The Secrets' Crusade

"Let me ask you again." You held up the item you'd been given shortly after your return from Sol. Your free hand was half-held in a motion of pure frustration, and the roughness in your voice was audible even to you. "Do you know what this is?"

"I must prote-," the aide at the desk in front of you began. There were several small, gilded frames mounted on the wall behind them. Marks of recognition, scattered across decades, but you couldn't bring yourself to care right now. You brought your full hand down until the emblazoned crest inside the diamond of its construction was clearly opposite their right eye.

"Do you know," you ground out. Why had you thought it a good idea to stay here, deal with the bureaucrats that had been the reason you'd found Enigma in the first place? "What this is?"

Because Kendl, you told yourself as your the aide blinked several times, focusing on the crest. You are the only Strand who could effectively explain exactly how absurd the capabilities of our new friends are.

Given that you were still struggling to believe the message you were on the way to delivering, it had been the right choice. Didn't mean you had to like it.

"That is–" The aide's mottled skin flushed - an anxiety response, you recalled. Was it the lack of handsigns making you so irritable? You might have to apologise later; the Ilyura didn't have the manipulator function for those during their Midyear phase. You saw it the moment they recognised the seal, however.

For a moment there was silence, then the reflexes that those awards on the wall had come from kicked in. The Ilyuran swept a wide hand across the desk, the motion hiding a flurry of keypresses, and the air in the room went hazy. You recognised the security field, and made a note to ensure that it was updated. It was only one generation behind optimal, but given what was going to be passing through these offices in the near future, that wasn't acceptable.

A moment later, the office aide was holding out a scanner. It wasn't every day that someone walked into high office with a Seal of the Community in their hand. Given that there were a grand total of three such items in existence, and Enigma had never used theirs before, it wasn't entirely surprising that you'd been stonewalled a little.

The Seals were similar enough in their outward designs to be recognised by someone who knew the others. Where they differed was the codes embedded throughout their structure. Electronic, molecular, atomic, they even had a direct, physical component. Each code was unique, and they changed every time they were scanned, slowly destroying the Seal until only a featureless cube remained.

The scanner chirped, but to their credit, the aide's nervous flush did not increase. They straightened instead, and a primary manipulator dropped the device back into place.

"How might the Offices of Sovereignty support the Community?" It was the customary response, and the right one. The steadiness of the aide's voice was no less impressive for their previous obstructionism.

"I must speak with the full select group," you replied, retrieving the Seal. You made a handsign for thanks, fusing it into a composite for immediate need. You would have said more, but not from behind a merely optimal security screen.

"Of course." The aide nodded, touching a half-dozen connection sets. There was, you admitted grudgingly, a reason why the Ilyura made up roughly a third of the Community's bureaucratic structure. Stubborn sticklers they certainly were, but they were also utterly unflappable. "This way, Emissary."

It helped that the Midyear phase of the species had a level of innate ability to process data fit to rival early VIs. The result of stack technology proliferating after they'd joined the Community had been easy to predict. And, though few knew it, much of why the Community's intelligence apparatus had fought so hard to defeat Shiplord interference to their membership.

"Thank you."

The senior aide gestured, and a guide path activated in virtual space as the doors to the right of their desk unsealed. You wondered how many different weapon systems had been pointing at you a few moments ago.

The doors opened from the bland, featureless waiting area into a bland, featureless corridor. There were no windows, and your enhanced senses only barely registered the gentle hum of ventilation systems. Bertlant had once commented on how Community government facilities felt more like fortresses after his first visit to one. The implication that anything less was acceptable had been shocking.

Yet even the Confederacy laid more security around their government than the race that had brought you here. Wasn't that a sobering thought, not least because what humanity did had a better track record. If only their means were replicable.

The door at your entry to the corridor had sealed the moment you stepped through, and another scanner presented itself at the next one. There was one of the, in your opinion, far too limited supply of Clarions in that system. You held still as the various scanners and security sweepers did their work, purging the air around you. Only once all aspects of the system had completed their work did the next set of doors open.

