The Secrets' Crusade

[Snowfire]

August 9th​, 2130

"Alright," Lieutenant Hire Gilsan seemed more on edge than usual, his dark eyes fraught with tension below a short cut of hair so blond it was almost white. Despite the statements of your superiors to the contrary, you all knew the timer this mission was on. Some nerves were expected when presented with your first major analysis. "What are your initial assessments?"

"From a data verification standpoint, I don't think we can't dispute the veracity of these files," Helen said. As the section's expert in forensic intelligence, that statement mattered a great deal. "At least, not from the point of view of the Shiplords. The security levels here are too high for the possibility of this being false-flag data to be significant. We won't discount the possibility, but we feel confident that the Shiplords believe what they've written here. If it's a false flag, it's one that their leadership is using on their own species."

"With that said," Megan continued, her voice shifting to a more level contralto. "The data doesn't easily line up with that hypothesis. The system access logs show civilians entering the system within one of their weeks, once the barrier was in place. Even with the shown capabilities of the Shiplords, that's too soon for anything but a truly protracted propaganda campaign. That, or the entire early data is falsified." The last was said lower, the pitch deepening.

"Which isn't a possibility we can discount. We don't have enough supporting evidence, and," Marc sighed, "I'm not sure gathering it will be possible. Any Shiplord source could be suspect, after all. If not for us, for public consumption."

"Despite there being no evidence of such manipulation in Insight's thoughtcasts," Megan noted, "we have to accept that possibility. Whilst the datums appear conclusive, the lack of supporting information beyond that supplied by the Shiplords makes assigning them an objective truth value a challenge."

"However," Helen spoke up again. "If we accept this data as true, the picture it begins to paint is hard to describe beyond a few key points. No matter the evils they have committed, the Shiplords believe that there is a reason for it. Perhaps more importantly to our own mission, given what Tahkel told Commodore Hawk, a memorial of this scale is not something that a race who revels in such things would construct."

"Noted," Hire nodded, turning his attention to you. "With that recognised, however, what can it tell us about them?" Helen, Marc and Megan specialised in broad analysis, with a major focus on information integrity. Yours was rather different.

Understanding an enemy was, in many ways, more art than science. What the other specialists did was incredibly important, but to put that data in the right order often took a very different skill set. Which was why you were out here serving as the crew's xenopsychologist, tens of thousands of light years from home, instead of back in Sol where any sane psychologist would probably be.

"Less than we'd hoped, more than I'd feared," you replied, accessing the central display through your implants. "Much of our core analysis remains as it was before this windfall; the Shiplords are dedicated to their cause, highly motivated by perceived failures, and utterly unwilling to risk the possibility of a repeat. That they've chosen to turn an entire star system into a memorial to a perceived failure, however, implies something about this interaction that was different."

"I doubt any are blind to that, however," you continued, sparing a rueful grin. "The more interesting part is the continued Shiplord presence despite how long ago this happened. In some ways, this could be expected – dedication takes many forms. But even adjusting for cultural differences for a species that has possessed biological immortality for longer than our species has existed, the scale of visitation is too broad. We have estimates on Shiplord population, thanks to Insight and our allies. If the figures here hold across all the identified sites, then ninety percent of their species visits each of these systems across the space of each century. Given the limitations of First Secret drives, that's a non-trivial energy expenditure."

"Your point, Samuel?" Hair asked, though not offensively, dark eyes watching you intently.

"Regardless of if the Shiplord leaders are perpetuating a myth upon the rest of their species or not, these systems are more than just memorials. I've compared these figures to human patterns of dedication, and we're not even close. Not even the memorials for the Week of Sorrows see visitation like this. The files we recovered say that these are places that the Shiplords failed, but why are these systems important compared to the rest?"

You shook your head. "We have accurate figures on that now, from the Uninvolved. We know how many species the Shiplords have wiped out across the last quarter of a million years. Even if, maybe, this is all a steady degradation of their culture into its current form, we're talking thousands of species since they established their hegemony. Literally countless lives. This species, and those who inhabited the other systems, must have done something that all the rest failed to. Made an impact in some way that we just don't know."

You looked across at the leader of the section. "I'm not an intelligence expert in the way everyone else here is. I'm a psychologist. And right now, there's just not enough to build a proper picture. The pieces that we thought made up the Shiplords are shifting, that much is certain. But what form those pieces take? How they change our understanding of this enemy? That, I can't answer. We need to know what's down on the world below us. We need to know how the Shiplords interact with what they see as a terrible failing. Is it something that they feel, even now? Or is it ritual?" You sighed.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I know you were hoping for more, and there's a huge amount in these files that point towards specific conclusions. The beings who wrote the welcome messages, who created this place, believed that it was for a greater purpose. Of that, I'm certain. But until we actually can see what's down there, or are able to access whatever was left intact at the core of this world, I can't even begin to tell you what that purpose was. Not with any degree of certainty."

"There are a few things I think I can, say, however," you said with a wan smile. "We know what the Shiplords believe, at least the Tribute Fleets. We have the transmission of the Regular Fleet, given as it left Sol. They all point to some danger, some terrible threat that the Shiplords have attempted to keep contained and found no way to do so but through genocide. Given how Insight has failed to discover such a threat, it's hard to give it credence. But now that we know what these places are, a possibility presents itself. The Shiplords believe that they have tried everything they could; we know this from the Third Battle of Sol's resolution. A possible explanation for why could be that this system, and the race that once inhabited it, were an attempt by the Shiplords to break the cycle they believe themselves forced into."

"That's something of a leap, Sam," Megan said carefully. "Insight only had a few months to rip that recording to pieces."

"Yet every Potential who did so agreed that the Shiplord who sent it absolutely believed what they said," you replied, the response long practiced. "Megan, despite our disagreement on if that truly means something, I am speaking purely in hypotheticals here. It's a hypothesis, and I admit, my own remove from a true intelligence posting makes me comfortable enough to make it."

"Understood," Hire nodded. "Can you extend from that hypothesis? Tell us what you'd expect to find down there if you're right?"

"Dedication in a way that's hard to explain," you replied instantly. "The Tribute Fleets are almost religious in their dedication to their tasks. I'd expect to see the same thing here, though through a different lens. This would be one of the places where they attempted to defeat whatever enemy they believe is out there, and failed so horribly that they had to wipe the board clean. Given the length of time that they've held dominion over the galaxy, I can't imagine that the Shiplords are a race accustomed to failures like that."

"Which does raise another point inherent to this analysis," Marc said gravely. "If you're right, and this is all part of some…reasoned method, as horrific as it surely is. Then what could possibly be so terrifying to a race so powerful?"

"That," you replied, "is part of what I'm hoping our ground teams will be able to find out. And, if I am right, what we need them to find out. We thought that beating the Tribute system was our way to freedom. Then we thought it was defeating the Shiplords. If we've been wrong this whole time, we need to know. And soon."

"But this is all hypothetical right now, correct?" Hire asked. You nodded. "Then, let's leave it there for now. In terms of concrete results, though, I can see why we're lacking. And I know that Captain Cyneburg will understand, even though I wish there was more we could give her."

"You're not alone there," Helen agreed. "Iris and the others can make their own conclusions, but we have to deal in facts when we give our reports. And this isn't enough, Hire. They have to know that. Maybe Sam's right," she nodded to you. Of the three, she'd been the most neutral on the matter. "But that's almost irrelevant right now."

"We need more," Hire said. "I understand. I have a briefing with the senior in twenty minutes, I'll take this to them. She and Commodore Hawk will make their own decisions, of course, but I can't see them ignoring us. They're sharp, they have to understand the same things we do." He paused, consulting an internal record, then nodded firmly.

"Send me your final analysis reports. We've done all we can with what they've given us."

"Yes sir," your voices chorused, and his tablet pinged five times. Then he rose from his seat, and made his way out of the compartment. As the door slid shut behind him, you looked over at the final member of the group, and the one who'd been silent throughout after an earlier conversation with your section lead.

"Are you alright, Ana?" You asked your section's info-warfare specialist. The pained sigh the brunette offered up was answer enough. "What's wrong?"

"What isn't?" She sighed again, more heavily. "Do you know what my report was, Sam? The entire thing?"

"You know I'm no network specialist," you began to say, but stopped yourself on the second word, realising the need for an actual answer. "No, Ana, I don't." You told her instead. She chuckled, only a little harshly.

"I agree fully with the analysis of the network conducted by Iris." She said after a long moment, and stopped. You sat there, watching, waiting for something more. You knew she was a perfectionist, that she'd always done everything she could to add detail to a report. That couldn't be- and you got it.

"Oh," you said softly.

"Yes," she said, crushing the word out of her. "I don't, I don't envy Iris what she had to do, Sam. I can't imagine she's doing well, given what her report talks about. But I wish that I could have helped. That I could have done my job, and not just checked the work of someone so much better than any of us at this." This wasn't anger, you recognised that easily. But she was struggling with her own purpose, and that couldn't be easy given the stakes here.

"Then," you paused, trying to find a way to explain what you felt. "then don't try to match her there. Do what you do best, Ana, work in the places that Iris didn't. I know she secured the system, but did she look at where everything in it went? Maybe there's something in those connections that you could use? ID codes or hard storage, like the Tombstone systems. Our Captain found those, Ana. Who's to say you can't do the same?"

The petite woman sat there for another, long, moment, and you waited, ignoring the movements of those you shared the space with for the moment. Giving her time, you hoped, and a space to talk in. You wanted to tell her that Iris wasn't perfect, but that wouldn't help. It would only reinforce the perceived difference.

"She's good," Ana's fingers twitched, a telltale sign of implant interface. "But she doesn't get everything, does she?"

"I've never known anyone who does," you pointed out, and Ana laughed. It was a good sound, much better than the twisted chuckle from before.

"Well, I suppose that's true." She stood, the motion one of a woman brushing away cobwebs. "Thank you, Sam. Even if I find nothing, at least you've given me something to do." Then she was gone, moving swiftly to her terminal. You let her go. Despite the pressing need for more data, there was still a great deal you could do. And you hadn't come out here, into mortal danger, to just sit around and wait. Go looking, Captain Cyneburg had told you all on the very first day. Don't wait for the world to find you.

What does the Adamant focus on next?
[] [NEXT] Infiltration of the Shiplord memorial, to discover how the race treats it, and if it is truly what the records say.
[] [NEXT] A descent deep into the world below, to find the hollow space within in search of ancient knowledge.

The Trailblazer specialists have suggested that, with the suborning of the internal security net, it may be possible to hide an automated reconnaissance station on the single stellar body in the system. Purely passive, of course, but it could provide valuable data in the long run. And a secondary processing cluster for the Adamant's systems in the short term. Of course, leaving anything here could still be detected. Is it worth the risk?

[] [TRAIL] Yes
[] [TRAIL] No

Note: you may delay this decision if you wish, with a vote of Delay. However, doing so will reduce the amount of time that the bonuses could be applied and also rob you of any immediate samples such a project would yield from the planet below.

 

[Snowfire]

With the data retrieved by Iris, the more expected complexities of infiltration proved far less so. Access to files on the facility below were relatively sparse, but the purpose for which it had been built was made very clear. Protocol and etiquette for visitors, though pilgrims might be a better translation, were laid out quite clearly. The site was freely accessible to any with the right codes, and your access to the security system provided those. Of course, there was the possibility that all of them were false, but that struck you as slightly more paranoia than might be healthy.

That was not to say that you didn't have a plan in the event that that was the case, of course. Although the Adamant was effectively toothless by the standards of capital ships, the craft here were distinctly civilian. If needed, Jane could disable the ships in orbit, and Iris would bring up a systemwide jamming field to prevent messages being sent to the interstellar relay built into the system shell's access points. It wouldn't be perfect, but it would give you time to escape.

For now, though, that plan was far away from your focus. The Ministry of Security had studied what data Insight had been able to acquire on Shiplord culture heavily when designing the Masques. Although the species maintained a unified evolutionary template and physical structure, every member of the species was protected by a nanobiological shell that could be modified into almost anything the wearer desired.

Sixth Secret technology on its own couldn't match it; the nanoshells were breathtakingly more advanced than even your daughter's avatar. But with the aid of Practice, and a total disregard for resourcing limits, Trailblazer's R&D specialists had gotten very close. They only cost about as much as a heavy cruiser. Each.

"How are we doing?" You asked, trying in vain to distract yourself from those thoughts for a moment, watching the featureless silver plains of the world below grow larger in the shuttle's view-panes.

"All clear," Vega replied from beside you, her dark hair cloaked beneath the rippled cowl of her Masque. If she was exasperated with your constant repeating of the question, none could have said. "There's not a great deal down there, Mandy, and what they do have doesn't feel military grade at all."

"For them it isn't," Elil said from the helm station, his bright eyes flicking between various readouts as he guided your shuttle down towards the world below. With the internal sensor coverage of the system fully suborned, keeping him aboard the Adamant had been seen as less vital than ensuring that your own insertion went as smoothly as possible. The Adamant's standard stealth systems, in combination with the Accord of Harmonials aboard the vessel to keep its drive field hidden, would suffice against the civilian vessels in orbit.

"These, they're traffic control systems," he continued, dark face intent despite the slow, steady angle of the shuttle's descent. "No major functionality beyond keeping track of drive signatures, and we don't have one they can see. Wouldn't call this easy, but it's not hard. Of course, we go drilling holes in the planet, well," he trailed off, and you laughed good-naturedly.

"I know, I know," you said accommodatingly. He understood that it might end up being required, but for now you could joke. "Just a little bit more complicated."

"Just a touch," he agreed, his attention flicking back to the sensor readouts, and you turned your own back to the rest of your team. It was a small team, and you'd had the space and Masques for more. But given your uncertainty as to the truth of the place, you'd refused to take anyone who didn't have Unisonbound or close-to-it reaction time and manoeuvring capacity. And that had cut the pool down quite sharply.

Who have you brought with you? The core of your Landing Party is Amanda, Vega and Elil. You may select up to three (3) of the following candidates:

[] Iris – Your daughter, and the only non-Unisonbound on the list. As an AI, she is more capable in the infospace than any other member of your crew, and her avatar is fully capable of interfacing with a Masque. She can think even faster than you can, but her physical capabilities still lag behind a Unisonbound. But then, so long as she has lagless signal she's never in any real danger.
[] Kalilah Mishra – A risky choice, you believe, but she also wishes to see what the Shiplords have made of this place. Kalilah has and continues to change since the Third Battle of Sol, and her request to join you in this endeavour speaks volumes. If you are discovered, or this is a trap, there will be no greater ally in returning you all safely home.
[] Lea Halwood – A Mender like you, though through a different lens, Lea tends to act as a sounding board for you, and the younger woman is very good at it. Easily capable of keeping up, and would provide a backup medic in the event of combat.
[] Mir Hayes – Apart from you and Vega, the only Speaker on the mission. Mir also possesses a truly rare Focus of Peace, and believes that he may be able to turn this to your advantage in seeking undisturbed access to the Shiplord memorial site.

They were the team you'd chosen, however, and whatever awaited you it would be enough. That had stood you in good stead through countless trials, you needed only to trust it would here, once again. The moments of consideration passed quickly, but then, so too did your descent.

"Coming in on final approach now," Elil's voice intruded on the last of your contemplations. "Iris has gotten us a good spot, and will keep it clear of locals." His own Masque was up now, too, sealing him in beneath layers of angles so finely intermeshed that they almost looked smooth. Your own was more similar to Vega's, but with more solidity. Or perhaps it was more similar to Kagiso's, now that you considered it. The Masques were being run by your Unison Intelligences, and though their preferences were similar, that didn't mean the same.

:Ours, I think,: Sidra told you a moment later, and you smiled below the nanites that hid your face. :And a good thing, too. This will take all of us together, I think.:

:And even more if it is truly what they say it is,: you sent back, and a moment later you felt their presence bleeding away your concerns. :You shouldn't,: you began, only for them to interrupt.

