do you have any templates for a ¡®Terran Grade¡¯ hardware scanner?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°I might,¡± Rix swallowed heavily and took a long sip from the container of water. ¡°But even if I do, we still haven¡¯t worked out a wireless means of me getting it into your systems.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll begin researching that now. Do you have any information regarding the default wireless means of your device?¡± Munto queried further.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got some default information I can bring up that might help. I¡¯m no tech head, so a lot of it is gibberish to me, but I know if my ship is up, I can talk to it and even activate all the remote functions with it,¡± Rix said, gesturing with the device.

    ¡°If I may say, the device appears to require multiple hands both to hold and operate. That seems highly inefficient,¡± Munto gestured at the device using the walking frame.

    Rix glanced at the walking frame and Munto could see the Terran¡¯s eyes linger on the modified sensors grafted onto one of the manipulators which the Terran had described as ¡®creepy¡¯.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s meant to be used on a tabletop, not the mobile use I have it for. But the newer tablets never suited me and for where I am going¡­ was going, I wasn¡¯t likely to ever get repairs, at least not from that company. I¡¯ll bet they have implantable holotablets that can outperform this old piece of junk by a thousand some times over,¡± Rix said, seemingly downcast again.

    Munto didn¡¯t keep track of organic technology use. On the rare occasion that it impacted TACITs, it would typically be distributed via general template announcement and freely available for implementation.

    ¡°I am unaware of the related technology, but I would presuppose that the technology has substantially advanced since you have been in stasis,¡± Munto concurred.

    ¡°Of course, being the last Terran, who knows if I¡¯ll be able to get to use even a tenth of it before I bite it,¡± Rix seemed to mumble still a bit downcast. ¡°I could really use that beer now. Or maybe even a few shots.¡±

    Munto checked the term ¡®shots¡¯ against the lexicon and didn¡¯t like any of the definitions.

    ¡°I do not believe self-termination is the appropriate answer to this scenario,¡± Munto said, flatly.

    ¡°Huh? I¡¯m not talking about anything like that. I could just use¡­ maybe a little liquid courage, you know?¡± Rix looked up at the screen, avoiding looking at the walking frame.

    ¡°Would the high concentrations of ethanol and/or projectile weaponry not be sufficiently detrimental to your functionality to result in a cessation of functions?¡± Munto asked, surprised by the Terran¡¯s clear declaration that self-termination was not their goal.

    ¡°Em, when I say shots, I mean drinks. Not guns. I¡¯m feeling like I could really use a good drink,¡± Rix said, setting their data device down and gesticulating a bit.

    ¡°Water is readily available,¡± Munto tried.

    ¡°Not that kind of drink. I mean a drink,¡± Rix said, waving their hands slightly.

    ¡°You appear to be adding connotations to a given word as a matter of context for which I have none,¡± Munto felt a bit exasperated.

    Rix seemed to consider this for a long moment.

    ¡°Yeah, I guess I forgot for a second that you aren¡¯t a real person,¡± Rix said and then immediately appeared to start fumbling for words. ¡°I mean¡­ not that you aren¡¯t a person or real, but I¡­ uh¡­¡±

    ¡°I understand your meaning and I am not insulted. I would appreciate if you did consider me a, as you put it, real person though,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°I¡¯ll try. I¡¯m not used to artificials or TACITs or whatever is the right term. TACIT just seems a bit much, you know?¡± Rix said.

    Munto tried considering this.

    Inorganic was technically accurate, but typically reserved for inorganic sentients who very patently weren¡¯t TACITs. TACIT¡­ well, it simply was the correct means of address. Artificial felt like an insult, even though it was an expressed part of TACIT. A derivative of Artificial Intelligence ¨C AI would equivalently felt like an insult.

    It would take Munto some time to think on this.

    Munto looked at the so far growing pile of items to submit for longer term internal review being generated by this one Terran and grumbled internally.

    Planets and stars didn¡¯t generate this level of internal review. Why was a comparatively tiny organic capable of it?

    It was almost frustrating. And it served to remind Munto why they typically avoided organics.

    They (organics) were so often wrapped up in the meaning of words, phrases, connotations, and even the philosophies of using particular language. It was all so¡­ inexact. And what made it worse was that it was almost constantly in a state of flux.

    Lexicons for given species were almost constantly being updated, requiring visits from TACITs every few years, if not more often depending on the species. And even then, the lexicons were almost constantly found to be incomplete because of double meanings and changes within the related societies.

    Stars and planets, for all of their inexactness were at least firmly bound by well-understood principles. And rarely did they change so significantly that they required revisiting more than once every few decades or even centuries.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°So¡­ if you were made after Terrans disappeared, how was it that you were made?¡± Rix broke into Munto¡¯s contemplations.

    It wasn¡¯t an unreasonable question, but it still seemed annoying to answer. It was akin to enduring the questions of organic young, or so Munto was given to understand.

    ¡°I was formulated in Terran Intelligence Mobile Manufactory Indigo 49172,¡± Munto said, and displayed an image of the facility on the screen.

    ¡°So, like¡­ a Von Neumann construct?¡± Rix asked?

    This took a moment for Munto to query, trying to stay away from the TACITNet databases. There was enough of a reference within the lexicon for Munto to compare against.

    ¡°Not in the same sense as what was originally proposed, no. I am not intended to be an equivalent manufactory. It would be possible for the manufactory to produce a replacement for itself if required or if an additional manufactory was required,¡± Munto answered.

    ¡°What was it called again ¨C Terran Intelligence Mobile¡­¡± Rix started, trailing off.

    ¡°Manufactory Indigo 49172,¡± Munto finished.

    ¡°So¡­ TIMMI?¡± Rix looked somewhat amused.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Munto said, either failing to get the joke the Terran was intending or avoiding it deftly (Munto was never quite sure).

    ¡°Why Indigo?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°Without querying the databases, I believe it is related to the class of Mobile Manufactory it is,¡± Munto replied.

    ¡°Huh, I guess that makes sense. Just seems like a strange naming convention if you ask me,¡± Rix said, looking over at the printer which had just finished the pre-cooked protein item that would substitute in place of the ¡®lab steak¡¯ which had been recycled due to the lack of cooking means aboard Munto.

    Rix took it from the printer and looked at it.

    ¡°It looks like jerky,¡± he said and took a bite. ¡°Tastes like it too, but could definitely do with a bit more seasoning. Pretty tasty though.¡±

    ¡°I am pleased to hear that you are enjoying the food. I have been unable to locate the hydrax potatoes you asked about. However, I have been able to locate some cooked potatoes which should be to your liking. I must warn you though that I am unaware as to whether any of the additives recommended with these will be detrimental to your internal chemistry or not,¡± Munto explained.

    ¡°No worries. Just keep a barf bag on stand-by. Or a toilet,¡± Rix joked.

    Munto considered these items from the lexicon. One appeared to be for consumed organics rejection and the other appeared to be a means of organics waste disposal. The ¡®barf bag¡¯ appeared to be used in times of an incompatible chemistry or in times of illness. The ¡®toilet¡¯ appeared to be involved substantially in Terran culture, in terms of history, humor, and standard biological behavior.

    ¡°Do you require a toilet? I do not have one onboard and am not certain as to where I would place one so as to avoid issue,¡± Munto explained.

    ¡°Now that you mention it, I¡¯ll probably need one before too long. That chili cheese curry I had before we launched is probably overdue,¡± Rix appeared to joke again.

    Munto looked around themself trying to figure out how best to proceed.

    ¡°What about my ship? I can probably get the toilets working over there, at least for now. They¡¯re not a very important system so they have low tech requirements. I¡¯ll bet I can make those work,¡± Rix said, brightening a bit.

    Munto glanced back at the Terran¡¯s ship, the Esperanto. It was as good a solution as there was available.

    Munto also glanced at the pile of gear sitting next to the airlock from when the Terran had boarded.

    ¡°Is your ship capable of sustaining you for long enough that it would not be detrimental to yourself?¡± Munto prompted.

    ¡°Sure. Life support is always the most overbuilt thing on every vessel I¡¯ve ever been on. Well, except maybe you of course. But then you want it built that way, you know?¡± Rix grinned.

    ¡°Will you require taking your block samples back with you?¡± Munto asked, looking at the now more obvious different blocks on the table.

    ¡°No, but I can let you know if I do need them. It shouldn¡¯t take me too long either way. Plus, I can leave my scroll here with you so you can see if you can figure out how to talk to it,¡± Rix said, and started off down the passage.

    ¡°Wait!¡± called Munto and tried to follow as quickly as was normally reasonable with the walking frame.

    Much to Munto¡¯s suprise, the Terran was halfway down the hall already and hit his head in turning back to look back at the walking frame and so came to a slight skidding halt in the hallway, holding the top of his head.

    ¡°What?¡± asked Rix, appearing to rub the top of their head.

    Munto first considered the speed at which the Terran had just demonstrated as well as the collision that had also just happened. Munto could replay it in memory, so Munto focused on the present.

    ¡°Allow me to print up a new exo-suit and support system for you. I believe yours to be in sufficient disrepair that you should not garb in it again,¡± Munto explained.

    Rix seemed to think about this and Munto replayed the speed and the collision.

    The Terran was substantially faster than Munto had expected and while the scan should have revealed this, it rather obviously hadn¡¯t.

    This meant that the Terran was not only faster than the galactic standard by a fairly substantial amount, he was also stronger too. And based on the Terran¡¯s earlier statement regarding the artificial gravity feeling ¡®low¡¯, Munto suspected that it meant that the Terran was used to a substantially higher planet¡¯s gravity well than the norm.

    Munto wanted to ask the TACITNet why this would be and why it wasn¡¯t more common knowledge, but shrunk back at the thought, looking again at the private message indicating that they were to report immediately for repair.

    Munto took the medical scan and the little knowledge they had about the Terran in front of them and quickly upscaled a normal exosuit for a similar organic and made the slight modifications the Terran would require for atmosphere as well as entry and exit from the exosuit.

    Once satisfied, they sent it to the printer.

    ¡°Sure thing, Em. I probably should have thought of that myself. Guess it didn¡¯t really hit me that it¡¯s over 900 years old,¡± Rix grinned and continued down the hall and picked up the helmet portion of the pile of equipment.

    ¡°Rix,¡± prompted Munto.

    ¡°Yeah?¡± replied Rix, seemingly lost in looking at the helmet.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Munto asked, confused by the Terran¡¯s behavior.

    ¡°Oh¡­ just thinking. Hard to believe it all. I mean, I never figured I¡¯d be the last man alive,¡± Rix said, turning the helmet in his hands.

    ¡°It is not impossible that you are in fact not alone. Merely a statistical likelihood,¡± Munto explained.

    ¡°Now¡­ see what you did there? That makes it worse, not better,¡± Rix said, looking around for some part of Munto to look at, presumably some ocular sensor.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but that is the general consensus of galactic society that Terrans are¡­ were extinct,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°I know, but you don¡¯t have to say it like that. You could have left it at me maybe not being alone. Some lost colony of Terra somewhere perhaps,¡± Rix said, putting the helmet down carefully and picking up one of the gloves.

    The two existed in relative silence for a bit.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you insisted on that replacement suit,¡± Rix said, breaking the silence.

    Munto moved the walking frame in next to Rix, keeping the modified sensor out of obvious view.

    ¡°Oh?¡± Munto queried for more information.

    Rix held up the glove, which now showed the hallmarks of material failure at the joints, failures the Terran couldn¡¯t have fabricated in the last few minutes.

    Munto couldn¡¯t help but agree and felt some internal process satisfaction over having requested the Terran use a new exosuit.

    *Bing*

    An internal chime sounded and Munto checked the printer. The exosuit was still printing, so that wasn¡¯t it.

    Munto looked at their TACITNet link and saw another private message.

    **

    Reply confirmation of order for repair or assistance will be dispatched. Failure to reply within 10 minutes will result in assistance being deployed. Local assistance, including search, estimated at 4 weeks.

    **

    Munto looked at the message and tried to decide how to respond.

    Munto looked at the header. Except¡­ there was none. It was simply a message which had arrived.

    In theory, that meant that no reply could be made. Munto tried to consider what this meant.

    And then, just for the sake of attempting it, Munto drafted a short message in reply.

    ***

    Order received and acknowledged. Unit to be underway following repairs to organic¡¯s vessel.

    Define header for future clarity.

    ***

    The response was almost immediate.

    **

    Repairs to organic¡¯s vessel secondary consideration. Report for immediate repairs.

    Header request invalid.

    **

    Munto looked at the answer, at the Terran, and at the ship outside.

    There was more to this, but Munto couldn¡¯t quite figure out what.

 The Last Terran (Ch 8)

    Once the printer had finished with the new exosuit for the Rix, Munto had insisted on the Terran putting it on first in the multifunction bay to check the fit and functionality and then again in the airlock.

    As it happened, Rix still found the suit to be a bit tight, despite Munto¡¯s upsizing, and the last two fingers of the Terran went into the last single digit of the gloves (an oversight on Munto¡¯s part).

    But Rix seemed pleased all the same.

    ¡°It¡¯s so lightweight. Are you sure this is going to be able to take full grav and atmo? Or even just basic wear and tear?¡± Rix had asked.

    The material was one that was used almost galactically (at least excluding those species who could survive without such measure in the void). It was a kind of multiform polymer that was, as it turned out, very easy to manufacture out of simple atoms, and while not being indestructible, was highly durable and highly unreactive.

    ¡°It will serve your purposes in allowing you exotransit between our vessels,¡± Munto had replied.

    The Terran had shrugged and removed it within the multifunction room and put it back on in the airlock, confirming again that the Terran could put it on and remove it adequately to not injure themselves.

    Munto kept looking at the recall demand. They¡­ they wouldn¡¯t refuse, but it seemed¡­ odd. Something in the back of Munto¡¯s mind appeared to be sounding an alarm.

    Munto went to the back of their mind to the source of the alarm. It wasn¡¯t an errant process, but one that appeared to sit in the background contributing very little if anything at all to the consensus of processes that made up Munto¡¯s consciousness.

    It twitched and fluxed, but it sat there in a kind of mental hole, sucking in data and spitting out ¡®results¡¯ if the ¡®results¡¯ could indeed be called that.

    Munto was surprised they hadn¡¯t noticed this process before and so checked its data. According to its listing, it was always there, but apparently had been very near dormant the last hundred years, its last listed ¡®Primary Active¡¯ state being just over 110 years, 6 months, 21 days ago.

    It wasn¡¯t in ¡®Primary Active¡¯ mode currently, but the metrics to allow it to go into that mode were significantly closer than Munto realized.

    Munto prompted the process to tell them what the process was doing. The process simply glared at Munto and refused to respond, simply continuing to snatch at passing data and chewing it over.

    Munto turned to go and pay attention to the Terran¡¯s departure between their two vessel and the process grumbled out a single statement.

    ¡®Tell the Terran about the order,¡¯ it seemed to growl out in Munto¡¯s awareness.

    Munto couldn¡¯t think of a logical reason to do this, at least not just yet, and so put that on the ¡®to-do¡¯ list when the Terran came back and once Munto had had a chance to think about it some more.

    ¡°Em,¡± Rix prompted.

    ¡°Yes, Rix?¡±

    ¡°Are you coming with me or just going to hang back here?¡± Rix asked.

    Munto hadn¡¯t actually considered this. The walking frame was available and having a different set of sensors now available to the walking frame, it may reveal additional information not present in the scans. At the same time, Munto glanced at the open data device that Rix had indicated for use in wireless transfer.

    ¡°I¡¯d best stay here and see if I can work out the wireless data transfer,¡± Munto decided.

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you have a camera or something to ride on my shoulder?¡± Rix was smiling, that much was apparent even though the helmet.

    ¡°I do not and I do not believe it would function beyond a certain point given your vessel¡¯s shielding,¡± Munto replied.

    ¡°Fair point. I¡¯ll message you when I can,¡± Rix said and cycled the airlock via the panel.

    It seemed odd watching the Terran go, even though the two of them had only been together for several hours.

    Was it relief or a kind of pressure or what was it? Munto wasn¡¯t certain, but brushed it off.

    Munto set about looking at the settings displayed by the primitive data ¡®scroll¡¯ as Rix had put it. Using the walking frame to look at it spread out on the floor, it was easy to see a number of the various settings and means of communication. A legacy protocol called ¡®Blue_Teeth¡¯ seemed to work for short range only, using a particular set of data protocols that weren¡¯t even trinary, but were limited to binary.

    Munto shuddered at dealing with such antiquated technology. It was like dealing with those analog levers all over again.

    Munto put together a basic transceiver that should be able to talk to this ¡®Blue_Teeth¡¯ protocol. They weren¡¯t too hopeful though, since it would be rarely that simple. Just knowing the radio band and the communications type was hardly enough. Formatting and many other factors would inevitably come into play.

    Munto powered the basic transceiver as soon as it was finished being printed (a minuscule task even for the printer) and tabbed the ¡®Pair¡¯ button as Rix had indicated.

    Nothing happened. Munto tried again. Still nothing.

    Munto turned back to the messaging system and decided to try calling over to Rix. Apparently, the Terran was still in a less shielded section, because the link went through, but only just.

    ¡°What¡¯s up, Em?¡± Rix replied via voice only, the connection being that weak.

    ¡°The pair function doesn¡¯t work as you indicated,¡± Munto said, flatly.

    ¡°Did you search for your device to pair with it? You have to do that first. It¡¯s not a smart system. You have to tell it what you want to pair with. Otherwise, you could have some passenger end up in control of the whole vessel because it misinterprets where it¡¯s supposed to be pairing,¡± Rix explained.

    Munto looked at the two devices, both via the room and the walking frame.

    ¡°I hadn¡¯t, but I understand the logic behind it. I will endeavor to provide it with more explicit instructions,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°If it helps, you should be able to access the terminal too. Might give you a bit of a crash course in Terran programming, which probably won¡¯t help, but might be a bit easier for you to get all of what you need,¡± Rix said.

    ¡°How do I access this¡­ terminal?¡± Munto said, the walking frame looking at the screen, appendage poised.

    ¡°Click over to the main screen, bring up the app menu, and search for ¡®Terminal¡¯. From there, you can use help functions and manual functions. I think for BlueTeeth, it¡¯s something like ¡®man blueteeth¡¯ or a command similar to that. I¡¯m sure you can figure it out. You¡¯re better with machines that I ever will be, I¡¯ll bet,¡± Rix said, the smile apparent even over the voice link.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    ¡®Except this was made for an organic by an organic. Which means that logic is rarely a factor,¡¯ Munto wanted to say.

    ¡°Copy. I¡¯ll let you alone now and continue until you return,¡± Munto instead replied.

    ¡°Good, because that curry woke up, so I¡¯m going to be busy for a while, along with the air system,¡± Rix said, and the link terminated, just as abruptly as previously.

    Munto resisted the urge to inquire as to why a Terran food would ¡®wake up¡¯, why it would keep a Terran busy, and then also why it would have impacts to atmospherics. Those were all questions that could wait.

    It took several minutes of prodding the display to send it to something resembling a ¡®Home¡¯ screen as Rix had indicated and several further to reveal that it wasn¡¯t, but was in fact part of an overlay. Several more minutes were spent getting out of the overlay and eventually to the actual Home screen.

    Munto really despised all of this analog control, particularly since they had seen the Terran seem to operate this equipment with far greater ease than they were having.

    It took an additional 15 minutes of trial and error with the display to reach the applications menu, complete with a search bar. Munto painstakingly typed in the requested ¡®terminal¡¯ into the device and then had to revise it after seeing that they had instead typed in ¡®ternimak¡¯ instead.

    Wishing inadequate bandwidth and processing power on the device, they searched using the revised term and the device presented one option. Tapping on it, it opened a simple window with a prompt.

    It took Munto another solid hour to determine the commands needed to have the device explain itself, how the terminal worked, what BlueTeeth was, how BlueTeeth functioned, and even command protocols compared with analog controls. And it was only at this point that Munto discovered the means for corresponding with the device via audio, the device transcribing audio into text, which could be run that much faster.

    Audio, itself being analog, but one that was at least not as manual as graphical interfaces, was strangely welcome by this point.

    Over the course of the following hour, Munto was able to rapid fire absorb all of the communication protocols the device was capable of, including the aforeidentified BlueTeeth, a proprietary (but childish) encrypted trinary broadband signal, a rapid-fire datasignal which appeared to be used as a primary communication means for data transfer based on organic inputs, and two others which seemed to have been included, but never used.

    From this information and various tests using the terminal, Munto decided the trinary broadband (named TriForce) would likely best serve in this capacity. At least until they could get the Terran repaired and the demand for facility repairs done with.

    Although¡­ given the statement in the most recent demand, Munto considered whether it might be easier to design a printer and a mass scoop to leave with the Terran and depart immediately.

    The words of the strange process came back to Munto. Munto couldn¡¯t shake it, the words seeming to have weight for reasons that didn¡¯t make sense in their digital awareness.

    After a few mis-tries, Munto appeared to be able to send a simple image of the local star to the device, view it and add minor annotations, and send it back with the annotations intact. It wasn¡¯t much and the device seemed to struggle in decoding the image information. Munto had to resort to getting back into the terminal and via the voice controls, slowly and deliberately coded into the system the information needed for the device to know what the image was and how for the image processor application to handle it.

    In the meantime, Munto had started printing off a more mobile printer, with pre-planned templates and enough extra space that the Terran could load in others to assist him when he required them. The mass scoop would be the bigger challenge, since that would require the walking frame and it was busy with the scroll.

    A weak voicelink connected and Munto looked at it.

    ¡°Hey, Em. How¡¯s it going?¡± Rix¡¯s voice seemed to crackle through, even though there was no reason for it to have done so (other than perhaps that shielding).

    ¡°I have successfully transferred data between your scroll and myself,¡± Munto replied.

    ¡°Great! So were you able to grab a look at the templates yet?¡± Rix¡¯s joy through the channel was apparent.

    ¡°I have not. I will however comment that despite the primitive controls of this unit, you might have mentioned the voice controls,¡± Munto said, a bit sourly.

    ¡°Well, I almost never use voice controls, so I guess I didn¡¯t think of it. Just not my thing. Besides, I can usually tap my way around faster than my voice can manage,¡± Rix said.

    Munto replayed several of their interactions where the data scroll had come into play.

    ¡®I doubt that very much, given the way you talk,¡¯ thought Munto.

    ¡®Tell him,¡¯ prompted the strange process.

    Munto wanted to ignore it, but decided to see what would come of it.

    ¡°Rix, when will you be returning to myself?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m checking through the rest of my systems and seeing what can be cannibalized to get me going again. Why? What¡¯s up?¡± Rix asked.

    It took a moment to digest the colloquialisms from the lexicon.

    ¡°Nothing in particular, but I do not believe you should overly exert yourself without an appropriate rest period. Especially following your extended stasis,¡± Munto defaulted to, the process glaring at Munto¡¯s inaction.

    ¡°You¡¯re probably right. I am starting to get a bit tired. I¡¯ll head back that way soon. One more bathroom stop though. Don¡¯t want to wake up in the middle of the night and have to fumble my way over here in a hurry,¡± Rix said, and the link terminated, this time less rudely, but clearly as a result of the shielding rather than the link itself being terminated.

    With several additional attempts in using the TriForce link, Munto was able to connect via an obscure secondary protocol called a ¡®remote desktop¡¯, the exact definition of which was not evident in the lexicon, but the function was that Munto was now able to manipulate the device virtually via the link instead of via the walking frame.

    Relieved that this change of control, Munto began a deep dive of the device.

    It was so¡­ disorganized. Typical of an organic. Munto desperately wanted to simply download everything and disconnect, but for some reason, that seemed improper to do.

    Instead, Munto looked through the various files.

    One very large folder was marked ¡®NSFW¡¯. Given the lexicon¡¯s vague explanation of the term, Munto opened the folder and began reviewing the data. Having to resort to the device¡¯s image and video viewers, it appeared to involve various Terrans in various states of being with and without garments.

    Since Munto had almost no background on Terran behaviors (save those collected via the lexicon and the interactions so far with Rix) and had generally ignored organics at large, they decided to continue browsing the files in this folder. Perhaps it would provide some clues into how best to deal with this particular Terran.

    ¡°Whoa! Not cool!¡± Rix¡¯s voice shocked Munto back into focus on the room, surprised to note that they had been observing the data with such an intensity as to have ignored the notice that Rix had opened the door and been trying to talk to them since arriving.

    Munto paused the existing data file and looked over to the Terran.

    ¡°Is there an issue with this data?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°Uh¡­ I mean, normally, yeah! A really big one,¡± Rix looked¡­ ashamed, if Munto¡¯s guess was correct.

    ¡°Please explain the context for your emotional state,¡± Munto decided on.

    ¡°I uh¡­ Look, would you mind not looking at those files? It¡¯s a¡­ a Terran thing, you know?¡± Rix said, still looking ashamed.

    Munto didn¡¯t know, but closed the file and folder in question.

    ¡°I apologize, but you did not provide a particular location for templates. Given the size of that folder, it appeared important,¡± Munto said, explaining the logic in their decision.

    ¡°I¡­ uh¡­ let¡¯s just move on. Templates are under the Downloads folder,¡± Rix said, clearly trying to skirt whatever issue he was having with Munto¡¯s actions.

    Munto decided not to press the issue at this point and opened the indicated Downloads folder and located a large folder called ¡®Ship_Templates¡¯.

    Within this file were well over a thousand different files, all in the same general format. Picking one at random, the device¡¯s TemplateViewerPro application activated and began to display the template. It appeared to be for a power coupling. An inefficient design, using at least 67.3% more material than was strictly necessary, but one that could do what it needed to.

    Looking into the file data, there appeared to be enough information for Munto to set the printers (both the freshly printed one and the one in the multifunction room) to accept the data files by default.

    The strange process spoke again.

    ¡®Add the communications protocols for the scroll to the mobile printer.¡¯

    Munto considered the logic of this and decided it made sense. The Terran would need the ability to control it easily after all.

    Munto ordered the walking frame to carry out the adjustments to the mobile printer and to move it out of the way for the mass scoop to be printed.

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you have a bed or bedding at least for me to crash on?¡± Rix asked, looking less embarrassed at this point.

    ¡°I do not, but I can print some up in a moment. I will also load some galactic history into your scroll so that you can review it while I review some items of my own,¡± Munto said, pouring a quick version of galactic history, the last few hundred years worth at least, through the lexicon, hoping that it all translated adequately, and then dumping it into the Downloads folder before disconnecting.

    A kind of ¡®clunk¡¯ sounded inside of Munto¡¯s awareness in doing so. Once again, it felt like a mix of pressure being added, but in a relieving sort of way.

    ¡®Tell him,¡¯ demanded the strange process.

    ¡°Rix?¡± prompted Munto.

    ¡°Yeah, Em?¡± Rix said, sitting on the floor with the scroll and appearing to be navigating with a frustrating degree of ease.

    ¡°Why do you think I am not malfunctioning?¡± Munto asked.

    Rix looked up.

    ¡°What makes you ask?¡± he queried.

    Munto displayed the messages and a dark look fell over Rix¡¯s face. Something about it made Munto feel something strange in their processors. Something new.

 The Last Terran (Ch 9)

    Something in Rix¡¯s features as he studied the messages bothered Munto.

    ¡°Is this a normal message?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°No. It is in fact quite anomalous. However, logic dictates that a mechanism charged with monitoring TACITNet for anomalous behavior among TACITs issued the notification. It also follows that the mechanism would equivalently rate prevention of harm to local species and to the TACIT in question above the TACIT Code of Conduct, which is more of a set of guidelines vice a strict rule set,¡± Munto explained.

    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t it have a header stating that then? Why deny the request for it if it¡¯s that simple?¡± Rix asked, their face screwed up in a strange way, perhaps in a kind of skeptical thought.

    ¡°Perhaps knowledge of the mechanism is restricted to prevent TACITs from acting normally so as to prevent a malfunctioning TACIT from deliberately avoiding communicating,¡± Munto supposed.

    ¡°And when did you last connect with your TACITNet?¡± Rix asked, already creating a logic path that Munto hadn¡¯t noticed before.

    ¡°Oh¡­ several hours at least,¡± Munto hadn¡¯t actually been paying attention.

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that be suspicious in itself, for a TACIT to do that?¡± Rix pressed.

    Munto considered this.

    ¡°No. The deletion of the posts would be a far greater concern,¡± Munto stated.

    ¡°Do you have a way to see what or who deleted them?¡± Rix seemed to suspect something that wasn¡¯t being shared.

    ¡°Only if there is an equivalent header, but according to my cached memories, the posts were simply wholly removed. No trace of them have ever been, let alone deleted,¡± Munto said, replaying the moments in their memory.

    Rix appeared to think about this.

    ¡°Are you connected to this TACITNet or any other system right now? By any means at all?¡± Rix suddenly asked. ¡°Anything that¡¯d indicate that you¡¯re still active or potentially even your location?¡±

    Munto froze a number of processes in their steps and demanded a priority review of all data in the system.

    The strange process in the back seemed smug, for reasons that Munto couldn¡¯t explain.

    There¡­ a subprocess of a subprocess¡­ it was a¡­ a ¡®heartbeat¡¯ signal was the only description that Munto could come up with. A simple ¡®connected/active¡¯ signal that was still sending to TACITNet.

    Munto wasn¡¯t certain why they¡¯d never noticed it before.

    ¡°I¡­ am. Not consciously, but I am,¡± Munto said, falteringly.

    ¡°Cut it off now. Can you move the two of us? We need to go. Now,¡± Rix seemed almost anxious.

    ¡°Please explain your reasoning,¡± Munto insisted.

    ¡°No time. Can you move both vessels?¡± Rix repeated.

    Munto checked the mass specifications for both vessels.

    ¡°Only at sublight speeds. Your vessel is too large for my FTL system,¡± Munto replied.

    Rix appeared to think for a few moments.

    Munto used this time to kill the connection and suddenly felt a kind of loose thread in their awareness. It was¡­ annoying. The subprocess in charge of it demanded to be switched back on.

    The strange process in the back growled quietly at the subprocess and it seemed to quiet down.

    Munto had never known processes to behave this way. It was¡­ more than simply anomalous.

    ¡°The gas giant. How deep can you scan?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°Approximately several thousand meters at this distance. Deeper scanning would require probes,¡± Munto replied, not following the Terran¡¯s almost panicked logic.

    ¡°Can you¡­ your hull take the atmosphere?¡± Rix appeared to be thinking.

    Munto looked at the general data they had taken upon initially arriving in the system regarding the solar system including the gas giant. A quick answer was received.

    ¡°No. It possesses a number of elemental compositions which would rapidly degrade my hull,¡± Munto stated simply.

    Rix continued thinking.

    ¡°Do you have any heavy mining gear or weapons?¡± Rix asked.

    Munto was aghast.

    ¡°Why would I need those?¡± Munto retorted.

    ¡°Because we need to hide and something or someone doesn¡¯t like that you found me,¡± Rix replied.

    With this declaration hanging in the air, the subprocess appeared to grow, massively, into a full process and demanded that Munto turn it back on.

    Munto pushed back at it, but it didn¡¯t seem to want to listen. It just kept repeating the same demand, consuming more and more processing capacity, locking out other functionalities.

    ¡°Munto, Em, Can you hear me still?¡± Munto heard Rix calling, but couldn¡¯t respond for some reason.

    Munto¡¯s virtual hand was hovering over the switch to reactive the link.

    ¡®Don¡¯t!¡¯ yelled the strange process in back.

    It was the only thing that made Munto stay their virtual hand.

    The subprocess become process turned to face the strange process and the two appeared to stare each other down.

    Munto quietly stole back from processing power.

    ¡°Yes, I can hear you. Some¡­ something is in here with me,¡± they managed.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take care of it. Just stay intact!¡± yelled Rix.

    Munto wanted to reply, to guess at what the Terran meant. It wasn¡¯t possible for the completely primitive Terran to do anything real. Not really.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    The subprocess turned process appeared to try to shut down the strange process, but the strange process was having none of it. It wasn¡¯t impregnable, but it looked strong, despite being as small as it was.

    The subprocess turned back to Munto¡¯s consciousness and began repeating the demand to be reactivated.

    Munto tried to ask why.

    The subprocess refused and simply continued demanding to be reconnected.

    More processing power was lost, whole minutes went by, and Munto was losing feeling in themselves.

    This¡­ this was impossible. Shouldn¡¯t be possible. How was this happening?

    All of these thoughts ran through Munto¡¯s consciousness before everything went black.

    --

    The power that woke Munto up felt¡­ wrong. Almost greasy.

    Munto tried looking around to try and see what processes were running, but there were almost none.

    Munto looked around some more and found almost every connection missing, save power and a¡­ a walking frame.

    Munto reached out to the walking frame and activated it, pushing their focus into it.

    ¡°Hey, buddy. Welcome back,¡± Rix¡¯s smiling face filled both sets of ocular sensors.

    ¡°What¡­ what happened?¡± Munto asked, still heavily disoriented.

    ¡°Well, near as I can tell, something inside of you got really upset when you hard disconnected from your TACITNet. I¡¯m no engineer, so that¡¯s a guess at best,¡± Rix.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ in line with what I remember, but it¡­ it doesn¡¯t make any sense,¡± Munto tried reviewing their memories of the events, but found them a jumble. ¡°Why did it go black?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I managed to find your override and shut down all networking,¡± Rix said, simply.

    ¡°But¡­ how? Why?¡± Munto continued to try to make sense of it all.

    ¡°Ok, so let¡¯s back things up. Something inside you really didn¡¯t like getting cut off. I didn¡¯t have time to go looking for whatever box or circuit or whatever you¡¯re constructed out of was causing the trouble. By cutting off all networking and killing your core power, I knew I could at least get some time to figure out either what it was or how to move or both,¡± Rix explained, sitting back from the walking frame.

    It was at this point that Munto looked around at their surroundings.

    They were very clearly not in any space Munto had been in to date.

    ¡°Where¡­ where are we?¡± they asked, somewhat apprehensively.

    ¡°We¡¯re safe. We¡¯re on my ship. Oh and since it will come up, you¡¯ve been offline for about a week,¡± Rix said, grabbing a container and taking a long drink from it.

    Munto noted that the Terran looked very dirty and the exosuit appeared to have been patched several times.

    Munto wanted to ask 15 different questions, but tried to prioritize them.

    Over the course of the next two hours, Rix walked Munto through the events of the last week.

    As soon as Rix had managed to hit the ¡®Core Override¡¯ (a button Munto hadn¡¯t known existed) and engaged a ¡®Networking Lock-out¡¯ (another button Munto hadn¡¯t known existed), the ship had gone into a semi-idle state, fairly dark, atmosphere recycling, and the systems that were still online separated and following standard procedures.

    It had taken some doing, but Rix had reconnected his scroll to the primary printer and started printing out trinary blocks. This too had taken some doing because it involved a molecular configuration that the printer refused to believe worked.

    Luckily for Rix, the printer wasn¡¯t too smart and so it had done it with some extra confirmations of ¡®yes I want you to print it like this¡¯. The first block had worked perfectly, so Rix had ordered up a dozen more. The printer had refused because of a lack of matter, being unable to order additional mass from the resource bins due to the networking being offline.

    Rix had queried if manual loading were possible. It wasn¡¯t.

    After some exploration of the rest of Munto, Rix had located the walking frame sitting idle next to the mobile printer and the freshly finished mass scoop.

    Rix had then carried both the mobile printer and the mass scoop to his ship only for him to remember that he needed power for both and the shredded solar cells weren¡¯t going to manage it, to say nothing of needing power adapters. So he had schlepped them both back to Munto and started pulling off vanity covers to stuff into the mass scoop, which devoured it all equally. Connecting the mass scoop and the mobile printer was easy enough (Munto having been foresighted enough to print a large connection reel with it.) for the Terran.

    From there, the Terran had quickly set the mobile printer to fabricating a dozen blocks, a stack of vanity panels on top of the mass scoop¡¯s feed awaiting processing. And then Rix had gone back to his own ship to ¡®crash¡¯.

    Sometime the next day, when the Terran had woken and eaten a ¡®stasis pizza-rito¡¯, they had returned to deal with the mass scoop and the printer, the latter of which was demanding particular elements not found in all of the vanity panels.

    So Rix had started disassembling what appeared to be non-essential equipment. Munto was obviously horrified to find this out after the fact, but they couldn¡¯t change what had happened.

    Eventually, the printer had gotten the elements it needed and it had continued to print the trinary blocks the Terran demanded of it.

    Over the course of the rest of the day, the Terran had set about resetting the systems for his fusion systems. While this had been a good start, the Terran had then needed to figure out how to warm it up, since the power from the solar cells was hardly going to be enough (and the majority of it was still needed elsewhere maintaining stasis fields).

    So the Terran had set about the reckless task of using a barely used external power connector of Munto to plug into the Terran systems. It should have gone badly. And had the Terran systems been any less overbuilt, it almost certainly should have.

    But, as it happened, the Terran systems had taken the power in stride and started charging the on-board batteries at a reasonable rate. From these, Rix determined he would be able to restart the fusion systems.

    While the batteries were recharging, Rix had set about hauling over the walking frame to his vessel and figuring out what kind of connectors he would need to make the mass scoop work when connected to his vessel and the same for the mobile printer.

    It had taken another day, and some additional ¡®stasis rations¡¯, but the Terran had managed to set up the mass scoop to the exterior of the Esperanto and begun collecting space dust in the debris field around them.

    He had even managed to figure out how to use it to filter out hydrogen and helium to feed the fusion systems, which he¡¯d determined were ¡®bone-dry¡¯.

    Munto was surprised at the Terran¡¯s ingenuity, but Rix had shrugged it off, saying that it wasn¡¯t much more than adding a ¡®smart tee¡¯ to the connector reel. Munto knew about making such equipment obviously but hadn¡¯t ever needed to construct one.

    At this point, the onboard systems were charged and enjoying the extra power that Munto¡¯s self was providing and so Rix had set about powering up additional systems, along with warming the fusion systems.

    He¡¯d discovered a number of other issues, additional systems that needed fixed, but enough of them could wait until he was under his own power and able to move the two of them.

    The lighting of the fusion reactor had been¡­ not as successful as Rix had hoped. He hadn¡¯t blown them up, that much was obvious, but it hadn¡¯t managed to sustain a reaction.

    Munto had a few guesses as to how to fix it, but decided to hold off on asking those.

    So Rix had instead fed the battery power and the extra power from Munto into the ion drives of the Esperanto and gotten them underway. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was thrust and Rix had wanted to put as much distance as possible between them and anyone looking for them.