What awaited you was another featureless corridor, this one spiralling down until it met another set of doors, opening into an expansive, high-ceilinged chamber dominated by a central holoprojector. Armoured server banks lined the walls, before giving way to two small levels of stadium seating. Thirty-two seats, like all other high committees. A quick count returned twenty-nine seats filled. That was good; it meant you wouldn't have to wait. And every single one of those twenty-nine were staring at you.

"Good afternoon," you said mildly. You palmed the drive you'd brought with you from Farpoint to hand and advanced into the room. "You may call me Strand; it is what I am. I am here to brief you."

Silence followed.

"Brief us on what?" A Nilean near the heart of the room asked, his hands swivelling into signs of tentative trust and required inquiry. "You hold a Seal, Strand; that is why you are here. What would Sovereignty have to do with something that important?"

It was a good question. The office had been founded during the Community's younger days to oversee territorial expansion and tend to the fleets required to secure it. The formalisation of the Frontier and Battle Fleets into their modern components had been their work, and much of the Community's early success had come from those actions.

But the Community had stopped expanding with the creation of the Long Peace, and in the centuries since many had questioned the reason for the Sovereignty Office's continued existence. There was a reason it still did, if anyone looked deep enough. The Long Peace had been won and kept by shadowed actions, but the Community had known that no nation could secure itself without a striking arm longer than a knife.

So Sovereignty had continued to exist, puttering along in a holding pattern for a millennia by galactic reckoning. Conducting wargames and exercises, innovating as best they could, all in support of a mobile fleet that vanishingly few in the Community imagined would ever see use again.

"I will be meeting with the select group for Diplomacy after this meeting," you replied. Here and there you saw motions of shock turn to thought. Then sudden confusion as the only sane possibility surfaced. "And I am afraid that it is not what you think."

You signed calm and a promise of commentary before any could speak, and made the last few steps to the holoprojector. "What do you know about Frontier Dispatch Seven-Three-Three-Nine?"

"A Frontier Fleet deployment," another voice spoke. An Ilyuran latteryear, wizened by age, but not yet diminished by it. "Three Deep Range ships tasked on an extended mission to test the new mission profile limits." Clear, monochrome eyes watched you for a moment. "I note that the detached vessels have not returned for leave in well over two standard maintenance cycles. A lie?"

"A necessary misdirection," you said in turn. "Three Deep Range ships were indeed dispatched from the Community, and the mission was an excellent test of the design's projected mission profile. But that was not the mission's purpose."

You slotted the drive into place, taking a moment to key the projector into its protocols and very carefully key in your passcode when the security screen flashed up. It only had one file, and you hit play.

"Select members, this is the Sol system." An image of the system as it had been on your arrival flickered into the air beside you. "It lies almost fifty thousand lightyears from our closest borders, and is home to a young race who call themselves humanity." More data flowed out from the projector into the sealed virtual space, and the grouplead signed confusion.

"With respect, Strand, I do not see the-" He began, then stopped as the rest of the data penetrated.

"Yes." You nodded. "Their age is exactly why they are important. They defeated a Tribute Fleet barely thirty stellar cycles after meeting one for the first time. And the imagery you're seeing now is how the system looked five cycles later."

Again, silence fell, a deeper one this time.

"Elements of the Community agreed to the purpose of this mission, and the Deep Range ships utilised their breadcrumb trails to leave a comm buoy connection in the event of successful diplomatic contact." You were skipping the highlights of that contact; there wasn't time for it right now.

"Suffice it be said that diplomacy was successful, and that on return from the system humanity was left a series of code sequences to transmit in the event of their survival against the coming Shiplord response. They, unlike anyone, somehow knew the secret of the Shiplords' most terrible weapon. We now know that their confidence in their ability to defeat it was vindicated."