:But I want to,: they said. :You need your mind clear, Amanda. It won't be, of course,: you felt the rueful chuckle, :but I can help you be better than you are right now. And I will, too.:

Their presence flooded through you, washing through the anxiety and concerns that had grown to a fever pitch during your descent. You'd kept them controlled, but you were just you, and with the burden shared you found your world expanded. Just in time for the soft hum of the ship's drive to fade, and a wave of it to try and come crashing in again. The first humans to visit a Shiplord planet, as far as you knew – but you'd keep the mark in the history books clear until you were back on the Adamant.

"Ready?" You asked, flowing up into a standing position, the Masque shifting to support you completely without revealing the presence of your subtly extended Aegis. It was another reason you'd refused to take non-Unisonbound or close enough, actually. An Aegis allowed you the Masque to far more effectively mimic the fluid movements that Insight had reported.

"I'm always ready to make history with you," Vega replied in the Shiplord language, the intonation one of acceptant joy. A third reason: the Unison Intelligences were far more efficient interface points for the Masque. Getting the language right would matter as much as looking right. Elil hit the hatch switch, and a vista that no non-Shiplord had seen in scores of millennia stretched out before you.

The world's surface was as smooth as your sensors had told you it would be, yet here that perfect marble had been marred by a small…settlement was the wrong word. Even as you thought it, it felt wrong, and you let yourself trust that. You weren't a match for Vega, but you had your own skill in connecting with what was felt, not seen. The arching spires, ancient by the standards of humanity, stood as if bearing an endless weight, and your first step into that well of utter and ancient sorrow almost staggered you.

Despite whatever the truth might be, the Shiplords who had come here for millennia believed that this had been a failing of their people. They believed it still, and in that moment you recognised that your pause wouldn't be noticed. Not with so many others around you, upon that field of dead silver, reacting exactly the same way. Feedback rippled down your arm as Vega gently grasped it with one of her manipulators. Looking at her was to see through the Masque, and the nod that confirmed your own feelings. And with that confirmed, your mission priorities had abruptly simplified.

:Find out how this was their failure,: you flicked out to the network between you. :Anything you can find, once we're inside. Observation is now secondary.:

:Understood,: there was a mess of emotion and subtle meaning below those responses, but they came without pause.

"This way, I believe," Elil said verbally, keeping to the language of the place as he motioned towards a gate built between the landing field and the mournful structures that awaited you. The flow in and out was unsecured, yet as you approached, one of a small group of more uniform figures moved out from the gate.

Curious, your nascent link to the web told you, though also dutiful, and moving to discharge the dictates of such. An…attendant? Was that even the right word?

"Greetings, travellers," they said as they reached a more personable speaking distance. "Be welcome beneath the spires." The phrase was pure ritual, but there was a depth to it that defied that classification. "My grant-name is Yhelir, and I would ask only one thing to you new travellers here." There was a feeling of…something between pity and pride in their voice, something in response to the reaction they'd seen in you.

"Of course," Vega gave a small dip of their presence, their own voice solemn, and not one shred of it an act.

"There are two paths to understand all that transpired here, all that we did," Yhelir explained. "Both are open to you, but only one may be experienced first, and none of the Hearthguard will speak of either without first knowing your choice. Would you remember first, or would you witness?"

There was a complexity to that question that defied your understanding. Something deep, almost primal, and the translation matrix couldn't make sense of it. The way it was said made clear, there was no right answer, but also no wrong one. Yet beneath that… Pings flashed between your internal network, but it was too opaque. Both answers were equally valid, both led to understanding, but the difference? Nothing any of you could find. To witness implied what the word meant, to see. But you could see memories, too. And there was no time, even at accelerated speeds, for you knew Shiplords could think at such speeds too. There was no advantage there, only what would be expected.

What, then, would you choose?
[] Witness
[] Remember

Please vote by plan, to allow for votes that involve taking fewer than six team members. Your options for the team vote are listed again below, you may select up to three of them:

[] Iris – Your daughter, and the only non-Unisonbound on the list. As an AI, she is more capable in the infospace than any other member of your crew, and her avatar is fully capable of interfacing with a Masque. She can think even faster than you can, but her physical capabilities still lag behind a Unisonbound. But then, so long as she has lagless signal she's never in any real danger.
[] Kalilah Mishra – A risky choice, you believe, but she also wishes to see what the Shiplords have made of this place. Kalilah has and continues to change since the Third Battle of Sol, and her request to join you in this endeavour speaks volumes. If you are discovered, or this is a trap, there will be no greater ally in returning you all safely home.
[] Lea Halwood – A Mender like you, though through a different lens, Lea tends to act as a sounding board for you, and the younger woman is very good at it. Easily capable of keeping up, and would provide a backup medic in the event of combat.
[] Mir Hayes – Apart from you and Vega, the only Speaker on the mission. Mir also possesses a truly rare Focus of Peace, and believes that he may be able to turn this to your advantage in seeking undisturbed access to the Shiplord memorial site.

I have provided a more in-depth Pros/Cons list below. Be aware when voting that this is as much a vote to balance emotions as it is a vote to provide a spread of abilities. In fact, it's probably more the former than the latter.

Spoiler: "Pros/Cons List"

• Iris
  • Pros: Incredible infospace skill, even beyond the capabilities of Unison Intelligences. Can think 'faster' than even you or the Shiplords.
  • Cons: Has just had to deal with a major personal trauma and intensely desires answers. Despite everything, she can still be impulsive with her capabilities.
• Kalilah
  • Pros: The most deadly human combat asset in existence. Heartcircle member.
  • Cons: Still not settled after the Third Battle of Sol, and intrigue has never been her strong suit. Wants answers, but may not wish to wait in line for them. As a member of the First Awoken, also has a very personal stake in those.
• Lea
  • Pros: Often an excellent practical and emotional counterpoint to Amanda and Amanda's methods of working with others. Highly skilled Mender, though through a different lens.
  • Cons: A Mender who still bears some scars from her interaction with the Medicament-class destroyed during the Second Battle of Sol. Likely to be less focused on answers and more on keeping everyone safe.
• Mir
  • Pros: His entire Focus is built around the ideal of avoiding conflict.
  • Cons: His entire Focus is built around the ideal of avoiding conflict.

 

[Snowfire]

:I have no wish to remember as they do,: Kalilah's voice answered first. The words dripped with anger and pain, yet there was no hint of the hate that you would have expected there before the Third Battle of Sol. :But we came here to understand, and to do that, we must see what happened here.:

:Agreed.: Iris sent, alongside a data set that gave the feeling of her nodding. :What they are, who they are, I think we could discover that from how they choose to remember. But I, we, need to see what they remember first. We know this is a memorial, to a race lost by their mistakes. But I think we need to see what that means, before getting closer to anything more personal.:

:Any other firm opinions?: You asked, only to receive a chorus of negation.

:Kalilah and Iris have the right of this,: Vega added. :And it should give them a place outside of Shiplord ceremonies, whatever they might be.: Agreement surged through the link, coloured by traces of hesitant thanks from Kalilah. That was enough for you.

:Alright,: you agreed. "We would witness," you told Yhelir, barely a second after they finished their question. They motioned, their physical cue for a nod, if your translation software was holding up.

"Of course," they turned, and one of their manipulators made a sweeping gesture, to move and follow. "Transit to one of the galleries is close by. Come." They completed their turn with effortless fluidity, then led you through the gate into the settlement beyond. The faintest touch of sensors swept over the party, but nothing reacted.

:Your work?: You asked Iris across a private connection.

:No,: she said, her reply carrying the form of a headshake, and then something more in the next words. :Nothing we needed to worry about.:

Your daughter had never been one for wasting words. A master of gestalts, she surely was not, but she was good enough. The scanners at the gate were a tagging system for internal use, nothing more, and far less than even skin deep. To compare that to the deeply suspicious nature of the Shiplords you'd met in battle was no easy feat. But, you forced yourself to admit, you had met them only in battle.

:The shield they cast around the entire star system might have something to do with it too,: Sidra pointed out dryly. :And that was only a tripwire, as far as any of us could tell.:

:True enough,: you agreed, before reaching back to Iris with a smaller gestalt of thanks and presence. Perhaps a touch of concern, too, though only for her safety.

:I'll be fine, mom,: she told you primly. :Pay attention.: That reproof did the job, directing your mind back to the world around you, still drinking in everything you could despite being absent for a few moments.

Yhelir had not been exaggerating when they'd told you that transit was close by. It had taken you barely a minute to reach a small, cleared space amidst the groups of Shiplords. Several platforms were descending towards it with some speed, even as the group before you stepped onto one of the cleared spaces.

A rippling field sprung up around them, and then the entire section of the ground lifted away, carrying the party of Shiplords up towards one of the two spires. You noted that there was no imprint left behind after the platform departed. That was quite impressive, given the complexities of flash-forging a sufficiently capable Fifth Secret manipulator.

"Here," Yhelir announced, stopping at the edge of another one of the spaces. "We hope that you will find what you seek in your gallery. Once you are satisfied, return here, and another of the Hearthguard shall see to your next requests. But please," they added, "do not feel the need to experience both paths in a single turning. Not all, nor even most, who walk this place on their first occasion carry through that. To know what was done here, and to remember it, both at once is not simple. But we leave that to you."

"Our thanks, Yhelir," Vega replied pleasantly, and for a moment it was hard not to wish them the same. She moved subtly within her Masque, an approximation of a nod, or a bow perhaps, it was hard to tell. "We shall remember those words on our return."

"Of course," something flickered between the Shiplord and the ground beneath you, a code sequence that Iris caught as easily as breathing. Then a layer perhaps three centimetres thick sliced away from the ground below, and the entire thing lifted smoothly away towards the nearer tower. There was no feeling of acceleration, and no EM readings either. Fifth Secret, and intimidating as hell.

Yet your attention was paid most to the small section of life risen from the dead silver all about, looking down to try and find patterns below. Some were obvious, the motions of the crowds, their steady movements in and out, around the central plaza of the memorial with solemn deliberation. Some groups standing like tiny islands within that sea of movement, brought together by some shared experience in that moment. Few lasted long, but they were there.

:That'll be helpful,: Elil pointed out, the Insight Focused having honed in on those pauses very quickly. :Means we won't look so damn obvious when something down there brings us all up short. Just hope that a gallery is as private as the way Yhelir said it implied.:

:Yeah,: you agreed. If there was one thing that you needed for this, for the initial encounter with whatever truth the Shiplords believed was here, privacy was it. Iris could give you a great deal of that, and she'd been linked into the security net since leaving the Adamant.

There were a good number of buildings around the central area, the core of remembrance taking place here, but they held the feel of pure utilitarianism. There was no grandiosity or arrogance about them, and any would have surely been held by the two towers, yet the feeling was somehow wrong. There was too much sorrow in those lonely pinnacles. You didn't realise why, first, though. That came from Vega, the Harmonial letting out a hiss of pain as recognition flashed out across the links between your Heartcircle, stumbling in place.

You reached out, catching her in the same moment as Kalilah and Elil, and flooding comfort down the link between you.

"What did you see?" You asked softly. The soft shapes of her Masque twisted into an expression of pain, and you tried again. "Vega, what's wrong?" Mir's hand joined your own as you asked – what had he been focused on? – and you felt the peace that was his very self reach out to Vega. That brought her back, her Masque reasserting itself as she gave a small shake of her head.

"This place," she whispered, in a way that made you wonder if you were being listened to. "The sorrow they hold for it. It's like ours, when we think of the Week of Sorrows, just impossibly older. That's why those towers feel the way they do. They're familiar. And they've never forgotten."

You felt Kalilah's soul stiffen, yet she fought it down to ask a question instead. "What could possibly have made this world so special?" She asked through tight lips, very clearly not continuing to ask what had made it different to humanity, or any number of other races the Contact Fleet had spoken of. Yet even that was more than you'd have expected from her, before her near-death at the Third Battle of Sol

"Not the world," Vega replied, and for a moment you could see her despite the Masque, staring out to the horizon with no thought in her usually so clever eyes. Feeling, not thinking. "Their message didn't ask us to remember the world. They asked us to remember the people that once called it home."

"How is that different?" Kalilah snapped, yet her heart wasn't in it, and once again that was odd. Not for the first time you found yourself regretting the lack of time before your departure, and how precious little of it had been free to spend working out who the elder Potential had become.

"We are not our worlds, Kalilah," Vega replied, undeterred. "We come from those places, but they are only our birthplace. If Earth was so important, then humanity could not live beyond its embrace. Here, the Shiplords seek to make the world a gravestone, but the symbol is less important than the meaning behind it. And it makes me wonder," she turned, her attention fixing on you.

"They felt pity for us, didn't they. When we faced them aboard the Calypso?" She asked, and you nodded.

"I am not sure what else it could have been."

"I believe," she said slowly, "that I may be starting to understand why."

"Then let's see if you're right," Iris suggested, the words drawing your attention towards the swift movement of the platform. "We're here."

All eyes turned to the tower as you approached, and as you watched the section of silvery wall ahead of you furled back with sinuous grace to reveal a small bay, several raised sections moving in to catch your platform as you landed.

:Why are they using moving parts?: Iris sent, the communication seeded with confusion. :We know that the Sixth Secret is mundane to them, and we've seen how effective it can be as a construction tool or medium. Why isn't this place using it?:

:I,: Elil broke off, his eyes sweeping across the bay as the platform slid to a perfect landing atop the extended manipulators. You could feel his Focus churning, working to help him find answers from even the barest of sources, yet what he did wasn't magic. He had to have at least some directing data to work with, and he had almost none.

:I can only imagine for some cultural purpose,: he continued, a handful of moments later. :There's no structural reason, but aesthetics in memorials matter to all the species we've met so far. The Shiplords, all other actions aside, have never seemed different in that regard.:

:But why would a more mundane construction be aesthetically pleasing?: Iris asked. :Look at the join lines, there are no seams there. Nanotech helped build this, I'm certain of it. How is…: she trailed off, shaking her head. :I know it doesn't have to, but this doesn't make any sense.: The energy around the platform fell away, leaving it to settle fully onto the extended supports.

:Maybe their gallery will help us understand,: Mir suggested. :It's better than trying to work it out on our own.: He stepped off the transport onto the strip of silver alloy which formed a dock, and made his way quickly down towards a recess in the otherwise featureless wall.

:Mir's right,: Vega agreed, though she moved slower than the pale Peace-Focus had done, as if the place might suddenly sprout fangs and bite her. You could sympathise. Despite, or in fact because of, her natural advantages as a Harmonial, Vega was far more vulnerable than you to resonance within the web. In comparison, Iris reached the recessed doorway almost before Mir despite leaving the transit pad after him. She reached forward, and you felt something pass between her and the door the moment before it snapped open. Then she was through, and you rushed to follow her.

The room that awaited you defied all expectations. You'd thought after seeing the featureless structures raised high that the Shiplord trend to featureless utilitarianism might extend all the way to their interior design. The landing bay had certainly supported that view. This room, the gallery Yhelir had spoken of, was anything but.

Water pooled on one side of the chamber, stretching all the way to the window that dominated the entire outer facing wall, and a carpet of blue-green plant life spread out from its life-giving sustenance. Furry-looking columns of yellow and orange rose towards the ceiling, the spoke for wheels of what on earth might have been the branches of a tree. The scents of alien wildflowers swirled around you, translated through your Masque without ever touching you. And at the centre of it, a lone weave of silver caged a pattern of light at the centre of the artificial glade.

You stared, then immediately reached out with your other senses, searching for any trace of illusion. There weren't any. This was, somehow, real. And it made the dichotomy of what lay beyond the viewing portal hit all the harder. The stifling sorrow was one thing. The silver desert stretching out to the horizon with nothing to hide it was something else, especially with you surrounded by such a display of hidden life. You took a step towards the window, trying to bridge the gap inside, yet afraid to reach too deeply. You couldn't risk losing yourself to the pain here.

"What the-" Vega began, as she entered the room last, only to be cut off by the door sliding shut. An instant later the light at the centre of the room swept up into an image of a Shiplord, their Masque drawn back around their upper body, and for the very first time you had a face to put to the race that had killed so many.

It was hard to not find some similarities. For whatever reason, the Shiplords had evolved as bipeds with a highly expressive facial structure. Why exactly they usually hid this beneath a layer of nanotechnology was still unknown, though Insight did know that it allowed them to sculpt their own biology. If not for the lack of nose and eyes so bright they almost shone, this particular Shiplord could have looked almost human.