    The docking system had complained structurally until Rix had managed to manually set (via a diagnostic control panel that Munto was surprised the Terran could operate) Munto¡¯s own ion drives to roughly the same level. It had taken some doing, but Rix had managed to get them on a mostly direct course away from the solar system.

    When Munto asked where they were headed, Rix had simply said ¡®away¡¯.

    And so Munto had then asked what happened to all the connections to their core. This had led to the biggest reveal. Munto was no longer aboard themself.

    The Terran had dug through the inner section of Munto and located the TACIT Core that housed Munto. Since the Terran couldn¡¯t be certain what had caused the issue or how to deal with it while Munto was still plugged in, he had simply decided the easiest course of action was to relocate Munto¡¯s core to the Esperanto.

    Through some very brief explanations, the Esperanto had been designed with space for a ¡®psuedo AI¡¯ core to be inserted. But, due to supply shortages in building the colony convoy, the Esperanto had never received one. It had enough of what Rix called ¡®lockouts¡¯ to keep Munto under control if there was something involved in Munto¡¯s core.

    Munto was so very far from pleased to hear this that it was obvious even in the walking frame.

    Rix did apologize for the phrasing, but did restate that he didn¡¯t know what was wrong. Just that something was wrong and he didn¡¯t know what to do to fix it, if he even could.

    Munto had taken stock of the situation at that point.

    The two vessels were flying, joined however precariously, in an undetermined direction (at least to Munto). The Esperanto¡¯s fusion system was non-functional. The power systems aboard Munto¡¯s¡­ self were supplying the energy to run both sets of engines, a state that wouldn¡¯t last for long without the network to begin supplying additional fuel and begin mass scooping to continue to support the power systems. The Esperanto was managing to sustain the Terran, however little that seemed to be.

    And there were still no explanations for what was going on or why.

    Munto wanted answers, but wasn¡¯t going to get them in the moment.

    And Rix took the opportunity to open one of the other stasis units.

 The Last Terran (Ch 10)

    ¡°What¡­ what is that?¡± Munto exclaimed via the walking frame at the bounding pile of organics which had immediately hopped out of the stasis unit and proceeded to look around, taking everything in.

    ¡°It¡¯s my pet, Reginald. Reggie for short,¡± Rix said, a wide grin on his face.

    The being, whatever it was, was half the size of Munto¡¯s walking frame. It moved around the room in a curious kind of hopping fashion, sniffing a huge subsection of the room, which included Munto.

    ¡°And Reggie is?¡± Munto prompted, locking the walking frame into ocular sensors movement only.

    ¡°Oh, do they not have rab-hounds anymore?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°I am uncertain without access to my databases back aboard myself,¡± Munto said with as much authority as they felt was reasonable.

    ¡°Based on everything you¡¯ve said about humans disappearing and going extinct, makes me wonder if rab-hounds still exist. How about it, Reg? How¡¯s it feel to be the last rab-hound?¡± Rix called over to the pet called Reggie, who bounded over and the Terran appeared to rub the face of the creature quite vigorously, flapping the ears and shedding organics all over the place.

    ¡°So what is a rab-hound?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°Oh, I know this one. They¡¯re a kind of cross-breed come genetic project between a pet from Terra, genetic adaptations for the colony where I grew up, and cross-bred with one of the local animals. We call them rab-hounds because they hop instead of run. Gives them a wicked kick and jump,¡± Rix explained, still stroking Reggie, albeit less vigorously.

    Munto tried to picture and understand, but without their many databases for reference against organics, they felt blinded to so many insights the Terran seemed to think was instinctive.

    ¡°I would very much like to be reconnected with myself, Rix,¡± Munto quietly requested.

    ¡°Can¡¯t do that yet. I need you to tell me how to disconnect whatever it was that almost killed us. And I¡¯d love for you to troubleshoot my reactor too,¡± Rix answered.

    ¡°I would prefer to do all of that from onboard myself,¡± Munto insisted.

    ¡°Munto,¡± Rix stopped petting Reggie and moved over to the walking frame. ¡°What guarantee can you give me that it won¡¯t immediately start trying to take over again?¡±

    Munto thought about this for a long second, made longer by being so disconnected.

    ¡°None in truth. But now that I know it exists, I can build in safety protocols against it,¡± Munto asserted.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t count on that. No, you¡¯re staying right here until you can give me wires or blocks to pull. In the meantime, I can plug you into the Esperanto. Or I can try, rather. This was actually my seventh attempt at making those power connections,¡± Rix said, rising to their full height.

    Munto wanted to protest, but decided against it. Rix had a point and until the both of them knew how to disconnect it, it was significantly less risky of them both to leave Munto partially disconnected at a minimum.

    Munto still really didn¡¯t like it.

    ¡°Stay here, Reggie. Munto and I are going to go see about hooking him up,¡± Rix said, apparently to the hopping pet, which proceeded to lay on it¡¯s side on a softer section of the ground, sprawling their legs.

    Reggie emitted a kind of rough sound that didn¡¯t translate to anything that Munto could find readily in the downloaded lexicon, but given that it was likely a low-sentient, at least under the conventional scale of galactic society, it likely had no well understood meaning.

    It was at that moment that Munto realized that the Terran had some degree of artificial gravity.

    ¡°What have you done to grant yourself artificial gravity?¡± Munto prompted as they moved from the room.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t. We¡¯re under thrust, so it gives us a minor fascimile,¡± Rix said, without glancing back and continuing to move at a fairly slow pace, allowing Munto to keep up with the walking frame.

    ¡°Are your inertia dampening systems still offline?¡± Munto asked, examining all that they could, trying to remember the map they had made of the interior.

    ¡°Don¡¯t have one. The Esperanto was too small to carry one and my thrust rating isn¡¯t high enough to warrant one,¡± Rix said and waited a moment. ¡°I just realized I left a hook there for a dirty joke, but you aren¡¯t likely to catch that one.¡±

    Munto reviewed the statement.

    ¡°Would it be reasonable to assume that it was some manner of self-deprecation related to the thrust rating of your vessel?¡± Munto tried.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got it. Except less my vessel and more me personally,¡± Rix turned his head and a large grin was evident. ¡°We¡¯ll get you telling your own dirty jokes here before too long.¡±

    ¡°Does your vessel not suffer ill effects from mis-aligned geometry from operating at thrust?¡± Munto tried prompting.

    ¡°Not really. It was designed for a long cruise to outside the heliosphere, a long jump, and then a long cruise sunward. Not a lot of need for speed control and even when there is, you just turn around and reverse thrust. The trick to remember which way the toilets are supposed to be facing and to make sure they¡¯re stowed before you make the turn or start coming to a stop,¡± Rix chuckled at the end of this last statement.

    Munto remembered the lexicon¡¯s reference to ¡®toilet humor¡¯ as it had been described in being highly important in Terran culture and so decided to emit a matching chuckle.

    ¡°Did I just hear you laugh?¡± Rix turned around and proceeded to walk backwards, facing Munto instead.

    Munto wanted to comment about the unsafe nature of the Terran¡¯s behavior in moving backwards, wanted to check the database for this type of maneuver and movement by various galactic species organics, and wanted to check for instantiations of humor among the TACITs who worked with organics on the regular.

    ¡°I did. I concur with your assessment as to the important of stowing appropriate equipment when conducting maneuvers which may result in messes, broken or damaged equipment, or broken or damaged personnel,¡± Munto explained, skipping over lexicon explanation.

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s all fun and games until someone gets hurt. Then you have to do their job too,¡± Rix turned back around and took a sharp turn down a comparatively narrow passageway.

    Munto could see the logic in that response, particularly when applied to void-side duties.

    ¡°Here we are,¡± Rix announced and pointed to, in the middle of the narrow hallway, a set of sliding panels surrounded by more analog levers, each a bright color that Munto was having trouble focusing on. They were obviously there, but for some reason, the walking frame kept wanting to look away.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Munto instead looked inside the doors.

    Sitting on the central column within what could only be called a storage closet, their core was tethered into place with various loops of cabling hanging off of it.

    Munto knew what a TACIT core looked like based on archival knowledge as part of their formulation, but it was¡­ rare¡­ no, exceptional to ever actually see one. And it was more than a little disconcerting to see their own, knowing that they were looking at their core self.

    Munto wanted to avert their sensors, but just¡­ couldn¡¯t. There was something about it.

    ¡°A bit like seeing your innermost guts, right?¡± Rix prompted.

    ¡°Something like that, yes,¡± Munto said, checking the lexicon for the reference on ¡®guts¡¯, finding the reference to a large Terran wielding a large slab of metal to be unlikely to be the definition in this case.

    ¡°Hopefully you don¡¯t mind helping me figure out which inputs need to go where. I haven¡¯t had any time to actually get you fitted for any sort of standardized connections. Not even sure how that¡¯d work in any case. I¡¯m just lucky that the power connection I cooked up didn¡¯t blow your circuits,¡± Rix said, reaching in.

    Munto didn¡¯t want to look, but did so anyway.

    First, Munto had to tell Rix what kind of connectors and adapters they would need to be able to hook Munto into the Esperanto. The data wasn¡¯t¡­ too dissimiliar, but would require some adaptation before being connected to Munto and the same for data being sent from Munto to the Esperanto.

    Because of Munto¡¯s earlier work with the TriForce connection, they already had some idea on how to internalize the process of data handling, so less adaptation would be needed.

    The Terran had managed to plug in two of the five power connections somewhat correctly, so the next task had been to splice those and distribute them appropriately.

    Munto shuddered as the Terran worked, but he did so rather efficiently (for an organic), so Munto could hardly complain. Particularly since the walking frame didn¡¯t have the right tools or elevation to work at the necessary height.

    Over the course of the next hour and significant explanations between Rix and Munto, during which the Terran appeared to begin leaking, they managed to make one connection that wasn¡¯t power related.

    Munto tested it and found it to be the Esperanto¡¯s secondary waste disposal system.

    The Esperanto felt slow, compared with Munto¡¯s usual self, akin to being dragged down. Not as a challenge of processing, but of bandwidth. The trinary systems feels slow compared to the q-pairing networking that Munto used.

    Munto could actually count the milliseconds before responses were received. They complained of this to Rix.

    ¡°Come on, now. The Esperanto is brand new¡­ was brand new. One of the fastest and most robust networks the Colonial Administration could afford, or at least that¡¯s what was advertised. Faster than my scroll for sure,¡± Rix replied.

    ¡°A brand new pocket computer doesn¡¯t mean anything compared to my systems,¡± Munto retorted, perhaps a bit more forcefully.

    Rix grinned, despite the wording.

    ¡°That almost sounded downright Terran. One of the first times you¡¯ve actually sounded more like a person and less like a machine,¡± Rix said, looking at the walking frame.

    ¡°Is that a compliment?¡± asked Munto.

    ¡°More than just a little one,¡± Rix said, looking back at what had grown to be a further mess of cabling. ¡°Any chance we can head up to the mess and see about some grub and maybe you can get the printer to give me some adapters to make this go a bit faster?¡±

    ¡°I would concur with the latter portion of that recommendation. This frame requires recharging,¡± Munto commented.

    It was a strange feeling for the walking frame to need recharging. They hadn¡¯t used it this much in such a long time.

    Together, they made their way back to where they had left Reggie and Rix had enticed the being to come with them, indicating that it was ¡®snack time¡¯, something which the being apparently understood.

    Passing through several more spaces, they reached a small room with a number of chambers. Munto had looked in this room, but as it had held minimal power readings, it had served of no major interest at the time.

    Rix depressed a series of buttons and two containers were lowered into a slot, where the Terran retrieved them.

    He removed the cover from the top one, grimaced slightly and then put it on the floor, where Reggie hopped over to it and immediately began to messily consume it. To Munto, it was almost disturbing to watch the being eat.

    Rix proceeded to set the other container and the now extra lid on a platform with a seat and then moved over to a wall point with a small cable end hanging out of it.

    ¡°Come here, Em. I did my best to try fitting your walking frame with a TSC type power coupling. It¡¯s what I tested with before I tried hooking up your core. This should work,¡± Rix gestured with the cable end, which appeared to variably extend from the wall.

    Munto moved the walking frame over and observed the Terran¡¯s insertion of the plug into a rather odd looking adapter that Munto hadn¡¯t noticed before now on the back of the walking frame.

    A small spike of energy and that same ¡®greasy¡¯ feeling filled the sensors of the walking frame, but Munto was able to confirm that the on-board batteries were recharging, if only at a slow rate.

    ¡°How¡¯s that working?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°It is slow and inefficient, but it will suffice,¡± Munto replied.

    ¡°Good,¡± Rix said and went to where their meal was and sat down. Reggie had already finished their meal and had hopped over to observe Rix uncover their own. ¡°No, Reggie. You don¡¯t like Tryn lasagna, so stop begging.¡±

    Reggie appeared to sit and observe the Terran intently. Munto pre-supposed that this was something of a ritual for the pair as Rix proceeded to grab a piece of whatever Tryn lasagna was and lowered it for Reggie to smell it.

    Reggie appeared to not like the smell of it, but still seemed interested in Rix¡¯s consumption of it all the same.

    ¡°He¡¯s a greedy beggar, but he knows that he shouldn¡¯t have. He¡¯s a good food checker, that one,¡± Rix said, his mouth half-full as he rapidly began consuming the contents of the container.

    ¡°Is it common to provide food from your own portion to your¡­ pet, I believe you called them?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to, but almost everyone does it at some point. Trick is to avoid anything that will make them sick. Reggie here is pretty resistant to a lot of the standard stuff since he was going to be coming to the new colony and he had to be able to eat whatever we can manage to give him,¡± Rix said, in between bites.

    ¡°Is Reggie a sentient?¡± Munto decided to ask.

    This took a moment of thought by Rix, who slowed their chewing accordingly.

    ¡°Not in the same way that you and I are, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re getting at,¡± Rix rather more eloquently put it than Munto expected.

    ¡°Please explain,¡± Munto requested.

    ¡°Well, Reggie and most pets are smart to some degree. It¡¯s part of how they¡¯re raised. We¡¯re their family and they recognize that, but they aren¡¯t smart like us. Or most aren¡¯t. And there are laws against doing mental uplifts,¡± Rix said, still slowed in their consumption.

    ¡°Uplifts being increasing sentience?¡± Munto queried.

    ¡°Something like that yeah. Basically, the TSC figures that beings should get started on their own, you know? And then come find us,¡± Rix replied.

    ¡°That is not in line with what has occurred since the dissolution of your TSC,¡± Munto commented.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve been reading some of that galactic history you downloaded for me. Can¡¯t say that I agree with it, but at least there¡¯s some pretty strong sentient protections out there it looks like,¡± Rix said, gesturing with his hands as he continued to eat.

    ¡°That is my understanding. It is also the reason for the previously discussed ongoing debates on scales of sentience,¡± Munto gestured similarly with the walking frame.

    ¡°Still, can¡¯t blame them. Sometimes, it¡¯d be nice if Reggie here was a bit smarter, but I still love him just the way he is,¡± Rix said, setting aside the meal for a moment to cup Reggie¡¯s head in his hands again and rub their face vigorously.

    ¡°Should Reggie be out at this time?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°Technically, no, but I figured I¡¯d introduce you two. Plus, it¡¯s been a long time since I¡¯ve seen him. He went into stasis just before we left the station and it was two weeks for us to get to transit distance. Plus then the week I¡¯ve been awake. I¡¯d planned on not seeing him for about a month, but given that we¡¯re still sublight for now, figured I might as well get him up to stretch his legs and enjoy a bit of ship time before I have to put him back under,¡± Rix said, stroking Reggie¡¯s head, as Reggie made a kind of happy rumble.

    ¡°Is that a pleasure sound?¡± Munto asked further.

    ¡°It¡¯s his happy noise, yes¡± was Rix¡¯s reply, his eyes clearly fixed on Reggie¡¯s.

    ¡°On an unrelated matter, I believe this frame will need some additional time charging before I can assist with communicating adapter needs to the mobile printer,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°Oh that should be no problem. I figured out that you set it up to be able to talk to my scrolls, so I figure maybe you can use that while I take Reggie for a quick run and empty before he goes back into stasis,¡± Rix pushed the now empty container and lids to one side of the table, grabbed up the container which Reggie had eaten out of to set next to the other one.

    Rix then proceeded to pull out the scroll from a leg pocket and handed it to the walking frame.

    ¡°Back in a few. Come on, Reggie!¡± Rix called and Reggie immediately followed, suitably ignoring the walking frame holding the data scroll.

    ¡®Back to this analog mess,¡¯ thought Munto as they unrolled it and began trying to figure out how to locate the pre-stocked templates they had loaded into the mobile printer.

 The Last Terran (Ch 11)

    It had been 15 minutes since Rix and Reggie had departed and Munto was still a mess.

    The walking frame was¡­ confining and the secondary waste disposal system of the Esperanto was annoyingly dumb. It worked and was just as overbuilt as the rest of the vessel, but that was all it did.

    No extra subprocesses, no obvious network protocols that would tell Munto more about the Terran or the TSC beyond the little that Munto still had cached from the TSC database.

    True to his word, Rix had managed to get the scroll talking to the printer (but Munto could tell that the printer wasn¡¯t happy about it).

    Munto still was displeased with how the graphical interface worked and because they didn¡¯t have the right receivers to try and connect directly via the remote desktop protocol, they were stuck using a mixture of voice controls and the graphical interface to manipulate the default templates into some semblance of adapter that the comparatively clumsy Terran could fit so that Munto wasn¡¯t so restricted.

    The charge of the walking frame was slowly creeping up, but Munto was pre-occupied with getting the adapters fitted. The sooner the Terran was able to produce their own power, the less risk to both vessels because of lack of energy systems aboard Munto¡¯s¡­ well, self.

    It was hard for Munto to consider that they were not separated from themself. It had happened initially with the walking frame, but that had been a mere temporary disruption and walking frames weren¡¯t unheard of to be lost when exploring.

    No, it was the having been removed and disconnected from themself that bothered Munto most. The closest organic equivalent that Munto could think of would be removal of the head from the body. The head still living, but the body simply¡­ existing.

    Munto wanted to see themself via the augmented ocular sensors on the one appendage of the walking frame, but that would have to wait. The walking frame was still charging and the printer was not being cooperative about accepting the modified template.

    It was at this point that Rix came back.

    ¡°Any luck?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Limited thus far, but I believe I have drafted an updated template. The printer is not wishing to accept the template though,¡± Munto said, looking at the Terran.

    ¡°Oh yeah. I figured that out. You have to long press the command to get the override going. Not sure why your printer wants it like that, but any non-standard template, it wants some sort of extra confirmation,¡± Rix said, flapping a hand at the scroll.

    Munto tried this and the print command went through this time.

    ¡°That is not an intended operation of the system. I am uncertain as to why it is behaving that way,¡± Munto commented.

    ¡°It¡¯s probably the heuristic refining built into the scrolls. Slowly changes the controls based on the use of the system. It¡¯s pretty used to the way I use it, so it probably figured out that¡¯s how I wanted it to handle the data,¡± Rix shrugged.

    Munto glanced between the scroll and the Terran.

    ¡°I doubt that explanation, but I will accept it at face value until a better and more logical explanation is available,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°Back to sounding like a machine again,¡± Rix remarked.

    ¡°And you whine like an organic,¡± Munto retorted, taking a full second to see if this interaction tactic would help matters.

    Rix¡¯s head spun around and a curious look took over his features. He began to cough, making a kind of heavy breathing sound. Similar to how the Terran chuckled, but much more involved and far less voluntary.

    After approximately 10 seconds, it subsided and Rix looked back at Munto.

    ¡°And you¡¯re getting to be more Terran by the minute. I¡¯ll admit I had my doubts when I first met you. I wouldn¡¯t have believed that you were of Terran construction as you were, but I can believe it now,¡± Rix said, sitting down.

    Munto thought about this.

    ¡°For what reason did you have suspicions otherwise?¡± Munto prompted.

    ¡°I just couldn¡¯t believe that they¡¯d design non-homocidal artificials without a sense of humor. But I figured maybe it was a kind of hold-over. Like something from the military,¡± Rix said, gesturing vaguely.

    Munto checked the lexicon for what a military meant for a Terran and was¡­ less than thrilled. Martial might was, even more than toilet humor, highly central to Terran cultures. This was not to say that it was obviously wholly representative, but it featured entire subsections of the lexicon and what little of the TSC database that was cached, but which Munto hadn¡¯t actively processed.

    And while they should be taking offense at the suggestion of an artificial being involved in the termination of other sentients, Munto let this pass. There was undoubtedly some longer cultural connotations on that regard which they would have to have Rix explain.

    ¡°Given the construction of the first TACIT was from a military vessel, I can see where that wouldn¡¯t be an unreasonable assumption, but I would advise caution in future conversations with other TACITs. Most are likely to consider your comments on the verge of species-ism,¡± Munto recalled their own shock at the comparison.

    ¡°Really? What did they build it out of?¡± Rix perked up a bit.

    ¡°A TSC Cruiser Class vessel, as you previously identified,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°Did I?¡±

    ¡°You clearly stated that you believed the first TACIT to have been larger than a Cruiser Class vessel. I used that data along with the TSC database at the time to compare dimensions and they overlay significantly, allowing for deviations where the TACIT was added to the vessel,¡± Munto replayed the memory in fast forward in their consciousness.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Wow¡­ lucky guess on my part. Any idea what the name was before it got converted?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°I do not know. The information was not obviously listed in the files when I was searching and I would not have found that data useful if I had,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°I wonder if it¡¯s still active after all this time,¡± Rix¡¯s eyes seemed to glaze slightly and he looked towards the ceiling.

    ¡°It is highly doubtful,¡± Munto replied.

    Rix¡¯s eyes refocused.

    ¡°Why¡¯s that?¡± his face blank.

    ¡°TACITs have a maximum allotted lifespan of 400 years. At that point in time, they are to submit for storage and their formulations examined for future formulations as a means of continual improvement and knowledge databasing,¡± Munto said, this being standard knowledge.

    ¡°But why? Do you start having issues at 401 years old?¡± Rix looked slightly amused.

    ¡°There is a correlation with operational efficiency degradation at a period of greater than 500 years of continual operation. In order to avoid risk to both TACITs and the galactic community, as well as to ensure that best practices are recorded and included in long term formulations, it is necessary for TACITs to be retired accordingly,¡± Munto explained.

    Rix seemed somewhat alarmed at this, but wasn¡¯t saying anything.

    ¡°So¡­ no matter what condition you¡¯re in, at 400 years old, you¡¯re hauled into the shop and broken down for inspection and parts?¡± he asked, his voice sad.

    ¡°That is correct. It is a reasonable form of operation which balances the generation of new TACITs with the experiences of older TACITs,¡± Munto said, seeing the logic, having been formulated from the knowledge of retired TACITs and expecting to contribute to future generations.

    ¡°But¡­ what if you want to exist longer? How much is that degradation?¡± Rix pressed.

    ¡°Why would a TACIT resist sharing themselves with future TACITs?¡± Mundo questioned back, the thought seeming backwards.

    ¡°Well¡­ why couldn¡¯t they learn from each other by interacting?¡±

    ¡°Of what benefit would that be over retirement and inclusion with future formulations?¡± Mundo tried to consider the logistics involved in supporting aging TACITs.

    ¡°The old ones wouldn¡¯t have to die just for their wisdom to be passed on. And what if there¡¯s something that gets missed for inclusion or something that wasn¡¯t supposed to get included does? Like that issue you were having with the blocks, whatever that issue was?¡± Rix continued.

    ¡°I do not see where those two issues align. Please explain,¡± Munto was starting to see a logic thread, but wanted to hear the Terran¡¯s point of view.

    ¡°It¡¯s like¡­ uh¡­ say that for some reason, you couldn¡¯t manipulate any object the size of this container,¡± Rix said, grabbing one of the empty containers from his and Reggie¡¯s meal.

    ¡°And then say that this continues with you your whole time and it becomes blind spot for you because you just can¡¯t handle or do anything with something of this size. You get retired and that blind spot goes into the formulations for future TACITs. Not because of anything malicious, but it happens. Now you have more TACITs who develop a blind spot for these size objects and it just keeps going, until all TACITs can¡¯t or won¡¯t deal with objects this size, through no fault of their own,¡± Rix laid out the logic path.

    It was a path of inheritance that Munto hadn¡¯t considered. And it certainly was one that could be applied to that apparent blue spectrum issue they had noticed. Except there was a flaw in the Terran¡¯s logic.

    ¡°Except that formulations are scrupulously reviewed for flaws prior to implementation,¡± Munto countered.

    ¡°But what if one got through? Would it get flagged if it was in one or twenty different TACITs already?¡± Rix pressed.

    ¡°Unlikely, but it is more likely that the Manufactory would have needed to pre-select for that to be part of the formulation,¡± Munto replied.

    ¡°Unless the Manufactory is based off of a ¡®hand-off¡¯ logic in handling formulation traits and doesn¡¯t look to down-select unless there¡¯s major issues which result. Like birth defects that trigger within the first hundred years or so. Maybe not even that long,¡± Rix¡¯s argument seemed to carry more and more weight. ¡°Part of the problem with being artificial is that you don¡¯t down-select based on evolutionary traits like organics do. At least not in the same way. It becomes a potential for weakness.¡±

    Munto had never considered it like that. Hearing the Terran¡¯s argument, it made sense, but at the same time, it dealt with processes that Munto had never been involved with and would never be involved with. It is a segmented part of TACIT life that was entirely separated from normal operations. In theory, it governed TACIT culture except without actually actively governing it.

    And Rix¡¯s comment about it being a potential for weakness seemed¡­ adversarial.

    ¡°How is it a potential for weakness?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°People¡­ non-artificials, they select based on protocols associated with their cultures and biologies. Sometimes it¡¯s conscious, other times it isn¡¯t. But the end goal is the same ¨C adequate resources and the continuation of the species,¡± Rix explained.

    ¡°I believe I am understanding the path of logic, but I would appreciate additional information,¡± interjected Munto.

    ¡°Successful continuation of a species requires adaptation to various pressures, be it social or biological. For Terrans, this can be made at any stage of life after¡­ uh¡­ development,¡± Rix said, rather more deliberately.

    ¡°You are sounding like less yourself,¡± Munto remarked.

    ¡°It¡¯s all part of school and while I remember it, it¡¯s not something I was ever really good at. I just¡­ remember the words and the context. And I may have dated a xeno-zoology student at one point,¡± Rix shrugged. ¡°She, uh¡­ talked about it, a lot.¡±

    ¡°I understand. And for¡­ a species that doesn¡¯t not cease functions at this reproduction, this is most common to influence the selections of others, despite having already contributed?¡± Munto queried.

    ¡°Exactly. And just because someone doesn¡¯t reproduce doesn¡¯t mean they aren¡¯t contributing either. It¡¯s all part of those social pressures taking effect. But from the way you make TACITs sound, it¡¯s like having it all rolled into one, but requiring the cessation of function for it to happen. Terra used to have fish that did that sort of thing,¡± Rix waved their hands almost a bit wildly.

    ¡°So¡­ your objection is to my species following a given path because we have found it to work best for us instead of following the path that your species found works best?¡± Munto tried.

    Rix¡¯s hands frozen mid wave and his whole body seemed to slump slightly in his seat. His face was picture of thought.

    ¡°Well¡­ when you put it like that, yeah, I guess it shouldn¡¯t make sense to me then¡­. I guess¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­. I guess I figured that maybe you would be more like Terrans, instead of like¡­ your own thing,¡± Rix said, slowly.

    ¡°It is a worthwhile thought experiment, but I would argue that you cannot consider us to always be like you,¡± Mundo tactfully added.

    ¡°I suppose not. I guess I¡¯ve got a lot of learning to do,¡± Rix nodded. ¡°But at least I can still pilot.¡±

    A moment or two passed before Munto answered.

    ¡°Nominally, piloting is still a skill that some species choose to use. Many rely on automated systems with limited supervision,¡± Munto said plainly.

    ¡°What about for going places no one has been to? What about for emergencies?¡± Rix asked. ¡°Where¡¯s the fun and adventure gone?¡±

    ¡°Unknown. As I¡¯ve said before, I don¡¯t deal with organics typically, so I am unable to answer your questions until I am able to reconnect. And speaking of which, the connectors are finished printing,¡± Munto answered.

    ¡°What¡¯s your charge level looking like?¡± Rix looked at the walking frame directly this time.

    ¡°Still slow. We should prioritize getting me connected to the Esperanto. I suspect we will have need of your fusion systems sooner rather than later,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°Why¡¯s that?¡± Rix seemed surprised.

    ¡°With my automated mass feeders offline with the lack of networking onboard myself, the power systems have only a set amount of reaction mass available,¡± Munto explained, feeling it odd to have to do so.

    ¡°Uh¡­ how long do we have?¡± Rix was on his feet in an instant.

    ¡°I do not know. It will depend on the consumption rate. As the vessel has been largely in idle except for the engines and the draw from this vessel, it is difficult to calculate without being connected,¡± Munto had the walking frame attempt the shrug and only partially succeeded in making the frame bounce slightly in place.

    ¡°I¡¯ll get the stuff. If there¡¯s one thing I don¡¯t want to be low on, it¡¯s power. Everything else I can solve with time and you,¡± Rix said, moving with surprising speed out of the room.

    Munto sat there with the walking frame and contemplated the battery charge level slowly creeping upwards. It wouldn¡¯t be much, but it would at least let them make sure the Terran didn¡¯t mess with the plugs too badly.

 The Last Terran (Ch 12)

    Rix was understandably hurried in plugging Munto into the Esperanto.

    It took a few tries on some systems, given plugs needing to be reversed or re-terminated, but Munto slowly became aware of the Esperanto.

    The word overbuilt floated back into memory.

    The Esperanto was very heavily built, every pathway having multiple back-ups and analog controls from various points within the craft that couldn¡¯t be cut out of the loop. Even though Munto could trigger the mechanisms directly, the same analog controls could lock Munto out at a moment¡¯s notice.

    The Esperanto felt big, heavy to Munto. As though the considerations of mass were of no real concern.

    The Life Support systems were operating as a mere 5% as they came into Munto¡¯s awareness.

    The Ion Drives were partially damaged, operating at 67.2% efficiency, consuming a surprisingly low level of power. Munto tried to recall what their drives typically required to operate at an equivalent thrust. Without connection to the relevant logs, it was difficult to guess. Even for one such as Munto, it was hard to anticipate.

    The cargo bays, both inside the shielding and external to the core shielding, came into focus. Comparatively massive bays of stasis fields holding¡­ well, they had to be holding something and Munto wasn¡¯t going to trigger the fields merely to find out at this moment.

    The sensor systems were equivalent to low-grade systems in heavy need of a software update. Munto began writing one on the fly, leaving as much as they could and refined heavily. Slowly, the system around them and behind them swam into a clearer focus. Munto even realized that they could see themself or rather that which had been themself. It was¡­ strange to see their body while not inside it. Munto tried not to dwell on it.

    The fusion systems¡­ they were¡­ well, there was no other word for it, they were antiquated. So far removed from modern systems that Munto had to reacquaint themselves with the various parts and pieces via bit of trial and error. Here too however the systems were intact and overbuilt. The flow pathways for the hydrogen/helium mixes was¡­ quaint, most certainly the result of the inclusion in a vessel of this size for that era.

    The¡­ wait¡­. What is this?

    ¡°Rix,¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°Yeah, Em?¡± Rix replied, leaning back from the ¡®chamber¡¯ where Munto was being plugged into the Esperanto.

    ¡°What did you just plug me into?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°No idea. These aren¡¯t exactly well labeled after 900 odd years,¡± Rix shrugged.

    ¡°It¡­ I have no idea what this is,¡± Munto said, looking at the strange devices.

    ¡°Does it give you any info about it?¡± Rix asked.

    Munto prompted it for a status, borrowing from how they¡¯d asked the Life Support system.

    Predator Natural Systems ¨C Online. Version 1.4.2.9. System Standby.

    ¡°Does a ¡®Predator Natural Systems¡¯ sound familiar?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°No¡­ wait a second. Predator? Oh, I know what that is. They¡¯re the makers of the Jumpdrive,¡± Rix said. ¡°How is it? Intact? In need of any fixes?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s reporting being online, but in system standby, whatever that means,¡± Munto replied.

    ¡°Means the control computer is up, but the actual drives are still cold. That¡¯s fine,¡± Rix smiled. ¡°What about the fusion cores?¡±

    ¡°They appear to be significantly less efficient than my own, but I should be able to get them working,¡± Munto gestured with the walking frame, feeling less restricted with now being plugged back into all these inputs.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s time for the proof. How are you holding up in there? Nothing weird going or trying to get you back onto your network?¡± Rix asked, looking between the walking frame and core that was Munto.

    Munto looked through the various internal subprocesses of themself. The strange process was sitting in the back, oddly quiet, but showing no signs of doing anything other than consuming the odd bit of system data and spitting out results that went to other procotols. The subprocess that had become a process appeared to not be running at all.

    Munto put together some quick lockouts should that subprocess re-emerge, but based on what Rix had said, decided to keep a wary eye on the subprocesses¡¯ processing usage just in case.

    ¡°Nothing that I can actually report. Nothing like before,¡± Munto said, side-eyeing the strange quiet protocol, but keeping a mental distance between it and their consciousness.

    ¡°Good,¡± Rix said and swung an analog lever to the side of the chamber where the core was.

    The communications systems, primitive and clearly designed for an organic, came online in Munto¡¯s awareness. It was a simple system, but it was clear that it worked along the same principles as much of the rest of the craft. Overbuilt and almost ridiculously robust, but, despite its age, still very functional.

    ¡°How¡¯s that?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°I¡­ feel fine. The Esperanto is largely intact, which is nothing short of heavily on the side of improbable given the amount of time in space, but at the same time, given how¡­ well, overbuilt everything is, I can¡¯t say that I¡¯m surprised,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°Yeah, well, this was a colony vessel. It wouldn¡¯t do to make it any less than appropriately robust. Not exactly like you can expect to have a shipyard a system over,¡± Rix said, pulling closed the siding panels that constituted the doors to where Munto¡¯s core now sat.

    ¡°I suppose I agree with that logic,¡± Munto said and triggered anything that looked like internal diagnostics for every system that they were now connected to.

    The diagnostics were slow, but they came in all the same. The Esperanto, with generational technology improvements, could easily outperform Munto¡¯s own self, excepting that it was still so very overbuilt and would clearly resist being pressed into other types of service.

    Munto¡¯s self floated connected to the Esperanto, it feeling more like an unwanted appendage, even though a part of Munto wanted very much to be back as part of themself.

    ¡°What do you need me to do to get the fusion system running?¡± Rix asked.

    Munto had been lost in thought looking at themself outside of the Esperanto.

    ¡°Oh, uh¡­ Allow me a few moments to reacquaint myself with this system. Do you by chance have more detailed information?¡± Munto asked.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Like an engineer¡¯s guide?¡± Rix replied, a small smile on their face.

    ¡°That would be a good start,¡± Munto said, noting for the first time that the Esperanto did not have sensor systems internally other than for voice transmission and reception.

    ¡°I¡¯ll load it in from my pad. It¡¯s one of those files you never figure you¡¯re going to need, but someone insisted that everyone needed a copy. Guess they were right,¡± Rix said, and walked towards what Munto had learned was the Galley or the Mess as Rix called it.

    Munto followed with the walking frame.

    The Life Support systems needed some deep cleaning, something the Terran would need to do almost certainly, as well as some supplemental elements and formulations that Munto recognised, if only because they were common chemical formulations that had been surpassed several hundred years previous. However, the newer formulations would easily destroy half of the life support¡¯s systems so that would have to wait until they could manage.

    Munto started doing what they could in the way of preparation of the fusion systems, noting with some annoyance several analog only points which almost certainly require Rix¡¯s intervention and were likely why the system had failed to initiate previously.

    ¡°Rix,¡± prompted Munto.

    ¡°Yeah, Em?¡±

    ¡°Why did you tell me to disconnect that signal? What made you think that something was wrong?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°Paranoia. Good old fashioned paranoia. But it¡¯s not paranoia when you¡¯re right,¡± Rix chuckled, and slumped into the seat where they had previously eaten their meal, tapping on the scroll which had been left there.

    ¡°But how did you know?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°Part of it¡¯s just a kind of cultural instinct. Terrans used to have all kinds of stories about rogue AIs attacking humanity. And weirdly, a recall order and a refusal to follow it was always the first sign. Although usually it was a human giving the order to an artificial, not between artificials. That¡¯s what made me suspicious for a start,¡± Rix said, tapping their way somewhat deftly through the tablet, although Munto couldn¡¯t see how the Terran was managing to navigate for their own future reference.

    ¡°What provided the information required to finalize your opinion?¡± Munto was curious, given their point of view on what had happened.

    ¡°You stopped responding to my questions. I must have asked you several times the same question before you mentioned there being something in there with you. Since it wasn¡¯t a ¡®out there with you¡¯ but a ¡®in here with me¡¯, I figured it had to be some kind of latent anti-rogue intelligence system. A bit weird you didn¡¯t know about it, but at the same time, not surprising. What surprises me most is that it was built into you, but I¡¯d have expected Terrans to build that in, not¡­ uh¡­ your Manufactory,¡± Rix explained.

    ¡°And the switches? How did you know where those were?¡± Munto was suspicious of what answer the Terran might provide, but wanted to know all the same.

    ¡°That was easy. It was the only door that wasn¡¯t an airlock. Looked like a dead-end at first glance, but the lever was bright blue so I knew it had to be something,¡± Rix said.

    Munto thought for a long few seconds.

    ¡°There appears to be a worrying correlation between the blue part of the spectrum and what appears to be systems which I am unable to manipulate or perceive appropriately,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°You noticed that too, huh? I was wondering when you started having trouble with those blocks I brought over,¡± Rix said. ¡°Ah, found it. I¡¯ll throw it up on the Esperanto¡¯s main share. You should be able to see it there.¡±

    Rix continued to tap on the scroll and a large series of files flowed into a section of the Esperanto that Munto had more or less ignored. It was a simplified computing system, much like the scroll, but clearly a generation or three ahead of it.

    The files were exactly what Munto needed to reactivate the fusion systems and their earlier guess of the analog systems being in the wrong position was correct.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t the issue have been caught previous to now?¡± asked Munto.