"There are no records of any race surviving the Deathwind," another of the select group snapped, but it was half-hearted, undermined by shock.

"There are now," you told them. "The sequence we received matched the three-seventeen code set. It was not expected to be required, but the Emissary dispatched appears to have been convinced of the possibility of the impossible."

"And what does that mean?" The grouplead said, their fingers making it quite clear that it was a demand.

"Victory against what the Shiplord call a War Fleet through the success of humanity's planned countermeasures," you replied at once. "And that they would provide proof and plans shortly, and in person."

"But you said they were fifty thousand lightyears away!" Another select member cried. "How are they going to-" You raised a hand, signing for quiet around the Seal that had brought you here, and it came instantly.

"I haven't the faintest idea," you admitted. It was hard to keep your signs straight as you did so. Humanity had proven their ability to do the impossible more than once during your time at Sol. But there was impossible and there was ludicrous. You still weren't entirely sure why you'd added in three-seventeen and its associated set, but apparently you'd been right to.

"But that I don't know isn't important," you continued, moving onto more solid ground. "What matters is what we do with it. And to that end, the Sovereignty office is about to become key to the Community's needs once again."

"Then," the same Ilyura from before spoke, long ears twitching. "The Long Peace?"

"It is to end, yes." You gestured, taking in the chamber, and as you did so the imagery on the projector changed. The local stellar corridor around Nilean space now filled the space. "And for that to happen, Sovereignty must be prepared. The needs of the Community are thus. Confirm all fleet readiness, and confirm assault plans for the targets in this intel packet."

"What are the targets?"

"Shiplord comm stations and logistical bases," you manipulated the display, highlighting the targets that humanity had been able to confirm and add to. "We have reliable intelligence that the Shiplords cannot win a war against the entire galaxy. But if the galaxy is to have a chance of coming together, we must break the network that allows the Shiplords to react to us so easily. That is your first duty. Once these attack plans are prepared, you are to begin indexing the needs of full wartime production." That brought a hush of indrawn breaths.

"But," one select member began.

"We recognise the Community's needs," the grouplead said over the half-voiced objection. "It shall be done."

You signed thanks, but it was hard. Full wartime production implied a need for continuous deployment, and the lowest casualty figures for it ran into the tens of billions. But if anyone in the galaxy was to have the chance of freedom, it was necessary. At least you would not be alone.

But all you said was: "Good. Further orders will be provided as needs develop."

You transferred the target data alone, then pulled the drive.

"Good luck."

Now onto Diplomacy. And how you were going to prepare them for meeting a new species in the near future, as Three-Seventeen implied, you had no idea.

Well, Kendl, you told yourself, stepping out of a room already full of discussion and forming plans. Blunt truth worked wonders for humanity. Maybe it'll work here.

:Mandy, Elil.: You tried to be gentle, but there was only so much you could do. You couldn't have hidden your resolve if you'd wanted to. :This entire mission is a risk, and we've taken dozens of those already. Let me take this one.:

:Vega-:"

:I said let me take it.: You shook your head behind the Masque, exasperated despite yourself. Amanda was so used to piling the weight of responsibility and danger on herself that sometimes she missed the important things. :Not let me take it alone.:

:I, oh.: You felt the flash of embarrassed heat within the realisation. :Sorry.:

:It's alright.: You made the words a reaching motion, hands out, grasping your friend's shoulders. It pulled her close, a moment of met eyes and sincere emotion. Perfect for what you couldn't not say next. :I'm not you, Mandy.:

:...that's not fair,: she muttered, humour sparking between the three of you despite the seriousness of your dilemma. She'd tried for repressive and gotten warmth instead.

:Perhaps,: Elil considered. :But it is true.:

:Alright, alright,: Amanda laughed, waving the statement away. She reached out across your links, breathing in deep of both air and her Practice. She didn't extend it beyond herself, but you felt the steady tension around her that was ready to do so in an instant. :If you're going to be me, then I'll be you, ready to catch you.:

Elil stretched out wordlessly, icy power welling up within them to aid you against the madness you had committed to touching. You took the connection fully, weaving it through yourself without pause. His Focus might not be quite the same as Phoebe's, but the technique you'd created to work with her was just as effective.