"Welcome, travellers," they greeted you, and a note pinged across the net to confirm that this was a recording play. How Iris had checked so quickly you didn't know, but you weren't going to complain. "To this gallery. Around you lies a living memory of all that was ended when the Zlathbu died, reconstructed from post-Contact survey files. My grant-name is," a mix of syllables that translated to something like an archivist, or perhaps Recorder, "Kymri. I was one of the first Hearthguard to walk this world, and build this place."

"Come, sit," they gestured at the spaces laid out around the projector. "And I will tell you of our failings, that cost of those who could have been so much more."

---

​

It began as your own story had, with a young race discovering the Secrets, and the Shiplords coming to chastise them. You saw tightening faces as the world around you fell away, swooping back to show the entire star system, one gifted with twelve planets and two asteroid belts. Life grew upon the second world, which you recognised as the one upon which you stood. Yet none of that was seen by the Shiplords, until the Zlathbu discovered the First Secret.

"We came, of course," Kymri said, yet their face seemed as drawn as your own, and markers for something very close to disgust flared high within the manner of their words. "To find those who had opened a way between the stars, and to ensure they would never be able to harm them."

"Once it might have been different," they sighed, "but not now. Now the Tribute Fleet came, passed down our directives and a lesson of pain, and then left again. A world expertly crushed, so it was thought, like so many that had come before it."

To Witness Again: 74 – 30 (Scars of the Sorrows) + 15 (A World Worth Saving) = 59. Minor Success

You looked away then, trusting Sidra to listen for anything of value as the events played out around you. Your focus turned to Kalilah, who had taken a place beside you, her hands shaking as they ran through the carpet of life below her. Sparks of crimson spun between her fingers, the primal destruction that had served among humanity's most deadly weapons in the Second and Third Battles of Sol. A single touch of those, meant with intent, could have shattered the tower around you. And yet, even as the history so close to her own trauma played out before her eyes, she didn't move.

Instead her eyes stayed fixed on the image of Kymri, drinking in everything the Shiplord said, and everything they didn't. They spoke not a word of necessity, accepting in full the weight of the moral horror of their race's actions – inasmuch as any who let it happen could – and offering no excuse. Yet their face turned what would be pale in a human as the tale moved to the action of the fourth Tribute Fleet to visit the Zlathbu.

"Only one Collector was able to win far enough from the trap sprung upon them to successfully launch courier drones. Of those drones, only the two that fled into the space between stars survived long enough to charge their FTL drives. Despite their successes, that was a Directive that the Zlathbu did not break." They said, and the projection of the star system around you shifted. The asteroid belts flickered away, and the planets closest on each side to the Stellar Exclusion Zone for FTL bleached to silver. The same silver as the lifeless metal desert that covered the world upon which you stood.

"They had become adept in the workings of the Sixth Secret, so much so that they had developed a way to nullify the disruptors of the Tribute Fleets. When the Tribute Fleet approached the stellar exclusion zone of the star, passing close to one of the planets in search of battle with their fleet, they revealed the fruits of three generations of labour." Off to your left, the planet closest to the Tribute Fleet fractured, and silver tendrils boiled out through the seams, sucking away what little colour remained as they came. The metallic sheen swept out, wider and wider, the converted mass of an entire world reconfiguring into a vast net. And as the Tribute Fleet began to react, the planet before them, where the Zlathbu fleet had arrayed itself, underwent a similar transformation.

"Two of their system's twelve worlds, converted completely into highly sophisticated nanoforms that could nearly match the speed of Tribute Fleet vessels, and deployed in as close to a perfect ambush as the movements of planets made possible. The Tribute Fleet did all it could to escape, but in the end, we received only the two drones. And in the scans their doomed motherships had taken before being destroyed, we found a threat that we could not allow."

Kymri looked down, the expression far too human for your comfort despite how natural it looked. Perhaps that was the worst part of seeing the true face of your enemy. "Their nanoforms, given time, had the potential for limitless growth. None of us here today believe they set out to create them as a weapon, but their potential as one, now that it had been released, could not be allowed."

"In those times, there was a considerable movement still to return to what we had been, with the Directives secured against any repetition of the Hjivin Sphere. The Zlathbu had violated none of the Directives, instead stumbling upon a combination of factors without our knowledge that could threaten everything. So I, and others among the Hearthguard, prevailed upon the Authority to order High Command to pursue a campaign of containment instead of destruction."

In the project, the sleek forms of Regular Fleet vessels moved in around the star system, and the flickering presence of War Fleet ships moved to the edge of the star system, flanked by the flickering presence of War Fleet craft. "It was our hope that we might find a solution in diplomacy."

"Unfortunately," Kymri's tone soured, "the Tribute Fleets had learnt to do their jobs too well. Defiance and fear for their survival made the Zlathbu absolutely certain that we would immediately attack them if they lowered their defences. Looking back, it's possible that we could have fought harder against the visible deployment of Regular Fleet units, but hindsight makes the best of us look blind."

"With ships seemingly poised to obliterate them, and fear driving continued defiance, we begged for common ground. Some way that we could begin the long, slow process of building trust with a race that had been savaged by our own fears of what might be." The vision around you shifted again, showing what appeared to be recordings of diplomatic exchanges, all via lagless communication, and all ending in failure. A movement on your other side brought your attention to Iris, to find her staring with a similar intensity to Kalilah's at your narrator. And yet, even with the Masque hiding it, you could feel the tears running down her cheeks.

:Iris?: You sent delicately, spinning as much warmth and care into the message as you could. She never once looked away from the display.

:These recordings they're showing us, there are transcripts embedded in the projection. I can see them. And they go on for almost fifty years.: Your daughter replied haltingly. :Maybe it's fake, all an illusion, but after what you and Vega felt do you really think it is?:

You looked back at the projection, at the pain your translator – one built from Project Insight's discoveries and not Shiplord databases – made obvious in every line of the Shiplord's musculature. You stretched out your senses into the web around you, running the fingers of your soul carefully across a weave of pain and sorrow so ancient that the walls pulsed with its presence. And you remembered one of the few truths that Tahkel had been permitted to grant you by the other Uninvolved. That no matter their skill in other matters, the Shiplords had no ability, nor skill, in Practice.

:This story isn't over yet, Iris,: you sent back, forcing yourself to balance what you might hope for and what could still be revealed. :The transcripts might be true, this Shiplord and some like them might have tried. But if they did, they failed. And how they failed, how they explain it, that matters too.:

:What if they just ran out of time?: Iris asked, and you felt the pain of that question twist in your daughter's soul. :They said that they were able to-: she cut off suddenly, as the images around you faded back into a slowly turning vision of what had once been the star system. And Kymri's bearing swung to an awful solemnity.

"Yet despite everything, all the promises we won from the Authority, we could not defeat the fear that our people's first visit to the star had inflicted. And through it all, the Zlathbu continued to build, spreading their nanoform out across their entire star system." World after world vanished from the display as she spoke, breaking apart to release swarms of silvery nanotech that swirled within the boundaries of the star system.

"Every attempt to moderate their actions seemed to only drive them on, seeing the next boundary broken as the next step on the path to freedom. For cycle after cycle we fought to prevent pre-emptive action, matching our reason and hope against the possibility of threat. Eventually, inevitably, we failed."

Silver lanced up from the core of the lonely brown dwarf in the outer reaches of the star system, spreading with terrifying swiftness through its stormy clouds. Yet this mass did not join the vast swarm scattered across the star system, instead hurling itself inwards, towards the system's star.

"The Zlathbu began to construct a scaffold around their star, something that could only be the beginnings of a stellar collector." On the display, arcs of nanomaterial formed around the system's sun. "After the War of the Hjivin Sphere, where similar constructions were used so brilliantly against us, this proved too overt an action for our words to protect them. The Authority voted in full session, and the Zlathbu were handed an ultimatum: dismantle their construction or have it removed. To them, it was proof that everything we'd said up to that point had been lies."

"They fought, of course," Kymri continued, and the world around you shifted again, flicking between footage of battle after ancient battle. Images of Tribute Fleets matching themselves against the Zlathbu's brilliant tool, now turned entirely to the pursuit of war and lashing out from the safety of the Stellar Exclusion Zone. "But they knew only the first two of the Admiralty's fleets."

Weapons fire sprung from empty space around vast tendrils of nanotechnology, Sidra catching the flickering traces of War Fleet jumps behind them. Gravitic shear ripped through the undulating manipulators, devastating sections the size of continents. Against a nanomass so many times larger, it was less than a drop in the bucket, but as you watched the core project speed through month after month, the truth of the Shiplords' superiority in weaponry and logistics started to tell.

"It took years, of course," your narrator said, "but the outcome was never truly in doubt. The Zlathbu lacked First Secret drives, and without a stellar collector they could not sustain their nanomass against us. Eventually, they were forced to pull from their scaffold. First some," the scaffold shrunk, though it was barely noticeable, "and then more, as the needs of what they believed to be immediate survival overrode longer term plans."

"And when it was done, we made our offer again. They still possessed a vast concentration of nanomass, but their scaffold was gone, and they could not rebuild it even with the mass of their homeworld added to the mix. So we tried, and were granted a final chance. If the Zlathbu would disassemble the weapon they had created, and purge all details of its construction, we would withdraw in full and leave them to what future they wished to chart."

The figure looked down, uttering a sound that would have been a human's deep sigh. "They refused. And the worst thing is, I don't think we'd have acted any different, had we been in the same situation. We pride ourselves on our understanding of the world around us, but I wonder if that fixation, that which gave us the name we treasure, blinds us to something just as important." A twist of head and the shell about them followed quickly, a headshake and yet also more.

"So they refused, leaving the Authority with only option available to them. A War Fleet was tasked to escort and then deploy a stellar disruptor," the ship which materialised in the outer system was one no human had every truly seen, but you recognised its profile. That of a Shiplord starkiller. "And, as ever, that War Fleet succeeded."

Light bloomed at the heart of the star, an awful beauty representing the premature death of another of the fusion engines which had given every living creature known to humanity the ability to exist. How many had the Shiplords destroyed? Hundreds? Thousands? Around the single remaining world, the entire nanomass seethed, compressing down and down upon itself as if it could physically shield a world from the death throes of a murdered star. Then the light washed over it, over all of you, and then you were sitting once again amid an alien garden, the image of Kymri standing tall at its centre.

One of the projection's manipulators rose, extending towards the viewing portal. "When the blast wave passed, we found this world as it is today. Exactly what the Zlathbu's creation did is a matter for academics, but it's clear that it was trying to protect them. If we added another species to the dreadful tally our race has reaped upon reality, we don't know. On our return to the star system after the blast wave had passed, a full survey confirmed that none of the nanomass remained active."

"But in its last act, it created what you see beyond this gallery. A perfect sphere of burned out nanotech, wrapped around its creators' homeworld in a futile attempt to protect it. We failed the Zlathbu, we failed ourselves, but in this place we saw a chance to make that failure mean something." Again, the manipulator indicated the viewing pane.

"I led a battlegroup in the War of the Hjivin Sphere. I know from bitter experience the cost of allowing races to explore the Secrets without the far more restrictive Directives we give today. But when we began down this road, we weren't trying to be sovereigns. It was hoped that this place would add to the other hidden stars of the Hearthguard, to remind us of the question that I cannot believe we have found the proper answer to. To speak out, as I do now, that here lies the final resting place of a species that deserved freedom, not death. And to remember that it was our failing that led to the latter."

And with that, the projection burst apart into motes of light, that spiralled up to form a message in Shiplord script.

:It's a menu,: Iris recognised it first, her mental voice a little hoarse. :There are: your daughter paused, her masque flickering. :Historical files detailing their actions here. Recordings, testimonies, even diary entries from those involved in the action here. Elil,:

:Could use this to verify what the recording outlined?: You asked the Insight Focused, jumping on the question you were certain Iris had been about to ask. The dark-skinned man considered the question, before signalling a hesitant affirmation.

:I believe so,: he replied, the words gaining confidence as he sent them. :I can't give absolute certainty, but if this is all there, I can come close. Should I start now?:

And that was the question, wasn't it. You could, of course, remain here with those who would prefer not to venture beyond the tower, and view more records. Perhaps Iris would be able to discover why she hadn't been able to find any of the files stored here in the security network she'd subverted? Or you could leave some of your fellows here, and seek out the memorial between the towers in hopes of seeing how Shiplords today chose to remember the words you'd just heard. Though there was a danger there, if the memorial was not truly respected.

What do you do?
[X] Remain, and view further recordings – Opens up specific social interaction with Iris and Kalilah, as well as general interaction with those others who remain behind.
[X] Return with a small group to the memorial below, and seek out what it is to Remember – Continues to the other side of this place's spiritual relevance. Opens up possibilities to interact with a Shiplord civilian.

 

[Snowfire]

:Elil, start looking,: you ordered, and the Insight Focused bent immediately to the task as you turned to your daughter. :Iris, do you think you can help?:

She looked over at you, and something between a smile and a sob passed down the link between you. :I can, just…a moment, please?:

You reached out, settling a manipulator on the 'shoulder' of her Masque, the closest measure of affection to a hug that you felt you could make. :I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean to push.:

:I know,: her voice was very small, strengthening like a fitful wind. :And I'll want a hug when we're safely unmonitored.:

:Of course,: you said. What mother could have refused that request?

:But there was more to that display than just the audio-visual,: Iris continued, though not without a surge of gratitude for your reply. :I don't think Sidra or the other UI's saw all of it, but I couldn't not. Everything they did here, all the messages sent, the promises offered.: The small glyph representing a headshake flickered down the link.

:Failing here, in the way they see it as failure, hurt the parts of Shiplord society that built this place. And they weren't a small subset of their society; they can't have been. If they had, all that would have happened would have been destruction. There'd be no memorial.:

:And I wonder,: the words fell away into a breath. :They asked us to seek another way, after saying they'd tried them all. We know that they see the Tribute fleets as almost a sacred duty, but nothing Insight ever found suggested that it was truly religious. This place isn't exactly a place of worship, not in any way that we might define it, but it fits the definition of holy.:

:I can't gainsay that,: you admitted. Despite how the culture you'd grown to adulthood within was anything but what the pre-Sorrows society would term religious, or perhaps because of it, the terms of faith and religion had remained largely unchanged. :But I'm not sure I can see the star you're trying to point out here.:

:Look at this place, mom,: Iris said gently. :I know what you can do, at least most of it. Look at the life they've rebuilt here, the recreation of a world dead longer than humanity has known sapience.:

:What am I looking for?: You asked, yet even as you did you found the answer.

:To see if it's true.: your daughter sighed, moving away towards the central panel, her form shifting as she went. :I'll see what I can find inside the database. But I think your answer will be worth more.:

You let her go. She'd said her piece, and you trusted her like few others. If she said it was a good investment of your time, you believed it would be. Even if it was still a little odd to be on the other end of this conversation with your daughter. One of the joys of parenthood, you supposed.

:Before you do that, Mandy,: Vega's voice slid into your thoughts. :Mir and I are going to head back down, to see what they remember. There are two sides to this place, and no matter how real this one looks, we need to see what's down there, too. How they treat it will be just as important.:

It was probably more so, but you just couldn't face it. Not when you had others you needed to look to. Iris was stable for now, but it was a tenuous thing, held together by a flimsy weave of distraction. And then there was Kalilah, her presence a thing of boiling emotion, held in check only by a will that had endured the worst loss you could ever imagine. A loss mirrored in this place, and yet…

:Don't go there, Amanda,: her voice sounded in your mind, and you felt the edge beneath the quiet words. :I know who you are, what you've been. But please, don't.:

You sent the Unisonbound equivalent of a step taken back and received a very sad smile in return. :I know why we're here,: she continued, in that same fatal tone. :I know I can't simply level this place, like I wish I could right now.: Not that it was a matter of her incapability. Kalilah remained, with only one possible exception, the most singularly lethal human in your race's history. :But it doesn't stop me wanting to. For everyone we lost, and all the countless trillions more.:

:I'd like to say I understand, but we both know I can only come so close,: you said haltingly, and a sound too harsh to be laughter filled your ears.