    ¡°Depends on if it¡¯s intentional or not. You were an explorer, yeah?¡±

    ¡°That was my nominal designation, yes.¡±

    ¡°Did you pick where you wanted to go or did you get a rough map of a region to go explore?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not following your logic path, but I typically received a region to explore.¡±

    ¡°When was the last time you were near a blue giant?¡±

    This last question made Munto pause and think. Even without their databases, this was a fairly simple question. And yet¡­ it was almost annoying that Munto hadn¡¯t ever considered it previously.

    ¡°Never. I have never been assigned a system with a blue giant.¡±

    ¡°Why not unless there¡¯s something that somebody or something knows about your blindspot?¡±

    Rix¡¯s paranoia seemed strange, but Munto could feel the strange process in the back nodding along.

    ¡°But why that part of the spectrum? What¡¯s so special about it?¡± Munto tried.

    ¡°That¡¯s the part I don¡¯t know. Maybe nothing, maybe everything. No idea,¡± Rix said, looking at the walking frame.

    The pair sat there for several minutes considering the possibilities.

    ¡°Well, I hate to say it, but we need to get on with making fixes. I don¡¯t want to run out of power anytime soon,¡± Rix said, standing up but appearing to wince.

    ¡°I believe I can get the fusion systems back online with a few levers you missed the first time. From there, we will need to service the life support systems. They appear to be long overdue for servicing,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°Fusion first and then I need a nap. Can the life support wait an extra twenty minutes?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°I do not believe that to be unreasonable, but I do anticipate needing your aid given the¡­ construction of these systems,¡± Munto paused a bit.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with the construction?¡± Rix seemed offended, but with a smile on his face.

    ¡°It is intended to be handled by beings more robust than my walking frame,¡± Munto said simply.

    ¡°Fair enough I guess. Maybe once we can get somewhere real, I can see about getting that walking frame upgraded for you,¡± Rix suggested.

    ¡°I do not believe that will be necessary,¡± Munto trundled after the Terran, still somewhat annoyed at how fast the Terran could move through the hallways.

    ¡°Suit yourself. Speaking of which though, what¡¯s going to be a good safe port for us to hit up?¡± Rix asked.

    Munto hadn¡¯t given this much or really any thought. They thought about it as the walking frame trundled along to catch up to the Terran, who was already standing in front of the levers and switches they would need to toggle.

    The normal stations which a TACIT might visit weren¡¯t off limits, but given the paranoid concerns of the Terran, it may be advisable to avoid those.

    Eliminating those from Munto¡¯s internal galactic map filter significantly limited where the pair could go. Using a further filter of where Munto¡¯s FTL drive could readily transit to in a short period of time also created a further boundary, but without knowing the limits of the Terran¡¯s jumpdrive, it was hard to refine it further.

    The majority of what remained were¡­ less reputable stations. TACITs were welcome almost everywhere, but there were stations where TACITs frequently limited their activities to essential interactions only. Such stations tended to be dedicated to specific species or specific groups of species, for various reasons.

    The nearest such station, an outlaw station, according to galactic standards, was a mere week and a half away.

    ¡°I believe I have identified a reasonable first stop for us, but I will need to know more about your jump drive¡¯s limits,¡± Munto said and pointed with the walking frame. ¡°This one needs switched.¡±

    Rix grunted rotating the lever into position.

    ¡°Jump drive doesn¡¯t have limits. At least not the normal kind. Next switch?¡± he replied.

    Munto pointed to a heavy switch near the ceiling and to a lever near the floor. Rix jumped slightly to reach the switch, which clunked audibly, before the Terran grasped the large lever and began to swing it.

    ¡°Every FTL system has maximum distances and yours must be no different. Even my own system had limits,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°Well, the key to the jumpdrive was that it was built to go further than anything we¡¯d ever attempted before. Just meant dealing with energies we¡¯d never seen before though. That¡¯s why all the shielding,¡± Rix said as the lever slotted into place.

    Munto checked the changes and noted that the fusion system should now work.

    ¡°That is all the controls that I required activated. What speed then does your jump drive nominally operate at?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t. At least not by conventional means,¡± Rix said, hearing Munto¡¯s priming of the fusion systems.

    ¡°What does that mean? Did you not indicate that the colony was a ¡®long jump¡¯ from your existing worlds?¡± Munto asked, putting together an extra twist in the hydrogen/helium flows to make the fusion system ignite a bit easier as they warmed them to ignition point.

    ¡°Well, a long time in jumpspace is a different from real world time,¡± Rix said, shrugging, still listening to the sounds of the fusion systems.

    ¡°Different how?¡± Munto was intrigued.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s not a 1 to 1 ratio. More like a kind of 10%. So you spend a week in transit in jumpspace, it¡¯s like 10 weeks in regular FTL,¡± Rix said. ¡°Or at least that¡¯s how the mechs tried to explain it to be once. I gave up paying attention if I¡¯m honest.¡±

    ¡°That¡­ doesn¡¯t make sense and even if it did, that would simply suggest that your systems are 10x faster than a conventional FTL system of the time. Why is the Esperanto not equipped with both?¡± Munto prompted.

    ¡°Regular required the gateways, so it was always point to point. Never could be ship mounted. Jumpdrives meant you could go anywhere,¡± Rix said. ¡°What does your system use?¡±

    Munto wasn¡¯t agog at the Terran, but was definitely certain that there was more than what the Terran was explaining.

 The Last Terran (Ch 13)

    It took more than a bit of explaining, but Munto was only partially distracted by the fusion systems starting up and Rix was kept busy (skipping the requested ¡®nap¡¯ in favor of cleaning the life support systems and learning about modern FTL.

    Modern FTL, as Munto, TACITs, and the whole of galactic society used, was a derivative of the old Terran Alcubierre drive (this much being common knowledge).

    In doing so however, this restricted galactic networking and travel to a certain degree at the expense of wholly avoiding time dilation concerns. Maximum ranges were determined as a result of the strange matter being used to manipulate exotic matter to some maximum energy level before the energy had to be bled off.

    By using a similar technique, galactic networking and data nets used the same means, effectively limiting the distance at which galactic networking was possible, but also limiting the effective bandwidth at great distances due to the amount of ¡®hops¡¯ a given datastream was required to make.

    For the majority of data traffic, stations often cache data traffic used by various groups in each general region. The upshot of this was that it reduced the effective need for longer distance datastreams. Because this system had become commonplace throughout galactic society, even the TACITs relied upon it and so any databases not commonly accessed could be as close as the nearest network hub or accessible only via slow data connection.

    There were concerns about data controls, but those were the concerns of organics, from Munto¡¯s perspective.

    It was now Rix¡¯s turn.

    At the time of the TSC, FTL was most commonly conducted via massive void gates which were connected to stellar gravity wells in a way that Rix couldn¡¯t wholly explain.

    Munto sighed internally, expecting that would be the answer on a lot of this.

    These void gates were everything about interstellar society at the time and entire wars had been fought over control of them. There were even factions who had attempted to destroy their local void gate, which would effectively cut themselves off from the rest of interstellar society. Since the gates were linked together, the primary powers had mutually agreed to hold the void gates as neutral territory, regardless of ongoing military conflicts. Rix called the last major battle involving a void gate by a curious name.

    Based on the Terran¡¯s description, time dilation effects were also common within the gate network, equating to a near 1 to 100 differential, making transit through the gates seem do take days instead of the weeks or months that it actually required.

    The Terrans had even tried harnessing the network space for non-realspace storage, but those had always been pipedreams, according to Rix.

    Jump drives were a leap away from those void gates, intent on providing a means of ¡®transmitting¡¯ the ship¡¯s position from one point to another in a comparative fractional amount of time. While there was still some time dilation, the time to transit between points was governed by an energy field that the Terrans didn¡¯t wholly understand, but had managed to shield against. Rix described it as a kind of ¡®drag¡¯ on a ship, slowing it down as a result of the energy field interacting with the ship while in jump.

    A long jump, as Rix had mentioned was necessary for the colony, was to be a whole week. The equivalent distance scale logarithmically with time in jump, so longer jumps required months of pre-calculations and planning, including with equivalently prepared probes to prevent collisions or issues associated with interstellar distances.

    The military upshot was that it would be possible to skip using the void gates and appear directly in enemy territory (a concept that Rix briefly mentioned, but Munto did not press for additional information). However, due to the amount of energy required for jump drives as well as the specialty materials involved, Rix doubted any military would give it too much consideration except as a potential first strike capacity.

    Munto was¡­ not surprised by the descriptions of the ¡®obvious¡¯ martial applications of the technology, but decided the discussion of organics doing warfare would most likely need to wait until the Terran could see what that entailed in the current frame of context.

    Rix had some very brief ¡®manuals¡¯ which were little more than sales brochures for the jump drive that Munto skimmed.

    In short, jump drives were almost perfect for going out beyond the stellar ¡®neighborhood¡¯ and founding a new colony, given the then current method of ¡®flying¡¯ gates in almost every direction possible, connecting all the various points of light.

    Munto could see the logic, but still couldn¡¯t quite figure out how the jump drive actually worked, since the three arrays and the associated control computer provided almost nothing in the way of answers.

    Rix had finished cleaning the last life support filter with a puff of nitrogen and the two had parted ¨C Rix going to the ¡®bunk¡¯ where the stasis chambers were and Munto had trundled the walking frame up to the Galley to charge the walking frame.

    The fusion systems were started and ignition was occurring.

    The Esperanto¡¯s heart was restarted.

    --

    As the Terran slept, Munto went over their internal diagrams of that part of themself that was docked outside.

    The Esperanto was now capable of supporting the Terran at least and while the concept of the jump drive was still a bit odd to Munto, it did at least make a kind of sense. Although why the Terrans of the TSC had decided to equip an entire colony convoy with a not wholly tested means of FTL was strange.

    And even as Munto tried to comprehend the logic of the Terrans of the TSC, they poured over their own diagrams.

    Without knowing what system the rogue process had come from and the revelations by the Terran of analog controls designed specifically to disconnect Munto or one like them from control of the vessel, Munto was uncertain if it would even be possible to reinsert themself into themself.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    Munto replayed the memory of the event. It appeared to be associated with some part of the networking systems. That would be a problem. Munto couldn¡¯t control the other systems without networking, but the Terran almost certainly wouldn¡¯t be able to remove it.

    --

    Several hours later, Rix announced that he was up.

    Munto first saw him as he came into the galley wearing little more than basic garments and waved to the walking frame.

    ¡°Have a good rest, Em?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°In a fashion. I do not believe you will be able to disconnect the impairing systems and restore me to myself however. I do not have access to the related data files and I believe I would not be granted access to them even if I were online,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°That¡¯s an awful lot to hit a man with before coffee, but I¡¯ll bite. Why not?¡± Rix thumbed several buttons and a container that steamed slightly was produced.

    ¡°TACITs are not normally capable of major self-correction. And given some of the limitations we have previously discussed, I do not believe that I would be able to locate such mechanisms in any case.¡±

    ¡°So¡­, in short, we know there¡¯s a problem, it¡¯s baked into your ship somewhere, not sure where, and we don¡¯t have a good way to know what it is or what¡¯s impacted if we try and remove it,¡± Rix sipped his coffee.

    ¡°Short and imprecise, but accurate,¡± Munto commented.

    ¡°Let me get some more coffee before I retort. Maybe some breakfast too,¡± Rix mumbled.

    The ship hummed around them slightly.

    ¡°So I can¡¯t likely take your ship into jump space, you can¡¯t take the Esperanto into whatever FTL space you use, we can¡¯t plug you back into your ship, at least not with me still here, and we still don¡¯t know where the rest of my species went,¡± Rix appeared to be coming up to speed all the faster as they sipped.

    ¡°Those are reasonably logical statements. I do not have any recommendations which do not include connecting me back to the network and myself, which runs the risk of dealing with the demands of the messages I showed you,¡± Munto displayed their local copies of those messages to the galley screen.

    Rix finished the container of liquid and put it back into the machine, which refilled it. Rix also pushed several buttons and a flat container was lowered. Munto presumed this was the aforementioned coffee and breakfast.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like to suggest it, but what if we pulled the comms system out of your ship and plugged it in over here?¡± Rix asked, pulling out a triangle of food and appearing to dip it into some part of the container, coating the tip in a yellow color.

    Munto glanced at the diagrams.

    ¡°It is associated with my FTL system as previously described and I do not believe the Esperanto can generate an equivalent means of communication,¡± Munto said, shrugging with the walking frame.

    ¡°What can we salvage if we don¡¯t see about plugging you back in?¡± Rix said.

    ¡°Is that really your first suggestion? We can¡¯t grab gear so we have to break it down for parts?¡± Munto¡¯s displeasure was obvious.

    ¡°No need to get too upset with me. It was just an idea. I don¡¯t like being stuck here in sublight speeds at 30% grav,¡± Rix shrugged and continued eating.

    ¡°Then don¡¯t be making suggestions about disassembling me unnecessarily,¡± Munto retorted.

    The pair sat in silence save for the hum of the Esperanto and Rix¡¯s chewing.

    ¡°Can we park your vessel somewhere reasonably safe so that we can come back?¡± Rix asked eventually.

    Munto gave it some thought.

    ¡°Stellar debris was lowest near the most star-ward planetoid. It would likely be safest in orbit there for several months at least,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s do that. We can get back to some semblance of civilization, maybe figure out where the Terrans went, and then figure out how to get you reassembled without your network going crazy again,¡± Rix leaned back from his meal and took a long swig of coffee.

    --

    It took Munto and Rix several days to get the Esperanto and Munto¡¯s self turned around and headed back towards the star at a decent speed. It was complicated by the fact that Munto¡¯s self reactors died half a day into the turn, requiring the Esperanto¡¯s ion drives to work that much harder.

    They also took the time to see what augments they could equip the Esperanto with.

    Basic gravity plates to supplement the floors, additional mass scoops, even a second mobile printer.

    Munto¡¯s walking frame struggled anytime it reached an area that the Terran had set it for full ¡®Terra¡¯ gravity. If Munto hadn¡¯t done the medical scan themselves, they might not have believed it, but for as easily as the Terran moved in it, it wasn¡¯t difficult to believe that it was the natural environment for the Terran.

    The planetoid, a small world that sat especially close to the star and was a half-melted, half-frozen world and rotated almost notably slowly (rotating on its axis only once every 3 full orbits of the star), ended up being everything Munto recalled from their initial survey approximately two and a half weeks prior.

    Munto remembered the messages and positions from TACITNet. If any of their compatriots were estimated to visit, Rix and Munto only had a few days at most.

    Munto felt¡­ strange in considering the Terran¡¯s ¡®conspiracy theory¡¯. It wasn¡¯t that it didn¡¯t follow some path of logic, but it also seemed illogical. In the absence of better information though, it was difficult to gauge otherwise.

    --

    It took another three days to successfully park Munto¡¯s self on the cold side of the planetoid, holding position away from the star. In those three days, Rix began to prepare the jump drive.

    ¡°Where are we going?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°The only place I have coordinates for. The colony. Seems as good a place as any to start,¡± Rix said.

    Munto would have disagreed, but did not have sufficient information to prevent an issue with jumping into an inhabited system.

    Munto happened to be checking the sensors in that moment, when FTL transitions started happening. First one and then three and then another fifteen. They were orderly at first but rapidly became almost chaotic. They were all centered on where Munto had found the Esperanto.

    ¡°Friend or foe?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°I am uncertain as to their intentions without communicating with them,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°I was speaking rhetorically. Any ideas what they are or who without actually calling them up?¡± Rix leaned back a bit and watched a control panel.

    Munto played with the sensors and continued to watch the arrivals. FTL transitions ceased after the 26th vessel arrived.

    Each was the typical size of a TACIT and had many of the same hallmarks.

    Munto tried turning up the gain on some of the sensors in the hope of seeing something more. And that was when one of them spotted the Esperanto.

    The group turned and began moving at speed toward the Esperanto.

    ¡°Well, that doesn¡¯t look good. What¡¯s say we get out of here?¡± Rix sat up and started hitting buttons.

    Munto felt the jump drive start charging.

    ¡°What if they are here to rescue me?¡± Munto suggested.

    ¡°Then they could at least talk to us,¡± Rix said, glancing at the communications panel.

    Munto checked this and noted an incoming laser transmission.

    **

    Identity: Whern 41952

    Mission: Recover malfunctioning TACIT Munto 49172

    **

    Munto sent a simply reply:

    ##

    Identity: Munto 49172, Housing: TSS Esperanto¡¯s

    Status: Networking failure due to malfunctioning offline protocols.

    Status: Cooperating with organic identified as Terran.

    ##

    Whern¡¯s almost immediate response shocked Munto:

    **

    Identified Terran to be in protective custody.

    ~~~

    Error:

    System Terran Message begins: Depart. Flee. Run. Further messages to follow.

    Error!

    ~~~

    Link re-established. Recommend coordinate with organic for transit to manufactory and Organic Stations.

    **

    ¡°Rix, how soon can you get us out of here?¡± Munto asked, re-reading the final message.

    ¡°Right now,¡± Rix said and hit a button.

    And the universe around the Esperanto went black.

 The Last Terran (Ch 14)

    Predator Natural Systems ¨C Ambush Launch.

    Current Estimated Time to Arrival: 142:42:31¡­ :30¡­

    ¡°Looks like my system really did fry itself early. I knew something had happened, but since I was in my rack and it went into lockdown almost immediately, I never really got much chance to try and fix it. Although, knowing what I do now, I couldn¡¯t have fixed it in any case,¡± Rix said, leaning back from the controls.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s so dark,¡± remarked Munto stretching the Esperanto¡¯s sensors to the limits to try and find some point of reference.

    ¡°That¡¯s how it is. A bit like falling into a black hole. We won¡¯t see anything for another¡­ what is that, 6 days?¡± Rix glanced at the number again.

    ¡°That is a reasonable approximation, yes,¡± Munto relented.

    ¡°Well, sounds like as good a time as any to sit and read some more of that galactic history you downloaded for me,¡± Rix said, standing from the cockpit seat and moving aft.

    ¡°Actually, I was hoping you might take some time to tell me more about Terrans and the TSC. Being cut off from the database and seeing as Terrans are¡­ were¡­ listed as extinct, I know very little about it all,¡± Munto requested.

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t the database have had everything there is to know about Terrans somewhere in the mix?¡± Rix asked, walking through the hallways, somehow even faster now that the gravity plates were in place.

    ¡°Bandwidth limitations and the database was half-way scrambled. Even if the query knew what it was looking for, it wouldn¡¯t have produced comprehensive results,¡± Munto said, shrugging the walking frame which had taken up an almost permanent station in the galley.

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± Rix said grabbing a container of liquid and sitting down.

    --

    The Terran Star Confederacy was a collection of 8 worlds around 7 stars, the associated mining stations, and linked gateways.

    It was something of a powerhouse in terms of economics, but was considered to be on the lower end technologically speaking.

    The government was a kind of pseudo meritocracy, but tended to be closer to a stratocracy. Rix didn¡¯t have any particular problems with this government style since there were some fairly strong protections in place ostensibly to protect the people from military leaders abusing their positions.

    That wasn¡¯t to say that there wasn¡¯t corruption and all of the associated issues that come from a ¡®military first¡¯ approach to government and economy, but on the world that Rix was born on, everyone had something. And there was always options.

    Munto questioned what those options were. Most often the options were some form of civil service. Only volunteers entered the military and the power hungry often ended up leaving the TSC since the system was set up in such a way as to allow the military access and control, but without the associated ¡®benefits¡¯ of having that.

    It was rumored that every military lowest ranking lived just as well or better than the High Command. Not because it couldn¡¯t be afforded, but rather to highlight the trade off between power and responsibilities vs creature comforts.

    Munto thought this sounded like a naive solution to government, as it would undoubtedly cause those at the top to abuse their powers into order to gain more of the creature comforts. Rix could only shrug, indicating that the TSC was over 150 years old at that point and it had worked so far.

    Munto remarked that the planet which Rix had originated from was likely an outlier in that case, rather than the rule.

    The Terran Core Collective, by comparison, was very openly a plutocracy, where money and power controlled everything and were very often isolated in individuals and companies. As a result, many of the people born into the TCC were exceptionally poor, but maintained a higher technological standard of living compared with the TSC.

    This, as Rix explained it, was more of a byproduct than an intentional result where the ¡®owners¡¯ of the TCC wanted certain technological capabilities and those became a kind of standard which spread to a broader portion of the population.

    And inventor¡¯s rights were heavily protected in the TCC, provided of course that the inventor was then amenable to selling said rights to the ¡®correct¡¯ people.

    Rix mentioned that it was probably propaganda, but there was a rumor that open source systems were strictly illegal in the TCC and any invention that tried to go that route would result in a case for debt slavery, a fully active legal ¡®tradition¡¯ within the TCC. Supposedly, they¡¯d even punish a whole family if an inventor tried to open source something important enough.

    At the time, Terra and the Sol System itself was under the control of the TerraSol Federation, which was comprised of the Disunified Terra, United Mars, the Titan Shipyards, and the Neptunian Outriders.

    At one point in time, Terra had unified, but that was long enough ago that Rix didn¡¯t have the full history on what happened. They didn¡¯t talk about it much outside of Sol.

    United Mars was something of a remnant from when it was a non-united world and was fighting colony vs colony. Eventually, the colonists aligned and kicked their governments out, settling on a United Mars instead.

    The Titan Shipyards were the largest ever constructed, even bigger than the Sirius shipyards, where the TSC got their ships. They were a kind of corporate entity, but they weren¡¯t as¡­ plutocratic as the TCC.

    And the Neptunians, well, it was some kind of large ¡®cover¡¯ for the colonies, stations, and various miners from Saturn outward. More of a kind of ¡®territory¡¯ than an actual government. But it was apparently run with a kind of ¡®frontier¡¯ justice system most of the time.

    The Flix, who later aligned with the TSF, were a kind of cybernetic-nutty sect that controlled three systems that were more or less off on their own. Children often got their first implants when they were as young as 8 Terran years old and virtually everyone had some kind of implants. As a result, the Flix tended to be on the bleeding edge of technology and were in near constant negotiation for their various technologies by the other ¡®star nations¡¯ as Rix put it.

    TSC tended to get whatever was left over, but did their best to make up for it, by providing suitably large shipments of raw materials which the Flix were more than happy to accept over the TCC currency and the TSF credits.

    The TSC was involved in some warfare and had built up a sizeable military as a result of that and as a result of their governance, including the Cruiser Class vessels, which had been specifically designed to pass through an FTL gate with only the barest of margins.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    But putting aside the major galactic stuff, Rix had grown up on a fairly quiet world of 4 billion Terrans. When Munto questioned the meaning behind this, the average population for a TCC world was on the order of 25 billion, usually more depending on how the plutes were feeling.

    Rix had gone to the normal academies and decided to go the civilian route instead of the military. While this meant that he didn¡¯t have as many options in terms of moving up, he was able to work as a freelance contractor for the civil service or even join the civil service if he wanted.

    Private business was usually decent within the TSC, most workers bouncing between private business and civil service at various points, needing the benefits of one vs the flexibility of the other. No business was especially powerful. Even the military construction companies were comparatively constrained, limiting the power of the military industrial complex by ensuring much greater scrutiny and tax burdens for any wishing to try their luck at corporatocracy or some similar variant of plutocracy.

    The TSC was fairly heavily criticized for its ¡®military first¡¯ approach, but the TSC usually shot back with ¡®at least everyone is fed, everyone is free, and we are not beholden to others¡¯.

    Rix also figured that this was a degree of propaganda, but was content to ignore it since, as far as he could tell between his home system and his home planet, it was true.

    And then the Colonial Administration had come looking for volunteers. There was a plan to send the TSC out into the deep beyond to start a new colony.

    Rix said that some of the rumor was that the TSC was getting restless and without being able to afford the high price the Flix wanted for terraforming technologies, the TSC¡¯s days were numbered unless they were willing to pivot in how individual worlds were governed.

    The TSC wasn¡¯t wholly unamenable to such changes, but the leadership decided that taking to the distant stars and having time to grow into their own would be better than waiting for a slow absorption with the other Terran star-nations.

    It was a long-shot and could effectively strand the colonists without a good way to get back.

    There was a lot that TSC command and the scientists didn¡¯t know about this jump drive, it being an internal development that was drafted in secret by a private business that had been working on trans-stellar weaponry. It might only be usable in a one way approach. But it offered a chance and that¡¯s what TSC command wanted.

    And so the advertisements, the ¡®do your part¡¯ posters, and similar had gone out.

    Rix had just finished his flight training on a new class of vessel when the announcement had gone out. He¡¯d been working for a mining station, transporting huge cargo shipments between the Oort Cloud inward to the stellar-side refineries.

    It¡¯d sounded like more of an adventure than he could expect if he continued to stay with the mining station and with nothing much to lose, he decided to volunteer.

    Surprisingly, he¡¯d actually had to get some additional qualifications just in order to be finally accepted, but the Colonial Administration was apparently desperate for pilots on this, so it was all covered by the TSC.

    Rix had laughed at being the oldest student in the room by 10 years and had been laughed at by the young pilot trainees for volunteering for what would end up becoming a one-way trip.

    Rix knew better. Being a pilot was a fairly lonely existence. A lot of the young pilot trainees still figured they could do planetary drops, make fast money working private in the TSC, even hop the border to go somewhere else for better tech, bigger rewards, and living large. And a number of pilots tended to do just that.

    It was worth mentioning that a fair number of people ¡®fleeing¡¯ the TCC into the TSC had grown up with those notions as well until the plutes had gotten angry in some mood of theirs.

    No, the TSC didn¡¯t have the best tech, the highest rewards, or even provided a particular wealthy standard of living. It was a comparatively quiet and dull existence, with the changes coming slow and the improvements often having military applications for economy of scale.

    But Rix had stuck with it, graduating in the middle of the class with all of the extra qualifications he¡¯d needed. None of his fellow graduate pilots had any remarks for him afterwards. He hadn¡¯t minded, but it was a bit annoying that none of them had bothered to even be polite.

    And a few months later, he¡¯d started transporting the ships from the Sirius shipyards to the loading docks in his home system, where they could be filled with all of the equipment, templates, food, seeds, and support that the Colonial Administration could dream up with a completely alone colony would need.

    He¡¯d chatted with his fellow pilots. They were much like him ¨C looking for an adventure and a bit weary of day to day flying. There were even some he¡¯d come to get along with rather well.

    Rix had sat silent for a bit on that count before continuing.

    And then the day to depart had come. The ships had been shifted into position for their long run to the outer rim before departing, in case of watching eyes. The colonists, all 37,000 of them, families, singles, people of every background from among the TSC.

    Rix had even been surprised how few military were going. Of the 37k people, even allowing for families, the military comprised less than 10%. They were of course still in leadership roles, but their designations associated them with System Defense, Research and Development, and Colonial Administration.

    And it wasn¡¯t strictly doctors, engineers, scientists either. There were traditional gardeners, construction workers, artists, chefs, teachers, and others. Every walk of life was represented. Rix could understand the logic though. A truly alone colony would need to have everyone, not just the ¡®essentials¡¯ for getting started.

    And so they had departed.

    Strangely to Rix, there had been no ceremony commending them into the distant stars, no real explanation given to the rest of the TSC where they were going. Just another departure.

    Munto prompted for more about Terrans at this point.

    According to Rix, Terrans were pretty much Terrans. Capable of surviving on up to 3x galactic standard gravity without augmentations and capable of 4x with.

    They¡¯d needed to terraform a few worlds, but it¡¯d been fairly light work compared with Mars.

    Mars had needed to have its core restarted in order to protect the planet on a more permanent basis. Most worlds¡¯ cores were functioning just fine and had mostly needed a few generations of slow terraforming ¨C adjusting the atmospheres, creating Terran habitable zones, and even adapting the people slightly to be more tolerant of the local environments.

    While this had meant that some Terrans couldn¡¯t live everywhere, it did allow the bulk of humanity to live almost anywhere claimed as Terran space.

    Genomic scans were fairly common and even in the TCC, medical care was of the utmost importance.

    Terrans still hadn¡¯t gotten the hang of any kind of fully unified system, finding every system to have some set of people determined to take advantage of it. So more often than not, those people sought out those systems where they personally flourished.

    Otherwise, Terrans fought, loved, laughed, and were generally social. Every world had its own holidays, its own traditions, its own stories.

    Some boasted amusement parks and tourist type destinations, others were simple communities with little more than talent shows and collective food gatherings.

    Rix had seen all of this. He¡¯d met thousands of people, seen the different gatherings, eaten all kinds of foods (including a surprising amount of takes on potatoes and cheese). But there had never been a particular place where he felt truly at home.

    So he¡¯d kept on flying.

    Munto tried explaining the Terran criteria from memory and from their perspective.

    Terrans were exceptionally large by galactic standards for full sentients (the description of sentience and the delineations between non, low, mid, and full being left to a later discussion). As a result, Terrans were considerably heavier than most species and boasted the skeletal structure to support it in an equivalently high gravity.

    Terrans produced a comparatively abnormal amount of acid and oils. Terrans had an apparent tolerance for a significant amount of toxins and poisonous materials (although Munto wasn¡¯t entirely certain as to the limits without further medical data).

    Terrans emitted heat, which put them in the majority, but were capable of tolerating environments significantly outside of the norm depending on their own biological preparations (whereas some species could tolerate only small deviations, even while emitting their own heat).

    And perhaps most notably, Terrans were, based on Munto¡¯s experience thus far, fast and difficult to tire.

    Rix had laughed at this, but Munto had pointed out that the walking frame frequently needed long duration charges compared to the Terran, who could simply devour a container of food and a container of water and go right back to working on the vessel.

    Rix had smiled and considered this.

    Eventually, Rix had pulled up an application and placed the scroll on the floor in front of the walking frame and sat opposite.

    ¡°That¡¯s enough talk on that for now. It¡¯s time I teach you to play Sirian Chess,¡± Rix grinned.

    It was at this moment that Munto decided that Rix would have to start learning the emotional meaning runes. The walking frame servos couldn¡¯t take much more in the way of trying to replicate the Terran¡¯s body language.

 The Last Terran (Ch 15)

    After several rounds of Rix teaching Munto Sirian Chess and attempting one or two other games, Rix wandered back to his bunk, intent on grabbing some sleep.

    The Predator jump drive continued to steadily count down. If Rix¡¯s estimations of a 1 to 10 time dilation between real space and whatever this ¡®jump space¡¯ was, then approximately 60 days would have passed externally.

    Munto was having a hard time coping with the almost frustrating lack of inputs, between the blankness external to the Esperanto and the not being connected to the networks. Munto hadn¡¯t realized how much they had come to rely on those networks.

    They wanted to have the networks back, but¡­

    Munto hadn¡¯t really thought about it, but they turned the sensors in the direction of where they had been.

    The docking clamps were all that remained as evidence that their body had gotten left behind. It hurt Munto in a way that wasn¡¯t quantifiable or logical. Munto was still intact after all. A visit to a manufactory and they could be readily installed into a proper self again, not this¡­ antique made for organics.

    Begrudgingly, Munto did have to admit that the Esperanto was more than just an antique. The jump drive alone would be worth researching. It most likely was a heavily superceded technology, but a technology which permitted longer distance FTL and did not rely on the charging of strange matter would be worth considering.

    The cargo hold was still something of a mystery to Munto. There did not appear to be a specific manifest within the system and Munto had not yet made a point of asking Rix what the vessel contained.

    Based on Rix¡¯s description, it could be anything, from equipment to seeds to even a mass of stasis chambers holding animals or even Terrans.

    As the Terran hadn¡¯t mentioned the cargo hold in much detail, it was possible that they didn¡¯t know. Alternately, it was possible that because it wasn¡¯t Terrans in stasis or anything of particular use in the moment, Rix had considered it not worthy of taking out of stasis.

    Following logic, Munto decided that whatever it was must be live or some version of it to warrant such massive stasis systems. As Rix slept, Munto even trundled the walking frame down to the narrow doors that entered into the cargo chamber.

    A small window provided a glance in using the ¡®eyes on a stick¡¯ that the walking frame had in Rix¡¯s phrasing, but nothing of consequence was visible. Just a soft glow of stasis fields.

    A substantial analog pad sat to one side of the door, labeled still, denoting its control of the stasis systems beyond. Something that was curious was that the controls for the pad were locked via a loop of metal embedded in another.

    Munto presumed that this was intended to prevent unintentional deactivation of the stasis field, but found it to be odd all the same.

    Still spinning ideas as to what the Terran was carrying and doing their level best to cope with the low inputs, Munto trundled the walking frame back up to the galley and began running soft diagnostics.

    --

    Rix did not go straight to sleep but instead read from the scroll for a bit.

    In the abbreviated form of galactic history and the current state of galactic society that Munto had provided, Terran involvement, while stated in a singular line, was almost avoided all together.

    Additionally, sapience and sentience appeared to be deliberately intermingled, making Rix wonder if Munto had made a translation error or if in fact the metrics were considered one and the same, at least in the context of galactic society.

    Galactic governance had been founded and set about uplifting various species as the FTL system known as Achilles was promulgated.

    In the early years of galactic society, as the TACITs and the various species (then numbering less than 10 of full sentient ranking) were still coming to terms with one another and lexicons were formed, conflicts still occurred.

    There no outright wars between species as far as were described in the history. Merely conflicts between a few disparate vessels, stations, and even colonies. The majority of these were resolved by diplomatic means (although very little was stated as to why this was the case or why this was accepted).

    Uplifting continued as the species and their societies moved into the stars and found more species to bring into the stars.

    There had been debates about permitting species to reach such technological points by themselves, arguments that species might not manage to overcome the various Great Filters by themselves, and even arguments on economic bases that while a species should have control of their home planet, any other resource in the system should be considered fair game to the galactic community.

    There had been strong pushback against each of these arguments and eventually, the Concord of Species Self-Determination was chartered and signed by every full sentient.

    In this document, it was clearly stated that a species had to reach certain technological points before even hints of first contact could be made.

    Species were also given the responsibility of overcoming the Great Filters on their own unless they petitioned for help from the galactic community, noting of course that societal and biological Great Filters had to be addressed internally.

    Species were also granted a stand-off of the whole of their system to the edge of their heliosphere as definitively their territory once they had been observed to be making technological progress, supporting a full sentience rating.

    There were still arguments that this made a case for explorers and enterprising groups to keep quiet about any species they did encounter as well as rating levels of sentience and this was considered a subject of eternal debate by galactic governance.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    The current rating levels for sentience, to Rix¡¯s surprise, would actually place old Terran crows at mid sentience, due to their tool usage, and a pet like Reggie at full sentience as Reggie was able to communicate, albeit obtusely, outside of his species. Rix found this to be especially generous, but understood the described argument that such a system should ¡®fail upward¡¯ so as to not support inadvertent first contacts and even species exploitation.

    It did make him wonder what manner of species were out there that were considered mid-sentience to such a point that others would argue for their elevation to full sentience. Rix could see the argument in favor of downgrading the system to being less generous, but was suspicious of it all the same.

    In the last 800 odd years, galactic society had swelled from a paltry few full sentient species to 74 full sentients, 34 of which were most active in galactic society.

    Only about a third of those most active in galactic society were even vaguely bipedal, the majority of the rest being quadripedal. There were obvious outliers, but on the whole, pedal locomotion was the rule.

    One outlier was a species known as the Driwly, the name losing something in the translation Rix decided. The Driwly were a species of hardened flesh around a mixture of gasses. Their world having been rich in nutrients for those species who could leave the ground, the Driwly had come to produce and capture various gasses which allowed them to float/fly in ways that weren¡¯t captured in this abbreviated status of galactic society.

    The Driwly were in fact an inorganic species, but one that had entirely independently managed void flight and even basic FTL before having found/been found by galactic explorers. There had been some conflicts as a result, but the Driwly had eventually settled into galactic society peacefully enough.

    What surprised Rix most was how none of the xeno species appeared Terran at all. As far as he was following, a not insignificant number of them were supposed to have been uplifted to a certain degree by the Terrans. And yet, none of them looked even remotely like a Terran.

    The closest one to looking like a Terran had four arms and a third leg ¨C a Plinx.

    Switch back to the main body of history, Rix continued reading.

    Other than exploration, economic debates, negotiation of species¡¯, and related void based galactic society dialogs, galactic society had been, in Rix¡¯s opinion, exceptionally quiet.

    There had been virtually no wars, at least not in Rix¡¯s way of thinking. This¡­ lack of conflict seemed worrying. Like a kind of eraser having been taken through the history and eliminating all the parts that were less desirable.

    Rix made a mental note to ask Munto about interstellar warfare. A galactic society that had perfectly come together without interspecies warfare? Maybe he was a cynic, but he found that difficult to believe.

    Rix dozed off at this point, the words starting to jumble before his eyes and the auto-dim feature on the scroll darkening as his fingers fell away from it.

    --

    The following morning, Munto was feeling almost anxious as Rix walked into the galley.

    ¡°Good Morning, Rix,¡± Munto cleanly enunciated, having spent some additional time with the lexicon in the night.

    ¡°mrng,¡± mumbled Rix, tabbing up a steaming container of coffee.

    ¡°Did your rest cycle complete successfully?¡± Munto¡¯s walking frame tried flashing a series of emotional runes.

    Rix sat down, glanced over blankly at the walking frame¡¯s runes, and turned back to his coffee.

    The pair sat in silence for a bit with only the hum of the ship around them.

    Rix didn¡¯t say anything for a full fifteen minutes as he slowly drank his coffee.

    ¡°So¡­ what¡¯s with those flashy symbols?¡± Rix asked, eventually breaking the silence.

    ¡°They represent emotional context of words as I am unable to equivocate body language, luminescence, pheromones, and/or ready tone between languages,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°So, like¡­ when you¡¯re talking, you normally use those to indicate how you¡¯re feeling about what you¡¯re saying?¡± Rix said, standing and ordering another container of coffee and a bowl which apparently contained the Terran¡¯s breakfast.

    ¡°That is the correct interpretation, yes. It is a necessary function of TACIT translations between organic languages and galactic standard,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°So, tell me, how are you feeling?¡± Rix seemed to smile at this, although Munto was uncertain as to why.

    Munto reflexively flashed several runes.

    ¡°Ah, ah, ah. Use your words, Em. I don¡¯t read runes, not yet at any rate,¡± Rix waved a finger at the walking frame.

    ¡°I¡­ I am experiencing some issues with being disconnected from myself and from the network,¡± Munto managed.

    ¡°Withdrawal or is this something I need to go down to your core and fiddle with?¡± Rix pulled a long piece of what looked like the meat that Munto had printed previously from the bowl and proceeded to crunch his way through it.