:Thank you.:

You turned inwards once more, and stretched out woven fingers of Insight and Harmony to the maelstrom that had threatened to cut your soul to ribbons. You knew more this time, at least. Between your interlinked Focuses, you should be able to find a way to what lay within the metaphysical hurricane of memory driven into the world around you. And if you couldn't, Mandy would be there.

All you had to do was build a door.

It wasn't that simple, of course, but the premise held. You had to create a way into a nexus that had never been designed to be accessed. No one, not even Amanda, had ever done that. It was beyond the experience of any Potential, but if that was the case, then you had the right combination to find a solution. Your woven fingers spun together, drawing burning lines into the world around them, tracing the wounded space that had almost ended you.

It hadn't meant to, you knew that; that would have been attributing the construct far more will than it would ever be capable of. But power was power, and trying to harness that without the proper preparation was always a dangerous exercise. The cost of preparation had almost been more than this mission could bear, but you understood now.

Soulspace fingers spread wide, stitching a thread across the fabric of the reality beyond reality. It wasn't a conventional door, but nothing about this was conventional. But it was a shape that could be entered, sketched across with swirling contours of light and measure that you knew had purpose beyond the imagery. Otherwise they wouldn't be there.

You brushed it gently against the edge of the memory nexus and let the moments pass. You could only make the initial contact. The rest was up to the door.

To Make a Way: 73. Success.

You felt Elil's curiosity, restrained beneath the clarity of purpose that was so easily his to call upon. It was so different to Phoebe's in its own way, but close enough to feel familiar. It made you wonder… If she was ok. If everyone outside of your mission was ok. You could feel the general presence of humanity far beyond proper perception, but it was only that, a feeling of presence. It let you know that the world you'd left behind was still turning, but nothing more.

Right now, you wanted to know more than that. A lot more. You wanted to see one of the people you loved, see the world you'd dedicated yourself to protecting. And you couldn't do any of that until this mission was complete. The Adamant's drive was entirely capable of returning you home for a spell, but you couldn't risk it now. Not with the expected focus that the Shiplords would place on Sol. No matter how much you wanted it.

:We all have those we miss, Vega.: Elil's voice was glassy-smooth, but not bereft of emotion. Since Second Sol, many of the Unisonbound had begun to find families. Before then, there hadn't seemed to be much point. And, of course, Amanda and Mary's example. Not that any of you would ever tell them.

:You'd think that would make it easier,: you sighed between the flickering instants as the door you'd stitched into creation finally began to settle.

:Sharing the pain of missing those we love isn't about making it easier,: Elil chided, and you looked across at his presence in soulspace with a blink of confusion. He chuckled, the sound a rolling thing of warm rains and brilliant sunsets. :It's about knowing that you aren't alone. Even when it feels like it.:

You turned the thought in your mind, considering it, before giving a chuckle of your own. :I guess it is.:

:And at least we have each other,: the Insight-Focused pointed out. :Few of the crew have the luxury of a connection as strong as ours.:

:You know I've tried,: you pointed out. Elil laughed again, a memory of the last 'impromptu' social you'd organised flickering between you.

:Yes,: he nodded, :I know. And I know that it helps. But it still not the same.:

:Only so much I can do,: you agreed. But there was still brightness in that memory, and you treasured it for that. :But sti- oh, it's done.: And with that, the matter was brushed back again. The space within the door shimmered, then turned transparent.

:Ready?: You asked, broadcasting beyond your link with Elil.

:Ready,: Elil confirmed with exacting precision.

:Ready,: Amanda's voice came from all around you.

You reached through the doorway…

Return to The Maelstrom: 92. Greater Success.