:They've been around for millions of years, Mandy,: she snapped out bitterly. :Even if we take them at their word, even if we accept that this is true, how many races must have died at their hands? A thousand? Ten thousand? A million? What was so special,: her voice cracked, and you reached out instinctively, grounding out the destructive power literally radiating from within the First Awoken's Masque.

:What was so special, that they were judged worthy? Their capacity for destruction? No, no, that can't be it. If that was the case, they'd have tried to talk to us after I burned away a third of their last attack fleet. Why was this,: she whirled, gesturing viciously towards the room's window, :worth remembering, Mandy? Why did they even care?:

:I don't know, Kalilah,: you replied, tightly restraining the urge to offer comfort. You knew Kalilah well enough to know that would be the opposite of help. Despite how she'd changed, you could tell that much. :I don't know if any answer could ever be enough.:

:My daughter would have called me selfish, I think,: this time her voice did break, and your breath froze in your throat. Kalilah had lost her entire family in the Week of Sorrows, you knew that. But she'd never spoken more on it, and you'd never asked. It had always been clear that any company in that pain wasn't welcome. Which meant that when you reached out now, you did so very carefully, in a wordless motion of curiosity.

:She came of age in the days when there were only the possibilities that the First Secret opened, and dedicated her life to them.: The words carried with them heartbreak too deep to be called sadness. :Which is why she was an officer on one of the Cartographer ships out beyond Sol when the Shiplords found us.:

That explained so much, as you twisted your hands together and struggled to find the words to reply.

:You... you were close, weren't you?: You managed it at last, watching the harsh expression your voice brought to her features. Such a stupid question, why had you asked it?

:She was my daughter, Mandy.:

I'm sorry. Those two words stuck in your throat as you watched her shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath.

:I miss her.:

The words seemed to surprise you both, as she spun on her heels to pace the length of the room. :I miss hearing her laugh, seeing her smile. I miss the joy of listening to her speak about things I thought I had endless time to learn, and so neglected then. And I wish,: the flow of words sliced away, into a silence as utter as it was oppressive. You couldn't truly understand, you'd never lost a child, or even the whole of your family. But you could come close.

:I wish I could tell her that I'm sorry. That I should have been a better parent, that... that if she could just see me now, then maybe she would…: The sentence wasn't finished, and you knew you couldn't do it for her.

:This is everything she ever wished for,: she sent at last. :To find new worlds, old worlds, places where life had touched and still did. And we're standing here on one, further than any living human has ever been from home and I-: She broke off.

The Masque didn't let Kalilah display any physical tells of the desolation you could feel pouring from her. No, desolation was too weak a word. If it had, then you imagine she would be shaking with the effort of remaining outwardly calm.

:I won't find her here.: It was the closest you'd ever heard her to tears. :I won't see her again, no matter how far we go.:

Then she shook herself, and you felt the veil of years and loss slip away, yet it felt somehow lessened. :I'm sorry, Amanda. It's been, it's been a long time.:

:It's fine,: you told her smoothly. The feeling of a face smiling gently at you told you that she knew that wasn't quite true, but she let it slide.

:At least it's a nice view.: There wasn't much you could say to that. Except the truth.

:It's a real one,: you said. :What we can see around us is what this world used to be. Everything below, it's off, wrong. But here?: You made a sweeping gesture at the alien glade. :Here is true.:

:I suppose it is.: She sounded calmer now, and you felt a wash of relief. :If anyone would know, you would, Mandy. I just have to wonder, was anything that Shiplord said the same?:

:Honestly?: You didn't want for her to answer. :I'm not sure. I can only tell you what I feel. If you look for firmer answers,: you nodded towards where Iris and Elil were clustered around the holoprojector. :Look to them, Kalilah.:

:I will.:

The silence that fell afterwards was almost pleasant, like a velvet curtain drawn over the world, and it lasted a long time. Iris called you over eventually, seeking your advice on something that she didn't need help with, but had decided she wanted you there for. That was a good feeling.

You needed it, as the reality of this place slowly laid itself out before you. Iris and Elil delved deep into the tower's files, your daughter searching for any hidden storage, any areas that might contradict the initial presentation you'd watched. And Elil read and watched it all, his Unison Platform accelerating his perceptions to the point that they could keep up with Iris, if only barely.

The truth was a difficult one, especially when it would be so easy to wish for it all to be lies. Yet the further you dove, the closer you looked, the more and more it became clear that there was no lie. Not unless the entire place was one. Which left you at an impasse, both personally and as a leader. Vega and Mir would return to the shuttle once they were done, and the plan was to join them. But what would you do afterwards?

Vega could read the intent of a place far better than you could. You were better at the precise things, but she had a way of taking in the entire picture that you'd never seen matched. If she told you that the Shiplords who congregated below were true in their belief to the purpose that Kymri had described, you would not be able to dispute it. And the more you looked, the more you believed she would bring back just that message.

Yet if she did, did you have it within yourself to return to experience the same? You didn't know, and recognising that truth worried you. You'd accepted this mission with the premise that it might be possible to reason the Shiplords to a settlement. This place gave an example of them offering peace, at almost any cost. But only on their terms. You weren't sure that humanity could ever accept that. Terms from the Shiplords. You weren't sure you could, either.

It wasn't that you opposed peace. You wished for a peaceful universe, for a galaxy full of races that worked together for the benefit of all sentience. Where any and all were accepted, so long as they did not seek to bring harm upon the rest. A utopia, glorious and unrelenting. Humanity had found that within itself, and at a far younger age than the Shiplords. Yet you could still see the traces of some similar, ancient optimism in Kymri's recording.

What had changed?

You weren't sure. And you couldn't just ask someone here. No Shiplord would fail to recognise that as the question of an outsider, not after the second or third misstep that you would inevitably make. Practice gave you great power, but it granted at most limited clairvoyance, not omniscience. Yet one thing in the files, and the recording, drew your attention more than any other. Kymri had mentioned it, and further files and recordings that spoke for and against the actions of the Shiplords at this star did so too in places. The War of the Hjivin Sphere was not mentioned casually, but whenever the event's title did surface, it came with a weight that felt all too close to that of how your people spoke the Week of Sorrows. And with the right attention to detail, Elil had been able to roughly narrow down where the war had taken place.

There was only one hidden star system within that entire galactic quadrant.

You would be lying to yourself if you said that you didn't want to know more. But this wasn't just the whim of an inquisitive mind. There was... something else at work here. A calling, of a sort. One that you felt you must answer. That was an odd feeling. Your understanding of the universe had always led you down a path of understanding paired to insight, but this felt different. This felt like the universe was trying to guide you down a path to some greater understanding. Maybe that path would lead somewhere. Maybe it wouldn't.

But it was there.

What path does Amanda choose?
[] Return to the surface
-[] To see the remembrance of the Shiplords for herself.
-[] To uncover what secrets might hide within deep within the world.
[] Continue on
-[] to understand the War of the Hjivin Sphere. (Original option: The star of this system is notably smaller and dimmer than it should be, yet appears to still be stable.)
-[] to a red giant surrounded by a graveyard of shattered worlds.
-[] to the yellow sun, somehow twisted off its axis by some monumental stellar event. Three major planetary bodies remain.

 

[Snowfire]

August 18th​, 2130


"I think we're about done here," were your words to open the meeting, the day after your excursion to the Shiplord settlement. You were in the Adamant's wardroom with your senior staff, Mary and Iris in their own chairs. Most of your Heartcircle was present too, though that was an oddity, leaving the FSN officers outnumbered. If that bothered them, they gave no sign of it.

"In terms of actionable intel, my team largely agrees," Lieutenant Gilsan, your intelligence officer, reported. "One of the members of Sunburst would prefer a more detailed analysis of the planet, something I'm aware is shared by some members of the staff," he nodded towards Mary, "but they agree that the risks inherent in such an operation are too great. Once this is all over, perhaps."

He was only reporting an analysis, but you knew how difficult it had to be for Mary to nod in agreement. The mystery of what might be buried down below the nanoshell tugged at her rampant curiosity like nothing else. But she nodded anyway.

"I do want to know what's down there," she said, "but Sunburst are right. Given what the Shiplord records say was their reason to commit genocide here, they won't ignore changes in planetary structure, no matter how slight. Even with Iris subverting control of the surveillance systems, we can't be certain that we'd be able to leave everything exactly as we found it."

"Then we move on," Jane said, adding her agreement to your opening remarks. "If there's nothing more here for us, nothing we can safely access, then we need to keep going. We'll have been here for three weeks by the time we're safely outside of the system's shield."

The worry in her voice was one you all shared. Insight's latest reports on your departure had put a War Fleet response a month away from Sol at most. By the time you arrived at your next target, it was likely that that battle would already be over.

"We'll need to make sure that our presence in the security system is purged," Jane continued, her voice clipped as Iris stirred in her seat.

"I'll do it," your daughter said. "But I'm keeping a copy of the truth. And I will come here to return it, once this is finished."

"As you wish. I trust you to do your job," Jane replied.

Iris nodded, but said nothing.

"Thank you," you said. You had some inkling of what that meant to Iris. What she'd done to the AI that secured this system had been nothing short of horror. Her desire to maintain ownership of that action was deeply heartening, and utterly terrifying. She hadn't deserved this, but she'd come anyway. How many more times would she have to break one of the deepest tenets of your society?

"Don't borrow trouble, mom," she said sharply, noticing your attention. "I'll be fine. I didn't create the holds that bind them. It doesn't help much, and I don't want it to do more, but it's something."

You ducked your head in solemn acknowledgement, and she smiled faintly in return.

"Vega," you said, "we've read your report on the Remembrance, but I think it might be best to hear a direct account."

"Of course," the Harmional smiled sadly. "Whatever truths we might discover in the systems that follow this one, I can say this with certainty. To those here, the loss and sorrow of this place are very real. The reasons for it do matter, of course, but I couldn't ask those without revealing too much."

She waved an arm, and a virtual display flickered into existence above the table. An image took shape; a great amphitheatre, large enough to fit thousands and full of Shiplord forms. At the centre of it all a dark pillar thrust skyward. "This," Vega said, "is the closest thing that we have found to a tomb for the Zlathbu, though not one of their race's making. I cannot explain in words how it felt to walk in that place. There is heartbreak and sorrow within so great as to break your heart, and it makes me glad that you never chose to visit it, Mandy.

"I can't say if those who allowed for its creation believed in its purpose, but I know what falsehood feels like." She shivered at the memory. "This wasn't it. But there's more, too. Despite our limitations in knowledge, Mir and I were able to speak to a few of the Shiplords present. The full transcripts are in my report, but a singular message comes through very clear."

"What's that?" you asked.

"They want to find a better way," she said softly. "Every one of them expressed regret, but there was a fatalism to it. Like nothing they could do would ever be enough. It's odd to consider, and hard to accept, let alone understand. We know that the Shiplords have killed trillions, and we've seen very little to convince us that any of this is real."

"But it's real to them," you said. "The feelings are real, the emotions are real."

"Yes," she nodded. "And of the three we talked to, all expressed a wish for a system that didn't kill so indiscriminately. That doesn't excuse them of anything," she said sharply. "The Shiplords are mass-murderers on a scale we can't even imagine. But their civilian population, what we've seen of it, appears to only go along for so long as it appears to be the only game in town. Why they believe that's so, I don't know. We couldn't ask. But one of them," she paused, then gestured to Mir. "You talked with them."

"Yes," Mir said. "Jirzhan said that if it were not for the Sphere, and those like them, that the Authority might have allowed for less restrictive measures. Given your own discoveries within the Witnessing Towers, it would seem to make our next destination clear. If there is some," the man swallowed, his Focus of Peace clearly making it difficult to continue. "If there is any explanation to what they have done, I believe we will find it there."

"That was the feeling I got as well," you said, then paused, glancing around the table. "Would there be any opposed?"

There weren't.

"Then I believe we have our next destination." You turned to Jane. "Commander Cyneburg, take us out of this system with all due haste."

"Yes ma'am." Jane stood, looking across the table. "Vega, Elil, I need you both on station for this. I don't want even a flicker in our stealth systems as we move away from the planet."

"Of course," the two replied.

"Will you be joining us, ma'am?" Jane asked you, already at the door.

You shook your head. "No, Jane. Not right now."

"Of course," she nodded a casual salute, and then was gone. Perhaps a minute later, you felt the gentle hum of the Adamant's drive rouse to life, pulling you away from the planet below.

Turning in your seat, the wall to the side of the conference room seemed to fade out of existence, revealing the space beyond. It had been a beautiful star system once, if the Shiplord data was to be believed. And now...it was this. A cold shell of dead silver, cast in the slowly fading light of a dead star. Beautiful still, in its way. But it was a beauty of desolation.

It was fortunate, then, that you were interrupted before your thoughts could stray too far down that road. Mary settled into the seat next to you. She'd been uncommonly quiet since your return, buried in her work. You'd thought it was more than that, but hadn't wished to push. Now your oldest friend let out a long sigh, and let her head drop to rest on your shoulder.

"Have you looked at the data for our destination?" she asked.

"Not yet," you said. "I'll read it before we exit system."

"Make the time, Mandy," she told you. You looked over, surprised by her tone. It was almost frightened.

"What is it, Mary?"

"Nothing specifically about our destination," your friend shifted, slumping more firmly onto your side. "It's what's around it, in the path leading towards what we know to be core Shiplord space."

"What is it?" You asked.

"There are more than two dozen white dwarf systems scattered across that space, Amanda. Thirty-one in total. Yet our destination still possesses its original star. How can that be?" You didn't have an answer to that question. But then, she wasn't asking for one.

"That," you swallowed, "must have been a war."

"I imagine we'll be finding out soon enough," Mary said, shifting again as your two chairs fused into one. "I have lab work to do, but could we stay like this, just for a while?"

As if she needed to ask. "Of course."

Your departure from the graveyard of the Zlathbu was far less complicated than your arrival had been. You did not take one of the gates out of the system, as the nature of First Secret drives made it too dangerous a possibility to be spotted emerging from the gate as another ship arrived. But you could afford to be slightly less concerned as you opened your own pathway, slipping out through the spiralling layers of distorted topology into open space. You took the time to check all systems again after the transition and confirm your destination coordinates. Then you were gone.

---

The Adamant's jump was as seamless as the last one, though you'd paid more attention this time. It was almost as if the space you'd glimpsed, where you'd met Tahkel, was wrapped around you when you jumped, but what did that imply? A matter for later, though one you made sure to note for Mary. Maybe she'd be able to work something out on your way in-system. You'd come out under full stealth, the imperceptible energy burst of your jump drained silently away by the drive itself.

The shell before you was much the same as the first you'd encountered, though there was an odd feeling to it. As if it were somehow endlessly older than the one constructed around the Zlathbu's star, despite the clear reference to it. How long could Shiplords live? The question tugged at you again, though it was still the wrong one. How long would a Shiplord choose to live, was more correct. You didn't know, and you wished you did.

The star before you was a yellow sun, dimmer than expected for its age, but still lively. Of course, to truly measure that, you had to pass through the system shield. Fortunately, you'd gained a great deal of understanding from your first encounter with the creations of twisted spacetime. The only real challenge was finding a place secure from the sensors of the larger number of ships flickering in and out of space around the system. Fortunately, all of them were concentrated around the gate points.

On the bridge of the Adamant, you took a deep breath.

"Take us in."

Through the Veil: 84 + 20 = 104

The transition through the system shield was easier than the last, but you could feel the pressure on your mind as you slipped through the sensor net. You barely had to open an aperture this time, but that actually made the transit harder to control. In truth, the challenge had been almost a little more than you should have set yourself. But it had served a greater purpose in providing more data on the system shields...and in another way that you only discovered on entry.

"What are we looking at, Lieutenant?" Jane's voice was taut as the symbols on your displays resolved.

"Two Regular Fleet profiles," Jozef answered quickly. "Having a hard time locking in the class, but they're too big to be anything but dreadnoughts. Split between each of the lifebearing worlds. And those...ma'am, you're not going to believe this."