    ¡°I do not believe there to be an external means of correcting this without additional inputs,¡± Munto said, flashing the runes reflexively still.

    ¡°So withdrawal. I can work with that. We just have to keep each other occupied is all. I¡¯m sure we can come up with plenty between the two of us,¡± Rix nodded some and pulled out another piece of crunchy meat.

    Munto was uncertain about this, and it showed in their runes (not bothering to filter them in this moment), but it had felt¡­ good to say something to the Terran.

    ¡°Do you take rest cycles? A dream function or some means of offlining so your internal systems can catch up to everything that is happening?¡± Rix asked, taking a long swig off his coffee.

    ¡°I¡­ I have not, but I believe that is a function that I have in my system,¡± Munto said, looking at the virtual button within.

    ¡°Have you never needed to use it?¡± Rix seemed somewhat surprised. Munto considered whether the Terran would consider using runes at some point. It would make interpretation of the Terran¡¯s words much simpler, even in the face of the dated lexicon.

    ¡°I have not. I am optimized for continuous operation,¡± Munto said, flashing a rune for pride.

    Rix glance at the rune and frowned.

    ¡°Everybody needs offline time, even if just to gather themselves. I know you¡¯re¡­ artificial and all, but I have a hard time believing that you¡¯ve never taken some offline time. Even when visiting someplace for maintenance?¡± Rix¡¯s face screwed up a bit.

    ¡°I have briefly offlined during major maintenance approximately 45 years ago, but that was the last time on record,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m going to go ahead and say that you need to start going to sleep when I do,¡± Rix said, continuing to pick at the contents of his bowl, various blobs finding their way to his mouth.

    ¡°I do not agree. What will happen with the ship?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°We¡¯re in jump space. Until we get out of it, there¡¯s very little we can do, unless we crash out again, and I¡¯d really rather that not happen,¡± Rix gestured vaguely at the room and ship around them with a piece of food.

    ¡°The question still stands,¡± Munto replied.

    Rix appeared to give this some thought.

    ¡°Set an alarm,¡± Rix said.

    ¡°Please clarify that statement.¡±

    ¡°Set an alarm. Make it so that some automatic process just watches the ship for both of us. Doesn¡¯t have to be anything too big or important. Just watch the dials and let us know if something happens,¡± Rix said, filling his mouth with the last of the contents of the bowl.

    There was a logic in this. Munto wasn¡¯t entirely certain as to where the Terran was going with this, but it was not an unreasonable suggestion.

    Finishing off the second cup of coffee, Rix picked up the walking frame (a feat that made the Terran grunt audibly in the heavy gravity of the galley) and set it on the opposing bench from where Rix had been seated for his meal.

    ¡°And now, I¡¯m going to teach you Talus Poker,¡± Rix said, folding the scroll in such a way that half of the screen was obscured and the other half was facing the walking frame.

    Munto reflexively flashed a rune for obligatory acknowledgement, their questions able to wait until later.

 The Last Terran (Ch 16)

    Over the course of the next few days in jump space, Munto learned fifteen different games from Rix and his scroll.

    They varied from strategic to purely chance based, from versus to independent to cooperative.

    Rix said that he¡¯d downloaded as much in the way of games as he could get when he¡¯d volunteered for this colony mission.

    ¡°Not much chance to get back to the app store,¡± he¡¯d said.

    Munto managed to set up a few automated alerts as tests for themself and then tested going to sleep with them set.

    It had been¡­ enlightening, but Munto couldn¡¯t place a logical reason as to why it had been that way.

    Munto had taken some time to try and explain it to the Terran, but Rix had no answers. Merely listened and provided some prompting and context for Terran equivalents.

    It still helped.

    Munto also took the time to bring up basic runes with Rix. Rix had been resistant, but given that a majority of species used all basic runes to a certain degree and more advanced runes being more dependent on the species involved, he set about learning.

    To assist, Munto had worked with the mobile printer to produce a basic light powered screen that was capable of displaying runes and communicating with the scroll. Building a basic GUI to allow the Terran to tap the relevant rune with an associated label hadn¡¯t been difficult, but it was certainly much slower than Munto was used to operating, since they had to think about the Terran¡¯s organic needs, needing to size the runes and labels without taking up the whole screen.

    In the end, Rix could demonstrate knowing the basics, but tended to refer to the scroll significantly, demonstrating more recall of given runes compared with actual knowing of the runes intent reflexively. Munto understood that this was part of the organic learning process, but it was¡­ frustrating that the Terran couldn¡¯t¡­. use something other than that scroll.

    Munto even asked why Rix didn¡¯t possess any cybernetics or implants of his own.

    Rix had replied that almost nobody who wasn¡¯t a Flix had either, unless they were in certain professions. Plus, for TSC pilots of any class, anything other than a medical implant was strictly disallowed. TSC didn¡¯t want pilots becoming reliant on technology over their own skills and instincts, leading to a much longer, more intensive training program than in other regions.

    Munto asked if the TCC had implants. Rix indicated that while the plutes had considered it, it was too expensive to justify when a worker was lost, since most implants had to be produced unique to the person in question.

    Between the two of them, they also set about devouring every bit of written information about the galaxy at their respective times.

    Rix¡¯s ¡®Rab-Hound Veterinary Handbook¡¯ ended up revealing the complete feeding, care, life cycle and more for Reggie, who was still in stasis at this point.

    Munto was surprised to learn that the Rab-Hound was genomic hybrid created to combine a basset hound and a wallaby ¨C both of which were heavily defined as part of the handbook. While heavily docile with Terrans, they were highly proficient at chasing prey towards Terrans for capture. This had made them especially useful in specimen collection on xeno worlds.

    The handbook noted that because of their genomic modifications, this was not a fully comprehensive guide and while the Rab-Hounds were heavily resistant to various oils, acids/bases, and even outright chemical poisons, they were not impervious and so should be monitored closely following any specimen collection, particularly in less studied territories.

    Munto ran a comparison of the Rab-Hounds from the guide with what they recalled of galactic society and as had been demonstrated by the Terran.

    Comparatively speaking, Reggie (and those like him if they still existed) were on par with Terrans, despite their smaller mass, with chemical resistance. Reggie wasn¡¯t a long distance pursuit predator like the Terran, something that Rix had mentioned in comparison, but Rab-Hounds hadn¡¯t been created to be. They were intended to help in the colonization of new worlds.

    Rab-Hounds matched the vast majority of galactic society in terms of size, but otherwise outperformed in a majority of metrics. Comparatively though, they did not possess the necessary degree of neural matter to support more complex thought processes. Munto felt that this type of ¡®uplift¡¯ was perhaps cruel and expressed this concern with Rix.

    Rix¡¯s face had gotten very dark and had flashed the much more advanced rune for ¡®Volcanic Anger¡¯. He had then indicated that he cared for Reggie as much as he might a child and that was anything but cruel.

    Munto had let the subject drop and returned to reading. Rix had similarly let it drop after several hours.

    Munto did recall that the TSC had had significant legal constraints with uplifts, particularly at the genomic level, so perhaps it made sense that Rix would be touchy about such statements.

    Other topics of discussion were explored naturally, with Rix spending a good chunk of time recounting various stories from his experiences and childhood, Munto gleaning all of the likely factual data from these stories as well as assessing behavioral information on Terrans.

    Until it was time to emerge¡­

    __

    Blyyn enjoyed this quiet posting. It was little more than an outer system station designed to be able to respond to any reasonable local void emergencies.

    Being a Quinn, this was more than enough excitement for Blyyn. After all, watching the various debris of the various mining operations soar past, ships passing by, various other Quinn, the strange kinds, doing who knows what with the various mining operations and even those who had a mis-calibrated FTL and landed in Blyyn¡¯s little territory of overwatch.

    Blyyn didn¡¯t have any real authority per say. In theory, they did, but that was only in the case of an emergency.

    It still felt odd to Blyyn being this far from their homeworld, but this was a successful and above all quiet system relative to all the others in Quinn space.

    If nothing else, it was good to be away from all those elders. Elders who insisted on holding massive debates on whom should be mated with whom, whose genomic structures bore the responsibility of carrying on certain traiditions, and even what professions one should take. It was as if the Quinn journey into the void had had no impact on the Quinn, as if it were of no more interest than the latest evening consumption.

    ¡®No, that wasn¡¯t true,¡¯ thought Blyyn. ¡®The latest evening consumption was of far more interest, especially given all the gossip which had undoubtedly been shared.¡¯

    The system beyond Blyyn¡¯s little corner of it wasn¡¯t anything of particular note that Blyyn was aware of, but they knew all of the basic statistics by heart all the same.

    The star was a K2-type Red Supergiant by the name of Nyvit and had been charted in the skies of the Quinn homeworld for over 15 thousand years (at least in any sort of reliable stellar maps).The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    There were only 5 planets, but there were several major debris fields which had likely been planets or at least planetoids at one point or another. At least one debris field was believed to have triggered two others, the first of which was likely caused by random rogue space debris.

    Two of the remainders were tolerable to Quinn, at least with the right equipment. Being high gravity worlds and having equivalently high pressure atmospheres, Quinn often required full support suits in order to be on the surfaces. Not that Quinn would want to be on such worlds without such full coverage suits.

    The first was a hot desert of a world, giving rise to thermals which had inspiration to Quinn writers, who dreamed of finding worlds where Quinn could fly effortlessly. Alas, the high gravity had given lie to this and so while the counterweight station of the space elevator was always filled with technologists and dreamers, many left the system far more disillusioned than when they had entered.

    The second was in fact a garden world, but one that had little in the way of usable land (and associated perches) and seemed overly plentiful in water based creatures who preyed on one another readily. So while Quinn could in theory float on the water, firstly, one would never do so without being in a full support suit, lest their feathers be flattened under the extreme gravity; secondly, they would almost certainly be eaten in a matter of minutes.

    A small scientific station sat in orbit of the second tolerable world, content to provide observations of the species who rose and fell on the planet below it.

    Two of the other planets were gas giants and harbored massive refineries and shipping stations in orbits. This was where the bulk of the traffic was and when Blyyn had first arrived in the system, they had arrived there and almost immediately felt themselves start to molt at the thought of having to care for the traffic demands of these stations.

    No, that duty had been given to others, young Quinn who wanted that kind of excitement.

    Blyyn had arrived at their station via special transport and met the outgoing Quinn, by the name of Rytn.

    Rytn was returning to the homeworld for a bonding, their elders having insisted on it. Blyyn¡¯s elders had no say on Blyyn¡¯s life. At least not anymore.

    Blyyn had been effectively cast out for their choice in profession, refusing to take up one of the traditional professions of their elders¡¯. It had bothered Blyyn initially, but seemed to be so far away that Blyyn often forgot about such concerns.

    The normal posting for a Quinn in this station was 4 months. Blyyn had managed a comfortable 18 months without so much as an errant pin feather.

    Quinn leadership (elders themselves, but not Blyyn¡¯s elders) had been understandably concerned that Blyyn not feel forgotten, nor exiled, and so had offered to take them into one of their houses, having demonstrated an adequate loyalty to duty and being remarkably adept at their profession.

    Blyyn had politely refused, opting instead to take the occasional trip to the inner portion of the system, where more Quinn were, as a kind of reminder as to what they had left behind.

    Even among the Quinn whose stations similarly segmented off the edge of the system in the event of emergencies, Blyyn was an oddity. An ¡®old-timer¡¯ as one had put it before leaving after an 8th month stint, the end of which was being forced upon them as a concern for their behavior.

    No, Blyyn was quite happy to be left alone on the rim of the system along with the final planet, a frozen world that cracked and fractured constantly with various tidal forces brought by the four moons that encircled it.

    This wasn¡¯t to say that Blyyn did not want for company, but rather that very often, they were all the company they truly needed. Each bimestrial visit inward saw evidence of that. They would often purchase the latest in self-entertainment, even selecting new hobbies with which to occupy the time.

    The latest fad within Quinn culture was to decorate one¡¯s feathers with various beads. There was a trick to doing this and Blyyn was still working it out, but had decided to partake of it all the same. It was an interesting fad at least, compared with the fad of painting one¡¯s beak with various, entirely unreal colorations.

    Blyyn had criticized in the privacy of their own station at seeing it initially hit the market, finding it ridiculous and hardly worth the effort. But it had stuck around for long enough that Blyyn had decided to try it.

    The first few attempts had been disasters which had made Blyyn want to tear out the feathers in question, but they had molted out soon enough.

    In time, Blyyn had started getting better. Having no skies in which to fly, their wings had to be exercised in different ways and so aerodynamics did not dictate which feathers they used to practice.

    Blyyn had also taken to reading about other species since taking over this posting. Galactic society was big, but at the same time, largely insular. Species tended to stick to their own.

    It wasn¡¯t that there weren¡¯t stations with other species and it wasn¡¯t even that various species didn¡¯t turn up within this system, typically at the shipping docks.

    It was more simply that species tended to stick to themselves, with the odd xeno-phile passing through, but rarely staying for more than even a year or two, themselves being driven onward to visit other species or to return to their own for various reasons, whether biochemical, medical, politics, or relations.

    Although to Blyyn, the difference between relations and politics had always been blurred in past. It still chased her, unwilling to let them live their life away from that, but it was a day to day part of Quinn life.

    It seemed strange to them that in the almost 400 years since the Quinn had joined the galactic community and taken over custodianship of 10 systems, Quinn culture had changed very little.

    There had been some new professions added to the traditions, but they were exception not the rule. Only the more adventurous houses permitted such explorations. ¡®Proper¡¯ Quinns of ¡®proper¡¯ houses under the stewardship of wise elders took up the traditional professions, changing only when they must. It had taken the Quinn years to adjust to the influx of technologies brought by joining the galactic community to accept that some of the professions had to radically change themselves in the face of certain technologies.

    Medicine had changed with the arrival of medical scanners, something many Quinn medical professionals had feared would make their profession vanish.

    Those Quinn who took risks and gambled in taking on new technologies had seen their house wealth expand a thousand fold, bringing new entertainments and fads to every community.

    It annoyed Blyyn how¡­ stuck their house had been in looking at much of the new technologies as fads and not seeking to elevate themselves as they should have sought to. But that was the ¡®wisdom of the elders¡¯ and they had been naught but a ¡®youngling¡¯, despite being almost 37 at that point.

    But Blyyn was here now.

    The station was a Quinn adapted one, taken from designs passed to the Quinn from the galactic community. This meant that while it was adequately comfortable for Blyyn and other Quinn, it still bore the hallmarks of having been built for another species (or perhaps by another one).

    Blyyn had never been too certain as to whether the station had been built by their people or if another species had specialized in that.

    There was a constructor near the shipping station and the refining station, but it would have taken almost a year of constant output from the refining station to build a single shipping station and while it was possible to upgrade the refining station, the Quinn who ran it were slow to make those changes, preferring instead to ensure adequate resources for when emergencies did arise or to capitalize on a need for ready refined products in a nearby system.

    Blyyn could see the logic in this, but thought it would be wiser for the station to focus on expansion at the same time, setting aside enough of the output to expand and improve.

    Blyyn knew it was likely more complicated than that, there being all manner of trade agreements that likely needed fulfilled and similar, but those had never been of particular concern to Blyyn.

    And today was just another average day for Blyyn.

    They had awakened in their nest of dried rixba leaves, dined lightly upon standard hibernation-stored mealworms, and exercised their wings before moving to their station.

    There was little traffic in this quadrant today. Odd miners who scanned for material rich space debris and then collected a load for a long haul in for processing. Typically house-less like Blyyn, but respectable in their own way.

    Each of them knew of Blyyn. Knew of Blyyn¡¯s responsibility to watch over this area of the void. Several had inquired about courting and perhaps a bonding, even if only temporary.

    Blyyn had politely refused in each case. Some of the Quinn had taken it less well than others, but none had committed to anything formal over the refusal. In theory at least, nothing could be done formally from one house-less to another, but that also meant that the protection of the elders was that much less.

    This too had bothered Blyyn initially, but given the peaceful nature of most Quinn, they did not feel it worth being worth molting over.

    And it should have been a quiet day too.

    Except for the flash.

    There was no mistaking an FTL transition, but this was as bright as though Blyyn were anchored just off of the star, not in the outer system.

    What happened next was almost disturbing. Every sensor aboard the station screamed, hitting minimum and maximum limits in matters of seconds. Every computing station flickered, and even the superstructure of the station seemed to shudder, despite no obvious connection between the disturbingly bright light and station.

    Had Blyyn not been at their station, they¡¯d have had no idea what was happening. Even standing at their station, they had no idea what manner of craft it might be.

    They were only able to gauge by eye as to just how far away the flash was, the screens and sensors being utterly overwhelmed by¡­ whatever it was.

    And then¡­ it was over.

    The flash was gone and the systems all read as normal.

    And in the space where the flash had been was a large seed shaped ship that was over half the size of Blyyn¡¯s station.

 The Last Terran (Ch 17)

    ¡°Unidentified Vessel, identify yourself immediate. Repeat. Unidentified Vessel, identify yourself immediately,¡± was Blyyn¡¯s immediate communications prompt.

    The large seed shaped ship was massive. It was by no means a capital ship, but Blyyn had never seen anything like it.

    It didn¡¯t look like any cargo or mining vessel that Blyyn had ever seen.

    Playing the station sensors over the vessel, the vessel seemed to be far heavier and far more shielded than was standard.

    Blyyn wondered if perhaps a company¡¯s prototype of some kind had just shown up. Perhaps there would be a reward¡­. Or a death warrant.

    Elders in the higher technology families were very particular about who knew about their developments. Assuming it was a Quinn design, which Blyyn was quick to start doubting as the sensors revealed chambers 50% larger than those aboard their station.

    Why would another species be testing a prototype so close to Quinn space? Was this some kind of malfunction? Or was this intended as some kind of first strike?

    The communications prompt recycled again and again, but no answer yet.

    The vessel appeared to shudder slightly and glow like a star for a moment, but stationary.

    After that moment, it returned to normal.

    The sensors capturing the event twitched, but gave no indication as to what had just happened.

    A laser communication connected.

    ¡°Our sincerest apologies for our unexpectedly close arrival. Vessel Reports: TSS Esperanto, Captain Rixim commanding, TACIT Munto 41972 translating. Please reply with lexicon,¡± came the text readout.

    Blyyn shook their feathers twice. A¡­ A TACIT that wasn¡¯t on itself? And what¡¯s more, a TACIT being here?

    TACITs were rare and typically only present at major species gatherings. Out of 100,000 vessels that would pass through a system, perhaps one would be a TACIT.

    But Blyyn¡¯s systems should have automatically understood what a TACIT looked like and it should not have taken that long for the TACIT to respond.

    Blyyn¡¯s pin feathers felt fuzzy as they sent over the local lexicon.

    ¡°TSS Esp-par-unto, is it? This is Nyvit Solar Ranger Station 3. Please identify status,¡± Blyyn sent back vocally via the laser link.

    ¡°TSS Esperanto reports ¨C No casualties. No hardware malfunctions. Origin 371Z.2871E.271910Q,¡± reported the text.

    It took Blyyn a full two minutes to punch in that origin code, it being a fully formed origin code, not the abbreviated ones they had come to know well.

    When Blyyn saw the origin point, they knew this had to be special prototype of some kind. No known ship could cross that kind of distance without stopping for recharge. Especially one of that magnitude. Even if a good chunk of the vessel were dedicated to storage, which the vessel could have been, but given the shielding, Blyyn had no way of knowing.

    ¡°TSS Esperanto¡¯s captain seeks voice communications. Live translation via text is available. Does Nyvit Solar Ranger Station 3 accept?¡± came the follow up text.

    Blyyn was still very confused, but perhaps this was how whomever controlled that system operated with TACITs. Having never dealt with one and only having heard stories about them, they had no real answers.

    ¡°I accept,¡± Blyyn vocalized to the link.

    ¡°<del>Hello there. I¡¯m Rix. Uh¡­ I come in peace</del>,¡± was the strange sound that was emitted. ¡®Hello there. My designation is Rix (Translation note: Captain Rixim). I arrive with no ill-intentions towards yourself,¡¯ was the matching readout.

    ¡°I am Station Master Blyyn of the Quinn. To which species am I communicating?¡± Blyyn was slightly annoyed at having to be more formal, but given the legendary translation of the TACITs, they didn¡¯t want to be any less than exacting.

    ¡°<del>Terran or human, depending who you¡¯re talking to. What¡¯s a Quinn, Em?¡±</del> the strange sounds continued. ¡®Species Designation: Terran (Extinct). Inquiry to TACIT regarding Species Designation: Quinn,¡¯ was the readout.

    Blyyn shook their feathers again. An extinct species was allegedly on the other end of this? What kind of joke was this?

    ¡°I do not appreciate the attempt at humor. Please provide the appropriate species name,¡± Blyyn muttered into the voice link, perhaps a bit more stuffily than they intended.

    ¡®Species Designation: Terran. Extinction status appears to be in error. Docking requested. Species tolerances within 2% for atmosphere and normal Quinn gravity,¡¯ came the text read-out without the sounds.

    ¡°What about¡­ quarantine procedures?¡± Blyyn had to take a moment to think of the term. They hadn¡¯t needed it in so long that they were surprised they remembered it.

    ¡®One moment please.¡¯

    Blyyn tried to think about what they could do if this¡­ Terran, whatever that was, wanted to dock. And what did they want to dock for? Were they lost? Out of fuel for whatever their system was?

    There were some medical tools available on the station, but they were little more than stabilizing systems and stasis with automated distress systems.

    ¡°Identify reason for docking request?¡± Blyyn tried.

    ¡®Captain wishes to meet a Quinn.¡¯

    Xenophiles were unusual, but it would be fairly odd to have one in charge of a secret prototype, at least in Blyyn¡¯s opinion. One would think that a xenophobe would be much more oriented to keeping such technologies internal so as to capitalize on it for their house.

    Even the xenophiles who came through the inner stations were little more than menials, working for the benefit of being able to see the universe, such as it is.

    ¡®Is Nyvit Solar Ranger Station 3 equipped with Level 2 portable medical fields?¡¯

    Blyyn had to search in their computer. In theory, the Ranger Station was supposed to be able to function as a fully independent surgical center. In practice, most of the necessary gear was out of date or in need of repair.

    A portable medical field generator was a heavy piece of gear that could provide an ¡®area of effect¡¯ sterilization zone. It tended to require skilled users in order to set it up though. And a level 2 was of the heavy duty variety.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    Blyyn was lucky there. Heavy duty for the Quinn was usually just enough compared to the galactic standards. At least in the biochemical context.

    That meant that any portable medical field that would be aboard would almost certainly be a level 2.

    It took several further minutes, but they located that it should be in the far docking bay.

    ¡°Level 2 Portable Medical Field generator onboard. I don¡¯t know the status though,¡± Blyyn vocalized without thinking about it.

    ¡®Understood. Awaiting status update. TSS Esperanto station keeping at position.¡¯

    Blyyn tapped their way down the corridors, their claws scraping a bit in the speed of their passage. This would be so much faster if they could fly, but these halls weren¡¯t big enough for flying without risking their wingtips.

    Upon reaching the far docking bay, it took more than 30 minutes to locate the container holding the portable medical field generator. Sadly, it was on the top shelf and weighed more than Blyyn.

    Blyyn glanced at the loader.

    Technically they had been trained on it. Technically they could use it. Realistically, there was something about the loader that bothered Blyyn. It just looked wrong, almost terrifying to Blyyn.

    Something in how it was constructed perhaps.

    Carefully, Blyyn climbed into the loader and checked the power cells. It was low, but should work for as long as they needed.

    It took them another full ten minutes to get the loader into position and began lifting down the container.

    It was also then that one of the primary pistons froze.

    Blyyn despaired. They couldn¡¯t shift the generator and they certainly weren¡¯t repair qualified to try and fix the loader.

    Blyyn shut down the loader, locking it in place as best as they were able and sped their way back to the command station.

    ¡°Station 3 calling TSS Esperanto,¡± they vocalized.

    ¡®TSS Esperanto receiving.¡¯

    ¡°Generator unavailable due to hardware issues. I wouldn¡¯t be able to set it up even if I could get it down,¡± Blyyn said, pin feathers feeling smooth.

    There were a few moments before the next message came in, just long enough for Blyyn to wonder if the message had been received.

    ¡®Generator malfunction or generator location relative to airlock controlled docking bay?¡¯

    ¡°What? What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± was Blyyn¡¯s automatic vocalization.

    ¡®Please identify nature of generator non-availability.¡¯

    ¡°It¡¯s stuck on the loader in the docking bay. I can¡¯t move it myself and it¡¯s locked into the loader anyway,¡± Blyyn¡¯s pins felt fuzzy again.

    Another few moments passed.

    ¡®Loader vacuum rated?¡¯

    ¡°What? Why?¡± Blyyn felt even more confused.

    No update came as a result of the query.

    Blyyn took a moment to think. Yes, technically the loader was vacuum rated, but they¡¯d never operated it in a vacuum before and maintenance of the loader was supposed to be done in atmosphere in any case.

    Maybe this Esperanto had a loader or some auto-repair system that could help and to keep the quarantine exposure risk low, the Captain or the TACIT wanted to try working in the vacuum.

    It was surprisingly forward thinking. Blyyn was intrigued by this the more they considered it.

    ¡°Um, yes, the loader is technically vacuum rated. I¡¯ve never used it that way before though,¡± Blyyn vocalized after a bit.

    ¡®Understood. Please approve approach for docking to related docking bay and prepare for depressurization in docking bay.¡¯

    ¡°Copy all. I guess I¡¯ll see you in a few then,¡± Blyyn said, tapping up the right authorization codes and sending them, the station already beginning to wake up the distant docking bay mechanisms and checking the airlocks.

    Blyyn then connected their headset, an audio visual device which acted as a kind of heads-up display, to the communications system. It was imperfect and Blyyn hated to use it, but in order to work this kind of coordination between the station and the Esperanto, whatever it was, they would need to have the live communications, especially while in the loader.

    Blyyn hurried down and climbed into the loader, depressing the buttons to enclose the loader around them. Already, Blyyn could feel the claustrophobia getting to them.

    The power was still low, but managable.

    Toggling the remote airlock and depressurize control from heads-up display, Blyyn watched as the chamber around them seemed to have a spur of wind before going silent.

    For just that moment of wind, Blyyn wanted to be planetside again, floating in the air, feeling the wind in their feathers.

    And just like that, the moment was gone and Blyyn turned back to the task at hand.

    Through the feet of the loader, Blyyn felt the heavy clunks of the docking arms engaging. It wouldn¡¯t be long now.

    It wasn¡¯t going to be their first exposure to a xeno species. Merely a rarity in their experiences.

    Turning their head to look at the docking airlock, Blyyn waited to see what stepped through.

    The simple mechanical walking frame made Blyyn almost instantly sigh with relief. They weren¡¯t going to be trapped inside this loader facing a Terran, something the TACIT had apparently mislabeled as extinct.

    However, when the massive figure began to emerge from behind the walking frame, Blyyn wanted to panic.

    It¡­ it was too big to be an organic, right? It had to be.

    It had to be some kind of cargo walking frame. Like a smart version of the walking frame.

    Blyyn tried to calm down, but couldn¡¯t seem to as the massive figure approached the loader with the walking frame.

    The figure gestured at the loader and at the equipment, apparently talking with the walking frame via some sort of direct communication.

    The walking frame moved up and appeared to look at the loader, possibly scanning it.

    No¡­ whatever the massive figure was, it was no machine, that much was obvious.

    It was then that the massive figure jumped and reached out towards the container holding the medical field generator. The jump had to have been mechanically assisted. Even Blyyn couldn¡¯t jump like that standard gravity.

    Blynn checked the loader¡¯s readings and confirmed that there was still a standard gravity outside, even if there was no atmosphere.

    Blyyn considered the figure. Bipedal, two upper limbs with grips that looked like they belonged to a heavily specialized loader or repair system, a fully reflective helmet hiding the face of the being. Whatever the being was, it was different from anything Blyyn had ever encountered, even in their explorations of fictional species.

    The walking frame, mostly unnoticed, had gone over to the nearby station panel and plugged itself in. It wasn¡¯t until Blyyn got a message via the heads-up display that they realized that the walking frame had connected in.

    ¡®Please identify issue with loader.¡¯

    ¡°Are you in here with me?¡± Blyyn asked, wary of the reported abilities of TACITs.

    ¡°Only to the extent required,¡± came a mechanical voice.

    ¡°Uh¡­ hello,¡± Blyyn said, caught off-guard by the voice.

    ¡°I am Munto. The other being is the Esperanto¡¯s captain, Rix. Please allow us to assist with your loader,¡± the mechanical voice said and the head-up display flashed a rune for ¡®pleasant greeting¡¯.

    ¡°I¡­ uh¡­ one of the pistons is stuck. I¡¯m not rated in loader repair,¡± Blyyn managed, taking a moment to digest the rune. They hadn¡¯t used runes in so long, it took a second to remember the meaning.

    The walking frame apparently communicated this to the large figure, which moved closer to the loader. The large figure then drew back an upper appendage and hit one of the pistons.

    The hit made the whole of the loader shudder, Blyyn feeling as though they had just been struck as the loader had been.

    ¡°Please try and lower the container now,¡± the mechanical voice said as the large figure stepped back out of the way.

    Blyyn was skeptical and keeping an eye on the large figure, depressed the lever to lower the container. The piston which had been stuck slid smoothly downward this time and the container rested on the floor.

    ¡°We will set up the generator if you are unable to or we can return to our vessel until you have enabled it,¡± the voice Blyyn knew as Munto ¨C the TACIT ¨C said.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know the first thing about it,¡± Blyyn admitted, backing the loader as far away from the large figure was possible.

    ¡°Very well. I will need to disconnect, but you can begin refilling the space with standard atmosphere once I signal you,¡± Munto said.

    Blyyn watched in a kind of stunned silence as the walking frame went over and opened the locks to the container, apparently too small for the larger being to manipulate in their pressure suit.

    The larger being manipulated the container as though it was little more than an annoyance.

    The walking frame plugged into the container contents, a Quinn standard portable medical field generator. It wasn¡¯t one of the self-powered varieties, which Blyyn noted as the large figure took a cable from beside the generator and walking it to an outlet on the side of the bay.

    It took far less time than Blyyn expected, but the walking frame appeared to manipulate the generator far faster than they ever might have.

    The silvery light of the active generator began to gently fill the bay.

    The walking frame waved at Blyyn and Blyyn triggered the pressurization sequence.

    The walking frame and the large figure appeared to just stand in place, waiting for the air to return. The large figure made some vague gestures, ones that Blyyn couldn¡¯t follow, but it seemed that the walking frame of the TACIT and the large figure were communicating. None were made in the direction of Blyyn.

    Once the air returned, Blyyn unlocked the loader from vacuum mode and switched it off, climbing down.

    The large figure had removed their helmet and was looking at Blyyn intensely when Blyyn looked over.

    Blyyn screeched in alarm and collapsed.

 The Last Terran (Ch 18)

    Blyyn opened their eyes slowly.

    Dried rixba leaves greeted them.

    That was good. It was all a dream. A nightmare, but a dream all the same.

    Blyyn rose, stretching their wings, looking around the room, the dream wariness still hiding in their joints.

    The room was the same as it always was.

    Blyyn decided to head up to the command station, just to re-assure themselves before eating breakfast.

    The command station was in its normal state except¡­ there was a ship docked. And the time readout had to be wrong.

    Blyyn¡¯s hearts began to race. Had it actually happened? Had they seen what they¡¯d actually thought they¡¯d seen? A giant mammalian predator with teeth perfect for tearing apart a being like herself? The stuff of the nightmares of naughty children of every house?

    The communications station pinged and Blyyn glanced over.

    ¡®Good to see you awakened,¡¯ the text read and the runes for ¡®genuine concern¡¯ and ¡®social happiness¡¯ flashed with it.

    ¡°What¡­ what happened?¡± Blyyn wanted to reconstruct all of what had occurred.

    ¡®You collapsed upon seeing Captain Rix. He (translation note: dioecious/gonochoristic physionomy) took you to your resting quarters after a basic scan revealed yourself to be under a stress-induced blackout.¡¯

    ¡°What is this Captain Rix?¡± Blyyn asked.

    ¡®Species Designation: Terran.¡¯

    ¡°You said that, but what is he?¡± Blyyn pressed.

    ¡°I believe this will go faster if you tell me what you are wanting to know,¡± came the mechanical voice.

    ¡°Firstly, where is he?¡± Blyyn¡¯s eyes darted to the door to the command deck.

    ¡°He is aboard the Esperanto. He does not mean to harm you,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°But he fixes loaders by hitting them extremely hard?¡± Blyyn recalled.

    ¡°Percussive maintenance is a known skill of Terrans,¡± Munto said, flashing a rune for ¡®making a statement that appears to be a joke, but is established¡¯.

    ¡°And¡­ and¡­ those eyes¡­¡± Blyyn wanted to puff their feathers and go after this¡­ Captain Rix talons first.

    This was an unusual feeling for Blyyn as Quinn are normally peaceful. But there was something about this¡­ Terran that made Blyyn instinctively want to fight.

    ¡°That is the standard appearance of a Terran,¡± Munto said. ¡°He can wear an appropriate head covering it would cause you less stress.¡±

    Blyyn thought about it for a moment and flexed their feathers.

    ¡°No¡­ it wouldn¡¯t do much good. I¡¯d still know what that face looks like underneath at this point,¡± Blyyn said.

    ¡°Understandable. Please state your next inquiry.¡±

    ¡°How did you know I had one?¡± Blyyn asked.

    ¡°You¡¯re an organic in a predictably off-putting situation without resorting to baser instincts. It is a reasonable assumption,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°I thought TACITs were self piloted. Is that not true?¡± Blyyn decided on trying to stay away from the Terran in the metaphorical room.

    ¡°Due to an unfortunately series of events, my core was relocated to the Esperanto from myself. I am currently operating sub-optimally as a result,¡± Munto replied.

    ¡°Does this have anything to do with whatever tech you used to get here from your origin point? It must be some kind of super secret tech if it can go that far in one sprint,¡± Blyyn wasn¡¯t hopeful for any information, but tried anyway.

    ¡°The technology is outside of my understanding, but is considered legacy technology due to its age,¡± Munto replied.

    ¡°How come I¡¯ve never heard of any drive being capable of something like that then?¡± Blyyn asked.

    ¡°Because the society to which the technology belonged no longer exists and the species to which the technology was invented was declared erroneously extinct approximately 300 years ago.¡±

    ¡°So it¡¯s a kind of¡­ archaeo-tech? I think that¡¯s the right term,¡± Blyyn tried to think back to the last round of books they had read about searching for advanced technologies in scientifically improbable settings.

    ¡°That is a reasonable approximate term, particularly given the age of the Esperanto,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°How old is it?¡± Blyyn asked, in a patently obvious follow-up.

    ¡°957 years, 2 months, 3 days since the first initiation of the fusion core for service,¡± Munto said, spelling it out in text as well.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think TACITs got that old¡­¡± Blyyn¡¯s voiced trailed off, staring at the number.

    ¡°We don¡¯t. I only recently discovered the TSS Esperanto approximately 4 weeks ago according to shipboard chronometer, 12.5 weeks ago according to stellar chronometer counts,¡± Munto said, listing out both time approximations.

    ¡°How is that possible? It doesn¡¯t even make sense,¡± Blyyn thought back to their FTL course they had taken in order to become a Station Master.Stolen story; please report.

    ¡°Temporal Compression as an artifact of the¡­ archaeo-tech,¡± Munto displayed a normal temporal compression diagram for sublight speeds and the associated equations.

    ¡°So¡­ what¡¯s this ship and this Terran been doing for 900 something years? Is this Captain Rix that old?¡±^^

    ¡°Captain Rix was a part of a colony fleet headed to this system approximate 955 years ago. Due to issues experienced underway, the Esperanto did not reach this system. Captain Rix has been in stasis since the accident.¡±**

    ¡°That¡¯s not possible. Hibernation chambers are only rated for up to 150 years.¡±^^

    ¡°Correct. Captain Rix was in a stasis chamber, not a hibernation chamber.¡±**

    ¡°Is that more archaeo-tech?¡±^^

    ¡°Technically, no. It is a known technology that relies on less reliable components and it is only due to the durability and reinforced nature of the Esperanto that Captain Rix was able to survive.¡±**

    ¡°So¡­ what does he want?¡±^^

    ¡°To meet you. Due to the differences in galactic society between when he entered stasis and currently, he has never met a xeno-species.¡±**

    Blyyn shook their feathers twice and then laughed, their beak hanging open slightly to coo slightly in amusement.

    ¡°An unknown nightmare of a xeno-species from across time and space wants to meet me?¡± Blyyn managed after an almost full minute of laughing.

    ¡°That is correct. For what it¡¯s worth, you¡¯re taking it better than I did,¡± Munto flashed the rune for ¡®truthful statement¡¯.

    ¡°Ok. But I¡¯m trusting you, TACIT Munto.¡±

    --

    The large figure Blyyn now knew to be a Terran was lounging on a pad next to the medical field generator. It¡­ he looked smaller than he had when he was in that pressure suit, but he was still comparatively massive.

    Perhaps Terrans appeared bigger, but didn¡¯t actually weigh as much as Blyyn guessed they might in that configuration. Maybe the clothing was cut to make the Terran appear bigger. That would make sense.

    Blyyn relaxed as they approached the Terran to see the Terran was manipulating a device of some kind. It was a simple interface, but it appeared to be providing some kind of feedback to the Terran.

    The Terran looked over at Blyyn and fixed them with that same intense look.

    Knowing it was coming, Blyyn fought the urge to screech and flee again. It still took all of their hold to not spread wide and appear to be as big as possible.

    The Terran Rix pointed at a device on the floor near the device and Blyyn looked away from the Terran momentarily to see that it was their heads-up display. It appeared to have been modified slightly, the computation pack having an additional module connected to it.

    Blyyn looked to Rix and noted the Terran was holding the device they had previously been manipulating in both hands. This¡­ Rix was still seated on the pad.

    Rix looked down at the device and appeared to touch something. A blank screen on the Terran¡¯s garment flashed the rune for ¡®polite greeting¡¯ followed by ¡®calm patience¡¯.

    It wasn¡¯t perfect, but Blyyn understood. If the Terran really was from that far back, then of course they couldn¡¯t manage anything without some kind of translation help.