..and found your questing fingers brushing through a flow of memories and more. This time, though, they didn't slice into your hands like blades. The metaphysical waters weren't placid, but they were not the barely restrained hurricane that had almost killed you before.

:It worked!: You carolled. You felt layers of tension boiling out of your shared links as you confirmed what the lack of a sudden scream of pain had already stated. :I can-: Oh.

Oh my.

Charting the Depths: 62
- 2 rolls vs DC 80: 90, 20
Success

There was so much here. So much buried within thought and memory more ancient than humanity could properly comprehend. Even the oldest of the Group of Six, those races who had agreed to aid you, were far from their first hundred millennia. Only two that you knew of could lay claim to such marked years. The Shiplords, and the Neras, and you wondered how both of them handled it.

Yet that was the edge of your focus, as you dived into the oceans of memory through a portal of nonsense lines and almost playful structure. It went on and on and on, so far that you almost missed it when it looped back to the beginning, and it was constantly growing too. Why was it so much more present here, than at the other Sorrows? Hard to say. Perhaps a matter of size? A station was only a station, after all. The other Enclaves had been compounds, and the stretch of a planet's surface was far more than this place.

Odd, now that you considered it. Why a station here?

:Is that truly important right now, dearest?: Kagiso prodded. Your Unison Intelligence had a point, didn't she. You were here for a reason, not to sightsee. Even if the reason could technically be called sightsee- :Vega!:

:Alright, alright,: you hedged. But you turned your focus to the matter at hand. :Think we can do this?:

:Would we be here if we couldn't?: Kagiso asked in return, and you cracked a smile. You fed more of your presence through the door you'd forged, running anchors of self deep into the rippling chaos all around you. You weren't even going to try to read it, not right now. You were risking enough even touching it again. But you could pull out a reflection of its existence, and that would be enough, given time.

:Of course,: you said. :We'd just do it anyway.:

Your power sunk into the depths of the nexus-world, only the depths, for it had no heart that you could find. Not even its beginning, as it looped right back to the end. But deep enough that you could make the picture whole.

Then you pulled.

---

Data Integrity Check: 6

"On the one hand I want to beat you over the head for risking yourselves, and the mission, again," Jane growled from her place next to Amanda as she looked over the theoretical treasure trove you'd returned with to the Adamant. You didn't have a firm memory of the walk from the quiet place to the ship, but it had to have happened. You wouldn't be here otherwise.

"On the other, well," the naval woman shrugged. "I'm not an analyst. Then again, the immediate reaction my analysts gave me when I handed them the data you recovered was muted terror. It took almost a minute to get them to explain why."

"I think I can guess," you sighed heavily. You'd hoped that the feeling had been wrong, but it seemed your instincts had been true again. Unfortunately, this time. "There's no structure to it."

"And in one sentence you sum up the problem that Sunset took a paragraph to explain." Jane brushed the knuckles of one hand across her forehead. "But yes, that is the problem. There's no data structure and there's nothing to even start building one on. They're going to have to have to go through the entire record, block by block, and try to build a structure that'll make sense from the similarities."

She sighed, as heavily as you. "They said that the sorting algos will kick in once they hit critical mass, and the lagless processor we have will make it go very quickly once we reach that point. But we don't have many analysts, and Sunset was quite adamant that they'd need all of them to get anywhere on this in a reasonable time period."

"That's, yeah," you nodded. "I hoped I was wrong." You did your best to make it an apology, but there was only so much you could do. "But this nexus, it isn't like the other ones. It was made completely by accident, and I don't think it was ever meant to be 'read'. We want a picture from it, we're going to have to put it together ourselves."

"Do we have any other options?" Amanda asked wearily, from the head of the table.

"I have one," Iris chirped from her seat, head tilted just so as she looked at the data structure. "I was built to be a data processing VI before I became, well, me. I still have all of those protocols, and the Lagless Core will let me work much more efficiently than Sunset and the rest of the intel section."