"Believe wha-" Jane's voice choked off abruptly as the symbols for the planets flashed twice, before settling onto a very familiar designation. "They're still lifebearing?"

"Yes ma'am." The Sensor's Lieutenant sounded as confused as you felt. "There's more data coming in, but I'm having a hard time making any sense of it."

"Commander, Miss Hawk," a virtual panel sprang up between you and Jane. "This is Sunburst, Megan speaking. Sending imagery."

Any response you might have had died unspoken as the imagery came through. It wasn't perfect; the Adamant's visual sensors were still realigning after the transit through the shield. But it was enough. There were cities down there, or at least the remnants of them. You could make out a few foundations, remnants of towers and other structures. It was like some vast blowtorch had reached down from orbit and wiped away everything else to leave only flat, empty spaces. Almost all of it now reclaimed by nature.

"Whatever happened here, this is unlike anything we've seen from the Shiplords," Megan continued, the analyst's voice soft. "These worlds aren't lifeless. There's just nothing intelligent left. And look," the image shifted. "Here."

On the second world out from the sun, an enclave had been constructed within the shell of a burned away city. Shiplord construction, and different to what you'd seen before. More sturdy, certainly older. The Zlathbu had offered you the chance to observe a memorial, but this had to be more than that. What was this all for? You turned to the only person who might be able to answer that question.

"Iris, what are you getting from the system net?" You asked. Your daughter grimaced, but her voice didn't waver.

"The two ships, I think they're decommissioned. As if they're more here for history than any sort of protection. But that city," there was a moment of silence. "It might be easier to simply read what this says, Amanda."

"Of course," you said. Your daughter swept her hand up, light sparking around it, and a new panel opened. Visible to the entire bridge crew, and it read:

'Be welcome to this place of vanquished horrors, though not by our hands. Here stand the birthworlds of the Hjivin Sphere, our last true Enemy. Here we remember what they were, and what they might have been. Those who died to defeat them. And all those lost, by the trust we gave without question. This was not our first failing. But it may well have been our greatest.'

Initial scans reveal several points of interest within this system. As in the Zlathbu home system, you may investigate as many of them as you wish. Please rank the following options from high to low with 1 being the highest. Amanda will focus on that option first, then work down. Any developments will grant new decisions on what to investigate first.

[] Regulars - Two Shiplord Regular craft, their profiles beyond ancient, orbit the life bearing worlds of this system. Why are they here?
[] The Untamed - The closer world to the system's odd sun, this one appears to lack any Shiplord presence beyond the Regular Fleet dreadnought in high orbit. What secrets might those dead cities hold?
[] The Inhabited - The second planet, this one is home to a true Shiplord enclave. You've visited one safely thus far, why not another?
[] A Troubled Sun - Something is amiss with this system's star. You cannot tell what. Perhaps you should find out.
[] Write-in? Ping me with any write-in options and I will add any acceptable ones to the list.

There will be an eighteen hour moratorium on this vote.​

 

[Snowfire]

You felt the chill that ran through the bridge crew as they finished absorbing the message. When the Shiplords had talked of the Zlathbu, or any other race that Insight had been able to find records for, they never referred to them as an enemy. Yet here, they did, and the dead systems scattered between here and the galactic core were terrifying in their silent testimony as to what that word must mean.

You could feel the eyes of every crew member on you. Captain, in this moment, but also much more. If this was how the Shiplords faced a race they considered a true foe, what did that mean for humanity? Nothing good, no doubt, but that wasn't something you could say. Despite everything, you were still remembered more for those moments where you'd stood as a champion for your species than for what you'd done as President so that you wouldn't have to. Right now the people here needed the former, the symbol that you'd never been comfortable being.

It was good that you could give it to them. It would not protect them against the Shiplords, but it would always be welcome.

"This is why we're here," you told them. "To find out the truth, no matter how hard it might be. To understand why the Shiplords believe all they do is right, and to find a way past it, so that no species ever has to become another of their memorials."

The chill subsided. No one could forget the last message of the Shiplord Regular Fleet before they retreated from Sol, but you repeated it anyway. "They asked us to try and find another way. That's what we came to do. They said they'd tried everything; let's see if they were right." You nodded at the star before you. "Captain Cyneburg, plot a course in-system towards the star. Let's start with what's furthest from their centres of activity. A star this small shouldn't look so young."

It wasn't exactly the whole truth, of course. But a firm goal on your journey in-system would give everyone aboard something to focus on. Given the message you'd just read, and that would be known shipwide within minutes, that was going to matter. And it was strange. A main-sequence star of its composition shouldn't be so small at this stage of its lifecycle, not if it had formed naturally. So what had been done here? Data collected from the grave of the Zlathbu had given you the term Stellar Collector, which had obvious implications. But Mary had been adamant that pulling down that sort of infrastructure would be nearly impossible to hide.

So how could this be?

You were suddenly aware of the presence of Mary next to you, shaking her head as she looked over your shoulder. "I don't get it either," she muttered. "A star like this shouldn't be here at all. Everything we've modelled on starlifting points to that conclusion. It shouldn't be possible to dismantle a mining frame after the scale of operations required for the spectral analysis here to make sense. There aren't enough heavy elements in the core."

"And yet, here we are," you replied as you scanned the next image. "With evidence to the contrary right front of us." You scratched your chin, considering, putting on a good show almost despite yourself. "It's a mystery."

"Says the one who won't be demystifying it," Mary snarked, but you didn't miss the flash of interest in her eyes. "I'll be in the labs. I need my full setup for this."

---

The journey in-system was tense. In the last one, you'd been able to secure control of the stellar infonet and the AI running wide-area security to ensure that any flickers in the Adamant's stealth wouldn't be noticed. Here, with two Shiplord dreadnoughts present, that was just too dangerous. Which meant everything had to be perfect - and you had no idea how you were going to safely land shuttles. There was a protocol for this situation, buried in the Trailblazer logs, but it had never been tested.

Of course, neither had the Masques and they'd worked fine when you visited the Shiplord memorial. But you weren't willing to feel very confident. That was a dangerous place to be, especially after you crossed the Stellar Exclusion Zone. Both planets lay within it, but you were going even further in and that would make escape challenging if you were detected. Still, it had been your choice, and it provided your survey section an abundance of time to properly chart the system.

That exercise provided a wealth of knowledge as to the system itself, and its two very habitable worlds. There were civilian craft scattered all across the system, concentrated into a large flotilla around the ancient dreadnought in fixed orbit above the Shiplord enclave. The other military craft was more lonely, but not entirely so. A handful of civilian ships held the same orbit, alongside another vessel almost as old as the dreadnought. Most strangely, its profile was not one any of you recognised. Shiplord work, yes, but not anything you'd seen before.

Yet all that paled before the mystery that you found yourself staring into as you approached the star, sensor fidelity growing with every passing hour. The star was too small; you'd seen signs of that even before leaving Sol. But as the Adamant had forged deeper into the Stellar Exclusion Zone, her sensor crews had confirmed its scale. No sun of this composition should exist at this size, and yet here it was. But that wasn't the most telling thing.

Stellar Echoes: 100 + 52 = 152. Nat 100 reroll! 52.
QM Note: Whyyyyyyy? I'm not even bothering with modifiers.

"I'm still not sure if I'm right," Mary said, pacing back and forth in front of a virtual display as it ran through a simulation again. She'd been working nonstop on this for almost three days now, and you'd known better than to push the issue. That she was willing to discuss the matter without being certain spoke to how deeply it must have rattled her.

"What else could those trails be?" Jane asked. "Minister Sharpe ensured that we got the best sensor system available. If it says that these echoes are present, what other explanation exists?"

"As far as I know, none," Mary sighed. Her green eyes were more haunted than you'd seen them since you'd admitted to having been contacted by one of the Uninvolved. "But the implications if we're right are more than I can easily describe. We've known that the Shiplords allow the Uninvolved to come into existence, and that the Uninvolved will not oppose them for fear of destruction. But what could have made them act here to help the Shiplords?"

"It's too coincidental for it not to be connected," Jane agreed, flicking her hand towards the simulation as it began another repetition. "We know that Practice and the work of the Uninvolved can leave echoes. There's no other cause that we know of."

"The Shiplords have insisted that they have a reason for what they're doing," she continued. "They've told us that one day we'd call them friend, and all but begged us to find another solution beyond destruction to whatever problem they believe vindicates them."

"That's true," you said, staring as the image of a star compressed and stabilised before you, reality shifting to accommodate a new state of affairs. "But–"

"But even if that were the case," Mary interjected, "this is bigger than anything we've ever seen. It implies things about the relationship between Shiplord and Uninvolved that everything we know tells us can't be true. The Shiplords have spent at least half a million years enforcing oppression and fear on pain of genocide. But this star, and these worlds, are older than that." Two million years was the best guess. "Whatever exactly happened here between the Hijvin and the Shiplords, I think Jane's right. There are only two options we know of that could explain these readings. Either the Uninvolved had a hand in its ending, or some race capable of wielding Practice did."

The latter had to be impossible. It had to be. But if it was, then how had the Shiplords recognised Practice?

"We can't afford to dismiss the possibility, can we?" You sighed, and Mary shook her head.

"No, we can't."

"But if there were, what happened to them?" You asked, gesturing sharply at the simulation. "That isn't just power, Mary, it would've required skill in manipulating Practice beyond anything we've ever seen." You'd run the numbers once, and you were relatively confident in your ability to keep a star from going nova, if you were there at the right time. But this was something different. Not bigger, but unimaginably more thorough.

"I don't know," Mary replied, but her eyes flickered to the side. She knew, just as you did. If there'd been such a race, they'd died. But if that had been the case, and for all their power they'd still lost? You shook your head swiftly, whipping it back and forth fast enough that the room swam for a moment. Insight had shown the possibility of victory, and Tahkel had told you that it was there, too. Which, you hoped, made the more logical conclusion the former.

"Then why would the Uninvolved work with the Shiplords?" Jane spoke, cutting to the end of your realisation with her question.

"Why do enemies ever bury their differences?" Iris said through the room's speakers. Of course she'd been listening.

"Because something threatened them both." Mary replied, her face paling. "But what could do that? And if the Hijvin Sphere did that, then why – wait." A gesture pulled up a haze of screens around her, and her fingers flared out, parting them as she sought one in particular. "There it is."

Her hand flicked out, and the display expanded out to displace the current simulation. "This is data we've gathered at long range from the two habitable worlds, where we can still find the remains of ancient cities," Mary explained. "I knew I was missing something!"

She gestured and the data spooled out, joined a moment later by similar information from the star. "Jane, what have your tactical specialists had to say about those areas?"

"There's no weapon we know of that could do something like that, not so cleanly," the FSN officer replied smoothly. "It's like something reached down from above and wiped those cities away. Two million years is a long time to heal, but those places are still very evidently what they were. One of my officers compared them to burn scars."

You nodded. "They heal, but they're never really gone."

"Exactly," Jane confirmed. "But what does – oh."

"Oh?" You asked, your own mind spinning, trying to follow the logic.

"Look at these," Mary said, shifting the patterns to raw imagery. "These places used to hold life, and they do now too. But life changes things, and there's been two million years for these places to shift and heal Amanda. These haven't. Just like the star. And that makes the conclusion very clear."

Kalilah could wipe a city from reality, of that you had little doubt. But Mary was right. She couldn't make that destruction stick, and if she could, not for this long. This place had not been merely touched by the Uninvolved, it had been wiped clean. The Shiplords had allowed such action, and the Uninvolved had taken it. It made no sense. If the Shiplord could compel actions, then humanity's access to Practice would have been discovered decades prior to the Tribute Fleet's return.

"But that doesn't answer the question of why," you said, yet it was almost an afterthought in the moment.

"No," Jane agreed, her eyes hardening. "It doesn't. But I don't think we're going to get an answer here, with scans or hypotheses. Maybe it was something that threatened them, but this was two million years ago. What if things were different then?"

"We could try to visit one of those scars," you pointed out, though something in you shied away from the very thought. Still, you forced yourself through it, the feeling of hesitant fear all too unwelcome. "Vega or I might be able to glean at least something from it, and the less observed world could still hold some information."

"Riskier," Jane pointed out respectfully. "The planet without an enclave still has a Shiplord dreadnought, and it'll be harder to hide shuttle activity when there's none there to begin with. And we have the example of the Zlathbu for what the Shiplords build in these systems. It might be different here, but I'm not sure there's a better option.""

"Trying to examine one of those scars could be worth it, though," Mary said quickly, yet you heard the worry in her voice. "The world with the Enclave will have controls on where we can go. If we can get down onto the other one, we'll be a lot freer to move within our landing area. And these scars did leave some remnants behind. I doubt the Uninvolved would leave anything they considered a danger behind, but that might not include everything."

Both of them were right. The question was who you agreed with more? It had always been your plan to explore both those worlds. You'd intended on visiting the one without a Shiplord enclave first, but this new information was quite telling. Did you still wish to proceed that way? You didn't know what the Uninvolved might have considered so dangerous as to wipe a system of intelligent life. A threat to the Shiplords was one thing. A threat to the Uninvolved, excepting the Shiplords, was another.

Maybe things had changed in the time since this war and now. Maybe they had not. Yet the decision of how to proceed from here was yours. Continue as planned, or choose a different focus?

Do you proceed as planned to the next planned objective or pick a new one?
[] Yes – Continue to the untamed world, lacking a Shiplord enclave. Perhaps closer scans will reveal what the odd ship in orbit is there for.
[] No – Change your plans, and seek a new goal within this system.
-[] The Inhabited - The second planet, this one is home to a true Shiplord enclave. You've visited one safely thus far, why not another?
-[] Regulars - Two Shiplord Regular craft, their profiles beyond ancient, orbit the life bearing worlds of this system. Why are they here? Approach, and attempt to discover the truth.
-[] Write-in?

 

[Snowfire]

Seeing where Jane had been looking on the scans, you nodded slowly. "If we're going to do a search at all, I agree that it looks the best place to start. The safe bet is the world the Enclave is on, but it's exactly that: The safe bet. And I'm not convinced it's where we should be looking. We have no idea what we might find down on that empty world, and there has to be a reason for the dreadnoughts to be split."

"It could be simply symbolism," Iris pointed out, still talking through the room's speakers. "Two worlds, two ships. There's a symmetry there, and it's not as if travel time is an issue."

You shook your head, struggling with a sudden spike of tension in your shoulder. Something in that assumption worried you. But how could you explain it in a way that would make sense?

"That's true, Iris," you said delicately, "but there's that other ship in orbit. We have no idea what it is, just that it's as old as the dreadnoughts."

:Possibly older.: Sidra sent, broadcasting to everyone in the room in a rare moment of direct involvement. :And Amanda has a point. Visiting the enclave isn't up for debate. But we should take every available opportunity to understand this place first. We made it through the Zlathbu's memorial thanks to Iris, Practice and luck. We only have two of those this time. We shouldn't push it.:

:Thanks, Sidra.: You squeezed your eyes shut, before opening them again. "I understand the security issues. I know that it'll be harder to hide a shuttle trip down to that world, especially when we don't know what that other ship in orbit is. But I also know that Trailblazer was designed for this."

You took a long breath, focusing on the feeling, letting it calm you. "We could send a probe down first. If there's nothing worth seeing there, we can always leave an observation post on the ground. There's enough life and ruins down on the planet to hide a small one."

"But you don't think there's going to be nothing," Jane said, and something in her tone told you she already knew the answer.

"No." You shook your head firmly. "I think there's something."

"So a shuttle, then," Jane said, her lips thinning into a brittle smile. "I know that tone, Amanda."

You started to reply, to try to say something, but she shook her head. "With what we're dealing with, no probe will be able to properly deal with anything it might find down there. That'll need you or Vega. And at that point, you're both going to go."

"Well, not alone." You said, in what you were certain should have been a reasonable tone. "We'll have Kalilah too."

"She'd be going either way." Jane replied. Her lips pressed together hard, levelling her smile into a firm line. This was your second in command speaking, not the woman you'd come to call a friend. "I trust your judgement, but you're not going anywhere in this system without her."