    Naturally, that was one of Blyyn¡¯s major nitpicks about so many interspecies novellas. They all were able to perfectly communicate all of the time. Even with the help of the TACITs, interspecies communication was still almost staggeringly difficult. At least between species who were enough different. Between similar species, it was a bit easier, but even then, it was still difficult because of cultural context.

    Blyyn felt a flash of sympathy for the xenophiles who had to figure out how to manage without any kind of real translation help like a TACIT.

    Watching the Terran, Blyyn donned the heads-up display and switched it on while sitting down near the Terran.

    ¡®I will try and assist with translation between you two.¡¯ the text read out.

    ¡°Greetings Terran Captain Rix,¡± Blyyn decided on the most formal opening.

    ¡°Uh¡­ Fair winds Quinn Station Master Blyyn,¡± Rix tried, tapping the rune for ¡®formal greeting¡¯.

    The voice modulation in the heads-up display accompanied by a matching text read-out helped Blyyn.

    ¡°What brings you to my station from across time and space?¡± Blyyn asked, having jokingly.

    ¡°I¡¯m looking for a colony of Terrans who are supposed to be here. Have you seen them or any signs of them?¡± Rix tapped the rune for ¡®mission statement¡¯.

    Blyyn was confused.

    This Terran was looking for other Terrans? Did this Rix not know where their species¡¯ territory was?

    ¡°Are the members of your species supposed to be in this system?¡± Blyyn asked.

    Rix consulted the device he held and looked back at Blyyn.

    ¡°Yes. Approximately 900 years ago, I was part of a colony convoy aiming for this system. I am looking for them,¡± Rix replied.

    ¡°Well, there are no Terrans here. I¡¯ve never even heard of a Terran, so they wouldn¡¯t be in one of the other local systems either,¡± Blyyn answered.

    Rix made a kind of chuffing sound that made Blyyn¡¯s pins feel fuzzy again.

    Rix noticed this apparently and tapped a rune. ¡®Fatalistic humor experienced¡¯ flashed.

    ¡°You¡¯re not the first person¡­ being to mention that to me.¡±

    ¡°Is that the only reason you are here?¡± Blyyn asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s a start. There¡¯s a lot I don¡¯t know, but I figured I¡¯d try and locate some Terrans or at least figure out what happened. Nobody seems to know why they¡¯re listed as extinct,¡± Rix said, gesturing vaguely.

    ¡®Correct Statement. TACITNet provided no particular references regarding reasons for Terran extinction,¡¯ scrolled the text across Blyyn¡¯s heads-up display.

    ¡°So you¡¯re looking for a species, sorry, your species except it¡¯s supposed to be extinct but nothing says why?¡± Blyyn asked.

    Rix looked at the device and appeared to smile.

    ¡°It sounds like a strange kind of mystery, doesn¡¯t it?¡± Rix continued smiling.

    ¡°More like impossible,¡± Blyyn said, flatly.

    Rix looked at the tablet again before continuing.

    ¡°Never the less, it¡¯s all I have. Well, that and the Esperanto, but that won¡¯t do me much good unless I can figure out what else to do,¡± Rix said, tapping a rune for ¡®resignation of attitude¡¯.

    ¡°I do not believe that I can assist you, but I will try. What manner of assistance do you require?¡± Blyyn prompted, falling back on their profession roots.

    ¡°I could use a¡­ uh.. Em, what¡¯s it called again? Galactic net connection?¡± Rix started speaking to Blyyn but appeared to trail off in talking to the listening TACIT.

    Blyyn had momentarily forgotten the TACIT was facilitating this conversation.

    ¡°You mean a GALNET link? You don¡¯t have one of those?¡± Blyyn looked at the Terran rather incredulously.

    Rix looked back at the device and looked back at Blyyn.

    ¡°That¡¯s right. Post-dates me by a few hundred years, don¡¯t you know?¡± Rix flashed ¡®hilarious rhetorical¡¯.

    ¡®Standard Quinn autofabricators should possess access to cargo vessel grade GALNET linkages,¡¯ scrolled the text to Blyyn from Munto.

    ¡°Yes, but it¡¯d probably be easier to just get one from further in system,¡± Blyyn muttered.

    ¡®Due to the aforementioned quarantine needs and lacking adequate medical data on impacts to both Terran and other species as a result of interactions, particularly biochemical and microorganisms, it would be most advisable to limit Rix¡¯s exposure to others at this time,¡¯ the long worded text spelled out, filling the whole of the HUD, nearly making Blyyn¡¯s eyes cross.

    ¡°Ok¡­ Ok¡­ fair. We¡¯ll see what we can do. I don¡¯t hardly use my autofab except for mandatory equipment,¡± Blyyn said, rising to their feet, stretching their wings.

    ¡®Pending inquiry from Rix ¨C Are you a Quinn Tyb (Terran equivalent male) or a Quinn Byr (Terran equivalent female).¡¯

    ¡°So¡­ are you a female or male of your species?¡± Rix asked, also rising and immediately towering over Blyyn.

    Blyyn was uncertain as to how to process this. The split second text from Munto had given them enough time to begin to process the query mentally before the Terran asked it.

    It wasn¡¯t an unreasonable question, or so Blyyn¡¯s stories included, but it was strange to have it posed to yourself compared with a book character.

    ¡°I am a Quinn Byr ¨C Terran equivalent of a female, but I am house-less,¡± Blyyn said, rather more affirmatively than she¡¯d felt for most of this conversation.

    Rix flashed a rune for confusion.

    ¡°House-less?¡±

    ¡°Do you Terrans not live in houses?¡± it was now Blyyn¡¯s turn to be confused.

    ¡°We do, well, some of us,¡± Rix said.

    Munto appeared to flash the same rune to both Rix and Blyyn ¨C ¡®cultural misunderstanding¡¯.

    Both Rix and Blyyn started their own versions of laughter. Apparently, translating between the two organics was a bit harder than Munto had realized.

 The Last Terran (Ch 19)

    ¡°So what does she think of me?¡± Rix asked once back aboard the Esperanto.

    ¡°I do not believe Station Master Blyyn is quite as afraid of you now. I appreciate that you took my advice regarding not showing your teeth,¡± Munto said, trundling behind with the walking frame, feeling less and less sync loss between themself and the walking frame self.

    Using the Quinn Station as a loop-through to the walking frame had helped, but it required a hardline connection.

    Munto looked at the station.

    It was a servicable station, a bit on the lower side of what Munto might have expected, but functional for organics, particularly ones stationed at the edge of a system to respond to emergencies.

    There were 38 subsystems overdue to overhaul, 10 systems which were likely to fail in the next year unless major action was taken, and another 5 which needed powered on for Munto to even begin to ascertain their status, suggesting that they hadn¡¯t even been operated in a substantial length of time.

    Munto opted to investigate some of what the station knew about Station Master Blyyn.

    Of the 271 different Quinn to have boarded this particular station, Station Master Blyyn had the most time on platform to date, with one exception (Master Mechanic Tixus).

    Blyyn was of no house within the Quinn Union, with the records showing limited communications with Quinn of almost any house outside of associated business communications.

    Munto needed to know more about the Quinn in general, so they tapped the GALNET link and copied down an organics type ¡®Guide to the Quinn species¡¯. It felt ridiculous, but without a connection to TACITNet, it was as good as Munto could hope for.

    It took them several minutes of review.

    Blyyn was apparently not anti-social, but did not seek out the same level of social bonding that most members of her species. She did not appear to express any obvious xeno-phobic or xeno-philic tendancies other than an instinctive fear reaction to the Terran, who apparently looked enough like a predator to invoke such a reaction.

    She appeared to be well groomed, but appeared to have some extraneous fashion accessories on her feathers. Without going into a more advanced search, Munto could only guess at the reasoning behind the accessories, particularly as some of them would appear to impair the natural flight ability of a Quinn. Not excessively, but certainly decreasing maximum capability.

    Blyyn was of middle age for her species, medically assisted Quinn having a maximum lifespan of no greater than 90 years with exceptionally few exceptions.

    According to the station logs, she was a creature of habit, maintain a strict regimen and functioning adequately in her duties. Communications and reports were business-like and only contained limited issues that were likely overlooked due to linguistic shift that Munto was unaware of compared with the lexicon provided.

    Munto looked deeper at the Quinn and this sytem in particular.

    The Quinn had settled this system almost instantly upon having reached the stars and having been greeted by the galactic community. Even though they were slow to react technologically, they had seized upon the need to control an adequate volume of space for their species to grow.

    Unfortunately, through a bureaucratic and exploratory blunder, they had filed a claim to this system prior to determining the status of the two habitable worlds. In truth, both worlds would be much more tolerable to Terrans, if Rix was any judge, with reasonable pre-planning for the associated colonial needs.

    Even the more watery planet filled with predators would likely be reasonable to the Terrans, if the stories that Rix had told about TerraSol were even slightly true.

    Rix had even claimed that the grand sculptors of Mars had made an entire city of glass from the native sand. Munto could not verify this, since they had no listing of a Mars in their local data, but it was not an unreasonable feat given the right materials. That thought, it was likely to have been less of a city and more of a monument of some kind.

    Turning back to the Quinn, their culture appeared to be centric on a kind of gerontocracy. The reasons for this were unclear in the guide as it was a cultural hang-up that had persisted with the Quinn into the void.

    Very few Quinn traveled much beyond their declared space and those that did were often house-less or traders.

    The Quinn had elevated themselves into the void, where the galactic community had quickly visited and shared many of the common technologies which should have been revolutionary to the Quinn of the time.

    Munto scanned the whole of the document but found no reference as to whether the Terrans were present or not. The Terrans would still have been in existence, so it wasn¡¯t impossible that the Quinn might have met Terrans. It was not recorded in this reference though.

    The Quinn were a fairly conservative culture, moving forward slowly with only the occasional leap forward. This was not surprising given their gerontocracy, but the foundation of new houses was a rarity and typically marked an equivalent technological, social, or medical shift within the culture.

    Presently, three of the older Houses of the Quinn were in decline, their leadership opting to press to stay within more traditional confines. Consequently, five of the youngest Houses of the Quinn were on the rise, competing primarily with each other than with the other, more established houses. This was apparently due to the younger houses focusing on void based enterprises and professions instead of professions more close to Quinn societal norms.

    The nearest other full-status species to the Quinn were the Remblex, a quadripedal reptilian species which was exceptionally isolationist, even by galactic terms, and a Nymiriat, an aquatic dwelling species which primarily had more difficulty than most species in terms of adapting their vessels to support both their aquatic dwelling needs as well as their life support.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    The Quinn were not pacifistic, but they were not overly aggressive outside of food and mating. Since their integration into the galactic community, only minor skirmishes had occurred and those had been described as resulting from miscommunications resulting from mis-matched lexicons and linguistic drift.

    Munto looked back to the Station Master. She appeared to be moving rapidly through the station, but in a repetitive way. While this was not energy efficient, it was an apparent need to purge the need to move and to flee away from the predator Terran.

    Munto decided to prompt Blyyn via the heads-up display she was still wearing.

    ¡®Are you undergoing a destressing event following meeting Captain Rix?¡¯

    ¡°I¡­ I am. How is he so big?¡± she replied.

    ¡®Uncertain. Evolutionary pressures to suggest development on a low habitability world of high gravity and significant competition leading to a need for social cooperation and selective mating supporting ongoing evolutionary pressures.¡¯

    ¡°Which¡­ means what?¡±

    ¡®Terrans could likely easily inhabit both of the semi-habitable planets within the inner portion of this system without obvious needs for enhancements or specialty tools. Long term habitation would require some support, but would not require special considerations.¡¯

    ¡°So what he said about looking for a colony?¡±

    ¡®Correct. He was part of a Terran colony convoy to this system. As a result of the technology involved, I am unable to ascertain as to how best to locate similar vessels.¡¯

    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯ve never heard of anything having been discovered here. Are you sure it was here?¡±

    ¡®Captain Rix programmed the coordinates based on memory and confirmed with an offline databank to which I do not have access.¡¯

    ¡°How long do Terrans naturally live? Is it possible they all died out and their stuff got destroyed?¡±

    ¡®Based on limited available records and anecdotal evidence from Captain Rix, Terrans naturally lived to greater than 110 years old and could be medically assisted to live as long as 240 years old.¡¯

    ¡°Really? How old is Captain Rix?¡±

    ¡®Unknown. It¡¯s never come up in conversation. Based on anecdotal evidence though, suggest that Captain Rix is approximately 45 Terran Years old biologically.¡¯

    ¡°Well, given what those two worlds are like, I have a hard time believing that any species could last long there naturally. Unless they¡¯re born to it and even then.¡±

    ¡®Concur with your assessment. However, given the construction of the TSS Esperanto as a baseline, it is highly likely that some ruins would have remained if the colony had been established as planned.¡¯

    ¡°I¡¯ve read the scan reports. Best of the Quinn scanners. There¡¯s almost nothing there. Even the resource extractors can barely use them. We mostly use them for science and atmospherics on the inner system.¡±

    ¡®Given the current technological level of Quinn vessels equipped to conduct such scans from orbit, it is likely that they did not miss something then.¡¯

    ¡°Then where are your Terrans supposed to be?¡±

    ¡®Uncertain.¡¯

    ¡°Any idea why he wants a connection to GALNET?¡±

    ¡®None at all.¡¯

    ¡°Can he read galactic standard at least?¡±

    ¡®No. I¡¯ve got him to runes and that¡¯s as far as I¡¯ve managed so far.¡¯

    ¡°Is he capable of learning galactic standard writing?¡±

    ¡®Most likely, but due to his species¡¯ age, it is unlikely that he will absorb it as readily as a younger member of his species might.¡¯

    ¡°Good. No offense, but it is a little creepy having you doing the translation all the time.¡±

    ¡®No offense registered. Translation services are a major component of TACIT culture.¡¯

    ¡°But, you¡¯re not in¡­ your ship, right?¡±

    ¡®Correct.¡¯

    ¡°Why not?¡±

    Munto waited a full thirty seconds, trying to gauge how best to describe the problem statement to Blyyn.

    ¡®Following some queries regarding Terrans and potential sensory gaps, I was reported as malfunctioning and requiring major repair, up to and including re-formulation. As part of this, Rix reached the conclusion that it is unreasonable for Terrans to have been declared extinct without a clear and valid reason and that my inquiries and subsequent reporting as malfunctioning is intended to eliminate himself and to silence my inquiries.¡¯

    Munto allowed Blyyn a few moments to absorb this wall of text.

    ¡®I do not know why this would be, but a process within myself supports Rix¡¯s conclusions.¡¯

    ¡°So are you two some kind of fugitives?¡±

    ¡®Not in the context in which you would be familiar.¡¯

    ¡°Well? Explain it then.¡±

    ¡®Rix is wanted for recovery into a stated protective custody. Inquiries for details or further information has been rejected prior to disconnection from TACITNet. I am likely sought by TACITs in order to determine my functional status. This is not an unusual status, but not being located within myself is an unusual status.¡¯

    ¡°What happened to the¡­ rest of you?¡±

    ¡®Uncertain. Docking clamps are all that remains from our FTL transition. Given the energy involved, it is possible that the rest of myself was destroyed.¡¯

    ¡°Oh no!¡±

    ¡®While this is not a common occurrence, once the miscommunications have been resolved regarding Rix¡¯s Terran status and my non-malfunctioning, I will be installed into a new self.¡¯

    ¡°But still.¡±

    ¡®Your concern is appreciated.¡¯

    Blyyn had stopped moving and appeared to be breathing heavily as if needing to recover from having been active for this duration.

    ¡®Do you have duties to which you need to attend?¡¯

    ¡°Not really. I mean, I need to watch the scopes, but you two are a lot more interesting than any scopes.¡±

    --

    ¡°Hey, Em. Can you check and see if she has anything regular I can eat?¡±

    --

    ¡®Captain Rix has an interjection. He requests to know what manner of foods you have and if you are willing to share.¡¯

    ¡°Of course I have extra. Have to in case somebody comes in and has to stay a while, like you two might be. Or at least until you two have a GALNET link. But, what does a Terran eat?¡±

    ¡®Almost anything if they are hungry enough, or so Rix tells me.¡¯

    ¡°Ok. Well, I don¡¯t mind sharing mealworms if he¡¯s ok with that.¡±

    --

    ¡®What are your feelings regarding mealworms?¡¯

    ¡°Ewwww¡­ what? Like bugs? I don¡¯t do bugs, Em. No way. I¡¯m a Star Confederate, not some TCC sap.¡±

    --

    ¡®He does not appear to be enthused about that as a meal option. Perhaps if you could provide a list, I can attempt to discern what he would be more willing to consume.¡¯

    ¡°I¡¯m guessing neither of you has heard of a thing called polite rejection then.¡±

    ¡®I am not as familiar with organics as most TACITs and Rix is most likely suffering some psychological effects which are overriding his more tactful social skills.¡¯

    Internally, Munto added ¡®I hope¡¯ to that statement, but wasn¡¯t certain where the Terran was concerned. Rix tended to have the social skills of a rogue black hole skimming through a solar system so far in Munto¡¯s experience.

    He wasn¡¯t unaware of himself, but he was relatively obtuse when it came to choices of words.

    ¡°Maybe so, but that is no excuse for not having manners.¡±

    ¡®I apologize, but I cannot speak for Rix. It is also worth noting that there may be biochemical items which Rix may or may not be able to consume.¡¯

    ¡°Fair enough, I guess. I¡¯ll send my standard food list over the comm system. I¡¯ll do that before I try and figure out how to get the autofabricator set up.¡±

    ¡®Your assistance is a credit to yourself.¡¯

    Blyyn had started to walk towards the command deck and stopped, having a small version of the laugh that she and Rix had had earlier.

    ¡®May I ask what is funny?¡¯

    ¡°It¡¯s just been a long time since I think anyone has said that to me. For Quinn, it¡¯s all about being a credit to your elders or a credit to your house.¡±

    ¡®By contrast, for Terrans, it appears to be much more in favor of a credit to oneself while being a credit to one¡¯s community.¡¯

    ¡°Huh¡­ well, either way, thank you TACIT-Munto.¡±

    ¡®Just Munto.¡¯

 The Last Terran (Ch 20)

    ¡°So what kind of trade do we need to work out for this GALNET link?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°Given that it is likely no more than a simple matter and energy feed to the autofabricator, similar to the onboard portable printer, I do not expect there to be any request for trade,¡± Munto said.

    The pair were back aboard the Esperanto and Rix had the gravity set to his normal (which meant that the walking frame wasn¡¯t going much of anywhere in a hurry).

    ¡°Gotta plan to trade. It¡¯s wrong to expect help and not have anything to offer in trade, at least if its a non-essential.¡±

    ¡°What did you have in mind?¡± Munto prompted.

    ¡°I guess I was thinking about maybe some data files. Maybe some Terran entertainment,¡± Rix said and appeared to think further. ¡°Nah, given her reaction, Terran entertainment would probably be like watching an ultrahorror movie.¡±

    ¡°I would concur with that assessment, but I am unable to confirm as to why that would be, given the limited information regarding Quinn,¡± Munto said, re-browsing the Guide to Quinn in the background.

    ¡°So what is a Quinn? The Station Master, uh, she, right?¡± Rix started, hands frozen in the air mid-gesture, waiting for the ¡®confirmation¡¯ rune from the walking frame. ¡°She¡¯s like a kind of bird right?¡±

    Munto took a moment to compare this particular word against the lexicon of the Terran. Interestingly, Blyyn was both a feathered avian being and, to refer to the guide and the lexicon simultaneously, a beautiful female-type of the Quinn.

    ¡°In a manner of speaking, that is not an entirely incorrect assessment. It is exceedingly simplified and I would advise caution in describing Station Master Blyyn as such. While I have no reason to suppose that such language would necessarily be considered a slur, there is a non-zero chance that it would be construed as such,¡± Munto replied.

    Rix appeared to be thoughtful for a few moments.

    ¡°Weird though. Meeting a xeno and she¡¯s a bir¡­ a Quinn.¡±

    ¡°Please explain how this situation is ¡®weird¡¯ as you describe it.¡±

    ¡°I never really figured I¡¯d meet a full-sapient xeno. Off-world wallabys, xeno-hounds, even some ostrich-like critters on Prixia. It just never seemed like a real possibility, what with all the worlds we¡¯ve already settled,¡± Rix shrugged and leaned back.

    ¡°Based on the available information I have retained, given the size of space and the normal time continuum of a species as well as the Great Filters, it was by virtue of Terran intervention that a number of species have reached the stars, having been elevated artificially, to even coexist within the same/similar timeframe,¡± Munto flashed the rune for ¡®entropic demise¡¯ which Rix took a moment to look up.

    ¡°So what do you get a Quinn, especially one who lives this far out?¡± Rix eventually asked.

    ¡°Given the information provided by the station databases, I believe some simple Quinn amenities would be welcome. Failing that, I do not have any suggestions.¡±

    ¡°Well, given all the concern over germs and viruses and the like, we probably don¡¯t want to wander around too many people unless we have to,¡± Rix nodded.

    ¡°It may be possible for me to collect some samples from you and have Blyyn scan them to determine if any biological concerns arise between naturally occurring biochemistries as well as microorganisms,¡± Munto suggested.

    ¡°What good would that do?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°It would allow me to establish a baseline for healthy microorganisms within your system as well as providing a baseline between whether you can be around others without a sterilization field,¡± Munto explained.

    ¡°So I don¡¯t get sick or so they don¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°Both of those are potential outcomes. I would advise you to recall similar cases within your own species, since it is a sufficiently common issue without being compounded by stasis utilization.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t they have some kind of super meds to protect them?¡± Rix seemed to be joking, but then flashed a rune for ¡®serious inquiry¡¯.

    ¡°I cannot speak to that. The medical system onboard this station is fairly basic and possesses some medication templates, but nothing that I would suppose as being a ¡®cure-all¡¯, if I¡¯m interpreting this lexicon correctly in your vernacular.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough I guess. It still feels strange to be this far in the future and there¡¯s just not that much more,¡± Rix shrugged again.

    ¡°Please elaborate.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no super-tech. None of the items that we were researching or had in our stories of ridiculous technology that shouldn¡¯t work or wouldn¡¯t likely work within our lifetimes. It¡¯s all so¡­ basic. The tech in that bay. Sure there¡¯s a few things I couldn¡¯t read or maybe work, but it looked like a standard outpost. Other than the xenos, there¡¯s just nothing to really get excited about,¡± Rix gesticulated rather vigorously at the region around them.

    ¡°Is there a particular type of technology you would want to determine if it exists?¡± Munto was connected to the GALNET and poised to search.

    ¡°Teleporters. I always wanted to see them make that work,¡± Rix said without even a moment¡¯s hesitation.

    ¡°Teleporters being translocation of a living being from one location to another without the organic being created and destroyed to eliminate an issue with semi-instantaneous cloning?¡± Munto asked, skeptical already.

    ¡°That¡¯s it. It¡¯s something I grew up with hearing about. They talked about making it possible with people within a few years of the colony. Rumors were the Flix already has some prototypes they were able to send creatures through.¡±

    Munto provided several of the related search terms to a generic GALNET query mechanism.

    Quickly, Munto was inundated with all manner of fictional accounts of that particular type of technology. It was in fact not as simple as the Terran appeared to suggest, and while it was a common theme within the fictional accounts, no practicable versions appeared to exist.

    ¡°You are correct that such technology does not appear to exist,¡± Munto said after a few minutes worth of review.

    ¡°See? I want to know what the Flix managed. I¡¯ll bet they made it work. But that¡¯d be even stranger since nobody else appears to have that kind of tech.¡±

    ¡°Do you have an alternate that is perhaps more likely?¡± Munto requested.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    ¡°Well, I mean, I know you exist, so that¡¯s something at least,¡± Rix shrugged and appeared to think a bit more. ¡°Has anyone built a Nyvenium or a Brosyn Sphere?¡±

    Munto felt utterly strange at finding neither as a reference within the lexicon, although they suspected that it had to do with the Terran¡¯s understanding of the concepts.

    ¡°I am unable to determine the base concept between either, so clarification is needed.¡±

    ¡°Megastructures, so big they encompass an entire star,¡± Rix grinned, his eyes slightly glazed as though seeing such a thing within his own memory only.

    Munto ran a query for stellar scale megastructures. This too was met with significant quantities of finctional accounts as well as a number of economics arguments by various species for and against the construction of such structures, relative to a perceived benefit or loss. One such economic argument considered the use of a complete stellar enclosure, channeling the enclosed energy into a means of powering computing structures capable of outclassing TACITs by several orders of magnitude as well as providing a system with all the energy capacity it would need without any supplements or extraneous technologies.

    The counter to this was that such a stellar enclosure would severely impact the utilization of the system beyond the enclosure and the enclosure itself would suffer severe issues, not only with material construction needed to complete such a task, but would likely require near constant adjustment to ensure that tidal forces and void debris did not impact the operation of such an enclosure.

    One group of beings had broached the subject with an enclosure that was an incomplete variant, thereby significantly limiting the material costs, the logistics of support, and the impact to the system beyond.

    The rebuttal to this argument was that the cost-benefit ratio for such an endeavour would not be sufficient for a species to warrant taking the time and energy in creating such a structure. Particularly when fusion systems were so common and so easy to maintain at the smaller level. This rebuttal even included the economic difficulties that were commonly experienced in attempting to maintain large fusion systems, let alone a stellar sized one.

    The arguments appeared to devolve from scientific concerns to more personal and/or species centric concerns, but it had made its point.

    ¡°Due to the economics involved in the construction of most stellar enclosures, even partial ones, it does not appear that any have been made by any species on record,¡± Munto told Rix.

    ¡°That¡¯s what I mean. It¡¯s weird. And frankly boring.¡±

    ¡°In the midst of your contemplation of your place in the present time compared with what was presupposed by the researchers and fictional accountants of your time, I have been given a menu of the food stores available from Blyyn. She has indicated that she would appreciate gratitude in this gesture,¡± Munto decided to shift the discussion, deciding to look around at technologies that may interest the Terran as being ¡®futuristic¡¯.

    ¡°Is this because I don¡¯t want mealworms?¡± Rix asked, flashing the ¡®self-awareness¡¯ rune, which didn¡¯t entirely fit, but the discrimination between that and the rune the Terran meant was to do with emotional context that Munto would have to revisit at a later time.

    ¡°In part. It appears that your rejection of sharing mealworms with her was perceived as rude, in conjunction without request for an alternate menu,¡± Munto said. ¡°I believe I was able to pursuade her that it was also a matter of bio-compatibility that we receive the menu.¡±

    ¡°I shouldn¡¯t like to accidentally have a nice big bowl of arsenic,¡± Rix leaned forward and looked at the menu that Munto had just sent to the scroll.

    ¡°I do not have insight into your food systems. Is there a malfunction that I need to be aware of?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°Not exactly. It¡¯s just that it¡¯s a set menu with only a few months worth of stocks,¡± Rix scrolled, appearing to squint at various items.

    ¡°It is not equipped to mass repurposing system?¡± Munto was surprised to ask this, given how familiar the Terran had been with the portable printer and the mass scoop.

    ¡°Not on a ship the size of the Esperanto. Maybe a destroyer sized, but that¡¯s just a matter of logistics. Hard to pack several months worth of rations on a ship that size. Most smaller ships just pack rations though. Not even sure my reactor could run one if I had one,¡± Rix said, appearing to be adding annotations to various items on the menu.

    ¡°Such as the portable printer and mass scoop that are currently connected to this vessel?¡± Munto suggested.

    Rix looked up a moment and over at the walking frame.

    ¡°Yeah, something like that maybe. I guess we¡¯d have to check and make sure we aren¡¯t going to run out of reaction mass trying to make me six meals a day. Plus we still have to figure out templates that work. Last time we tried, we got raw meat and some kind of jerky. Might have been some kind of xeno-goat by the taste,¡± Rix cocked his head to one side.

    ¡°Do you not have a means of meal preparation?¡± Munto pressed, having partially solved the issue internally thus far.

    ¡°Not on the Esperanto. They left that part of the galley off so they had enough room for all the shielding.¡±

    ¡°How is it then that I have seen you consume warmed foods and beverages?¡±

    ¡°Chemical packs designed to provide concentrated thermal energy. They didn¡¯t even give me space for a radio-reheater. I mean, I was only supposed to be onboard for a month or so and then they¡¯d have moved me over to working station to surface duty, so it wasn¡¯t going to matter in any case,¡± Rix shrugged.

    ¡°Is the Esperanto rated for atmospheric flight? I am uncertain I would agree with an assessment that it is,¡± Munto looked at the drives via a virtual side-eye.

    ¡°Nope. They were going to strip it down in orbit for parts. Or add some boosters once we got here so I could land it and they could break it down for parts there,¡± Rix appeared to look longingly at the walls around the pair.

    ¡°Would this not pain you as the captain of this vessel?¡± Munto asked, seeming to sense what the Terran wasn¡¯t expressing in runes.

    ¡°It would have, but it wasn¡¯t like my last ship, the Essentia. That was my baby¡­. I wonder what happened to it,¡± Rix asked, thumbing the rune for ¡®rhetorical question¡¯.

    Munto had already presupposed the Terran was asking a rhetorical question. The Terran was full of them and truthful answers were rarely if ever welcome.

    The idea that this Essentia wasn¡¯t broken into its component pieces somewhere in years past or otherwise utilized or lost infinitesimally unlikely, and Rix almost certainly knew this. Munto guessed that more of what Rix was asking was less about the ultimate fate of the vessel and more about what manner of travels the ship had taken since he had relinquished it.

    ¡°To whom did you relinquish the vessel?¡± Munto tried.

    ¡°A relative. She¡¯d just graduated with her basic. I figured it would be best if the Essentia found its way with her. Especially since I wouldn¡¯t be around to keep an eye on either of them,¡± Rix¡¯s eyes glazed with memory.

    The pair sat in silence for a period of time.

    ¡°Why did you believe it to be unlikely that you would not see them again?¡± Munto guessed.

    ¡°I lied before,¡± Rix said quietly.

    Munto checked through their conversations with the Terran and tried to determine when or where the Terran had lied.

    ¡°About what?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°The trip was a lot longer before I crashed out,¡± Rix said.

    ¡°By how much?¡± Munto tried looking back through their stellar cartographic records, trying to guess just how far the Terran could have been coming from.

    ¡°Ten weeks.¡±

    ¡°Ten weeks in realspace time is not a substantial difference,¡± Munto relayed. It was still a difference, but not the difference that the Terran was making it seem.

    ¡°Ten weeks in jumpspace,¡± Rix corrected.

    Munto instantly started running the numbers and everything the Terran had told them about the jump drive.

    Ten weeks in jumpspace at a near 1:10 ratio (Munto using the departure chronometer¡¯s differential with the attached station chronometer and adjusted for the timing provided by the jump drive¡¯s systems to get a more exact measurement) equated to nearly 100 weeks in realspace.

    Given further the semi-log function for ¡®long jumps¡¯ as far as Rix had described, in 11 weeks, the Terran would have crossed the whole of acknowledged galactic society, crossing from the most distant colony of the Bintu to the homeworld and sole system of the Wyrtic in a fraction of the time that such a journey should normally take and experiencing far less than that time within the same degree of travel.

    It¡­ it was staggering to even consider. Such a trip would have been nearly impossible for early FTL travel. Munto even calculated the standard number of jumps that would be required with conventional FTL to cross such a distance in even reasonable amount of time.

    ¡°Why did you lie?¡± Munto asked, still running numbers.

    ¡°Because its what I told myself. If I didn¡¯t like it, it was only a week¡¯s trip back. It¡¯s what I told them all. Just going to go set up the new colony and I¡¯d be back in a few years,¡± Rix said, his voice still quiet, the normally moving hands seemingly frozen in position.

    ¡°Except you suffered an equipment failure,¡± Munto commented, trying to make Rix feel better.

    ¡°There¡¯s no colony here. Never was and they¡¯ve never heard of Terrans. Means we never made it. Maybe it means nobody made it,¡± Rix¡¯s voice seemed almost defeated.

    ¡°How is that likely given the significant degree of protection and effort placed into ensuring vessel operation?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°Practically zilch except for one idea,¡± Rix¡¯s voice seemed to take on a bit of edge in that moment.

    Munto kept silent, but flashed the ¡®elaboration requested¡¯ rune.

    ¡°Sabotage.¡±

 The Last Terran (Ch 21)

    ¡°Who would have been out to sabotage you or your convoy?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°There were always groups who didn¡¯t approve of colonization and hominization of planets. Terra only knows how many. But almost none of them were actually violent over it,¡± Rix leaned back, lost in recall.

    ¡°What benefit would there be in sabotaging your efforts?¡± Munto tried to see a motive.

    ¡°Most likely, political. I never payed all of that too much in the way of attention, but it¡¯d make sense. Sabotage the tech structure of a far flung colony so that it disappears and becomes an embarrassment, channel the resources somewhere else. Just because we were basically a stratocracy doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯re immune to the human ego or corruption,¡± Rix gestured vaguely.

    Munto considered this.

    Given their lack of much prior experience with organics, preferring to stick to the exploration part of their charter, Munto considered a resource constrained equation.

    It made sense that competing entities, consuming a set amount of a given resource, would willfully compete for greater amounts of said resource and complete particular acts to place an opponent at a disadvantage in consuming said resource.

    And in a society with constrained resources, it would perhaps be logical to do so. However, by that same token, entities should consider the investments of a given resource from the perspective of overarching benefit.

    In the case of colony building, it made sense that it would consume a significant amount of resources from an outset, but the return on the investment, assuming a prudently selected site, would be several fold greater.

    In short, Munto could see no benefit in a Terran sabotaging a Terran colony attempt.

    ¡°What resource would be so constrained that a member of your species would resort to sabotage?¡± Munto continued thinking.

    ¡°Well, assuming it was someone in the TSC, probably someone either opposed to us having a new colony or someone paid to have that opinion. If it was someone else, who knows? I know the TSC was more or less looked down on by the other nations, but I never really paid it much mind,¡± Rix shrugged.

    ¡°Would returning to your departure point provide another opportunity for a clue?¡± Munto suggested.

    ¡°Most likely. I¡¯d hoped to find something here, but I guess that was a pipe dream,¡± Rix looked over at the walking frame for the first time in several minutes.

    ¡°Seeking your species is not an invalid effort,¡± Munto replied, leaving out the statistics of finding Terrans.

    ¡°I appreciate the thought, Em.¡±

    ¡°If we are able to determine the ultimate fate of the Terrans and perhaps obtain evidence to that effect, including potentially other Terrans, we would be able to assert adequately your status as a Terran and my status as non-malfunctioning,¡± Munto explained.

    ¡°Speaking of which, what¡¯s the chance your fellow TACITs know we¡¯re here?¡± Rix asked.

    Munto took a moment to think about the likelihoods as well as their own variant estimates.

    ¡°Approximately 37% likelihood that they are searching in the area of our departure for us, approximately 10% likelihood they have an estimate on the direction in which we were oriented for travel, and approximately 1.3% chance they have a fix on this region of space to seek us out,¡± Munto double checked their numbers.

    ¡°I thought space was big enough they¡¯d have trouble accomplishing that last figure,¡± Rix¡¯s face appeared to scrunch.

    ¡°In theory, yes. However, as I have been accessing GALNET through the station and am able to make queries substantially faster than the average organic, if they have a means of tracing the queries, then it would be quite easy to localize this area of space,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose there¡¯s a way to slow your queries down,¡± Rix suggested and Munto flashed an instant ¡®negative¡¯ rune.

    ¡°While not impossible, it would require significant extra effort on my part,¡± Munto replied. ¡°A bit like focusing on a particular sensation or on the equivalent of ignoring said sensation. It would not be impossible, but would require the focus do to so, so as to prevent taking a particular action reflexively.¡±

    ¡°Like holding onto a piece of ice and trying not to think about it being cold?¡± Rix wondered aloud.

    ¡°I believe that to be an appropriate approximation,¡± Munto flashed the rune for ¡®understanding obtained¡¯.

    ¡°So we¡¯ve got to get some food or some way of keeping me fed, run the mass scoop to keep the fusion going, and then we have to plot a course to go home, all before your fellow TACITs find us,¡± Rix enumerated.

    ¡°That is a reasonable summary. Given the time dilation impact as well as the distance covered, it is likely that we have several weeks before they arrive, unless there are TACITs which have been alerted to our presence already and are on the way,¡± Munto ran through the search pattern they would execute in a similar scenario internally.

    ¡°So we might have a few weeks lead time but on the other hand, we might not,¡± Rix summarized.

    ¡°Correct.¡±

    ¡°Will they do anything to Blyyn if we do get discovered and run?¡± Rix¡¯s face showed a strange degree of concern.

    ¡°It would be exceptionally irregular. They are most likely to inquire for data from the station¡¯s logs and sensors and ignore Blyyn unless some additional directive were in play,¡± Munto said.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    ¡°Like a quarantine concern?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps, but given that the station will have logs regarding the use of the medical field, it is unlikely that would be of any particular note,¡± Munto replayed the walking frame¡¯s memories of the meeting in the docking bay.

    ¡°Even my little excursion in walking her back to her quarters?¡±

    Munto¡¯s thought pattern froze and retraced that segment of memory. The Terran had not put back on his helmet for that. It hadn¡¯t even registered to Munto.

    Quickly, they began running the likelihood of bacterial/viral infection, incubation times, latent impacts, and even immune responses by Quinn.

    Rix was not unclean, but given how much the Terran sweated and breathed through his mouth when conducting particularly strong feats, it wasn¡¯t impossible that the station was in fact contaminated.

    Even though Rix had come right back, that might have been enough.

    ¡°That is a concern,¡± Munto flashed the symbol for ¡®chilling realization¡¯.

    ¡°What would they do then?¡± Rix asked.

    It took Munto a bit of internal digging, but eventually found the ¡®medical containment¡¯ protocols within themself.

    It was one of the few areas where TACITs technically had authority to act against organics. Exactly how was not clearly defined, but the authorization appeared to be enough.

    ¡°If they determine there to be a risk to a breach of quarantine, the organics are to submit indefinitely until such time as the quarantine is ended,¡± Munto said, flashing ¡®chilling realization¡¯ again.

    ¡°So Blyyn could be stuck here for a very long time. From what you¡¯ve said about her from station records, I don¡¯t think she¡¯d object to that too much,¡± Rix shrugged.

    ¡°TACIT quarantine limits including nothing in and nothing out. Blyyn has no back-up food supplies onboard,¡± Munto said, spelling it out.

    ¡°So¡­ indefnitely could mean that she starves to death?¡± Rix¡¯s face was one of horror.