"How much more?" Mary asked, watching her daughter carefully. Iris grimaced.

"Not as fast as I'd like," she admitted dejectedly. "There are limits on my multitasking unless I fork, and," she shuddered in place. "No. Not again. Not unless there's no other choice."

"Of course," Amanda extended a hand, brushing against the air between them, too far for her to reach. Iris shuddered again, and smiled tightly.

"Thanks." Then, as if nothing had happened, she continued. "But it's an option. And I'm certain I'll be able to put together a better picture of things. The only issue is that…it'll take me out of the equation for most of the next Sorrow, I think. Efficiency only goes so far, and most of that will be focused on getting a better picture instead of a quicker one."

"So, lose our primary infowarfare specialist," Jane quirked an unexpected smile. "Not as bad as it could be, given the codes Kicha gave us. We know they work now, at least."

"But still a weakness," Iris added.

"So we put the intel section through hell for a middling picture, lose you for a spell," you nodded to Iris, "or…I could try something." Amanda shot you a look.

"You think you could do that?" she asked. Without being detected, she added without saying so, but still loudly. You shook your head.

"Not here." You gestured vaguely out beyond the confines of the star system. "But the Adamant has one hell of a drive. Jump us somewhere the Shiplords won't be able to see us. An empty star system, or just between them if we feel like flaunting another Directive."

There'd never been any exact proof that there was a reason behind that one; not to linger between the stars. But given you'd literally declared war on the Shiplords, what was another violation? Unless, of course, there was a reason for it.

"How long?" Jane asked immediately. You shrugged.

"The Chorus we have aboard will help a lot. I wouldn't have even suggested it without that." The small group of Harmonials had been vital to early infiltration, allowing you or Elil to leave the ship without compromising the ship's stealth systems. Now, they could serve another purpose, close to what they'd been trained to do.

"But I can't give a firm timeline. Faster than it would take Iris or Sunset to put it all together, but it'll all have to be spent away from a Sorrow." You shrugged again, the motion as helpless as before. "Two weeks at worst? And if we don't have it by then, well-"

"I'll be far enough along to be present for the landing wherever we go next," Iris said confidently. "It could work."

"Your call, Commodore," Jane said, nodding to Amanda.

You have recovered a snapshot of the nexus bound into the soulspace around the Shiplord station dedicated to their First Sorrow. Unfortunately, it's a total mess. You have three options for how to proceed. Regardless of which you choose, your time here at the First Sorrow is over.
[][Solution] Sweat and Tears - Throw this at your intel section. They'll put something together eventually, though it will make it harder for them to focus on all their other duties. And don't expect the result to be perfect.
[Applies malus to intel section rolls for at least the next Sorrow.]
[][Solution] Eyes Are For Seeing - Ask Iris to dedicate her time to unravelling this mess. It will lose you easy access to her talents for the next Sorrow, but it will provide a solid answer to whatever Vega was able to return to you.
[Iris unavailable for the next Sorrow]
[][Solution] Awaiting Harmony - Jump from the Sorrow to somewhere beyond the reach of the Shiplords, and seek the answer in Vega's Focus. It would take a miracle to easily reassemble the nexus data. Fortunately, those are her stock and trade.
[I will roll once a day until Vega succeeds in triggering a Miracle. Will take a maximum of 15 (3d4+3) days. Iris will work in parallel with this option.]

To which Sorrow do you go next?
[][Sorrow] The Second Sorrow
Kalilah: Our host implied that the First and Second Sorrows are somehow linked. She was there for the Second, not the First, yet gave the First far more importance. Why? Something to consider.
Mary: After what the First Sorrow was, I'm almost scared to ask what the Second involved. But I think we need to see it.
[][Sorrow] The Fourth Sorrow
Amanda: Very strongly without saying as much, Kicha suggested that we visit this Sorrow last. She wouldn't explain further, but if we're accepting her help, I don't see a reason to refuse this.