"And you should take a relay down," Mary added, her interruption a welcome break to the concern that had taken charge of the conversation. "I know it's not safe for me to leave the Adamant, even for a world we think is uninhabited. But if I can't see this with my own eyes, you're going to give me the best sensor coverage you can." It was a reasonable assumption on her part, but it raised a question. Mary was slower than any of the Unisonbound or Iris, even with mental accelerators, and that had made the idea of taking her into a Shiplord enclave far too dangerous. Here, however?

"I'm not sure the safety concerns would be wholly justified in this case, Mary." You considered. "If the planet only has animal life, it opens up the option of taking you down with us."

"The risk," Jane pointed out, and Mary frowned. You saw the exact moment as she brought up her own list of reasons why this was a bad idea, but you pressed on.

"Isn't insurmountable." You said stubbornly. "And this isn't just about letting my friend go down to an alien world for the first time. You're the best expert humanity has on Practice, Mary. This is close enough, and we both know there's a value to personal presence."

Your friend's face paled, yet that only made the sudden flare of excitement in her eyes all the more obvious. "I'm not saying we make the decision right now," you continued, holding those eyes with your own. "But it's something that should be on the table if we can land a shuttle. Vega and I, we look for things through our own lenses. Yours is much wider."

"And I might see things that you'll miss," Mary bowed her head, but she didn't let the motion break your gaze. This discussion was much older than this mission, and you both knew when it was time to put it on hold. "When we reach the planet, then."

Jane looked between you, and her lips twitched. Something about the way she did so was oddly familiar, and it took you a few seconds to realise why. Amelie had done that sometimes. Before you could comment, though, she spoke.

"I'll redirect us to the untouched world." Her lips twitched again. "And inform the intelligence teams that our focus is shifting in line with planned priorities. They'll be happy about that."

"Go." You told her, unable to restrain a smile.

"Yes ma'am," Jane saluted, and exited the lab. Mary gave you an odd look, and you felt the question on her lips. The desire to be certain of your reasons. It was an odd thing, to know someone so well and still not be certain of their motives. But you couldn't fault the concern, not with the stakes this high.

"I meant what I said," you told her gently, stepping closer to catch one of her hands, the motion as natural as breathing.

"I know." She squeezed your hand. "You'd have thought I'd have learnt better by now."

"No," you shook your head, brushing a hand across your friend's pale cheek, the virtual screens around her refracting around your fingers. "That would be asking you to be less than you are. And I'm never going to do that." You took a step closer and turned, bringing you into the orbit of virtual panes.

"Where should we start?" You asked. Mary looked over at you, biting her lip, and Iris' laugh bounced from the speakers.

"Did you think she'd just leave you to it, mom?" Your daughter asked.

"Perhaps I did," Mary smiled. Then she flicked at the air and more than a dozen virtual panes faded into standby mode. Another gesture and every piece of data the Adamant had been able to gather on the untouched world spread itself out around you. "But if you're so determined to be helpful, and you're sure you have the time?" You tapped the air in front of you and your day calendar unfurled.

Mary studied it for a moment, then leant against you. "Well then." One of the panels expanded to fill the space in front of you. "Let's start on the ruins. We'll leave the ship to the intelligence team."

---

You were nearing orbital insertion by the time you were done. There'd been an abundance of data on the world, just as there was on the other, but even with the best computers and minds available it took time to decipher. That process wasn't even close to being finished, but you were close enough to an answer that leaving the lab environment for more than required duties was something you could accept.

Which led you back to the wardroom, and the meeting of senior staff that had become as routine as your old cabinet meetings. This time, though, your Intelligence officer didn't seem that happy. You hoped you'd not stepped on any toes with your demands for more in-depth scans on the planetary environment.

:Jane would never let you.: Sidra pointed out, their certain calm quashing the fleeting worry before it could spread into something more. :They must have had trouble with their assignment.:

:Or they found something that will make this excursion more difficult,: you sent back with a grimace. It wasn't that your data was all good, there just wasn't anything in it that had really changed your mind. Just the context of your opinions. In fact, well – you shook your head. Open the meeting first, you told yourself.

"Thank you all for coming," you said, doing just that. You'd been the last to arrive this time, and everyone took their seats on cue. You wished they wouldn't, but cabinet meetings had taught you the futility of arguing the point. You wanted to jump immediately to what you'd helped Mary find over the last few days, but it was better to work from out in when you wanted to actually land on the planet. Getting past the ships in orbit was step one.

"Lieutenant Gilsan," you said. "Your team has been looking at ships around the planet, I believe."

"Yes ma'am." The man stood, the display of the star system hovering above the table shifting to focus on the area around the planet. A small glowing dot indicated your position, just short of its edge. "Charting the orbitals of the planet was simple enough, there's not much here. We have the dreadnought, the small civilian cluster." Gold light flowed into the holo to highlight the ships, leaving one conspicuously unmarked.

"And then there's this one." The intelligence specialist smiled restlessly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Long range analysis has confirmed that it's even older than the dreadnoughts here. Some of my team think we might actually be looking at pre-militarisation Shiplord design philosophies. Unfortunately, that's where the good news ends."

"What do you mean?" You asked.

Orbital Analysis: 13

"Because that's the few things about it that I can give you with any certainty." Gilsan shook his head, the skin around his eyes tightening. "Sunburst are good, ma'am, but they're not Project Insight, and we have almost nothing to work with here. The only other point of note is that the craft is far more electronically active than any other ship in the system. Our first guess was a science craft, but the few other details we've found since have made us reconsider. Our best guess right now, and I must emphasize that it is only that, is that it's an exploration vessel. Like the Cartographer series humanity sent out before the Week of Sorrows were too."

"Rather large for an exploration craft, isn't it?" Vega asked, and the lieutenant shook his head again, more firmly this time.

"The Cartographers weren't small, Miss Cant," he replied. "But even the last ones launched by humanity were largely prototypes. Given the needs of interstellar exploration, especially with the limitations of First Secret drive technology, a vessel this size would make sense as a long-range explorer."

"But you're not certain," you said.

"No." Gilsan sighed. "Its sensors don't appear to be focused beyond comfortably encompassing the planet, and none of the signals we've detected have been going down to the planet. But it's acting as a communications hub for something. And if our best guess is right, I'd expect those sensors to be excellent."

"Do you believe it could jeopardise a landing attempt?" The question from Jane was immediate, and expected. Her subordinate shrugged helplessly.

"Higher danger due to unknown factors, certainly," he replied crisply. "But if that would be enough to endanger a landing party? I'm sorry ma'am, I can't say. We don't have enough data."

"We might be able to add a little to that," you said.

"What did you find?" Gilsan asked, looking between you and Mary. You nodded to your friend. This was hers; you'd only helped.

Planetary Analysis: 99

"An answer," Mary said, swiping the dataset from her tablet up onto the holo. The planet shimmered, then its atmospheric layer started to glow with the light of a thousand motes of diamond. "The Shiplords have seeded the atmosphere with microsatellite clusters."

She made a lazy motion with one hand, and the image changed again. "This is our best guess on their specs, but we weren't able to confirm their existence until a few hours ago." It was something of a dodge, but given your involvement, it was a fair one. Sidra and Iris had full access to intelligence modelling, and were entirely capable of supplying it as they'd done here.

Your intelligence officer made a contemplative sound as he studied the outputs. "They're too precise to be civilian grade, but there's none of the hardening we'd expect in military models." He looked from the display to Mary. "Do you have any idea what they're looking at?"

"We think so." Mary nodded, her expression suitable grave. Yet you could see the excitement behind it, an echo of the moment where you'd realised what you were seeing. "Our initial scans pointed towards it, but we had to do a lot of in-depth work to be certain. Whoever the Hjivin Sphere were, they're not the only form of intelligent life native to this solar system anymore."

"What?" Jane's question was barely a whisper.

"We're as certain as it's possible to be," you added, answering the immediate question. "And it would explain the presence of an additional ship assigned here."

"I'm not sure-" your intelligence officer began, before you interrupted him with a raised hand.

"A moment." You glanced at the rest of your command staff, then returned your gaze to him. "Mary?"

Your friend nodded. "Everything our scans have detected point to the same conclusion. Whatever was done to wipe out the Hjivin only destroyed them. It left the remaining natural ecosystem intact - and I make that point because there's no visible Second Secret manipulation here." She gave a brief smile. "I'm not an intelligence specialist, but I know biology."

"The Hjivin were wiped out at least a million years ago, but life persisted. There wasn't a full-scale ecological collapse, but it must have taken considerable damage for this to have taken so long." She indicated the display, green eyes bright.

"The new life down there is barely past the point of sapience if it is at all – there are some rough approximations to human stone-age culture, such as it was." Mary chuckled to herself a moment. "That said, I've little experience in palaeontology, and the details aren't exactly relevant right now."

"What is relevant," you said, taking up from the pause as Mary rubbed at her eyes, "is how it could complicate our mission here. If the Shiplords are observing the development of a primitive species, there could be more than those satellites."

Gilsan nodded slowly, his expression turning steadily more concerned. "They could have autonomous observation platforms down there to complement the microsat clusters. Getting samples would be important to work out what they could do safely." You blinked, and shot the man a questioning look. That was an answer you hadn't expected.

"I read up on our first contact protocols before this mission, ma'am," he explained ruefully. "And we actually do have one for this sort of situation, though most of this one is older than the Sorrows. We have no idea what Shiplord observation protocol involves, but I can't imagine it's just watching from a distance."

"So we have new security concerns," Jane said, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. "And you still want to take Miss D'reve down there?"

[][Mary] "I do," you replied. "If we can get down there at all, we're not going to be able to transmit live. And I think we'll need the best scientific mind we have for what's down there."
[][Mary] "It's difficult to say so now," you admitted, the words heavy. "Even if we can get down there, without the Masques providing safety in their disguise mechanism it's probably not safe to risk her.
[][Mary] Write-in?

"That's less important than actually getting down there to begin with," Mary added, unperturbed by a reply you'd both already discussed. "We have to bow to the expertise of Lieutenant Gilsan and his team."

"Well that's something." Jane's reply could have been cutting, but it brought a small smile to your lips instead. She sighed, nodding to her subordinate. "Lieutenant, what do you make of this?"

Gilsan's eyes flickered back and forth across the readouts, and you recognised the signs of cognitive acceleration. He was trying to take it all in as fast as possible, so that you could get at least a basic answer. Twenty seconds passed before he looked up, enough time for a subjective eternity with the latest accelerators. That was impressive as hell, really. Little more than a decade ago, this sort of thing would have been impossible.

"The only reason that I'm not calling this a total mission scrub is due to those satellites very clearly not being military grade," he said calmly, eyes flicking to you. "And with respect, ma'am, you should've notified me the moment you found these."

Even though you hadn't been sure, he was still right. Given perceptual acceleration, even a few real-time minutes with the right data could be unimaginably important. "You have my apologies," you told him. You meant every word. "It was a late discovery, and we were distracted by what was the larger issue to us."

"Of course." His expression said everything his reply did not, a similar exasperation to the one you remembered from your security detail during your time as President. This you would remember. "I'll need time to properly simulate our own capabilities against these systems, and anything else we can think of that might be down there. Assuming all those checks pass?"

"Then I believe a planetside investigation would still be possible." It took an almost physical act of will to pull those words from the officer. "It could be worth a great deal, in fact. To see how the Shiplords actually observe developing species."

"How long?" Jane asked. Iris winked at you across the table.

"Done." She smiled impishly. She blinked deliberately, and more data flowed into the image before you all. "It'll be riskier due to the number of sensor clusters, but we can reprogram the Masques to work as active camouflage instead of disguises. They were designed to bypass Shiplord milspec. These aren't."

"There's still higher risk." Mary leaned forward, drawing her fingers in an opening motion to expand a section of the data. "And if we get caught, getting uncaught will be a lot harder. And that doesn't even touch on the possible problems of influencing the native civilisation."

"We've got our own civilisation to consider, Miss D'reve," Jane said, very quietly. Five years ago, maybe even less, that statement would have prompted a fiery reply from your closest friend. She barely noticed it today.

"We do, yes. But that's no reason to ignore the one down there. If we influence their culture in any meaningful way, and Shiplord surveillance is tight enough, it could get noticed." You felt a surge of warmth as she readjusted the framing of her concern to cover the current issue. "We can't risk that."

"In the end, it's my call," you said, catching Jane before she could reply. "I understand the possible risks and rewards. But if it's the opinion of local analysis that a trip is possible," Iris nodded very slightly. "Then I think we should…"

[][World] "continue as planned. The variables have changed, but our mission hasn't. We need to know what's down there."
[][World] "modify our mission profile. I want to…"
-[][World] "understand more about how the Shiplords are observing this developing civilisation."
-[][World] "make absolutely certain that we don't leave any tracks. Find us a place to land far where there's a burn scar but no local civilisation."
[][World] "try to find a way to visit one of these scars at the Enclave. It's built over one, maybe that would be enough?"
[][World] Write-in?

"Then we need to look at your ground team." Jane said calmly, a sweep of her hands bring up the familiar profiles. "We'll want to be prepared for any changes before we enter orbit."

You nodded gratefully. "Agreed. And thank you, Commander."

Please pick one of the following team loadouts. I'm trying to make this a bit simpler than last time, by pre-organising setups and then giving you the opportunity to make your own. Details on your ground team members is here. This vote will not affect the one about Mary's presence on the ground team for this mission.

[][Team] Quiet Insight (Elil, Iris, Kalilah) - This team focuses on maintaining a minimal profile for detection with the highest possible processing power.
[][Team] Heartcircle (Mir, Lea, Vega, Elil, Kalilah) - This team focuses on the unified ability of your Heartcircle, providing a combination of awesome versatility and combat power.
[][Team] Peace in Harmony - (Mir, Vega, Kalilah) - According to the Shiplords, a great war ended here. This team focuses above all on conceptual inspection of how that came to pass.
[][Team] Write in? Any team must include Kalilah and can contain no more than five members.

 

[Snowfire]

Project Insight had done its best, but against a foe as swift as a War Fleet, there was only so much that Phoebe and her fellows could do. Especially when their arrival at Sol meant only that, arrival. For days now, their flickering presences had danced across the breadth of the star system, building a picture of humanity's defences as they prepared to breach them. When their assault finally came, it did so without warning.

You came awake in rush, your implants ripping you brutally from sleep to full awareness in a howl of alert signals. The fleet network was alive with them, tactical data pouring in from the Orrery array as the full strength of a War Fleet descended upon your home. Fire was already being exchanged between the stations of Fortress Command and those flickering presences, and the data that you hoped would pave a path to victory was pouring in.

You swung out of bed and triggered the activation command on your suit, letting it flow up to cover you from where you'd left it on standby. You'd always prefer a shower to get clean, but that was a luxury you couldn't afford right now. You stepped away from the bed, past the low table where you and Alexander had pored over the latest intelligence reports last night, littered with empty mugs. It had been your Flag Captain's turn for the third watch, and part of you was glad. You knew and trusted your own experience against the Shiplords, but Captain Nuada had the unique advantage of his Focus to aid him in a reactive defence like this one.

Aegis Focused were rare, and you knew you'd cheated a little when you'd chosen Alex for your staff. But you were the Minister of War, and you'd needed someone with his skills. Looking at the visual display your suit projected onto your retinas as it fully sealed, you felt no regrets. You'd never dispute the tactical genius of the younger man, but you could also see the nigh supernatural grace of Focus-driven orders flowing out to shape the fleets of humanity into a shield to hold against the storm.

The door hissed open, and you ducked through it, barely registering the presence of the marines bracketing it. Salute idents flared on your HUD as you turned, mirroring a response into your recognition signal, but all of your focus was fixed on your tactical display. Local defence fleets were shifting in response to the War Fleet assault, beginning the process of cycling their outer layer of craft behind ones with fresher shields. It wasn't perfect, but until the Orrery could lock, it was the best you could do.

It was not, unfortunately, entirely successful. Damage warnings flared aboard those ships slow or unlucky enough to be caught in War Fleet fire just a little too long, and you forced yourself not to wince.

At least their weapon's output is in line with Phoebe's predictions, Lina, you told yourself. It would be much worse right now if we'd used Regular Fleet levels as a baseline. This was good, really. Yet as the casualty figures started to trickle in, you couldn't convince yourself. There wasn't anything else you could have done, not with the type of battle you'd known you were going to have to fight here, and it meant nothing at all.