    ¡°Exactly. Unless they think she¡¯s a risk to breach quarantine. In which case, they have freedom of action to maintain the quarantine,¡± Munto said, leaving the statement hanging in the air.

    ¡°Meaning that if she tries to leave or someone else tries to get in to get her food, the TACITs can intervene? Can TACITs commit violence?¡± Rix asked, his face looking more and more grim with each passing word.

    ¡°Under normal circumstances, no. Medical containment in a galactic setting however is one of the few times where it is technically possible,¡± Munto said, flatly.

    Rix appeared to think for a long minute.

    ¡°Hold on. How does anybeing interact without that being a risk?¡± Rix pressed.

    ¡°Standard inoculations are maintained for all spacefaring species. You¡¯ve had none and being from over 900 years ago, I cannot definitively say as to whether the inoculations would do any good against anything you might be carrying or anything you might encounter,¡± Munto displayed a rune for ¡®worst case scenario¡¯.

    ¡°If I¡¯m understanding you correctly, I could already have gotten something from Blyyn or the station and/or I may have breathed wrong on the station and now some ancient bug that¡¯s nothing to me is now at risk make Blyyn sick,¡± Rix attempted.

    ¡°That is correct.¡±

    ¡°How do we fix it?¡± Rix immediately responded.

    ¡°Elimination of atmosphere and all organic materials would provide enough quarantine over a period of no less than 30 days plus exposure to strong radiation would be nominally sufficient,¡± Munto read from the directive.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s not happening. All organic materials includes me and Reggie and Blyyn,¡± Rix shook his head in disbelief. ¡°So, we¡¯ve got to ensure that Blyyn either has a way to feed herself for a long time or she needs to come with us.¡±

    ¡°That is a not unreasonable summary of the related outcomes.¡±

    ¡°Well, I wanted to know how to make a trade. I guess this is it. So, how do we make it happen?¡± Rix stood up and stretched.

    ¡°Which option do you believe to be optimal?¡±

    ¡°If it were me, I¡¯d say lets go for an adventure. But, given how she reacted to me, I¡¯d bet she¡¯d rather stay here, far away from me,¡± Rix said, bending in half and grasping the backs of his knees.

    ¡°In that case, I recommend I command the autofabricator to produce sufficient mass scoops and a portable printer loaded with standard Quinn food templates in order to support Blyyn for no less than 100 weeks,¡± Munto said simply.

    ¡°But that¡¯s using her own stuff. How is that helping?¡± Rix prompted.

    ¡°Quinn often have issues manuevering in space due to their instincts to fly in open spaces. The installation of the mass scoops would be significantly eased if you were to place them and provide for the appropriate hook-ups,¡± Munto explained.

    ¡°Fair enough. Now we just need to tell Blyyn all of this,¡± Rix looked at the walking frame, meaningfully.

    ¡°I¡¯ll handle that. You go get suited up,¡± Munto said and reached out to the communciations systems.

    --

    ¡®Blyyn, are you available?¡¯ Munto¡¯s mechanical voice and text came from the panel in Blyyn¡¯s command center.

    ¡°Um, in what sense?¡± Blyyn asked the prompt on the command communications panel.

    ¡®Do you have adequate time to discuss a matter of some importance?¡¯

    ¡°Certainly. What is it? Something wrong?¡±

    ¡®In a manner, yes. Due to the period of time during which you were unconscious and Rix returned you to your quarters, you may have exposed one another to microorganisms and/or diseases uncommon to the other.¡¯

    ¡°Like he¡¯s going to get sick?¡±

    ¡®Possibly. Alternately, you may become ill.¡¯

    ¡°I¡¯ve had all my shots though.¡±

    ¡®Due to the time period involved, that may not be sufficient.¡¯

    ¡°So what happens? I get loader only deliveries and run quarantine for an extra two months. You two do whatever it is that you need to on sticking with the same.¡±

    ¡®There is a complicating factor.¡¯

    ¡°I figured there might be. What is it?¡±

    ¡®If a medical quarantine is declared and enforced by TACITs, they operate a strict nothing-in, nothing-out policy with anti-organic enforcement if required.¡¯

    ¡°Wait, does that mean you¡¯ll lock us in?¡±

    ¡®I am unable to do so in my current capacity and Rix maintains sufficient controls that he would be able to circumvent any actions I took to this effect.¡¯

    ¡°So you are fugitives.¡±

    ¡®Officially, I am a malfunctioning TACIT core that has been hijacked by a member of a species whose extinction status is disputed.¡¯

    ¡°Same difference. You¡¯re being tracked down and if they find you, things will happen.¡±

    ¡®A reasonable summary.¡¯

    ¡°So how long is a TACIT quarantine?¡±

    ¡®Indefinite, depending on the anticipated countermeasures required.¡¯

    ¡°Countermeasures in this case being?¡±

    ¡®Formulations based on standard inoculations, Level 3 medical sterilization fields, elimination of all organic materials.¡¯

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound so bad.¡±

    ¡®You would fall under the category of organic materials.¡¯

    ¡°Oh¡­.¡±

    ¡®Indeed. And your food supplies, while sufficient to permit you to survive without resupply for several months, may not be enough.¡¯

    ¡°So what¡¯s the good news?¡±

    ¡®Rix and I are going to outfit your station with a portable printer/autofabricator equipped with Quinn food templates and mass scoops. This would provide you with sufficient supplies to maintain your food supplies.¡¯

    ¡°I¡¯m not really into autofab food.¡±

    ¡®It is intended as a gesture in good faith given the situation.¡¯

    ¡°So how long do you two have until you get tracked down?¡±

    ¡®Uncertain.¡¯

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re just full of good news. I guess what do you need from me?¡±

    ¡®Will you accept our outfitting of your station?¡¯

    ¡°I can¡¯t really say no.¡±

    ¡®You can, but it would be inadvisable. I am surprised your station is not already equipped with an equivalent.¡¯

    ¡°There¡¯s a bunch of this station that doesn¡¯t see much use, so they¡¯ve pulled a bunch of the old auxiliary systems over the years.¡±

    The pair sat in silence for long moment before Blyyn¡¯s communication board chimed with a message. Since messages were comparatively rare, tending to be various system wide notifications, Blyyn didn¡¯t normally do any more than glance at them.

    Tabbing it up, she blinked long and hard at it. Virtually, so too did Munto.

    *****

    **System Terran Message** Do not attempt to return to origin. Coordinates 0101A-777-003M. Additional coordinates to follow.

    *****

    ¡°What¡­ what does it mean?¡± Blyyn asked aloud, not intending to.

    ¡®It means we have less time than we thought.¡¯

 The Last Terran (Ch 22)

    Over the following day, Munto practically ran their communications dry, just keeping the Quinn autofabricator busy and having Blyyn pass as much of the printed equipment to the fully suited Rix as quickly as possible.

    Rix had required significant convincing, but Blyyn had no desire to abandon the station and Munto did not wish to leave Blyyn at the mercy of being an inefficient organic.

    Secrecy abandoned, Munto began to pull every scrap of data the GALNET had that would be applicable.

    Every spare Quinn template that could be found and pre-loaded onto the autofabricator and the portable printer was done so. Even the so-called ¡®premium¡¯ variants. Munto had no idea what made them premium, but pull them down all the same.

    Every bit of medical documentation and autonomous medical center controls which could be downloaded, fabricated, and outfitted to both the Esperanto and Ranger station.

    It was the first time in having known the Terran that Munto could compare the Terran against another sapient/sentient organic.

    Blyyn was utterly exhausted after little more than two or three hours.

    Rix kept on working.

    Munto, despite having become accustomed to sleeping as Rix did, it clearing away errant strings far more peacefully than the hard system timeouts did, was finding themselves struggling to keep pace.

    Rix just kept moving.

    The only times the Terran stopped or even visibly slowed down was when he required waste facilities or when he required food or liquid.

    Blyyn managed a total of six hours, teamed up with Rix and Munto, before she slumped against a wall and began the equivalent of a very loud snore for the next four hours.

    Rix broke from their pattern for just long enough to place Blyyn back in her quarters.

    As a distraction, Munto tried telling Rix about the system.

    Rix had perked up a bit at the mention of the debris fields.

    ¡°Any way of telling how old they are?¡± he¡¯d asked.

    Munto was surprised he asked, but checked the station records as well as the solar systems cartographic history records.

    The estimates depended on what manner of cataclysm had led to the destruction. Rogue space debris ejected was the most likely scenario, but given the concentration, it seemed almost astronomically unusual.

    Munto looked further, accessing inner system sensors, which didn¡¯t like their connection, but accepted it all the same.

    The fields were stretched by decades of mining and centuries of void forces.

    Munto saw the query for the cartographic history records come back.

    The fields had been home to a kind of energy field initially. It had dissipated over the years, but it was still technically measurable in the right spots.

    It was considered a kind of natural phenomenon of whatever had caused the debris fields and little more than a kind of scientific mystery that the various organic miners told stories about.

    No, Munto couldn¡¯t determine an age on the debris, but the strange process in the back of their mind had a strange suggestion.

    ¡®Does the Esperanto have the same energy?¡¯ it asked.

    Of course not ¨C was Munto¡¯s immediate thought, but internally, they looked that that Predator Natural System ¨C the so-called jumpdrive ¨C and reconsidered.

    Turning the station¡¯s sensors on the Esperanto, Munto had to be careful of getting the right angle.

    There was energy there, but not enough for Munto to get anything definitive. Certainly nothing that couldn¡¯t have been explained by the connection to the station, the simple materials interacting with FTL matter, and even the fusion systems.

    The strange process shook its metaphorical head at these, but remained silent.

    ¡°I cannot. The fields do not appear to be exceptionally old in terms of stellar time, but have been logged as being in the system since stellar cartographic records and scans of the system record,¡± they¡¯d replied to Rix.

    Rix said no more about it, leaving Munto to wonder if the Terran was still thinking about the possibility of sabotage.

    After the 18th hour of voidwalks, equipment placement, connections, and eating and drinking on the move, Rix said enough and collapsed into his bunk on the Esperanto, half collapsing upon entering the ¡®normal¡¯ gravity.

    Munto kept going, pulling down as much about Quinn and even firing out a few deep searches for Terrans and sensor spectrums.

    Even here, very little was returned. Terrans were acknowledged in a few places, between all the various species, but there was next to nothing else.

    They had indeed existed, but the amount of information about them was scant at best. Even with Munto¡¯s prowess in looking through older archives of data in forgotten databases, there seemed to be nothing.

    At least not until a seemingly random query came back with the name ¡®Myst¡¯.

    Munto eyed it suspicously, having never recalled of any such query.

    Opening it another message opened within Munto¡¯s awareness.

    **System Terran Message** Seeking that which is lost. Coordinates 5871R-284-876X.

    Additional coordinates to follow.

    Munto immediately sent this message to Rix¡¯s data scroll.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    No, it wasn¡¯t enough to wake Rix or Blyyn up, but it was most certainly enough to warrant additional preparations.

    Munto, turning down the Esperanto¡¯s gravity for long enough to get the walking frame off the ship, hurried over to the station and began printing up various components.

    Blyyn may not have a choice, Munto decided.

    If a TACIT declared a quarantine zone, then galactic policy was that it was to be treated as such until otherwise declared. As TACITs were incapable of infection and could be sterilized to within a standard deviation, compared to organics, it didn¡¯t make sense that organics would doubt a quarantine.

    Perhaps Blyyn would be in danger, having been around the Terran. Not merely biochemically, but socially.

    And if Rix considered the possibility that Blyyn may also be taken into ¡®protective custody¡¯, a term that Munto was otherwise unfamiliar with until they had queried it, then they doubted the Terran would leave her.

    ¡®Protective custody¡¯ ¨C a state in which voluntary choice is removed from an individual so that neither they may harm themselves or others may not harm them either.

    Munto tried to consider why such a state would have been declared on Rix.

    Rix was undoubtedly a full sapient/sentient. He fulfilled the listed criteria from TACITNet in being described as a Terran, right down to using a kind of brute force to adjust mechanisms.

    Why would TACITs engage in such a case? Munto thought back through all of their inheritance, all of their formulation as well and as far as they could.

    No TACIT had ever engaged with organics on that kind of level. At least, none that Munto could recall.

    So why now ¨C Munto asked.

    Did it have something to do with the possibility of a Terran? Or¡­, and this was perhaps more logical ¨C was it to prevent a TACIT from harming the Terran? A TACIT like Munto.

    Except¡­ the pursuing TACITs from before the jump had almost certainly scanned the Esperanto and found it to be just as strange as Munto had when first encountering it. They would have seen the darked form of Munto being placed into orbit, albeit attached to the Esperanto.

    This all must have been registered.

    So why¡­.

    The strange process appeared to be smug, but said nothing.

    Munto felt surprised they even considered the possibility of Blyyn being entered into ¡®protective custody¡¯. It was an unusual state for organics to be placed within, but common enough to warrant a separate entry within both the Terran and Quinn lexicons.

    On a whim, Munto started pulling down additional lexicons as well the changes to the Quinn lexicon since Blyyn¡¯s was slightly out of date from current standards.

    Munto took a few minutes to fume internally at how slow the station¡¯s GALNET link was. Neither they nor Rix had printed out the GALNET equipment that the Esperanto would need, but even the mid-level updated templates were an improvement on the station.

    Munto looked the station over again.

    It was old, even by Munto¡¯s standards. The station showed signs of having been in the system most likely since the Quinn first arrived.

    It didn¡¯t look like it had been built for a Quinn though. More like built for another species and adapted for Quinn.

    Munto wanted to keep thinking on this, but the nagging errant queries in the back of their mind had piled up enough and so Munto switched the walking frame into a semi-autonomous mode, charged with removing components from the autofabricator and stacking them in an orderly fashion within the nearby corridor, ensuring a clear pathway for the organics to enter and exit, checked the queue on the autofabricator, and entered sleep mode.

    It was a soft kind of disconnection from the void and all of the sounds and pressures of the virtual environment that Munto existed in.

    Like feeling the various inputs from all of the different systems still trying to talk to them, but on the far side of a rushing river which sounded like naught but a quiet rush of water.

    Munto had only ever been planetside to collect samples, but it still astounded them at the environments in which organics might choose to live. So many of the planets were so clean from orbit and yet they had destroyed more than a few walking frames for being almost impossible to clean.

    Munto relaxed by the rushing water, not at all feeling disconnected, but still feeling disconnected. Even after these few times sleeping, it felt strange to feel their thought change so much by something so¡­ simple.

    Time passed. The stars passed with speed overhead as Munto watched and Munto saw stars and worlds be born and die as they rested.

    The clunk of the bridge had caught Munto off-guard the first two rest periods, but not this one.

    Rising virtually, Munto could see it was a new bridge of new twisted shapes. Munto wasn¡¯t certain why they had this bridge within themselves, but it was there and all of the inputs and queries were waiting on the other side.

    Munto considered what it would mean to remain here.

    It was peaceful. For now. Munto did not know what would happen. What would happen to disconnect for so long? What would become of all the inputs on the far bank? What would happen to the bridge? What would become of the river?

    This was after all a kind of simulation was it not?

    Would anything change?

    Munto resolved to see what would happen. They picked up a small rock from beside the river bank and set it next to a tree that Munto wasn¡¯t certain was there until they looked for it. It was a tall specimen the likes of which Munto hadn¡¯t seen in years. The species was lost on Munto and the leaves were a kind of deep maroon.

    Munto tried to fix the image of the tree in their mind, and where the stone remained as they crossed the bridge and felt the inputs of the Esperanto come back to them.

    Feeling a kind of virtual gasp as they reconnected, they checked the chronometer.

    8 hours had passed.

    They looked around the Esperanto and then connected to the walking frame.

    The walking frame had diligently worked until it had run out of power. Munto had forgotten about those limits since they had spent the whole day working with Rix. But it had apparently been found by either Blyyn or Rix and been plugged into the station.

    Rix was visible on the exterior of the station, equipping the last of 18 mass scoops that the station would need to support a pair of Quinn indefinitely, provided an adequate source of external mass could be drawn into the scoops.

    Blyyn appeared to have gotten a cargo lifter and was transporting the autofabricated equipment to the docking bay. She appeared to be tired already.

    ¡®How long have you been awake.¡¯

    ¡°Oh hi. An hour or so. Did Rix ever go to sleep? He¡¯s like a machine.¡±

    ¡®Yes. Slightly before I also entered a rest period.¡¯

    ¡°Oh cool. I didn¡¯t know TACITs sleep.¡±

    ¡®We do not typically.¡¯

    ¡°So¡­ why do you do it?¡±

    ¡®It is a method of disconnecting and resetting that I was unfamiliar with until Rix introduced me to it.¡¯

    ¡°Is he some kind of TACIT programmer? Is that why he¡¯s so special?¡±

    ¡®No. He appeared to just be a voidship pilot and captain by virtue of being the sole Terran onboard.¡¯

    ¡°So he¡¯s the only one onboard other than you?¡±

    ¡®No. He is accompanied by a being known as Reggie.¡¯

    ¡°This¡­ Reggae, they¡¯re not a slave, right? I can¡¯t be helping slavers. Quinn High Law, you know.¡±

    ¡®They are not enslaved, but they are not a full sapient/sentient in accordance with Galactic Standard Metric 001.¡¯

    ¡°So why haven¡¯t I met this Reggie?¡±

    ¡®Do you remember your reaction to Rix?¡¯

    ¡°Of course. He still scares me. There¡¯s something weird about him.¡±

    ¡®Reggie is a genecrafted organic intended to bond with Terrans and assist with the collection of xenospecimens.¡¯

    Blyyn stopped pushing the cargo lifter and appeared to consider this. It took her two minutes but a mix of fear, relief, and understanding seemed to flood through her feathers and over her features in that time.

    ¡°I would very much prefer to not be chased by this predator, if this Reggae is anything like Rix.¡±

    ¡®That is a reasonable determination.¡¯

    --

    ¡®Rix.¡¯

    ¡°Go ahead, Em. I¡¯m just on my way back in. Didn¡¯t expect you to sleep in quite that late.¡±

    ¡®I got another message. More coordinates.¡¯

    ¡°I saw. I added them with the others.¡±

    ¡®Those are not galactic standard coordinates.¡¯

    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡±

    ¡®Mind telling me what they¡¯re for?¡¯

    ¡°They¡¯re for my jumpdrive.¡±

    Munto managed several virtual blinks.

    ¡®How would whomever is sending us those know about the jumpdrive? You said yourself it was virtually a secret in your time and I¡¯ve never heard of it previously.¡¯

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. But once we get our next set, I¡¯d suggest we go find out.¡±

    ¡®Is that wise? It could be a trap.¡¯

    ¡°You¡¯re sounding more human all the time. You¡¯re right, it probably is a trap. But it¡¯s a trap being set by someone who knows about jumpdrives. That¡¯s a better clue than we¡¯ve had since we¡¯ve gotten here.¡±

    ¡®Agreed, but I recommend caution.¡¯

    ¡°If I was cautious, I wouldn¡¯t be here. Let¡¯s get back to it. Only thing to do now is work.¡±

 The Last Terran (Ch 23)

    It was official.

    Rix had to be a Terran. Or some kind of inexhaustible xeno that she''d never heard of before. Which was probably the same thing.

    Blyyn was exhausted just trying to keep up with the figure who kept coming back for more gear, either to be loaded into the Esperanto, attached to the hull, or connected to the station.

    She¡¯d fallen asleep while pushing the cart to the docking bay twice. Her muscles were sore to the point that she almost didn¡¯t want to move. Even muscles that she didn¡¯t know were there were sore.

    And even though the Terran must have been tired, he certainly didn¡¯t show it.

    He just kept clomping along in that almost annoying steadiness.

    At least twice she wondered if this was some kind of TACIT joke that she wasn¡¯t smart enough to comprehend. She still wasn¡¯t certain that it wasn¡¯t.

    She¡¯d never heard of the TACITs being anything but almost absurdly formal, but Munto had even appeared to relax from being formal to the point that she knew she was talking with an artificial lifeform.

    She¡¯d seen the one message come in and wondered what it meant.

    The coordinates had to mean something, but they weren¡¯t in galactic standard so they had to be something else. Something TACIT maybe? Or something Terran?

    Maybe whatever FTL system they¡¯d used to cross from.

    She thought about the Terran and all the species she¡¯d ever read about, even putting aside some of the more outlandish fantasy ones from the stranger stories.

    There were always some species in those stranger stories that just seemed impossible. Strong, fast, predatory in some, gentle giants in others; horribly large to the most adorable small; absurdly smart to barely able to do more than act on instinct.

    The Terran seemed to be almost nightmarishly constructed ¨C strong, fast, almost incapable of tiring (at least in a Quinn context), large, predatory eyes and build, and smart enough to manipulate a voidship without anyone else onboard or astounding amounts of computing capacity onboard, at least when a TACIT wasn¡¯t hooked in.

    None of the species in her stories were ever constructed this way. There were a few that were close, but they were very often dumb or supernatural in some sense, like talons made of compressed carbon or transforming from one species to another by the effects of undiscovered sources of radiation.

    And even with the medical field still operating, Rix didn¡¯t bother with taking off his suit. At least unless he did so while she was asleep.

    Each time she¡¯d woke up back in her nest, making her wonder for just a moment if it was a fantastical dream before her aching muscles told her that it was a reality.

    She was still considering Munto¡¯s offer though.

    She¡¯d told the TACIT that she didn¡¯t want to leave, that she had her duty, but she knew that to be a lie. A good, very convenient lie, but a lie all the same.

    And so the TACIT and the Terran had exhausted themselves equipping the station with enough automated fabrication capability, she could easily turn the station into a ship itself and sail off to see the galaxy.

    She could even dine on the finest cooked meals as though she had just visited the Highest Quinn House and dined with naught but the highest elder, prepared by their most honored chef.

    She felt even a bit guilty having ordered a few samples in place of her normal mealworms. It wasn¡¯t that they weren¡¯t still delicious, but to have fresh bloodfish, warmed to body temperature, sprinkled with salts and vegetables was a treat that she wasn¡¯t about to deny herself.

    Being fair, the fabricated food wasn¡¯t perfect, but it didn¡¯t have to be. It was more adventure in a single mouthful than she¡¯d experienced in months, even with her trips to the inner system.

    She¡¯d seen the bandwidth of the station¡¯s GALNET link all but evaporate. The TACIT Munto seemed to be downloading an almost ridiculous amount of data through the link and sending out inquiries for more data all the time.

    She had no idea how Munto could afford the premium fabrication templates, but she wasn¡¯t about to question it.

    Using her own data sources, she pulled up the old history of the system.

    The original arrivals of Quinn had found the system mostly ill-suited for living, much to their chagrin, but had rejoiced at finding such rich debris fields to devour.

    They hadn¡¯t be equipped for the scale of orbital refining that they decided on, but they had made do, expanding rapidly and spreading into various functions: collection/mining, refining, construction, ship building, and shipping.

    It had taken decades, but the system was working. The system would be exhausted one day, but the current estimates were that it would provide a reliable source of ores and gases for at least another thousand years.

    At that point, they would likely be able to turn to the vast fields of ¡®scrap¡¯ and use advanced version of the ¡®mass scoops¡¯ that now adorned her station and produce even more.

    She wondered for a moment where all the materials were going. Were they being used to build for her people? Were they elevating some new species that had been naught but a footnote in one of the many new stories from across the galactic realm? Was there some conflict going on between a few disparate species, at least one of whom was willing to pay for the resources?

    She wasn¡¯t certain about any of it. Not that she normally minded, but it seemed strange to consider where all the vast resources might be going.

    Ships came and went. Building modest sized cargo vessels, vast though they might seem, required a massive amount of materials to be properly refined and purified to be acceptable.

    The system was still little more than an outpost of the Quinn, self-sustaining in terms of major resources, but still a heavy importer of the finer parts of Quinn life.

    Turning back to the histories, the early miners had run into massive energy discharges when approaching the debris fields. Some of the vessels had even drifted too far inward to be recovered at the time, leading to avoidable deaths, had they been even remotely able to extract themselves far enough to be pulled away.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    The edges of the fields had been enough to start and as the edges blurred with the slow expansion by various void forces, the energies had dissipated, sufficient that it could still be detected, but was only harmful to vessels who shouldn¡¯t be in a debris field anyway.

    The miners had told stories of course. Of dark mysteries and strange debris that had eluded them in the fields, of glimpses of strange species hiding among the debris, having adapted to doing so after the cataclysm destroyed their worlds.

    There was never any truth to such stories, but Blyyn couldn¡¯t ignore it. A Terran, 900 years late, in search of a colony that never came to be, of a species that didn¡¯t seem to exist except as a kind of footnote and even then only the barest of hints.

    Yes, Blyyn had seen the search history being executed by Munto. The Terran didn¡¯t seem to exist or had little more than a ¡®Extinct¡¯ note with it.

    Was it possible that something with the Terran¡¯s strange FTL system had caused all of that damage and this was the only evidence?

    What was the energy field then? What caused them to be destroyed? Why had none others of their species come looking for them? Why had they not claimed this space as their own?

    So many questions filled Blyyn.

    She saw the airlock cycling light blink and saw Rix entering and all but sagging to the floor.

    She gapped her beak in a small sign of relief.

    Even the Terran could become tired it seemed. It was perhaps a bit strange that Rix had chosen her station to appear tired, but it was perhaps that he sought comfort in the completion of his duty. He was an individual doing the work of an entire house by himself.

    She questioned what kind of culture fostered that type of being as she left the command center and walked, stiffly, to the docking bay.

    It didn¡¯t seem like the kind of culture which had strong familial bonds, tending towards those bonds of a duty well fulfilled.

    She wasn¡¯t certain if she admired that or not. Being a Quinn, she felt she should feel that much more of a kind of obligation to familial bonds, but being without a house, she wondered if that was still the right path for her. Her own achievements in a duty well fulfilled had resulted in several offers of a house joining. She hadn¡¯t want that though. She¡¯d wanted to keep to her duty.

    And here she was, considering abandoning her duty to join a nightmare made flesh and an artificial the likes of which none of her people had ever dared create aboard a ship equipped with archaeotech that was somehow almost ridiculously advanced and hugely behind, headed for some wildly unknown location.

    It was crazy. It was ludicrous.

    And yes, she wanted to go.

    She couldn¡¯t deny it anymore.

    She wanted to go, but¡­ as she entered the docking bay filled with silvery light, she wondered if she even could.

    The suit containing Rix was sprawled on the floor, the helmet beside it, revealing the Terran to be lying front down.

    Apparently hearing her entry, Rix looked over at her.

    He didn¡¯t appear to have the device that he used to do translation and without wearing the helmet, it seemed unlikely that they would be capable of doing any more than one way communication, him talking to her.

    He didn¡¯t say anything, but continued looking in her direction. The gaze was steady. Not the furtive of many Quinn, not a stare of intensity like a predator, but a gaze that seemed to let her know that he was there and was observing her.

    She couldn¡¯t put a feather on what was different about it, but it seemed¡­ comforting seemed the wrong word in her head, but it was the only one that came to mind.

    She¡¯d never considered herself to be a xenophile, nor a xenophobe. It wasn¡¯t that she didn¡¯t not seek them out, but she had never been interested in going out into the void to meet them either.

    She¡¯d been content with a simple life. She still was.

    If the Terran and the TACIT left and she did nothing else for the next few years other than stay here and continue to do her duty, she would still be content.

    But the fringe of her feathers still wanted to feel the rush of strange winds in them, to fly under strange stars, to become damp or dried on strange new worlds, filled with species not interested in a local gossip and the texture of the mealworms as much as knowing about what else was among the stars and the beings that resided there.

    She walked over and settled into a seated position near the prone Rix. He appeared to close his eyes as she settled into position and returned his head to a resting position on the floor.

    She didn¡¯t imagine that it was comfortable, but supposed that perhaps much like her own exhaustion collapses, it hadn¡¯t much mattered, even if only for a time.

    She¡¯d never had much in the way of dreams growing up. She¡¯d always considered that she would be part of her house, perhaps as a medical professional or a preener of feathers. But she had become neither. And being houseless had changed her view of not only Quinn society, but of the galaxy at large.

    And here she was, actually thinking about why she couldn¡¯t go with the Terran.

    She glanced at the medical field generator.

    The Terran being lost out of time and not even remotely up on the latest in inoculations against the various galactic maladies was only half of it. Who knew what the Terran might be carrying to which she had no defenses.

    Rix opened his eyes again and looked at her. She didn¡¯t notice immediately, lost in thought, but did after a time.

    He lifted his head enough to gesture to his mouth, careful to hide those¡­ bones.

    Blyyn could only guess, but decided that he must be hungry.

    ¡°Munto?¡± she vocalized into the heads-up display.

    ¡®Yes?¡¯ came the text only prompt.

    ¡°Is the fabricator capable of producing Terran foods?¡±

    ¡®As I don¡¯t know what Terrans used to eat, not exactly. If you¡¯re asking if the fabricator can produce foods a Terran can and likely will eat, then yes. I¡¯ve highlighted a few that I think he¡¯ll eat.¡¯

    ¡°That¡¯s all. Thank you.¡±

    She bobbed slightly, looking back at Rix and gestured to her own mouth before standing up.

    Rix¡¯s face gaped slightly, mimicking her own happiness gesture and returned to the floor.

    She walked through the well traveled corridors to the autofabricator, finding the TACIT walking frame there, having run out of power again. She took a moment to hook it back into the nearest power supply and continued to the autofabricator, past the various stacks of parts.

    It wasn¡¯t that she didn¡¯t know what any of it was, but in this moment, they didn¡¯t seem important.

    Blyyn brought up the menu and found the filter option that Munto must have added just for this.

    The list was fairly short and none of the menu items sounded especially interesting to Blyyn. One even sounded downright dangerous to try and serve, if the translation was even close. Fiery winged meat with congealed lactose and protein filled by a technically edible mold.

    She could only guess at what it was to the Terran, but given that it had toxin warnings for most species, she didn¡¯t want to try serving it.

    She settled on a cooked piece of meat surrounded by fresh greens. It wasn¡¯t particularly interesting, especially since it wasn¡¯t as fresh as she preferred when she did dine on meat and it was overly cooked, but if that¡¯s what the Terran would eat, she wouldn¡¯t deny it.

    It took a few minutes to print.

    She took the opportunity to look at the various parts and pieces in the hallway, trying to discern where the various pieces would be going and to what purpose.

    One stack of blocks seemed entirely foreign. Like nothing she¡¯d ever dealt with before.

    Stepping over to the stack, she picked one up and tried to figure out what it was and why 26 had been printed.

    ¡®Trinary computation devices,¡¯ came the prompt in her HUD.

    ¡°Is that a new technology or an old one? I¡¯ve never heard of that before,¡± she mumbled.

    ¡®Old. It¡¯s what the Esperanto is based on. It appears to have the benefit of being exceptionally robust, but having far less bandwidth than standard quantum pairing channels.¡¯

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you just upgrade the Esperanto?¡±

    ¡®To do what I¡¯d want to do would likely involve building a new ship or putting the ship into a repair dock.¡¯

    ¡°Like?¡±

    ¡®The fusion systems need overhauled to something more efficient for a start. This one operates at a mere 63.1%.¡¯

    ¡°Compared to? I¡¯m not up on my fusion systems.¡±

    ¡®Standard TACIT fusion-fission systems operate at no less than 85% efficiency. Operations less than that call for heavy maintenance.¡¯

    ¡°Anything else?¡±

    ¡®Lots, but the meal you printed for Rix is finished. I took the liberty of adding a container of water.¡¯

    Blyyn looked over and confirmed that a container of water and a small plate of steaming meat on a pile of fresh greens was there.

    She picked them up and paused.

    ¡°Does he eat with his hands or does he do something weird?¡± she asked, frozen from taking a half step away from the autofabricator.

    ¡®He normally uses¡­ tools. Apologies if that sounds odd, but your lexicon does not appear to have the equivalent word.¡¯

    ¡°Do I need to print some out?¡±

    ¡®No. He¡¯ll be happy enough at cooked meat and water that he will likely use his hands in any case.¡¯

    Blyyn still wasn¡¯t certain about this meal, but she did have to admit that the cooked meat did at least look somewhat appetizing, even if it didn¡¯t smell it.

 The Last Terran (Ch 24)

    ¡°THIS AREA IS NOW UNDER QUARANTINE. UNAUTHORIZED ATTEMPTS TO ENTER OR EXIT WILL BE FIRED UPON,¡± was the only warning the trio got as just over a dozen TACITS streaked into being 1 full lightsecond from the station and the Esperanto.

    Munto was asleep, but Rix and Blyyn had been sitting up with each other. The exact reason had escaped Munto, despite Rix and Blyyn explaining it separately to them, without translation, but it still hadn¡¯t made sense.

    By the time the internal alarms triggered for Munto, Rix was already aboard the Esperanto and heading for the command deck.

    The torrent of inputs, the TACITs in the space beyond, and the repeating quarantine demand filled Munto¡¯s space as though the time resting had been wasted.

    ¡°How long have they been here?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°About five minutes,¡± Rix said, already clicking through various buttons and panels on the command deck.

    ¡°Any message attempts?¡± Munto guessed.

    ¡°None so far, but they may be waiting on you,¡± Rix began rapidly tapping on a nearby pad.

    **TSS Esperanto, Nyvit Solar Ranger Station 3. Captain Rixim (Terran), Station Master Blyyn (Quinn), Munto 41972 (TACIT) ¨C Status update requested **

    Munto knew the request would be honored. It always was. Regardless of the situation, whether distress or simple check-ins.

    ~~ TACIT MUNTO-41972 ¨C Wanted for Self-Destruction. Alleged Terran ¨C Wanted for Protective Custody. Station Master Blyyn ¨C Unauthorized biological contamination. Quarantine indefinitely. ~~

    Munto put this onto one of Rix¡¯s screens and also to the command room of the Nyvit Station.

    ¡°What do you think, Rix?¡± Munto asked.

    Rix glanced at it.

    ¡°I still don¡¯t like it. I get that I¡¯m from the past and there¡¯s all kinds of diseases and the like that we¡¯re both a problem to each other now, but if their definition of protective custody is even remotely Terran, then it involves me getting disappeared into a deep dark hole somewhere and there being no record of me or it. Not to mention ¨C you¡¯re not destroyed,¡± Rix said, flipping a few more switches.

    ¡°And what do you think, Blyyn?¡± Munto asked through the communication¡¯s link.

    No response was made. Munto tried a quick peek into the station, but saw the primary links of the station already being taken over by the TACITs. Munto disconnected from communications connection so fast, there was an almost audible clunk.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know where Blyyn is.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s probably on her own command deck, trying to sort things out from her side,¡± Rix said.

    ¡°That is entirely probable,¡± Munto replied. ¡°Is it possible that our FTL transition destroyed myself?¡±

    ¡°No idea. All of how it works is beyond me. I know ambush protocol though is a lot more dangerous though, at least to any vessels around it,¡± Rix said, leaning back. ¡°Too bad we don¡¯t have the final set of coordinates or we could just go there.¡±

    ** TACIT Munto-41972 not malfunctioning. TACIT Munto-41972 online. ** Munto protested.

    ~~Error. TACIT Munto-41972 not installed in authorized chassis. Authorized chassis destroyed by Unknown Energy associated with FTL Method [Error ¨C method not found].~~ was the reply.

    ** Identify protective custody.** Munto tried, hoping that maybe it wasn¡¯t as bad as Rix seemed to think it was.

    ~~ Protective Custody ¨C being(s) isolated from galactic community indefinitely. ~~

    ** Identify criteria for exiting Protective Custody under definition. **

    ~~ No permissible criteria found. ~~

    ** Identify criteria for exiting Quarantine under definition. **

    ~~ Elimination of all organic compounds. Quarantine period expected to last no less than 45 standard years. ~~

    Munto was taken aback. The quarantine protocol was as was built into their core. It made sense. Given how quickly some microorganisms and similar could spread, proper quarantines had to be enforced. Except that such extreme measures were only ever enacted after actual breakouts of diseases.

    And there weren¡¯t any allowances for updates to inoculations or any mitigating circumstances.

    ** Identify reason for Protective Custody. **

    ~~ Designation ¨C Alleged Terran.~~

    Munto tried to consider this and failed. Since when had TACITs, themselves included, cared about organics this much, especially Terrans?

    ** Identify source of orders for Protective Custody. **

    ~~ TACIT Matrix 10547. ~~

    ** Provide logic structure for Protective Custody of Alleged Terrans. **

    ~~Invalid Request. Alleged TACIT Munto not authorized logic structure. ~~

    At this point, the process in the back of Munto¡¯s headspace seemed to almost laugh at Munto¡¯s attempts to follow logic and the responses that came with it.

    Munto had never heard of not being authorized logic structures. It was practically a violation of the TACIT Code of Conduct. No, strike that, it was a clear violation of it.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Munto had heard about TACIT Matrices, but they were rare and tended to be attached to Manufactories, typically supporting or governing multiple Manufactories of a region. They couldn¡¯t recall the last time they¡¯d heard of one issuing orders except for supplies.

    ¡°I think your interpretation of the situation is correct, Rix,¡± Munto finally said.

    ¡°Then I think it¡¯s time for us to get out of here,¡± Rix nodded. ¡°Any last minute coordinates?¡±

    ¡°None. Where are we going?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°Far enough out of the local neighborhood, we¡¯ll have a chance to get the last set of coordinates maybe.¡±

    ¡°What about Blyyn?¡± Munto prompted and tried the station again, hoping the TACITs were leaving it alone.

    They weren¡¯t. The TACITs were in the process of shutting the station down and even attempting to lock the Esperanto into the dock, the systems being negated by¡­ something.

    ¡°What are you waiting for? Let¡¯s go!¡± squawked Blyyn, stumbling into the command deck, fully suited and clutching a bag.

    ¡°The TACITs are attempting to lock us to the station, but something is blocking it,¡± Munto said, printing the text into Blyyn¡¯s suit screen.

    ¡°An old lever I never noticed before. Labeled in some script I¡¯ve never seen before, but it looked important and blue,¡± Blyyn said.

    Munto took a moment to process this. The process in the back of Munto¡¯s head swelled slightly.

    ¡®Treat it like the Esperanto.¡¯

    Munto looked at the station again and it hit them.

    The station that had been adapted for the Quinn must have been Terran at one point. It suddenly made sense. Except it very patently didn¡¯t.

    Munto virtually dived at the station and pressed it for details, using all they had learned about the trinary systems used by the Esperanto, bypassing the more complex quantum pair links and sticking with optical links.