Yet those losses didn't consume you, nor drive you like a lash. They focused you, sharpened the edge of humanity, the blade that you both wielded and were. The subjective eternity of five more steps later, you were on the bridge.

"Do we have full deployment yet?" You asked, deliberately verbal as the salute ident exchange finished. This battle wouldn't stay there long, but it was good to talk while you could.

"Negative, Minister." Alex responded. He still had his suit helmet configured to transparency, and you saw his eyes darting across the shared tactical model as he turned to face you. There wasn't a trace of tiredness on his face, and you had to wonder how much of that was his Focus. You hoped it would last. One of the downsides of a Potential who wasn't a Unisonbound: they couldn't use stims.

"They're running probing attacks on the system shell," he continued. "Checking if their scans missed anything. Only minor damage so far, and it's giving us more data to analyse before a full engagement."

"How long until they're done?" You asked, stepping into your shielded command frame to let it enfold you in layers of protective nanotech. Your already-accelerated perceptions sharpened as the dedicated support systems of the interface synchronised with your suit.

"A minute at most." The answer flared to life on your expanding HUD, highlighted by Alex.

You nodded, phantom electricity dancing down your spine as you prepared yourself for what was to come. "And the Orrery?"

"Still processing," your chief of staff replied. Nick's helmet was fully sealed, but you heard the faint waver of concern behind that admission. "Vision's reporting that we should have our first results within the next thirty minutes."

The Orrery had to work; it was the only chance humanity had in the long run. But until it did, there was no way to be certain that it would. Thirty minutes, you thought. You could work with that.

"Pull the sentry fleets back," you ordered. "All engagement groups are to come to full combat readiness and stand by for immediate deployment. Unisonbound are to deploy in accordance with tactical protocol Sierra-Five." You rapped out the commands with a metronome's precision, watching the tactical display shift in response.

"Seal helms on the flag bridge." Alex's face vanished behind a growing layer of Sixth Secret nanotech, and you blew out an invisible sigh. You were never going to get used to this feeling. "Activate simulation environment."

The world around you flickered in place, then fell away in its entirety. You needed a mental space to coordinate and take full advantage of what humanity's latest stacks could do in the battle ahead. And the only way to do that properly was to bid the realms of physicality behind, if only for a time.

A command space took form around you, and a moment later you found yourself staring out past the shifting shoals of sleek craft that made up the FSN's First Fleet. First Fleet had been made up into a command of entirely FTL capable craft, with no auxiliaries beyond the fighter squadrons that you already knew would have little use in the engagement ahead. War Fleets didn't use drone swarms.

Above you, the Olympic shifted subtly in place, and nearly four kilometres of space warped as your flagship's elder sister brought her shields to full power. The Calypso had changed a great deal since the Second Battle of Sol, yet if ships could be said to have souls, hers was still the same.

Your feet rested on an invisible floor, providing your entire staff with an unrestricted view of the battlefield. Designations overlayed the images of the ships around you, and reaching forward you could touch the flickering icons of the sentry fleets as they retreated behind Fortress Command's prodigious shielding. Those fleets had been a necessity with the system shell incomplete. Two weeks more and things would have been different, but there was no use crying over spilt milk.

You sketched a path in the false air, and vectors poured into existence reaching out towards the edge of Sol's Stellar Exclusion Zone. Another motion flung them outward to the ships of First Fleet. And a moment later, their colours shifted to the steady emerald of confirmed receipts.

"Captain Nuada." You said, and were shocked to find your voice smooth and untouched by fear.

"Yes ma'am?" Here in this space, there was no need for combat suits. You wore day uniforms, and your staff had taken their cues from you. His eyes glinted with a steady light, and you felt the same certainty of purpose that had gripped you in your last battles against the Shiplords begin to take hold.

"Let's not be too obvious about how much we really know." Perhaps it was a futile effort, but your own analysts and those from the Ministry of Security agreed that it was worth trying. "The Fleet shall advance."

"Yes ma'am."

---

As the largest single concentration of human military power sprang toward the edge of the Stellar Exclusion Zone, another battle raged deep within the star system. Not the battle to protect humanity's data vaults; that was well in hand. Lagless computing technology in combination with Vision, Marcus, and the Ministry of Security's other cybersecurity teams held their virtual spaces with aplomb. No, this battle was far more important, yet nigh-impossible to truly understand as it was one of pure data.

Humanity's Orrery was a marvel of predictive computing, in part based off of fragmentary designs that were all Project Insight had been able to find on the matter. And yet, as Lina knew, it was still untested. That reason alone was the reason that humanity's rebellion had not lit a half-dozen more fires already, though that had also been at humanity's request. If the Orrery failed, then any attempt at rebellion by the Group of Six would be futile. They had to know.

Deep within seething layers of lagless circuitry, supported by prodigious banks of heat-exchangers and other cooling systems, the answer was starting to take shape. Data poured into the Orrery's systems through every scope in the star system, compiling the movements of every War Fleet craft within the heliosphere. Just separating those ships from each other was an immense task, but it was one that the Orrery had been designed to do. Indeed, it was a required function. If it couldn't tell who was who, it would never be able to track their movements properly, let alone predict them.

Flickering sensor images resolved into unique hull profiles. Movement lists for each identified ship in the War Fleet began to compile. And the predictive systems of the Orrery, as close to the long-ago purged subroutines that had allowed Vision to act as the Elder Firsts' Project Insight, roused to life.

At the very heart of it all, the cyberspace presence of the first new life humanity had created after the Sorrows nestled. Vision had never truly identified as human, but the AI cared for the species deeply. She didn't see this as an emotional commitment, however. Perhaps given time, but there was none of that to spare.

Before her, the first flickers of prediction traced themselves across the tactical display. They were small things, tiny fragments of possibility, and only a handful of them were right. But it was a start. And humanity had started with less before.

All that was left was to succeed.

 

[Snowfire]

Personal Log, Mary D'reve, August 29th​, 2130

Visiting another planet has been a dream of mine since I was a child. And I don't mean going back to Mars, like I did, or visiting the other worlds of the solar system, which humanity has. I mean planets in other systems, far away from the light of Sol. I know that our mission doesn't have time to indulge childish dreams, and I hope that Mandy wasn't trying to find a way to do so yesterday.

I know that she's right about my expertise; I'm the only true specialist in the science behind Practice on this mission. But am I really going to find anything immediately actionable down there? I can't answer that, but I can't avoid the question. Despite all my work, what others often call brilliance, I'm still just a scientist. I don't have the ingrained training that Mandy or any of the Unisonbound do, and I can't think faster than them like Iris can.

I'm dressing this up, aren't I.

I'll be a liability down there. I'm slower, comparatively inexperienced, incapable of reaching orbit on my own, I could go on. A single mistake could doom not just this mission but my entire species. And yet I still can't restrain my excitement. I could barely sleep last night, and I've felt like I could walk on air all morning. Without my grav belt. I've been trying to distract myself with equipment checks, but none of it works.

And everything was ready last night, anyway.

You blinked as words you hadn't typed flowed across the text log, then raised your eyes towards the ceiling. You took a steadying breath, and-

"Right here, mom," Iris' voice cut through whatever question or condemnation you'd been about to speak, transforming them into a shocked exclamation.

"Iris!" Your pronunciation was significantly higher up the vocal scale than normal – how had she gotten in here? For her part, your daughter looked anything but shamefaced, but her smile lacked the tilt of her more mischievous grin. This smile was... You looked closer, examining. Hmm. Her avatar had a fully reactive synthetic musculature, and though you knew she could manually control it, she rarely did.

There was something at the corners of her smile, a flickering motion that kept trying to drag it down into something else. You looked up, and her eyes flicked away from your gaze. You knew this expression. You'd worn it three months ago, not accounting the week, when Iris and Mandy had left for the Third Battle of Sol.

"Come sit with me?" You didn't ask what was wrong, you didn't need to. Iris sagged in place, then did as you'd asked.

"That obvious?" She asked, wringing her hands as she set herself down next to you. Your quarters weren't anything extravagant, but they were large enough to have a small social area, and you'd worked hard to make it cosy. You shook your head.

"Only to me," you told her, resting a stilling hand atop her own. "And maybe Mandy. But that would be parental privilege."

She blushed, but the rosiness of her cheeks didn't drive her worries away. How on earth had Amanda managed this with you? You shook yourself mentally. Introspect later, act now.

"You're worried about me." You were quite sure that just saying that was some sort of violation of psychological strategies, but you didn't care. Iris slumped back into the soft pillows of your sofa, her expression strained, tugging on your hand as she went.

"I suppose it is obvious," you agreed, flicking away the log panel you'd had up and shuffling closer. "And I don't think either of us needs to say why."

"No." Her voice was low enough that your enhanced hearing had difficulty catching it. "And I'm worried about both of you, mom. It's just," she broke off, lips twisting into a painful frown.

"I'm just a touch less resilient, aren't I." You kept your voice as level as you could, but somehow a touch of humour slipped through. Iris' hand tightened on yours, and her eyes – blue with golden pupils this time, were hot with tears as she viciously shook her head.

"It's not just that," she snapped, and words spilled forth in a sudden flood. "It's about what you might find down there. What we found on the Zlathbu homeworld changed mom, and it's still changing me. You're still safe from it, and I know that's a silly thing to say when I think about the Sorrows but I just can't get away from the thought of what you might find and how it might change you too. And I don't want that. They don't deserve to make us into something like them."

"No," you agreed. You didn't need to ask who they were. "They don't. But Iris." You caught her chin with your other hand, the motion well-remembered even after the years of her living away. "For everything I said in my log, and please do try to stop snooping on those, dear, you know that I might end up needed down there. We need to understand how this war ended, beyond the obvious. Tahkel told us that the Shiplords don't talk to the Uninvolved, but this was older than their memories. We need to know what's changed, and what happened here that was enough to make them act at all."

"That's not..." Iris started to say. You shook your head.

"It's not more important than our family, no. But do you know how we stop it from being that?" You asked. It was her turn to shake her head, and you smiled a sad, old smile. "We choose otherwise."

She stared at you for a long moment, golden pupils flickering, disbelief etched on every line of her face. But she was your daughter, and Mandy's, and that meant she understood what you meant. Even if she didn't know it yet.

"You'll get there, love," you told her, pulling her abruptly limp form into a hug. You wiped her eyes as you drew back, then reached out towards the table next to you. Your fingers twisted inwards and the equipment on the table, all the gear you'd prepared, rose into the air. Then you made a fist, and each piece flung itself across the space between you to attach to pre-programmed hold points.

"Would you like to walk me to the shuttle?" You asked. Her hold tightened, fingers pressing almost painfully through the layers of nanotech masquerading as casual wear. Another answer without words, one you knew as well. "Alright. If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

Gently, you extricated yourself from her hold, then lent forward to place a kiss on her forehead. "I'll be back soon. Promise."

A thought activated your flight systems, lifting you up over the cosy mess of cushions around the table towards the entrance to your quarters. You twisted in the air, looking back at your daughter as the door flickered open behind you to see her frown starting to fade. She'd get there, you told yourself. Maybe even sooner than you thought. For a moment, you considered calling back, offering again, but that would be too early.

You floated out into the hallway, catching yourself short of the far bulkhead, and touched back down onto the deck. You might feel like walking on air, but there was a time and a place. And that would be once you were safely back aboard the Adamant. It took little time to pass through the ship to her small hanger bay, where Amanda and the rest of the ground team were waiting for you. Jane was there, too, her mouth set in a thin line. She still wasn't completely happy about your going down.

"Are you ready, Mary?" Mandy asked, turning away from Mir with a smile that reached all the way to her eyes. Vega lounged by entrance to the shuttle, leaning casually on empty air with an understated elegance that was utterly unfair no matter it being the result of her Focus. All of their Aegises were fully extended, and light absent of any shade flickered between Kalilah's fingers as you nodded.

"As I'll ever be," you said, a quick glance showing that you were quite alone beyond those present at the shuttle. "Everything set on this end?"

You caught a movement from Jane, and in that moment almost found yourself asking the same question you'd been writing about. Was it really so wise for you to come? But you stopped yourself, closed your eyes, and took a breath. By the time you'd let it back out, Jane appeared to have never moved.

"Pre-flight's all green." Vega said, righting herself. She looked over at Mandy. "Sooner we're gone, the sooner this is done." There wasn't anything cruel in her words; you knew Vega liked you. This was just Vega as the Proven Miracle, the inviolate core that hid beneath an unmeant appearance of idle fancy.

"And the sooner we should have some idea of what actually happened here," Mir added, his expression serene. You nodded in silent agreement.

"Then let's go." Vega ducked into the shuttle, followed by Mir and Kalilah, leaving you with the two commanders of the mission.

"You sure you have everything there?" Mandy asked, looking you up and down and taking in the hardpoint-latched systems. You'd deploy your Masque once aboard.

"Quite sure," you replied, "and I'm not going to change my mind."

Her eyes brightened above her steady smile. "Had to ask. Jane?"

"Commodore Hawk?" The FSN officer's reply was stiffer than normal, but only that. Her disagreement couldn't be truly severe, then. That was something, at least.

"The Adamant is yours. We'll be back as soon as we can."

"Yes ma'am." Amanda winced, then gestured for you to follow.

The shuttle was as you'd remembered it, simple, but not uncomfortable, and fully capable of far more than just planetary descent. The five of you fit easily into its forward spaces, though you'd made sure to request a large selection of observational gear to be packed into its cargo spaces. You took the time to ensure that all of the equipment was properly secured before moving forward to the cockpit. You didn't expect to be much help there, but you could link into the sensor array.

Every pair of eyes could help given the watchful gaze of all those suborbital survey probes. Getting down without them noticing you was going to be a challenge even with Vega aboard, and part of you wished that Amanda hadn't chosen to leave Elil behind. An Insight Focused would have closed the circuit for the shuttle's stealth systems, but he'd been left aboard the Adamant to ensure the larger vessel's secrecy from the Shiplord science vessel and its venerable escort.

:Comms check.: Amanda's voice sounded in your head, translated from text and identifier into something recognisable as her by your stack. A mental command brought the implant to full readiness, synchronising with the craft's system and signalling an affirmative to the rest of the crew. The shuttle lifted and oriented towards the world below, the sightless eyes of its sensors opening wide. You saw the shape of the Adamant behind you for a moment, the sloping angles of its hull so strange compared to the utilitarian angles of the newer Solar Navy designs. But it was only a moment, before you crossed the edge of the mix of Practice and more understandable science that rendered the ship invisible to all eyes. Then yours turned to the world before you.

Breaching the Snare: 3
Ways of Peace: 75

The descent wasn't a smooth one, and here the decision to leave Elil aboard the Adamant came back to haunt you. Against most detection systems, a Harmonial would have been enough to smooth away any indications of descent, but the Trailblazer systems had never been designed to handle a massed microsatellite network. It was Mir that saved you from its gaze, his Focus passed through the medium of a Word providing the right path down through the atmosphere. Mir's Focus was founded in the man's desire to create or preserve peace. In that moment, as your shuttle veered towards detection by seemingly endless orbital eyes, it provided.

The world that welcomed you, once your stealth systems had adjusted to the atmosphere, was so very different from Earth or Mars. And yet, some similarities remained, as if by cosmic chance. The most common colour wasn't green, the ecosystem had evolved in different directions in its quest to synthesize energy. Many shapes were, however, quite familiar. And why wouldn't they be? The most efficient shapes for absorbing sunlight would be the same here as on Earth. The Adamant had begun the process of cataloguing the ecosystem, and you continued the process through the endless minutes of your descent.

Plants of all types grew in abundance, their roots reaching deep in the soil. Some were similar to Earth plants, though you saw nothing equivalent to a tree. Some were akin to spiderwebs, and would have been torn apart by a breeze, had a breeze ever made it through the cocoon of symbiotic fungal vegetation.