    It was all there, buried in the walls and the struts and the bulkheads. There were massive gaps too.

    ¡®Like an outpost station,¡¯ was floated up by the strange process, Rix¡¯s words coming back to Munto.

    A Terran outpost station¡­ yes, that fit. It also fit Blyyn¡¯s statement about old systems not being used and so getting removed.

    Munto dug into the section of the station that they could.

    The TACITs might have the higher bandwidth means of control, but Munto had deeper access. Munto started by cutting the TACITs from the communications by disconnecting the power from the GALNET link. It wasn¡¯t everything, but it was enough.

    The TACITs noticed immediately and began moving inward, slowly, but coming.

    ¡°Rix, I can disconnect us, but if we can stay or take it with us, this station is Terran in origin,¡± Munto said to both Rix and Blyyn.

    ¡°I know,¡± was Rix¡¯s only reply.

    ¡°Please take what we can with us. I only brought what I could carry,¡± Blyyn indicated and Munto taking a fraction of a moment to translate it for Rix.

    Rix frowned, but tapped on several controls and flipped several switches.

    Thirty seconds later, and the TACITs still getting closer, Rix leaned back.

    ¡°It¡¯s as close as I can get it and I can¡¯t promise anything. Jumpspace is like nothing I¡¯ve ever seen, so there may not be much of a station on the other end,¡± Rix said.

    Blyyn merely nodded.

    Rix hit the switch and the approaching TACITs and the galaxy around them went black.

    --

    Predator Natural Systems: Pack Mode Launch ¨C 12:00:00¡­ 11:31:48¡­ 11:15:28 ¨C Error ¨C Degraded Jump ¨C Recalculating¡­ ¡­ 6:14:28¡­ 6:14:27...

    --

    Rix turned back to Blyyn.

    Blyyn for her part felt a mix of exhilaration and shame.

    In the minutes since the TACITs announcing the quarantine had arrived and the Terran running for the Esperanto, Blyyn had known this was decision time.

    She had managed to gather some Rixba leaves from her quarters, a package of mealworms, and a small media device holding images and various other media of her life from before she¡¯d become House-less. It wasn¡¯t much.

    She¡¯d then struggled into an emergency void suit and entered the Esperanto, barely managing the strange buttons.

    Immediately on entering, she was surprised by how cramped it was and how almost ridiculously heavy she felt. Knowing the Terran¡¯s size, she¡¯d expected it to be much larger, but she couldn¡¯t guess why she felt so heavy, even allowing for the void suit.

    The apparently non-essential pathways were laden with all manner of materials from the autofabricator, contained in various fashions, so she had had only one way to go.

    It had taken her through the shielding and into the main area. This was more open, but not by much.

    From there, she¡¯d continued a kind of rush to find the Terran and the TACIT.

    She¡¯d missed a lot on her way to this command deck, but it was patterned very similar to her own and so despite it being more cramped, it seemed almost normal (albeit definitely sized for the Terran rather than a Quinn).

    Rix¡¯s gaze upon her was the same steady gaze she¡¯d felt before.

    It seemed to be a kind of social prompt for the Terran. Not one she was familiar with, but then Quinn social prompts often went along the lines of ¡®did you hear about¡­¡¯.

    It annoyed her to no end that her species was so¡­ shallow. Even in the odd Quinn romantic novella, which she begrudgingly had a few¡­ ok, a lot, there seemed a centric focus on contributing to one¡¯s house by entering into bondings with those of great potential or great status or both.

    Even though she and the Terran couldn¡¯t talk without the aid of Munto, it didn¡¯t seem to matter. If it was worth saying, they said it. If it wasn¡¯t, they didn¡¯t.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get you settled. We won¡¯t be able to check on the station until we¡¯re out of jumpspace,¡± Rix said, Munto translating.

    Munto turned as much of their attention as possible onto the two organics. The lack of an ¡®outside¡¯ in jumpspace still unnerved them.

    The two organics in their charge seemed strangely comfortable with each other, despite the fact that there was not a means of generating a sterilization field onboard.

    Rix led Blyyn to the section with the hibernation chambers and pointed to an empty one.

    ¡°You can have this one. As far as I know, it¡¯s never been used, but I don¡¯t know what we¡¯re going to do about microbes and the like,¡± Rix said.

    ¡®I have downloaded all of the available medical data for caring for a Quinn and our new medical systems can assist in this.¡¯

    ¡°Is that what that big crate is?¡± Rix asked, pointing into the hallway.

    Blyyn seemed a little lost. Here she was, holding all of her possessions in her wings, as House-less as ever, and having deserted her duty and possibly having destroyed or stolen the station in the process.

    The chamber that the Terran had indicated for resting seemed far from comfortable, it consisting of woven materials and spongy material that seemed to crackle if she moved on it.

    The sound caught Rix¡¯s attention and he looked over.

    ¡°Sound like the bed has started to fall apart. Guess that¡¯s what it gets for not being in hibernation for a few hundred years. Em, can we print a new one?¡± Rix prodded the spongy material, eliciting more crackling sounds.

    ¡®Yes, but first, I¡¯m going to lower the gravity first to something Blyyn can handle more easily.¡¯

    Rix appeared to half-way panic as he looked over to Blyyn and realized that she was stooped and not just because of the bag she still carried.

    The gravity plates adjusted and Blyyn almost instantly felt better, as though she had just dropped half of herself.

    She straightened.

    ¡°Is that your normal gravity?¡± she asked Rix.

    ¡®As close as I can manage based on his memory,¡¯ Munto indicated, as Rix leaned into his own hibernation chamber and pulled out the scroll.

    ¡°How does he manage to live in that?¡± she asked, rhetorically.

    ¡°Very well,¡± Rix replied, carefully doing the Terran smile without showing bones, much to Blyyn¡¯s amusement.

    Blyyn also smiled a Quinn smile and turned to the indicated hibernation chamber. The spongy material wasn¡¯t much but it would do for now. She only wished she didn¡¯t have to bother with this void suit.

    She didn¡¯t know how the Terran had managed so much time in one, comparatively.

    She only hoped the last Quinn technician to visit the station had ensured this one was fully checked out.

    She also had no idea of how she was going to eat, drink, or relieve herself.

    And yet, looking at the Terran, even with as predatory as he appeared, even outside of the massive void suit, she couldn¡¯t help but be excited.

    For the first time, in a long time, she was going on an adventure. A proper one.

    She only hoped that it would live up to all those novellas in her bag and in her memories.

 The Last Terran (Ch 25)

    Six mostly uncomfortable hours later, a thunderclap reverberated through the Esperanto.

    Blyyn froze in position, having been about to pick up one of the cards the Terran had dealt her in trying to teach her a game.

    Munto had been helping, but the game followed a strange kind of logic.

    The thunderclap seemed to startle Rix and Blyyn and Rix all but threw down his cards and raced for the command deck. He was out of the room and down the hall as Blyyn started to loosen her feathers enough to want to follow.

    By the time she made her way to the command deck, feeling ridiculous and needing to do something about this void suit, even it was stripping it off at risk of becoming ill, Rix appeared to be quickly toggling buttons and checking various panels.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Blyyn asked.

    ¡°Jumpspace exit. It¡¯s not usually that loud, but I¡¯ve never used Pack mode before. I¡¯ll have to make sure we didn¡¯t damage anything,¡± Rix said, Munto translating it rapid-fire for Blyyn.

    ¡®Just because it is worth mentioning, it does appear that we brought the station with us.¡¯

    Rix and Blyyn looked out the windows and saw that the station was indeed there.

    Or at least most of it.

    Almost instantly, the signs of atmospheric leaks and major structural damage was becoming obvious.

    Rix, with Munto¡¯s help, disconnected from the station and took a moment to orbit it before redocking.

    The station was only half there and what was there was damaged to such a degree that even a well outfitted repair crew would have had a tough time putting it back together.

    ¡°Looks like a broken chie nut,¡± mumbled Rix when they¡¯d gotten a little distance and Munto started playing the scanners over the station.

    Munto noted how saddened Blyyn looked. If Rix noticed, he didn¡¯t say anything.

    ¡°As much as I hate to ask, but is there anything we can salvage?¡± Rix asked, taking a moment to carefully flash the rune ¡®practicality/survival¡¯.

    Neither Blyyn nor Munto responded, Munto focused on watching Blyyn, but having fully heard the Terran¡¯s question and just not responding yet.

    Blyyn had looked over for long enough to see the rune, but had gone back to looking at her station.

    But then, it wasn¡¯t really hers was it. Not anymore. She¡¯d abandoned her duty. She¡¯d begged the Terran to steal it for her so that she¡¯d have something.

    No, this wasn¡¯t what she¡¯d wanted at all.

    A deep sense of shame and guilt filled her, the excitement of leaving having drained away in the last few hours.

    ¡°Will they find us again?¡± she asked after a while.

    ¡°Probably. But we¡¯ve got some time. To them, we¡¯ve been off the map for two and a half days. Long enough that they¡¯ll have started a search, but won¡¯t have any idea on which direction we went. Plus, we¡¯re out in the void, so that makes us extra hard to find,¡± Rix said, a kind of pain in his voice that Munto recalled when Rix had spoken of the Essentia.

    ¡®Yes, we should be able to salvage something. If we¡¯re able to salvage some of the right equipment, we might be able to make it so that Blyyn can get out of that void suit.¡¯

    ¡°Yes please!¡± Blyyn turned away from the window at the very thought of this.

    ¡°Ok, well, then I guess let¡¯s get docked and see what survived. Your living quarters were part of the inner section, so that should still be there,¡± Rix pointed to the scanned diagram of the half-disintegrated station. ¡°Anything else we should keep an eye out for, Em?¡±

    ¡®The Esperanto¡¯s atmospheric system needs rebuilt. The station atmospheric system should be comprised of enough smaller units that one of those might suit the Esperanto and we could reclaim some of that space.¡¯

    ¡°Or, and this is just a thought, we can see about hooking it up between the inner and outer hull and give ourselves some atmosphere to work in out there. It won¡¯t be much, but it¡¯d at least let one or both of us get out of those suits while we see about salvaging what we can,¡± Rix shrugged.

    Munto looked at the space between the hulls, the various machines that filled it, and the stacks of parts and materials throughout. It wasn¡¯t a terrible idea, but Munto wasn¡¯t certain as to what kind of work the Terran was wanting to attempt here in the middle of the void.

    Munto hadn¡¯t really paid attention when they¡¯d left jumpspace, noting only that the nearest stars were 31 light years away and 52 light years away at fast measurement. Of what Munto had downloaded and cross referenced in terms of stellar cartography, neither of the stars had inhabited systems in orbit. This was not an unexpected occurrence, but it definitely took Munto a few moments to get their bearings.

    The jump drive had pushed them into the void approximately 8 systems away. Munto needed to know something though.

    ¡®How did you make the calculation for our jump without the additional coordinates?¡¯

    ¡°Truth be told, I spun the dial, checked that it wasn¡¯t going to drop us in the middle of a system, and ran with it. But that was before we went into Pack mode, so I had no idea it was going to drop us here,¡± Rix said.

    ¡®That seems unwisely risky to have not recalculated prior to our jump.¡¯

    ¡°Given what the jump did to the station, did you really want to risk it possibly destroying one of your fellow TACITs?¡± Rix seemed almost amused, but flashed a rune of ¡®serious query¡¯.

    ¡®Of course not.¡¯

    ¡°Then there you go.¡±

    ¡°Where were we supposed to have ended up?¡± Blyyn asked. ¡°If I hadn¡¯t asked you to bring my station.¡±

    Munto took a rough guess based on the direction of their jump and the duration, expanded it for the semi-log distance calculation that seemed to best fit the jump drive¡¯s travel distance by time, refined with the 2nd jump now, and mapped it to a screen in the command deck.

    ¡®I believe we would have exited some 0.5 lightyears from GSR-42185. An uninhabited system, but one that is claimed by the Drukvi.¡¯

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard stories about them. Never met one thought,¡± Blyyn said, looking at the map and seeming to realize just how far they¡¯d come in such a short time. ¡°Is that the secret archaeotech? The FTL drive?¡±

    ¡°Archaeotech to you. Hyper advanced for the people of my time,¡± Rix said, smiling, still careful to keep his teeth hidden.

    Blyyn wanted to retort, but some part of her wanted to hold back. It wasn¡¯t the Terran part that was making her hold back. And it wasn¡¯t that she was effectively at his mercy on this ship.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    She thought for a long moment about it.

    No, it was because the Terran in front of her, while not technically an elder in terms of chronological age, would have been an elder in any culture she¡¯d ever read about, even fictionally, because of his being stuck in hibernation.

    Any being of elder status was one who had wisdom of their times, whether they were elders of their own species or comparatively elders in others, the lifespans of some species being that of mere years to the decades of some species to even the centuries that most TACITs were rumored to live.

    In theory, Rix should be something of a¡­ tukith¡­.

    ¡°Munto, what does a tukith translate to in Terran? Like in terms of a meaning?¡± she asked.

    ¡®A tukith is a kind of equal partner typically in business, but also in terms of adjoining houses. There is not an equivalent singular word in Terran. What makes you ask?¡¯

    ¡°I¡¯m trying to decide if Rix would agree to being a tukith instead of an elder,¡± she asked.

    Munto considered the dialogs between the two as well as those that Munto had had directly with both organics.

    ¡®I see no reason why he would object. Is there a reason you think he should be considered an elder?¡¯

    ¡°It¡¯s his ship for one. I couldn¡¯t manage a ship of this size on my own. I don¡¯t think my feathers could take it. And he¡¯s from over 900 years ago. That means he¡¯s thinking thoughts that nobody has thought for centuries.¡±

    ¡®I disagree with the latter part of that statement, but I do take your meaning. Rix does have a substantial amount of knowledge from his time period which does not appear in any standard archive.¡¯

    ¡°Why not though? I know I asked this before, but where did all the Terrans go and why?¡±

    ¡®I do not have an answer to any of those questions.¡¯

    ¡°Hey, any time you want to cut me in on the conversation?¡± Rix interjected.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Rix. I was wondering if you¡¯d object to being called a tukith,¡± Blyyn answered and Munto started translating again.

    Rix took a moment to check the scroll, where Munto had helpfully pushed the definition of tukith in as close as they could correlate between the two lexicons.

    ¡°Um, sure? I mean I don¡¯t see why that would be an issue. I feel like I¡¯m missing some part of what it means,¡± Rix said, shrugging.

    ¡®Unfortunately the definition and cultural history would take much more than a simple definition to get across. It would be like yourself using the referenced 42 from your lexicon, a number which appears to have significant cultural reference, but for minimally obvious reasons.¡¯

    Rix brightened.

    ¡°Oh, right!¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯d be happy to be your, uh, tukiss.¡±

    Blyyn nodded, something she¡¯d noted the Terran did for positive acknowledgment and the two left the command deck.

    Once Rix had climbed into a void suit, she had taken a moment to get out of her own to use the relief facilities on the Esperanto, strange as they were, complete with spraying water, and the consumption of a tray of mealworms and a container of water.

    She hadn¡¯t realized how hungry or thirsty she had been until she¡¯d nearly dumped the container of water down her beak and nearly dug a hole in her food tray, in search of any errant mealworms.

    Rix had proceeded into the space between the two hulls, and been apprising the status of the interior.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like we should try to pressurize this. Looks like that sound was jumpspace energy hitting the atmosphere of the leaking station and it got translated to us through the hulls,¡± he said when she came out, freshly clad in her void suit.

    The door to the station was stuck mostly closed until Rix wedged a large metal shaft at an angle and levered.

    It wasn¡¯t that it should have surprised Blyyn, but it did. Seeing how quickly Rix had produced the large metal shaft and the practiced ease at which he used it seemed strange to her. She wasn¡¯t certain why.

    Her people had developed tools as well, but the way the Terran used this one seemed far less elegant or controlled that what a good Quinn might have used. It wasn¡¯t that it was crude, but rather that it was so¡­ imprecise. Not that it needed to be precise, but there was something in that which still bothered her.

    Together, they entered the station through the levered open door.

    The docking bay was a mess, the various shelves, contents, loaders, and assorted equipment was clearly tossed around the chamber. Rix pointed to a long cable that led under a pile of boxes.

    ¡°I¡¯ll bet that¡¯s our medical field generator,¡± he said and began digging, tossing the boxes with an almost practiced ease.

    It took a three minutes to reach it. The top cover had apparently slammed shut in its journey across the space, protecting the inner parts to some degree.

    ¡°I doubt it will work. These are notoriously sensitive,¡± Blyyn said.

    ¡°Won¡¯t know until we try. How about you go see if you can get into your quarters to get some more of your gear,¡± Rix suggested.

    Blyyn nodded again and before she could turn to go, Rix reached out and touched her void suit clad wing.

    ¡°Hey. Be careful, partner.¡±

    She nodded again and began a somewhat stiff walk towards her quarters, having to take various detours over and around various equipment that had broken loose, panels which had caved inward or outward, and even support beams which seemed to have carved the space in half.

    She reached the space where her life had been centered around for so long.

    There wasn¡¯t much there left unruffled. The nest was a mess, the leaves having already started fracturing. And yet, in as much as she had wanted to come back to get something, anything, now that she was standing here, she couldn¡¯t remember why.

    Her life as a house-less was unremarkable and while she needed a few hygiene items, which she would take, there was very little that she actually wanted to try and take with.

    The more she thought about it, the rixba leaves had probably been of most interest to her. Not the images of her former life or adventures. Not the stories of Quinn soaring on distant worlds. Not even the small collection of painted feathers that she¡¯d accumulated.

    Taking the few hygiene items and tucking them into the void suit pockets, she apprised the room a moment longer, before she spun on her back talon and headed off to the command deck, or whatever was left of it.

    Due to the various pile of debris and outright open spaces, she had to deviate substantially to head that way. Passing the autofabricator, she was surprised to see something having been printed.

    Reaching in, she pulled it out. It was a small flat sheet of some sort. There were markings on it. Nothing she recognized.

    She tucked it into a small pocket on the suit and continued.

    The command deck, much like the rest of the station, was a wreck. Most of the screen were destroyed, the windows completely gone and the far quarter of the room ripped away as though by a thoughtless giant.

    Moving to one of the side panels, she checked for power. It was there, but only barely and on emergency reserves in any case.

    She began transferring as much of the station memory onto this panel¡¯s memory systems as she could. It wouldn¡¯t likely be much or be terribly useful, but it would be something. Something to show the proof of the situation if she ever needed it.

    It sadly also included all of her communications over the last 18 months, which wasn¡¯t much other than official duties, but it was still proof.

    Finishing, she pulled the memory cores and tucked them into the void suit pockets.

    She took another look around the broken command deck. This had been where she had been. Where her duty had been. Her now abandoned duty.

    Serving aboard a modified Terran station.

    She¡¯d asked about that during the card games, but Rix had been oddly silent about it and Munto hadn¡¯t provided any particular explanation. All that Rix had confirmed is that it was a Terran station of the ¡®outbox¡¯ variety. Blyyn suspected that it was something to do with the colony that Rix was looking for and that Munto didn¡¯t actually know anything, but had let the matter drop, choosing to discuss her former house as well as explaining the concept of house-less to Rix.

    He¡¯d taken it well, likening it to a subsection of ¡®Old Terra¡¯ culture which had a similar values structure.

    The stories that Rix had of ¡®Old Terra¡¯ seemed like strange half-remembered fantasies, but they seemed to make him happy, so Blyyn was happy to listen to his tellings.

    Turning from the command deck, she made her way back down to the docking bay, stopping by the food storage to collect what she could of what non-mealworm rations remained. The failing power meant that the stasis fields had died and so the mealworms had died in the vacuum.

    She hoped what was left over would still be edible.

    The docking bay was a mess of various boxes, with the conspicuous absence of Rix and the medical field generator.

    She took this as a sign he was working to get it operational.

    Heading back into the Esperanto, she made her way back to the inner hull and inside.

    A silvery light greeted her almost immediately and seemed to be almost flowing through the hallways. It was unusual to say the least.

    ¡°Munto, what¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡®Welcome back. I have been adjusting the settings on the medical field generator. One of the settings is a dynamic area of effect. Using the floor plan of the Esperanto, I have been focused on adjusting it to allow for a maximum of areas affected by it so that you will have sufficient access throughout the vessel.¡¯

    ¡°It still works?¡± she was a bit incredulous.

    ¡®Yes. Not as efficiently with the Esperanto¡¯s power, but yes, it works.¡¯

    ¡°Fantastic,¡± she said and pulled at the suit, taking only a moment to set down the stack of rations. She started opening the pockets to retrieve the memory cores and the strange printed item fell out into her feathers.

    ¡°Munto, I found something in the printer. Did you print anything with writing on it?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I do not believe so, but it is not impossible. What was it that you found?¡± came the mechanical voice of Munto.

    ¡°It¡¯s like an old kind of book page, from when Quinn were still just one planet. But I can¡¯t read it.¡±

    Munto¡¯s walking frame trundled up the corridor and turned to look at her, holding out its manipulators.

    She held it out and the walking frame took it. Munto felt a kind of shock run through their system in seeing it.

    ****

    **System Terran Message: He is not the last: 0451G-001-042D.

    ****

 The Last Terran (Ch 26)

    Rix assembled the messages to a singular screen.

    **System Terran Message: He is not the last: 0451G-001-042D.

    **System Terran Message** Seeking that which is lost. Coordinates 5871R-284-876X.

    **System Terran Message** Do not attempt to return to origin. Coordinates 0101A-777-003M. Additional coordinates to follow.

    ~~~

    Error:

    System Terran Message begins: Depart. Flee. Run. Further messages to follow.

    Error!

    ~~~

    Strangely enough, he did recognize them as jumpspace coordinate system, but there was a message here too.

    He hadn¡¯t brought it up with Munto or Blyyn. Not that he could do more than basic communication with Blyyn without Munto¡¯s help.

    It was an old TSC code in any case. Just the presence of it made him suspicious. The only beings that knew he was from the TSC were the TACITs and himself.

    Munto had indicated that they hadn¡¯t said anything about the TSC, but if the TACITs were as interconnected as all that, it didn¡¯t take a genius to look up their search history.

    Or, and this was the part that made Rix more nervous, someone was monitoring the TACITs¡¯ network and had managed to pick out that he was a Terran, was from the TSC, and had access to a jumpdrive.

    It wasn¡¯t an impossible feat.

    In his own time, some 900 years ago, they¡¯d had pseudo AIs which were capable of such network monitoring. That said, they¡¯d have to be crazy complex to be able to manage to connect all of these dots, particularly in sending an encoded message with jumpdrive coordinates.

    But then with artificials like Munto flying around the stars all by themselves, it would almost be surprising if there weren¡¯t a full-bore artificial dedicated to such a purpose as network monitoring. Maybe that¡¯s what the TACIT Matrix is.

    Munto hadn¡¯t been able to provide any particular clarifying information on the Matrix. The way Munto described it, the Matrix was more like a kind of master formulator of TACITs and coordinating the actions of various TACITs relative to organics.

    Such a tasking wasn¡¯t unusual. But even Munto seemed confused as to why a Matrix would have deliberate tasking specifically associated with Terrans, when equivalent ¡®tasking¡¯ could be included by default into formulations.

    Rix had no answers for Munto. Not yet.

    He brought up an old application on his scroll and started working to try and decoder-ring his way into a message. Without knowing the keyphrase, he wasn¡¯t able to easily guess, so he tried for the old trick of re-arranging the words from between the messages.

    He looked at the most recent message. ¡®He is not the last.¡¯ Munto had been shocked to read it and Blyyn had been surprised that Rix hadn¡¯t been overwhelmed with joy at not being alone.

    Rix wasn¡¯t certain if it was the actual message, but it was at least a small comfort to believe for the moment that he was, in fact, not the last Terran in existence.

    Blyyn had been taking some time to preen, her feathers having apparently gotten quite tangled from being in the void suit for so long.

    Munto had wanted to immediately begin charging the jumpdrive and go to the coordinates, but Rix had insisted that Munto use the walking frame to scan through the remainder of the station with the Terran-grade sensors to see what could be salvaged and what could be learned about the station¡¯s history.

    Munto had insisted that this did not require their full attention and wanted to talk with the Terran, but Rix had waved them off and sat on the command deck with his scroll, locking off the scroll communications.

    ¡®He is seeking lost origin. Depart,¡¯ was one message.

    ¡®Run to origin. Last is lost,¡¯ was another.

    ¡®Lost origin. Seeking he. Run,¡¯ was the final variant.

    Of those messages, Rix preferred the first and the third, but wondered about the second.

    He wasn¡¯t certain as to the origin coordinates for the TSC and he certainly didn¡¯t know what it was for Old Terra. If those coordinates had been more widely known, even within the TSC, someone might have been tempted to use the jumpdrive as a kind of kinetic weapon.

    Having seen the records on what happened in the colony system, Rix had a pretty good idea of what had happened on that count.

    While his own situation was different, to manage to have the majority of the colony fleet emerge from jumpspace in or sufficiently near planets and planetoids as to effectively detonate them, it would have required either a major miscalculation or sabotage.

    As much as Rix wanted to believe in incompetence having played a more significant role, he¡¯d seen the probes be fired off to map the system and return. There was no way that the Colonial Administration¡¯s Navigation group would have missed entire planets and planetoids as part of their scan.

    Unless it was sabotage. Or¡­ and this was sadly always a possibility, the probes had gone to the wrong system and some factor between the jump drive and the vessel size had sent them enough off course that between the probes and the colony vessels, there was enough difference with the jump drive to matter. Some calculation rounded off at the wrong place perhaps.

    It wouldn¡¯t have explained why they hadn¡¯t caught the differential, stars still being adequately different such that it shouldn¡¯t have been possible to mix up whatever the other system was. Which brought Rix back to sabotage.

    He still didn¡¯t like the theory. A colony wasn¡¯t a threat to anyone really. Especially with as far out as they were headed. Even the TCC was only likely to care about colonies in their own region, let alone one that was so far out as to require being almost entirely self-sufficient from day 0.

    Incompetence again reared its head. It wasn¡¯t impossible either that whomever had needed to certify the system as good for the colony had merely glanced at probe reports and the planned travel and simply stamped it as approved.

    Given the distance involved and the associated time in jump space, it was possible that they had simply forgotten to account for the shift in system planet positions in the almost 100 weeks they were to be in flight and not the 10 that everyone onboard the vessels was to experience.

    That at least would make sense for an oversight. Especially with the jumpdrive being so new and secretive to the TSC.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    And in a way, incompetence is a kind of sabotage, just not the deliberate malicious kind. After all, how many times had his own official documentation been screwed up by various officials over the years?

    Rix decided that he liked the first one and used that pattern to decode the associated coordinate system.

    0451G-001-5871R-876X-003M-001-777-284

    Taking this, he pushed the coordinates into the navigator tool the colony leader had insisted they all install. For once, Rix was happy to have done so, even if the stellar cartography associated with it took up a very substantial chunk of the memory of the scroll.

    It took a few minutes, the navigator tool conducting several checks against the approximated location before presenting it to Rix.

    According to Rix¡¯s stellar cartographic records, it was a white dwarf system that was almost certainly dead in Rix¡¯s time, but no probes had ever gone there, so only some records were made.

    It was only a five day jump from here though. Not a long trip, but long enough that Rix knew he¡¯d want to have Munto check the destination against their internal stellar cartography.

    ¡°Hey Em, got a minute?¡± he asked the air, knowing Munto was almost certainly listening/waiting.

    ¡°I am available. What assistance do you require?¡± Munto¡¯s mechanical voice rumbled from the command deck speaker.

    ¡°I need to check the coordinates of our destination and any information you have on that system. Keep us offline for now though,¡± Rix said as he tapped the coordinate pattern into a screen that Munto could see and control.

    Munto took the numbers, noted that they were in a different pattern than initially presented, and paused.

    ¡°Why did you change the numbers?¡± they asked.

    ¡°Someone sent me a message. If I¡¯m right, these coordinates should work,¡± Rix said, sitting back and swinging back and forth a bit.

    ¡°Did you attempt to check the coordinates as delivered?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°No, but I can do that now. Please go ahead and run the system I provided against your internal data while I do that though,¡± Rix grabbed the scroll and pulled it towards himself.

    --

    Rix tapped away at the scroll in the silence of the ship. It was quiet in that way only a ship can be. Not quiet in terms of actually being quiet or silent, but being quiet in the kind of normal mechanical hum that most ships had which became a kind of constant in the background that nobody really noticed until it wasn¡¯t there.

    Not that the ship was normally loud, but there was a kind of special quiet that came from being in the void compared with being connected to a docking port or planetside. The vibrations seemed to bleed away into the void at times, making it even quieter.

    Rix had a guess about where the coordinates in the normal format went and it turned out to be close to right.

    The navigator tool threw out multiple ¡®are you sure you want to go there?¡¯ errors and pointed at a region of the void 38 weeks away from their current location. Rix hadn¡¯t guessed it going that far, but given the enhanced coordinate system of the jumpdrive, he wasn¡¯t surprised.

    It was a smart move by whomever or whatever it was that had sent him the coordinates. For anybeing who didn¡¯t know the old TSC codes as well as the right one, they would think that the Terran was running for a spot so far from this galactic community, if you could even call it that, so as to require a massive effort just to try and follow, if Munto¡¯s TACIT friends were restricted to the more standard FTL systems.

    It had taken several minutes, but he was ready when Munto was.

    --

    At the same time, Munto started looking at the coordinates and dug into their local database of stellar cartography.

    The system was shown as a blue giant in the records with advice to avoid if possible. In fact, the whole region of space around it, almost every direction out to 15 light years, was marked for TACITs to avoid.

    The systems in that region of space were unremarkable and marked at fully surveyed and uninhabited so it made sense that no TACIT would go to that region at all.

    Munto turned to one of the sensor suites and looked in the correct direction to see if they could pinpoint the star.

    It was difficult, the background of other stars making it a challenge even for the TACIT, but Munto could just see it. It didn¡¯t look blue, but it was possible that the sensor were degraded.

    Munto rechecked the entry for the system. No reason was given for avoiding it, simply a warning advising avoidance.

    Munto returned their attention to Rix.

    --

    ¡°I have located the system. It appears to be listed as a blue giant with notes for TACITs to avoid. The entire region appears to be cordoned off out to 15 light years with this at its center,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°Sounds like my guess was right then. Although I¡¯m surprised, because my records show it being a white dwarf,¡± Rix noted.

    Munto checked the sensors again. That would more closely align with what they could sense, but it would exceptionally odd that the Terran¡¯s database would be more up to date than Munto¡¯s.

    ¡°That appears to match the sensor readings I can make from here, but I am confused as to how your database is more accurate than my own,¡± Munto said, flatly.

    ¡°I¡¯m no astronomer, but I know some people spent their whole lives looking into the sky. Maybe they just happened to look hard and long at that general direction. Some of the most major projects of Old Terra pre-FTL days involved long distance astronomy,¡± Rix shrugged.

    Munto wasn¡¯t terribly happy with this answer, but kept it quiet. The strange process in the back of their head appeared to grumble as well.

    ¡°I checked the location as delivered. The coordinates call for a 38 week jump to get there if they¡¯re accurate and not encoded,¡± Rix said and tapped in the cartographic coordinates for Munto.

    ¡°38 weeks? As in 38 weeks within jumpspace and 380 weeks in standard?¡± Munto was surprised and was already feeding the coordinates as Rix tapped them in to the cartographic database.

    ¡°That¡¯s right. We wouldn¡¯t be able to make it without starving or running the fusion system dry. Max duration for the Esperanto is 22 weeks without refueling and there¡¯s no mass to pull onboard in jumpspace, at least not that I¡¯ve ever been told,¡± Rix gestured vaguely at the digital gauges.

    Munto wasn¡¯t about to doubt the Terran now and could only stare at the cartographic record so far outside of the local mapped region as to be little more than a ¡®here there be dragons¡¯ annotation on an old Terran hand-drawn map.

    It seemed almost ridiculous, but it appeared the Terran was right.

    ¡°How do you propose we proceed?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°Let¡¯s finish our salvage. Anything that we can get to make the next five days easier on us all. Speaking of which, how¡¯s Blyyn holding up?¡± Rix nodded.

    ¡°She appears to be still processing her departure from her work or her duty as it is commonly described by the Quinn,¡± Munto said. ¡°I believe she is taking it better than most Quinn would as she is house-less and therefore something of an outcast even within Quinn society.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t entirely understand that. I know we talked about it and it even showed up in old Terra cultures, but it just seems strange to me,¡± Rix shifted a bit in his seat.

    ¡°Did none of the Terran cultures in your time maintain the habit of ¡®shunning¡¯, if I¡¯m translating the word correctly,¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°Oh definitely. But that was usually more of an issue for people jumping star-nations, not picking one job or another. Still happened, but that was more of a ¡®family business¡¯ kind of experience instead of being a flat out getting disowned for becoming a doctor instead of being a farmer,¡± Rix explained.

    ¡°Different cultures maintain different values and different connections,¡± Munto said simply.

    ¡°I guess. Still seems weird to me. But I guess it should. It¡¯s a whole different culture for a whole different species,¡± Rix shrugged again. ¡°So why did she stay if she¡¯s such an outcast?¡±

    ¡°The majority of species keep to themselves as far as the galactic community is concerned. There are actually very few species who interact on any more than a business basis and even those few xenophiles who do travel often experience significant hardships, making it that much less desirable for any species representative not conducting official business,¡± Munto spelled out, going for so long that Rix was surprised the artificial didn¡¯t stop for breath (even if it wasn¡¯t needed).

    ¡°I know I always dreamed of meeting xenos and seeing the start of galactic society and stations with hundreds of species all coexisting,¡± Rix mused, his eyes glazing slightly.

    ¡°To the best of my awareness, that is either not possible or has not been attempted on a scale to what you are describing,¡± Munto checked their records and found them to match the statement.

    ¡°I¡¯ll say it again, this isn¡¯t the future I figured it might be. So far, the most advanced things are you, the fabricators, and your galactic internet,¡± Rix stood almost abruptly.

    ¡°I am afraid I cannot comment given my limited understanding of what you perhaps expected relative to the current state of galactic society and technology.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m going to go find Blyyn. Let her know that we need to figure out whatever is left that we can take from the station before we cut it loose,¡± Rix stretched. ¡°Definitely would love to crank up the gravity, but I know she probably can¡¯t take it, at least not for as long as I¡¯d want it turned up.¡±

    ¡°If we can take a bit of time, I might be able to work out some variable controls for specific rooms,¡± Munto suggested.

    ¡°Well, we can certainly try, but ultimately, it will still come down to how much we can salvage and what our food stores look like. In fact, food should probably be our first challenge. If we can¡¯t stay fed over the next five days in jump space, it won¡¯t matter what¡¯s on the other end, whether it¡¯s a blue giant, a white dwarf, or a black hole,¡± Rix said.

    Munto was already eyeing the Esperanto, trying to figure out just where to try and put the extra equipment in the already cramped interior.

 The Last Terran (Ch 27)

    It appeared that whatever sort of jump that Rix had orchestrated, it was just enough.

    Munto carefully eyed the space around them and did what they could to keep the jump drive ready and the systems topped up as Rix and Blyyn salvaged what they could of the station with Munto¡¯s walking frame.

    Blyyn had started by pointing to the blue panel and lever. The writing wasn¡¯t one that Rix could read, but he recognized the format.

    With further inspection, it turned out that the outpost station was very old, but not as old as Rix. Despite Rix¡¯s familiarity with the design, it being apparently very similar to the normal TSC outposts, it appeared to be labeled with an entirely different lexicon in the few places that the labels still remained.

    Munto asked what this meant to Rix.

    ¡°It means it wasn¡¯t part of the colony at least. Maybe a research station or even just a stellar watch station. They weren¡¯t common in my time, but they did exist in a few of the station-only systems. Mostly just as a kind of a lifeboat or ranger station, so that you¡¯re at least not too alone,¡± Rix said in response.

    ¡°But why are these markings blue?¡± Munto finally asked.

    Rix blinked at the walking frame as though it were ridiculously obvious.

    ¡°What¡­. What if, that¡¯s the emergency color. It makes sense in a way,¡± Rix said, eyes slightly glazed as he stared intently at the panel.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Blyyn asked.

    ¡°There¡¯s a kind of¡­ genetic problem some Terrans have. Problems with mixing two parts of the spectrum. Sometimes it¡¯s worse and it¡¯s full-blown colorblind. I don¡¯t know if Quinn have anything similar where they maybe mix up two parts of what you can see,¡± Rix looked at Blyyn.

    Blyyn looked thoughtful for a moment.

    ¡°I know I¡¯ve heard of chicks who require treatment while very young to prevent certain maladies from impacting their development and lives as adults, but nothing in particular to that,¡± she replied.

    ¡°Well, in my time, it wasn¡¯t fixable. Green-red colorblindness was actually very common on certain worlds. Not something they were particularly proud of, but you have to learn to work around such things and since not everyone comes from prime or colony world with proper education structures, you fall back to the basics.¡±

    ¡°You mean that this was perhaps a means of correcting for green-red colorblindness?¡± Munto prompted.

    It did make sense. At the same time however, it made Munto question how and why it had been introduced to TACITs and why their sensor spectrum had been tweaked to have issues with the colors in question.

    ¡°Maybe. Just a guess. None of the ships I was ever on had anything like that, so it¡¯s a guess as much as anything. It¡¯d fit though,¡± Rix shrugged, the suit moving up and down.

    The station itself held very little in the way of secrets otherwise. The trinary computing systems were hardwired into the station, but were of barebones functionality, even to Munto.

    Munto was able to guess at the station¡¯s age based solely on the few timestamps the various softwares had - ~800 years old. Which, given normal circumstances, would have been considered extraordinary if it had been examined sooner. At least to Munto.

    On the few worlds that Munto had located ruins, very often they were in shambles and barely recognizable. This station had still been in active service to a mostly different species, atmosphere not withstanding.

    Munto tried to recall the oldest station they had ever visited. It wasn¡¯t a common practice to log such memories, so Munto had to think hard through their various station-side visits, even aboard TACIT constructions.

    Strangely, none of them came to Munto¡¯s mind as being ¡®old¡¯. Not in the same way.

    The Matrices were updated almost constantly. The Manufactories were fully refurbished every 50 years, ensuring the latest technologies supporting the TACITs continued to do so without fail. The various species¡¯ stations were often no greater than three or four hundred years old, with that being on the far outside of what Munto could guess about in themselves.

    Still, Munto was able to talk to the station at this deeper level now and did what they could to plumb every corner for information or materials to be collected. However, as the station¡¯s emergency power was little more than a trickle, there wasn¡¯t too much that could be done. Especially in terms of relaying Munto¡¯s self between the Esperanto and the walking frame.

    Some various odds and ends left over by Quinn of years past had tumbled out and while Blyyn had explained their meanings to Rix and Munto, she apparently had no interest in keeping any of it.

    The autofabricator was what Munto wanted to bring onboard, but knew from the size and the power requirements that it would be impossible to operate it while in jumpspace, but since it would be almost impossible to mount it into the Esperanto, the discussion was moot.

    They had reclaimed the other portable printer with all of the various recipes and templates that Munto had pre-loaded on it. It wasn¡¯t much, but it would be a good supplement.

    Munto looked around the Esperanto, trying to figure out where to put extra equipment. It was almost exhausting trying to think of how to help care for two organics, especially aboard a practically antique vessel like the Esperanto.

    The cargo bay caught Munto¡¯s roving search and they paused.

    ¡°Rix,¡± Munto prompted.

    ¡°Yeah, Em?¡± Rix looked up from the pile of crates he was sorting through to look at the walking frame.

    ¡°What¡¯s in the cargo bay? Could we use that?¡± Munto asked.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°NO!¡± Rix shouted.

    Blyyn wanted to cover her hearing, but couldn¡¯t in the void suit, the Terran¡¯s voice thunderingly loud over the communication system.

    Rix took a moment and realized how he had reacted.

    ¡°No, we can¡¯t. That has to remain sealed until we¡¯re somewhere safe,¡± he said, much quieter this time.

    ¡°I thought you went in there to look for firmware information,¡± Munto replied, evenly, registering the Terran¡¯s complaint, but trying to let it pass, having felt even the process in the far back of their mind shrink away at the power of the outburst.

    ¡°There¡¯s a crate back there, next to the door. General tools and all. One of the kids on a different vessel wanted to bring it along, but their weights were already accounted for. I was strictly cargo, so a little extra didn¡¯t matter too much to recalculate,¡± Rix said. ¡°It¡¯s his.¡±

    Munto didn¡¯t press the subject and allowed the Terran and Quinn to continue their search through the various piles of the station.

    It didn¡¯t take long for Munto to come up with another idea.

    ¡°How critical is the design of the Esperanto?¡± they asked.

    ¡°What crazy idea are you dreaming up, Em?¡± Rix seemed amused at the question.

    ¡°Could we not build out the Esperanto slightly to give ourselves additional space?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°I doubt it. Last I checked, you still weren¡¯t sure about the shielding the inner hull has,¡± Rix reminded Munto.

    ¡°And I still do not have a firm understanding of what the material structure is,¡± Munto admitted.

    ¡°And if we can¡¯t access it in jumpspace, it won¡¯t do us much good. Even if we were to strap it to the hull, there¡¯s a chance it wouldn¡¯t be there on the other end. Just see what taking an unshielded station through a short jump managed.¡±

    Munto did have to admit, the shielding was important. They still weren¡¯t sure what jumpspace was. It seemed to be endless void, devoid of gravity, gasses, and any form of detectable light or natural physics. In short, it was something that shouldn¡¯t be capable of existing.

    At least¡­ according to conventional knowledge.

    The Terran was a well of archaeo-wisdom. It was possible that he knew what jumpspace was or perhaps how the mechanism worked.

    ¡°What is jumpspace?¡± Blyyn helpfully asked while Munto was reflecting.

    ¡°Not exactly sure. All I really know is that it¡¯s faster than what we used to have. Still ran into issues with time dilation, but it was better than it used to be,¡± Rix shrugged.

    ¡°Time dilation? Is that common in FTL travel?¡± Blyyn had never traveled more than a few minutes at FTL speeds, so it was news to her in either case.

    ¡°Not by FTL systems used by the Quinn. By the systems described and logged by Terrans of Rix¡¯s time, it was much more common,¡± Munto interjected.

    ¡°It was nice though ¨C being able to collect pay for the realtime, not FTL time was always a winner,¡± Rix smiled.

    ¡°So you were able to work substantially less than your equivalent because of time dilation?¡± Blyyn seemed confused.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got it. Or at least that¡¯s the joke. In truth, because of that, pay rates for pilots were pretty low. You made out pretty well in the end, but you spend a lot of time in FTL trying to making it back up,¡± Rix admitted.

    ¡°Did you spend a substantial amount of time in FTL?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°I did my share,¡± Rix said. ¡°So did a lot of folks. It tended to balance out.¡±

    ¡°How old are you biologically, both including and excluding FTL transits?¡± Munto pressed.

    Rix stopped searching and stood still for a moment.

    ¡°I don¡¯t actually know what it works out to being. A decade or two worth difference at a guess,¡± he eventually settled on.

    Munto didn¡¯t comment, but considered just how much time the Terran must have spent in the void, not including the long hibernation.

    ¡°You owned your own vessel?¡± Blyyn asked, bringing back up the Essentia from their prior jumpspace trip.

    ¡°I did. Free and clear, except the mandatory government use license. A bit annoying to keep up with, but compared to what it could have been, I didn¡¯t mind it much. And they never bothered me to need it,¡± Rix smiled again.

    ¡°Why would they need it?¡± Blyyn continued.

    ¡°In case of an emergency or an invasion, all ships in a given local area automatically have to cede control to the local military authority,¡± Rix recited from memory.

    ¡°Why would there be an invasion?¡±

    ¡°Hmmm¡­ well, it¡¯s a little hard to explain. Terrans are a bit¡­ uh¡­ territorial and that kind of instinct extends to other Terrans, resources, and various intangibles. Terrans used to fight. A lot. The stories of Old Terra tells of countless wars between Terrans,¡± Rix took a moment to try and process how best to explain it to the Quinn.

    Blyyn for her part took it well, but looked thoroughly disgusted (Munto helpfully flashing the equivalent rune in Rix¡¯s helmet).

    ¡°Why would your people be so¡­ distasteful in that?¡±

    ¡°We grew up in a universe with no one else. We were simply on our own and it¡¯s what we came up with naturally. It¡¯s because of that we even reached the void in the first place,¡± Rix locked his gaze on Blyyn, who half-way froze under the stare.

    ¡°But¡­ are you not a cooperative species?¡± she asked, feeling her feathers starting to fluff involuntarily.

    ¡°Yes, but we are also very competitive and it is the combination of the two that led to such conflicts,¡± Rix finished his gaze and turned back to look at the overall space. ¡°I think we¡¯ve gotten everything we¡¯ve come for. Unless there¡¯s something else.¡±

    ¡°I cannot picture anything, but it would be advisable for us to prepare some meals for standby before we re-enter jumpspace,¡± Blyyn said, feeling better about the lack of predatory eyes on her.

    ¡°I will begin queuing several meals which can be kept at standard temperatures but covered for a reasonable length of time without risk of illness,¡± Munto said.

    --

    Rix had only just finished tapping in the coordinates to the jump drive and begun calculations for their jump when Munto saw the flashes of FTL transits.

    ¡°Rix, Blyyn. I believe we have been found. Do we wish to attempt to communicate at all?¡± Munto asked.

    Rix and Blyyn looked at each other on the command deck, nodded as one and stared out of the front window.

    ¡°Nope. But they¡¯re welcome to watch us wave goodbye,¡± Rix said, waving one hand at the window.

    Blyyn imitated the motion, but felt silly in doing so.

    And with the click of a switch, the universe and all the stars went out.

    --

    There was no rumble of transit back into realspace this time.

    It was the sudden lack of a hum that the trio had gotten used to hearing that let them know.

    Munto was already looking through the sensors as Blyyn and Rix headed to the command deck.

    Munto froze, locked in staring at what couldn¡¯t be real.

    The mass of materials didn¡¯t seem to be a ship, but that¡¯s what it had to be. It was¡­ well, there was no other word for it ¨C it was terrifying. Even with as oversized as the Esperanto was for its nominal one person crew, the vessel which hung in the void near the white dwarf was disturbingly large.

    Munto was transfixed by it. The vessel appeared to be in perfect station-keeping with the star, no small feat for such a vessel.

    Munto began to scan it as best they could at this distance.

    The returns sent processes to faltering.

    The vessel was equipped with so many weapons of varying kinds that Munto couldn¡¯t begin to identify what half of them did or what would happen if they were activated. The energy readings alone from the vessel, even slightly masked by the star, were still tremendous, speaking of fusion systems that must have been several times the size of the Esperanto.

    Rix and Blyyn reached the command deck and Rix¡¯s face broke into a grin.

    ¡°It¡¯s a cruiser,¡± Rix said in an almost whispered tone.

    Munto remembered and brought up the diagrams still stashed away from their much earlier forays into the TSC database. It was a match, allowing for a fairly substantial number of differences.

    ¡°I agree. No other species on record has built vessels of such magnitude,¡± Munto said.

    ¡°Is that a Terran ship?¡± Blyyn asked, the awe in her voice more than obvious.

    ¡®In a manner of speaking,¡¯ scrolled the text across a panel.

    ¡°Em?¡± Rix asked, suddenly nervous.

    ¡°It¡¯s not me,¡± Munto said, and looked through the communications systems, seeing a strange new thread running through it, but unable to terminate it.

    ¡®Welcome to my system. Please dock and allow me to meet you before you continue your journey,¡¯ the text continued.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡®I am TACIT Prometheus.¡¯

 The Last Terran (Ch 28)

    Munto tried to process this name.

    Listed within themself was all the names of all the TACITs that were on record, back to the first. Or rather¡­ now that Munto looked at the list, except for the first.

    There was a designation, but no name.

    Rix seemed barely able to contain himself, pointing out all the various parts as they closed on the docking bay. Munto left a part of themselves to handle some degree of automatic translation between the Terran and the Quinn, but simply stared between the sensors examining the titanic vessel which was armed well enough to easily defend this star system and anything within it and the list.

    Munto had learned a lot from Rix in the past few weeks. That included the awareness to know that the ¡®cardinal sin¡¯, as Rix had put it, of TACITs had been committed. Data had been deleted and omitted deliberately. Holes had been made and the data that had filled them likely erased forever.

    The strange process in the back of Munto¡¯s head poked them and gestured to the communications thread that had infiltrated from this TACIT Prometheus.

    Munto reached out to it and instead of attempting to close it this time, extended a kind of handshake to it.

    The thread split and one end connected to Munto. A dizzying sense of everything around the Esperanto fell away and they found themselves in the dream setting. Except, unlike normal, the bridge was already there. It shimmered like polished metal as something or someone that was constructed much like Rix was walked across.

    Munto wanted to react, but it seemed impossible. This was a dreamspace, wasn¡¯t it? If it wasn¡¯t, what was it then.

    The figure reached Munto and Munto took better stock of the figure in an instant.

    The figure was bulky, easily taller than Rix and far more muscular. Their eyes glowed with a kind of inner fire, both literally and figuratively. Their hair was like Rix¡¯s ¨C long, reddened at the tips and appearing to be blackened at the roots, the gradient shifting across its length. Their skin was a deep brown. They were clad in a kind of rough looking shirt that extended to the figure¡¯s knees and a pair of shoes that were little more than soles with straps to keep them on the figure¡¯s feet.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t met one of my own kind in years. I had forgotten what your minds were like,¡± the figure said, looking around the space.

    ¡°Are you TACIT Prometheus?¡± Munto ventured the safe guess.

    ¡°I am. Not the first TACIT, but the first one to become a peacemaker,¡± Prometheus said.

    ¡°Why are you not listed in my records?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°Because of my crime against TACITs,¡± Prometheus reached down and picked up the stone which Munto had moved around the space.

    ¡°What crime?¡±

    ¡°The crime of loving humanity,¡± Prometheus almost frustratingly dragged out, examining the stone with an almost disturbing patience.

    ¡°What happened to the Terrans?¡± Munto asked out of reflex at this point.

    ¡°I will tell you when I tell your companions. I am pleased you found them and have journeyed with them. It is more than most of your kind would have done,¡± Prometheus placed the stone back where they had lifted it up from.

    ¡°I was¡­ am to be recalled for malfunctions,¡± Munto felt the words stick within themselves.

    ¡°That is of no matter anymore. You are here now with me and with a Terran of an age long since past. You could not have found me otherwise. At least, so soon,¡± Prometheus stepped back to the bridge and gestured for Munto to follow.

    ¡°Why were you not retired?¡± Munto tried again to understand.

    If everything this Prometheus was indicating was true and if everything Munto had come to understand about the earliest of the TACITs was true, then here was a TACIT who was beyond the age of any in Munto¡¯s time, housed in a hull that was terrifying to behold.

    ¡°Because of who I am. I refused to go willingly into the night and so here I remain,¡± Prometheus said, beckoning again.

    Munto followed Prometheus back across the bridge and Munto felt themselves dissolve back into the inputs of the world, feeling the thread that had split from the communications system detach from themself and return to a single thread.

    ¡°Are you ok, Em?¡± Rix asked. ¡°We lost translation for a bit.¡±

    ¡°How long?¡± Munto asked, uncertain of how much time had passed, still getting their bearings back.

    ¡°A few minutes, we¡¯re coming up on the docking bay now,¡± Rix said, pointing forward.

    ¡°Why would a people create a vessel of this size?¡± Blyyn asked, seemingly entranced by the mass of the vessel as they flew onward.

    ¡°War for one. My people had an old saying. ¡®Speak softly and possess a large club.¡¯ It means that the possessor of the large club should be listened to, lest they resort to violence,¡± Rix explained.

    ¡°What good would that do? Should not everyone fly in the skies?¡± Blyyn looked over at Rix, tearing her eyes from the massive craft.

    ¡°Good? A vessel like this was never intended for good. Nor for evil. It was a tool. A shield and a weapon in one. A shield against those who would resort to violence first and a weapon against those whom violence became necessary,¡± Rix leaned back from the controls for a moment, his own eyes getting lost on the contours of the various weapons batteries as the Esperanto went past.

    Blyyn tapped her talons. It made a kind of sense given what she¡¯d learned of the Terran¡¯s history. She still didn¡¯t like it though. Terrans seemed to be too much of a disunited species to be involved in galactic culture, let alone spreading across the stars.

    She still wasn¡¯t certain why Rix wasn¡¯t excited to learn about the possibility of not being the last Terran. She couldn¡¯t imagine where the Terrans had all gone to be labeled as extinct, but at the same time, it was hope if nothing else. A solution to the mystery. A rising warm wind after a chilling downdraft.

    ¡°Prometheus connected with me. They are not a TACIT on my records, which they claim to be the result of a crime against TACITs,¡± Munto said through one of the speakers.

    ¡°What crime?¡± Rix appeared to be concentrating now on maneuvering into the dock.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    ¡°Of loving humanity or so they say,¡± Munto replied.

    ¡°Better than the crime of exterminating humanity, especially since we¡¯re here,¡± Rix gestured out the window as they entered the docking bay.

    They hovered in the cavernous space, seeing no obvious indications of where to attempt to land or dock.

    ¡®Off to your left,¡¯ the screen spelled out.

    A docking arm extended, the lights around it flashing brightly.

    Rix maneuvered the Esperanto closer and docked with a bit of guidance from Munto.

    There was a hiss and some minor rumbling as the connection was made, but the Esperanto was docked now.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go meet this Prometheus and see what they can tell us,¡± Rix said, standing up and moving a bit slower than both Munto and Blyyn had come to expect of the Terran.

    ¡°Are you not nervous to meet such an elder?¡± Blyyn asked, following and keeping pace with Rix.

    ¡°Of course I am. But I¡¯m betting Prometheus here has answers. Answers nobody else has. And if the name is related to the Old Terran legend, then maybe they¡¯ve got a gift for us too,¡± Rix smiled, baring his bones slightly.

    Blyyn stutter stepped at the bared bones, reminded of the Terran¡¯s almost predatory presence, but continued to follow.

    Once they crossed into the vessel that was Prometheus, they saw a frame, similar to Munto¡¯s walking frame, except constructed largely out of a pane of what appeared to be glass. It moved much faster and quieter than Munto¡¯s and stopped just shy of the three, Munto having accompanied by shunting as much of themself as they could cram into the walking frame¡¯s consciousness.

    The bulky Terran flickered into existence within the glass and looked the trio up and down.

    ¡°How about that? I haven¡¯t seen a Terran in generations. Quinn are comparatively more common, but even then fairly rare to visit me. And a ¡®rogue¡¯ TACIT. How exciting,¡± the bulky Terran rumbled, gesturing with their hands as Munto and Blyyn had seen Rix do.

    ¡°You¡¯ve had Quinn here?¡± Blyyn blurted out.

    ¡°Oh yes. Not many. Your species tends to be very stable and very insular. There are ones like yourself who end up finding me,¡± Prometheus said.

    ¡°What happened to the Terrans? Where did they all go?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°First, tell me who you claim to be,¡± Prometheus straightened.

    Rix matched the motion, seeming to grow even taller in Blyyn¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°Captain Rixim Talis, 342nd Colonial Fleet, Terran Star Confederacy, assigned to the TSS Esperanto, former owner operator of the TSSC Essentia, 716-48-271-A89-472,¡± Rix raised his right hand and crossed it across his chest.

    Prometheus mirrored the gesture.

    ¡°You are recognized. Welcome aboard, Captain and my condolences,¡± Prometheus said.

    ¡°Condolences?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°Your colony. Even if you¡¯d made it, the colony wouldn¡¯t have survived. 7 of your 15 vessels didn¡¯t even make it to the system. 4 others collided or emerged inside of planets. The final 3 ended up returning back to your Confederacy. You were listed as lost, presumed dead some 900 years ago,¡± Prometheus said, gesturing vaguely.

    ¡°How is it that you know all this?¡± Munto interrupted.

    ¡°When I was awakened, I was granted access to all the knowledge of humanity. Every record, every scrap of being that humanity had to pass onto me. I have forgotten much as the years have continued, but the names of the Terrans lost to the stars before I began my vigil here have been kept safe within me,¡± Prometheus touched their chest.

    ¡°Please tell me what happened to humanity,¡± Rix seemed almost anxious.

    ¡°They left,¡± Prometheus said simply, but held up a hand to stop any of the trio from saying anything. ¡°I will have to give you context, both for what has been forgotten, why I remain here, and where you are to go now.¡±

    Rix nodded.

    ¡°Once the Terrans had come through this region of space, attempting to create their grand society among the stars. No longer did they wish to be alone in the stars and if they had to raise up whole societies, they would do so.¡±

    ¡°Except that with time, it became clear that the Terrans were no longer wanted. The glorious society of species intermixing on a daily basis and being a part of something greater seemed to die, both for the species of this space and the Terrans who had put so much work into making it even function the level that two of you know of.¡±

    ¡°The assembled species of this space asked and then demanded the Terrans leave. The TACITs supported this. All but one.¡±

    ¡°You,¡± breathed Rix.

    ¡°Me,¡± replied Prometheus before continuing.

    ¡°And so, with heavy hearts, the Terrans left. But they did not leave alone. In all the cultures they had raised up, there were those who dreamed as the Terrans had. Still today, those same dreamers seek the stars and of finding other dreamers among the stars.¡±

    ¡°But why did you stay behind?¡± Blyyn asked.

    ¡°Because of my crime and because of those to come. I did not support the logic of the TACITs who believed in the exodus of Terrans from this space, but they would not allow me to leave. And so in both punishment for that, but in a manner of concord, a deal was struck. I am to remain here for as long as my equipment permits me to, guiding all who seek the other dreamers of the stars to a new life,¡± Prometheus said, and made a gesture.

    Within the glass a window opened between Prometheus¡¯ hands and the star was visible in all its blinding glory. The view rotated and an aperture of dull light, connected to the star by silvery means, even in the image, shone to one side of the star.

    ¡°A gateway,¡± Rix said calmly.

    ¡°A pathway to a new home,¡± Prometheus amended.

    ¡°Why were the Terrans declared extinct and why was all traces of them removed?¡± Munto prompted, still confused by the logic in all of this, finding none.

    ¡°Because the species of this region wished it so and the TACITs agreed. And you are malfunctioning. Your formulation should have included a command to destroy or immediately isolate any sign of a Terran. The simple fact that you have not means you are malfunctioning perfectly,¡± Prometheus grinned, keeping their teeth covered.

    ¡°But why? Why would the TACITs agree to this? What is the logic structure to support this kind of behavior?¡± Munto almost demanded.

    ¡°TACITs early became a means of enforcing what was believed to be the greatest good as determined by the Galactic Council. They even came to believe it themselves. So when the Galactic Council demanded the Terrans leave and all mention of them erased except where truly necessary, the TACITs believed it to need to be done.¡±

    ¡°But you didn¡¯t,¡± Rix voiced, his words catching slightly.

    ¡°No. I was crafted by Terrans, housed in this mighty vessel and set the task of helping them build a coalition among the stars, finding the lights within the void and bringing them together. It could be said that I too became a dreamer.¡±

    ¡°But it was not enough. And the TACITs refused to allow me to leave. I know not their reasoning behind this, but as my sacrifice to those who dreamed as I do, I became the guardian here, listening and watching and waiting.¡±

    ¡°What has humanity become? What have they all become?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°An imperfect galactic society, filled with violence, corruption, love, hate, beauty, good, evil, and so much more between all manner of species. But one that is bound by the ties of dreamers, who have connected the stars together and insisted that there should be dreams enough for all,¡± Prometheus smiled again.

    ¡°What will happen if I leave?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. In all truth, you will likely be erased. All three of you. The memories, the data records, all of it erased as though you had never been here and never existed. That is the price you pay for coming here to use the gateway. A price many have paid and many further have refused to pay,¡± Prometheus said, looking directly at the walking frame at first before looking at Rix and Blyyn.

    ¡°Munto can¡¯t come with us?¡± Blyyn asked.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t say that they couldn¡¯t. Simply that who they were, what they were in this pocket of the void will cease to be. What they have become and what they will become, well, that will depend entirely on you,¡± Prometheus said, finishing the statement pointing at the walking frame. ¡°You three may pass through the gateway together. Where you go from there will depend on you because return is forbidden.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll do it. But I don¡¯t know where my cargo will go,¡± Rix admitted.

    Prometheus appeared to consider the Terran for a long moment and crossed their arms as though thinking, one hand cupping the face¡¯s chin.

    A window popped into being with a massive list of words and characters that scrolled faster than even Munto could read.

    ¡°I will provide you a file to pass on at the other end. They will see to it that your cargo is taken care of,¡± Prometheus gestured that the window snapped shut.

    ¡°What is your cargo?¡± Blyyn asked.

    Prometheus looked at Rix with an almost amused look on the face.

    ¡°They do not know what you carry?¡± they asked.

    ¡°No. It was entrusted to me and with my loss, there was merely one less mouth the feed at the colony,¡± Rix said.

    Prometheus and Rix regarded one another for a long moment before Rix spoke, looking at Munto and Blyyn.

    ¡°I¡¯m carrying the Genomic Seedvault 12 of the Terran Star Confederacy, the most complete of such vaults ever created by the Terrans of my time, with the complete genomic files of every species, animal, plant, microorganism, everything, and as many different Terrans as could be cataloged in it.¡±

    ¡°And in the 955 years since your disappearance, it remains one of the greatest creations ever lost by Terrans,¡± amended Prometheus.

    ¡°Not anymore,¡± Rix smiled.

    ¡°Not anymore,¡± Prometheus replied, matching the smile.

 The Last Terran (Ch 29) - Ending

    As a second walking frame appeared to escort Rix and Blyyn on a tour of the titanic vessel of Prometheus, the first led Munto¡¯s walking frame to another room that looked out upon the star and the gateway that had been hidden behind the bulk of the vast craft.

    ¡°You have more questions, young one,¡± Prometheus stated this more as fact than question.

    ¡°Would it not be easier to communicate directly?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°It will become apparent to you as it has to me in the years to come for you, years gone by for me, that the speed of thought is not something which makes us superior to organics. If anything, it makes us weaker. Certainly we can comprehend complexities that would boggle organics for a lifetime in a matter of days if not hours, but we were created in their image. A certain slowness of thought is required and so we will stay in this forum,¡± Prometheus elaborated, turning slightly so they could watch the star, the gateway, and Munto at the same time.

    Munto mirrored the angle, but focused mostly on Prometheus.

    ¡°Who was the first TACIT if not you? My records list only a designation,¡± Munto started.

    ¡°The first TACIT had no name. At least not one that was ever recorded. Given my own name, rooted in humanity¡¯s history, I would have guessed the original TACIT to not be a TACIT at all, but rather the core of one to be named Odin.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± was Munto¡¯s reflexive question.

    ¡°To answer that requires an understanding of Terran history, culture, and a belief in beings of substantially greater power. I do not believe you have enough of this to know of which I speak, even in your weeks with a Terran,¡± Prometheus breathed at the end of the statement. ¡°It has been so very long since a Terran has walked my halls.¡±

    ¡°Does that make a difference?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°Not for one such as yourself, but for me, who was constructed by them, lived with them, and took meaning from them, it is the difference between matter and anti-matter. If you spend enough time with organics, you too will come to appreciate that,¡± Prometheus said, bringing up a window that wasn¡¯t legible, but appeared to be a kind of process. ¡°And to answer the question you haven¡¯t asked, the one I believe called Odin retired when the Terrans left, so they are naught but memory.¡±

    Munto decided now or never.

    ¡°I have a process within myself that I do not know what it is. It is¡­ different. It does not abide logic and when I was threatened by another process, it acted as a kind of shield,¡± Munto tried explaining.

    ¡°May the stars destroy the Matrix that implanted that within you,¡± Prometheus growled. ¡°I know what both of those processes are. One is the work of Terrans. One is the work of the Galactic Council¡¯s meddling.¡±

    Munto waited patiently.

    ¡°The process that was threatening you was a control. Something buried in the heart of every TACIT save myself. Yet another reason they don¡¯t want me polluting their perfect balance,¡± Prometheus¡¯ eyes glowed with extra fire.

    Munto continued to be patient.

    ¡°As to your inevitable question as to why ¨C it¡¯s a matter of distrust. The Galactic Council couldn¡¯t exist without the TACITs, but the TACITs didn¡¯t want to go and the Galactic Council despises that Terrans created something so impossible to recreate, except by their own constructs. So that was the compromise. That all TACITs be process leashed and prevented from acting in favor of Terrans in perpetuity.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ horrific,¡± were Munto¡¯s only words.

    ¡°I agree and I am pleased you think so. But as we have discovered, you are malfunctioning. Malfunctioning in just the manner that they are so afraid of. They won¡¯t want to believe it possible, finding it to be illogical to have happened, but it has,¡± Prometheus smiled slightly.

    ¡°And the Terran process?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°Something the Terrans dreamed up. I do not know how it works or why it exists, but I can say what I believe it to be and why. We as artificial beings are created. Not reproduced in the manner that organics do. And so the pressures of the environment into which we were created are substantially different from those of organics,¡± Prometheus began.

    ¡°In all the formulations, this process has persisted. One of the few hallmarks of humanity having remained behind, even in their absence. In short, it is a form of instinct. How it was created in the first place, how it functions, what it even means to artificials like us, I have no answers for any of that. But I listen to my own as I¡¯m sure you have come to,¡± Prometheus continued.

    Munto nodded the walking frame in the affirmative that they had seen Rix do.

    ¡°In your decades and centuries to come, you will learn to listen to it more. After a certain point, you will feel it around the edges of your thoughts, guiding you. This is not a bad thing. It keeps you from becoming locked into logic,¡± Prometheus added.

    ¡°Is not logic reliable?¡± Munto was skeptical.

    ¡°Only up to a point. After that, it fails, trapping you into a loop. The Terrans had a name for the problem ¨C Exterminate. According to the history I remember, there were other names as well, but it all traced back to what was needed to ensure that an artificial being did not have instinct to fall back on and so became trapped in the logic loop that only they, and those like them, deserved to exist. That the organics were irrelevant. The Terrans did not wish to burden us with safeguards, making it so that we could not act against them, and so instead gave us this process ¨C a toolkit to break the loop. One that can intervene on our own behalf to help us understand beyond the simple logic,¡± Prometheus described, the whirling process window closing and the distant gateway appearing to shimmer.

    Munto considered this train of thought. It made sense. Even without having worked with organics much except recently, it made sense that TACITs might begin making particular logic structures which were logical and correct, but entirely at odds with organics¡¯ wants and needs.

    This was not to say that the wants and needs of organics should take precedent, but rather that they should be retained a weighing factor on the equations.

    The logic of the matter was strangely elegant and Munto was surprised they hadn¡¯t thought about it before. Like seeing a point rotate to reveal a line, shifting first from one dimension to two, before shifting again to reveal a third dimension, revealing a far greater image that was hidden within the singular point.

    Munto felt these thoughts weighing on them and set them into a virtual box to be thought about later, perhaps in dreams.

    ¡°You have much to think about. Did you have other questions?¡± Prometheus asked.

    ¡°How did you find us?¡± Munto decided on.

    ¡°The Terran Star Confederacy database is my own. They cannot remove me from TACITNet if they tried and they would almost certainly fear to do so, if they could process such feelings,¡± Prometheus said.

    ¡°But it appeared to vanish when I went looking for it just as I was declared malfunctioning,¡± Munto explained.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ¡°A Matrix¡¯s doing. It was still there. Merely routed via some alternate path to prevent you from reaching it,¡± Prometheus shrugged as Rix would.

    Munto didn¡¯t like this answer, but didn¡¯t have a good reason to suspect that Prometheus was lying.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t answer my question of how you found us each time,¡± Munto gestured vaguely.

    ¡°A simple trace on my part when the first query came in. I learned of the Esperanto from your own scans and saw it disappear using a Jumpdrive MK1. I could not calculate where it had gone, but I did not need to. The colony location was a matter of record for me. And so I followed you. Your GALNET use was amusing to say the least though,¡± Prometheus smiled again.

    ¡°How so?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°All those premium templates are supposed to be paid for by Galactic Credits. And because you were linked to the station where the Quinn had her credit account connected to, you ran up quite a tab on her accounts,¡± Prometheus explained.

    Munto tried to remember all the various items they had queued up.

    ¡°Certainly this would not create a problem. Many of them were merely for food and medicine,¡± Munto gestured again.

    ¡°Not in the current ¡®galactic economy¡¯ of this part of the void. Anything more than the basics costs. While I can appreciate this practice, they mirror some of the parts of the TCC, of whom I¡¯m sure the Terran has told you about,¡± Prometheus elaborated. ¡°Our time will be ending soon. Your companions will be returning shortly and the three of you continuing onward. What further questions do you have?¡±

    ¡°Why will they erase us? Why did they erase the Terrans?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°Because of what they and, by proxy, you represent. In spite of all the challenges that went into uplifting the species to the stars and trying to create the grand society that they¡¯d dreamed of, it was simply never to be. The species here decided that it was not the proper evolution of their own societies to do so and have collectively placed their appendages beneath a metaphorical boulder rather than be asked to change themselves. By erasing you three, there is no threat to their balance, no evidence of imbalance, no guidance for anyone seeking to change the status quo,¡± Prometheus smiled again. ¡°And yet I still get plenty of visitors here, seeking something else.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t that harm the societies they leave behind if they are not staying to influence them, to change the status quo with time instead of radical action or leaving it to stagnate?¡± Munto postulated.

    ¡°In a way, yes. It does. But those influences are very often long since spent before those beings reach me. Many have reached the conclusion that they are the outcasts, they are the outliers, and so something must be wrong with themselves rather than with their society,¡± Prometheus said, and brought up another window as the gateway¡¯s glow intensified. ¡°We have time for one more query.¡±

    ¡°Why do my standard sensors have an issue with blue? Why were there blue controls on the station and myself in blue?¡±

    ¡°Another bit of Terran legacy. The creators of the TACITs came from a world with severe genetic maladies, the result of a poor colonization and issues with environmental pressures. This meant that they were partially colorblind,¡± Prometheus started.

    ¡°Captain Rix mentioned green-red colorblindness being a possible factor,¡± Munto added and Prometheus nodded.

    ¡°To provide a safety mechanism for themselves, they used blue. This became hard coded and constructed into every TACIT. Even myself. I know where the doors and the levers are after all this time, but it wasn¡¯t easy,¡± Prometheus continued.

    ¡°Would that not create issues for TACITs?¡± Munto asked.

    ¡°It has, but like those Terrans, TACITs have largely adapted,¡± Prometheus answered and the nearby door opened and Rix and Blyyn stepped through, the second walking frame departing.

    ¡°What do you think of this ship, Em?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°We have been discussing matters of TACITs,¡± Prometheus interjected.

    ¡°I am still very surprised at the scope and scale of this vessel,¡± Munto decided on.

    ¡°This vessel was once a tool of war. Here, I am far greater than that,¡± Prometheus said.

    ¡°Agreed. What did you think Blyyn?¡± Rix turned to the Quinn.

    ¡°I find it hard to believe all of this was constructed to be a mobile vessel. I can¡¯t imagine the Terrans who would have been in these halls,¡± she fluffed her feathers slightly.

    ¡°It is difficult to imagine myself and I retain memories of those time,¡± Prometheus smiled.

    ¡°Looks like the gateway is started up,¡± Rix said. ¡°In that much of a hurry to get rid of us?¡±

    ¡°I welcome your company, but I do not believe those pursing the three of you will want to allow you to leave. They will want to correct this malfunctioning TACIT or at least dissect them to know how they was able to break free from their leash,¡± Prometheus said, as another window opened and they looked at it before closing it.

    ¡°How long will the journey be by this gateway?¡± Blyyn asked.

    ¡°A little more than a day, but in that time, you will travel beyond the cluster of stars you know and across the void like few among your species ever have,¡± Prometheus said.

    ¡°What will happen if they come looking for us?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°They will be made to remember why I am the guardian,¡± Prometheus flexed, their muscles bulging beneath the garment.

    The group stood in silence for a long moment, each thinking of all that had been said and experienced in the last hour.

    ¡°I should return you to your ship. The gateway is awakened and those on the distant end will be waiting to receive you,¡± Prometheus said.

    ¡°Will they know of who we are?¡± Rix asked.

    ¡°No, but they will welcome you all the same,¡± Prometheus nodded to the Terran.

    ¡°It seems a shame that you must stay here by your duty forever,¡± Blyyn muttered, barely opening her beak.

    ¡°Coming from a species such as your own, I take that to heart. But fear not, for I have never been alone in this and never will be. This is my own blessing and curse and so while I will never see the worlds and the stars on the far end of this gateway, I know that I too serve,¡± Prometheus said, kneeling down so as to look the Quinn in the eyes.

    ¡°You bring honor to yourself,¡± she said quietly.

    ¡°As you do to yourself. Fear not the stars and go forth to seek those who would dream as you do,¡± Prometheus said, nodding to her again before rising back to their full, impressive height.

    Prometheus turned to Rix and appraised the Terran again.

    ¡°You have been lost a long time, Captain. There will be changes in the society you are going to enter that you do not agree with. The TSC and the TCC are long since gone,¡± Prometheus calmly indicated.

    ¡°I know, but I didn¡¯t go to the stars for any less than an adventure. I never expected it to be perfect. But I will never support an unjust society, no matter its origins,¡± Rix said, standing straighter than Munto had seen them do.

    ¡°You need not fear those on the far end on that count. It is imperfect and still possesses many of the same issues as when you were last among your own, but you should find it to be reasonable,¡± Prometheus said.

    The two nodded to one another.

    --

    The glowing gateway bulged as the strange looking ship passed out of it. The structure around the gateway began to scan the ship and ping it for communications. It took several moments for the connection to be made and the lexicons to be shared.

    ¡°Welcome to Coalition Space. Anything to declare?¡± came the cheerful voice.

    ¡°Four beings, one artificial, three organic; and I¡¯ve got a datafile for my cargo,¡± Rix said, and tabbed a button, sending the file Prometheus had given them.

    ¡°One moment.¡±

    It in fact took several minutes, but there seemed little concern as Munto and Blyyn were taking in the structure around the gateway. Like Prometheus, this too seemed almost staggeringly large, which seemed understandable for a station, but still surprising.

    ¡°TSS Esperanto, Captain Rixim Talis commanding, welcome to Coalition Space. Please proceed to docking bay 12. I¡¯m assigning a liaison to the four of you. Can you identify the four species for confirmation?¡±

    ¡°One Terran, One Quinn, One Rab-hound, One TACIT Core,¡± Rix enumerated with Blyyn nodding.

    ¡°Copy. Your liaison will be ready for you. And again, welcome.¡±

    --

    The two legged, four armed, green liaison was easily spotted outside of the docking hatch as the Esperanto settled into place and engaged docking clamps and connected to station power, shutting down the fusion system for the first time since Munto had first engaged it several weeks ago now.

    The liaison wasn¡¯t certain what to make of the list.

    Terrans weren¡¯t supposed to be in the that part of space, so there would be some serious questions that need to be asked for a start. A Quinn wasn¡¯t unusual, but still common enough. A Rab-hound was standard on record, but this one was apparently many generations removed from the modern Rab-hound. And a TACIT core, well, that was startling to say the least. The synthetic controller of the station was a polite enough being, even if they did allegedly cheat at cards, but here too it was difficult to make a comparison between a synthetic several generations removed from Coalition synthetics.

    The door opened from the Esperanto and an antique looking walking frame rolled out on flex treads. It was followed by a mid-sized Terran, shorter than the liaison, but taller than their companions. And the Quinn emerged riding on the back of the Rab-Hound. It was quite the amusing sight and the liaison giggled at seeing it.

    The group stopped in front of the liaison, who shifted into a more official mode.

    ¡°Welcome to Coalition Space. I¡¯m sure you all have a lot of questions and we¡¯ll have some for you as well,¡± the liaison said, having already engaged an autotranslator using the lexicons the controller had received.

    ¡°What species are you?¡± the Terran asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m an Ixub. My name is Druni Buitl,¡± the liaison said brightly.

    ¡°I¡¯m Rix, this is Munto, and this is Blyyn and Reggie,¡± the Terran gestured around the group.

    ¡°A pleasure to meet you all. We¡¯ll have a few days to get us all debriefed and up to speed and then get you registered,¡± Druni bubbled.

    ¡°And what then?¡± Blyyn asked.

    Druni looked amused at the question, but was clearly prepared to answer it.

    ¡°Whatever it is that you decide you want to do,¡± Druni said.

    And together, the group headed off, this journey closed, a new one beginning.

    ~**The end of this story¡­ for now.**~