It was too much data to even begin to analyse, but that wasn't why you were doing it. That would come later. Your work only stopped when the presence of life ended at the border of the city-scar, this one chosen deliberately to maintain maximum separation from any of the quasi-sapient species that you believed would one day call the world home. It was hoped that their absence would keep any watching satellites far away.

Vega dropped the shuttle into the shadow of an ancient building, moving you carefully into the structure, and you shivered as your sensor feed took in the spaces that revealed.

:What is it, Mary?: Amanda asked, feeling the motion through your link. You flicked several data points along it. Enough to prove the point.

:These cities were meant to have been homes, Mandy. The cradle of a civilisation older than humanity,: you sent, pulling up more images as Vega brought the shuttle into land. :And yet there's nothing to identify who or what they were. Did they walk on two feet, or four, or something entirely different?:

:Whatever was done here, it was thorough.: Vega agreed, her mental voice far more subdued than usual. :Left nothing of theirs behind except the buildings. Not even on the inside.:

:Exactly,: you sent, any excitement from your approach fading quickly under the weight of this bare sarcophagus of a city. :Do you think it's safe out there?:

:I think so.: Amanda's voice came steady in your mind. :And if it isn't, well, we won't stay out there any longer than we have to. But we need to go out if we're to have any idea of what happened here.:

:Any good idea,: Kalilah corrected, in a tone of chipped ice. :If it comes to it, we'll make do with whatever the three of you can find in here.: You felt a surge of warmth for the older woman as she stated that.

:Of course.: Amanda replied, but it was just a little too quick to be disarming. She sighed in your head, lifting herself out of the copilot's chair as the shuttle's personnel ramp lowered and extended. :Sorry. You're right, Kalilah, Mary. This place doesn't feel right. Like a scar on the surface of the world.:

:Then let's get this done,: Mir suggested, a tense energy pouring off of him as his own Aegis- and Masque-coated body moved swiftly back through the small craft's exit. :There's nothing out there right now; we can be gone before the engines get cold.:

They wouldn't regardless, of course, but you knew he hadn't meant it literally. It was a strange feeling, really. The stacks allowed some level of emotional component to be transferred, but it had to be done deliberately. Talking to Unisonbound over link provided a depth of connection that went entirely beyond that. They didn't signal their feelings; they were them.

You came to your feet as well, flicking the various instruments subsumed into your Masque online. The shuttlecraft had excellent sensors, but it had been designed as a covert infiltration craft, not a survey vessel. You needed your own scanners to make up the differences. You turned as the ramp crunched down into what you imagined had been the alien's concrete analogue.

"Alright." Amanda said, speaking deliberately. "Mary, Kalilah, you stay aboard. Kalilah, you come get us Mary tells you that something's gone wrong. This shouldn't take long." Then she stepped down the ramp, reaching out her hands to the two Potentials next to her. Mir took her right hand, Vega her left. What they walked down into was difficult to describe.

It was a room, of course. If the Hjivin had been human-sized, it could have been a comfortable looking lounge, or something similar. The walls were scorched into a black-streaked grey, the same as the floor and the ceiling above the shuttle.

"Mary, are you ready?" Kalilah asked from beside you, one hand of her tightly regimented Masque flexing around the spot on her built where you knew her weapon lived.

"Yes," you nodded quickly. "All of my sensors are online, and I've pointed the entire shuttle array at their location. If anything happens here, we'll see it." The last word terminated halfway as Amanda, Mir and Vega stepped down onto the floor of the room, and one of the sensors you'd brought along with you suddenly flared with readings. It had been designed to track the presence of energies like Practice, and something was reacting.

"Mary?" Kalilah snapped, concern drawing your name tight against her lips. You didn't waste time with verbal motions.

:I'm detecting an energy spike,: your broadcast across the local link. Another sensor, this one a finely tuned but more general scanner for local soulspace flared with its own response signal. :Growing steadily, but nothing that they should be able to detect from orbit. These places seem to act like enormous jammers to anyone outside.:

:Praise be to small mercies,: Mir added to that ruefully. :Vega, do you feel that?:

:I do.: The Harmonial's voice was muffled, an odd sound to anyone who didn't know her. You did, but you had to question how she'd reached halfway to a Trance already. This was almost a new record, and you didn't like that. :It's like,: you felt the image of a single shaking head, :it's like there's a warning here. In this place, all around us.:

:Maybe you should leave it alone, then?: Kalilah asked, but you without any real effort. Some things weren't worth fighting, and all you'd detected so far was internal readings. None of them should pierce the city-scar.

:And let this entire trip be for nothing?: Vega asked, and you felt the image of a headshake again. :We can't waste this. Not unless we absolutely have to.:

:I agree,: Amanda's voice was still steady, undisturbed by the presence of a Trance. :If whoever did this left a warning, it behoves us to see what it was.: The tone of her voice shifted, and you watched energy flood into her soul, concentrating in the physical space of her lungs. They filled, focused, the energy inside of them crystallising into something that was almost solid.

Vega and Mir matched the display with smooth professionalism, and when they Spoke, it was as one.

Let. Us. Know.

The pattern of energy around the three Unisonbound froze into immobility, its edges sharpening into jagged shapes, terrifying angles of lethal power. And for a long moment, you were faced again with the awful question that haunted you on late nights. What would happen on the day a Potential overestimated their ability to understand something bigger than themself?

Uninvolved Motivations: 100 + 64 = 164. Critical Success.

The patterns around the three smoothed, and then power flooded into their bodies, enough to make your sensors let out a warbling cry of objection. Not enough to breach the scar, you thought, but that wasn't a certainty anymore. Digging into it further, however, was interrupted by Kalilah. The woman pulled you back from the ramp's edge with the ease of a mother cat lifting a kitten as energy pulsed out again. And below you, Amanda, Mir and Vega snapped to ramrod straight and inhumanely still.

Their mouths opened, vocal chords twitching, yet no sound emerged. No more energy surged forth, but their bodies pulsed with a presence that was not greater, but coming from so many levels deeper than anything you'd observed before. Their nanoshells writhed beneath that flow of power, and you saw the shining not-matter of a Unisonbound Aegis glare through them. Yet still they didn't move. You tried to take a step forward, but Kalilah's arm stopped you.

"You're not going down there," she said. There was no malice to the words, but her lips were set in a firm line that you knew well enough from Amanda's descriptions. She wasn't going to budge. "Their Unisons are unresponsive too."

"What about in your link?" You asked, carefully withdrawing the threads of inquiry that you'd been about to launch from your stack. But there'd been something about those readings that you recognised. Kalilah shook her head.

"They're there, but if I reach out whatever's around them might affect me too," she told you. "And Amanda ordered me to keep you safe, Miss D'reve."

"We can't just sit here," you began to protest, only for Kalilah to turn back to you far, far more swiftly than you could track.

"We can and we will," Kalilah ground out, her voice utterly flat. "They went looking; now we have to trust that they'll come back from whatever they found. If they haven't moved in five minutes, then you can send down a drone. Until then-" A gasp cut through the air, and Vega staggered, dropping to her knees amid the far-too-sterile remains. Her Aegis made short work of any debris, and you stared at the readings in front of you in shock.

Tendrils of blinding light arced off of Mir's form, cutting into the blackened walls close to him as if they were paper. Composites that had lasted more than millions years melted and flowed under those thin whips of energy. He kept his feet, but it was a close-run thing, and your attention didn't remain long as more warnings flared across your analysis panels.

"This looks like a Unisonbound rejection," you whispered. Then, louder. "Kalilah, this looks like-"

"I heard you," she replied. Synchronising with a Unison Platform was a complex process, and one that required a great deal of the biological half of the input. You'd never experienced a true failure at the synchronisation point, but it had come close a few times. Kalilah had almost suffered one of these, and only Amanda's intervention then had been able to stop her from wiping out the entire facility. But if Mandy suffered a rejection, or something like one, you'd have no idea what it might do.

Except…it wasn't just a Unisonbound connection that had looked like this. There'd been something else, during Second Contact. When Amanda had found her way into the Reverie of the Marionette diplomat, a memory from millennia ago passed down through the souls of that people. You'd never believed that the Shiplords, or anyone who might have worked with them, were mindlessly stupid. An intelligent race had to have reasons for what they did, and that had to apply equally to whatever Uninvolved had done this to these planets.

In the late 20th​ and early 21st​ century, there'd been a great deal of dispute over how to properly identify sites where nuclear material was housed. Some sort of warning would be needed to protect those who might not understand the danger. Vega had even said that it felt like a warning. But what sort of warning would do this?

---

Your name. What had it been?

Looking out across an endless abyss of glittering light cast by the seemingly eternal stars, it was hard to care enough to remember. But some things stuck with you, even here. You'd been one of the very first to leave your bodies of flesh and blood behind, reaching beyond the material to something more. Something that had always been there, hidden in your |||||||||||||.

You'd watched for millennia as the galaxy grew and changed around you, until the myriad races that had followed your own had shaped it into something nigh unrecognisable. This wasn't a complaint; you could look out and see so much to admire in those ambitious youths. The desire to make something more of the galaxy, to create something better for those that came next, that was to be treasured. That had been the first lesson your race had ever been taught by another.

Not all was as it had been, however. You could feel it in the world around you, in the tenseness of your fellows as they had come together here, fear and more guiding them to this place, created as one where all your kind could speak. For tens of cycles, eyeblinks by your own measure, the path of the galaxy had found itself shifted. War had come to it, between your old mentors and another race. A war that had shattered systems and torn down entire civilisations, yet despite that still only a war.

That had been the consensus of your kind. You would watch, of course, and be prepared to protect reality from any action like that of the |||||||. But the race facing your past teachers had none of the mastery required, and that had been enough to calm many voices that might otherwise have sought to act.

Now the manifold voices of ancient races, and younger ones, rang across the space. Each to a side, each to a purpose, all seeking that ever-distant point of consensus. And yet, you could not help but be concerned. How long had it been, since this began? A glance revealed the galaxy shifted, more stars blazing out their last breaths as the lines of battle shifted. How long had it been since that had happened?

If the place could have been called a place of meeting, you would have stood, and silence followed that in eyeblink instants. Another system flared, and again you felt it at the edge of your perceptions. You had watched the creation of a sibling once, those who had stood with you in the beginning, who had learnt from the same masters though followed you only many cycles later. This felt like that, but there was a strangeness to it. No, you corrected, looking deeper. A wrongness. The horrors of this war were not your concern; that had been the point of leaving it all behind.

But now you felt something else, unlike anything you'd seen in all the vastness of your years. You called out to your fellows to follow, and dived from the place to follow the thread across the galaxy. Another sun died as your form passed it, and you ducked between the rippling waves of its death cry with the deftness of ancient experience. Closer, you told yourselves. You had to get closer, to find the source of this, to understand it. The feeling of unease grew stronger as you trailed on, others of your kind descending in your wake, clearing the way and finding new ones for the rest, the host too great to come all at once.

There.

You recognised the system, despite the haze around it: a home star, the one from which this war had been launched. The sun pulsed at the centre of a converter, pouring out matter to serve the will of its masters, yet your attention was drawn to its worlds. Only two lived, yet you could feel almost nothing from them. How could that be? There were billions down there, tens of billions, yet so many of them were muted and dull. This hadn't been that sort of species, had it?

A younger one answered you that it had not, but your gaze was already diving deeper, cutting through the haze towards the living worlds. If you could truly call them that. Brighter sparks burned aboard ships all across the system, but the greatest concentrations on the planets were in the bare tens of thousands, and none of them felt right either. Their essence was changing, fading, becoming one. Why did that fill you with fear for the first time in a quarter million cycles? You had seen this before!

The answer came from the worlds below, a shivering cry through the spaces that your kind inhabited, rising in volume as you approached the oldest of the two worlds. You knew what you should find there now, you could see what was happening – this race was becoming one of you. But then why-

Hungry.

The worlds cried out together, keening the word with an almost sexual passion. And as you came to a halt above their homeworld, a gorge you thought long lost with your physical forms threatened to rise past the point of control. Your kind were meant to be creations of an entire race, a choice to leave the world behind, to become something of another type. It was no end to the journey of life, but it was a vast step, and one that no race should take except together.

Feed.

This time the word was a hiss, a yearning so great that it made you recoil. This wasn't how your kind was meant to exist. And yet there it was, in the space before you, wrapped around the planet like some feasting tumour. It reached down from your space to the one beyond, the one you had never touched, and lives withered away around the brightest sparks of this race. The only ones who you could recognise as having souls, instead of possessing them.

Around you, the younger and those of the middle scattered away, and you were the only one of the eldest to have reached this place yet. A glance turned back to the war beyond, the shattering suns and burning systems, yet all too far away. And this process, this thing, was growing too rapidly for those of that world to stop it. And when it reached the point of criticality, what would emerge? Nothing good, you could see that.

Hunger.

The cry echoed again, and you saw without seeing endless lines of life pouring into chambers at the heart of the terror's presence in the world beyond your own. You were meant to be better than this. To reach here, you were meant to find unity, not impose it. To do anything less would not be beauty, and this was far worse than mere ugliness. But you had also, all of you, agreed in the beginning. Acts upon the world beyond would not be taken without consensus. Yet there was no time for that now, as more souls streamed out of the husks that carried them.

This race was becoming Uninvolved, but they would make a mockery of that word. It burned at you, the promise you'd made, and yet this was worse than breaking that promise. To let such a thing be born would be to betray that oldest teaching, an older promise. Agreement pulsed within you, from the endless caverns of your merged souls, and you took one more glance across the world outside your own. Still not close enough, and they wouldn't reach here in time.

FEED!

It was louder now, and you sensed sluggish awareness in it, searching the space around it for more. And it wouldn't stop there. You weren't sure if it even could.

In your youth, you had played with the possibilities of your power, experimented far beyond the eyes of any with what a being of pure soul could do to the world of matter if it truly wished to. In the ancient myths of your people, gods had wielded fire and thunder. You knew how to do far worse, and now you drew upon those old lessons. This would have to be quick, and utterly ruthless. The younger ones might not understand, and could attempt to stop you, and that could not be risked.

HUNG-

It never finished. Light and fire tore reality at your fingertips. You felt the shock from those behind you, the terror that one of their eldest might have betrayed them, but you ignored it. This must be done. The fullness of your race, a mountain forged of a million years and more, loomed above the birthing monster like an avalanche, and the weapon-vaults of your soul yawned open.

I am sorry.

You were never certain who that message had been for.

Light shattered the boundary between worlds, and the creature before you shrieked in agony as lambent fire lanced into its heart. This was the weapon that you'd feared the most, out of everything your younger, more warlike self had created. A weapon that struck not just at the soul, but at all souls similar to it. It was a weapon designed with only one purpose, for the extinction of a still extant species. You'd hated it, but had never quite been able to forget it. Now you were glad you hadn't.

The beast screamed again as the fire took root, reality shaking around it as you hurled waves of lesser weapons into its hide, littering it with cuts and craters that it was far too young to know how to defend from. And below, on this world and the one next to it, the fire of your creation poured down into the world, into the cities and all the life that this race had created. Ships burned like tiny stars in the void, and the shining lights of hunger within them and down below shrieked in agony. It was all they had left before being struck from existence.

The light spread out around you, and you caught it with hands that knew its deadly power better than anyone. The first thing that one did when creating a weapon was learn how to defend from it, after all. All the vast will of who and what you were pushed back at the fire, the full weight of your power exerted upon reality to end the conflagration before it could spread further. And as light filled your eyes, you remembered your name.

Not the name of the Uninvolved that had done this, but your own.

Your name was Amanda Hawk, and your head spun as you collapsed forward onto the hard ground, tears seeping between the shattered veil of your Masque. To either side, you saw Vega and Mir on the ground beside you, hunched over in matching expressions of revulsion and pure terror.

You'd seen horror in your life, but this was horror on many levels. The Hjivin, enveloping every star system they encountered, poised to devour every soul in the universe like a cloud of locusts. They'd reduced themselves from a thriving, sapient people to little more than the primal urge to consume and reproduce. Trillions of souls, twisted as they were, demolished without warning. A power that could annihilate a species in both body and soul, unleashed with ruthless necessity.

And it wasn't done by the command of the Shiplords.

The Uninvolved had stopped being that, just once. And this is what they'd done. You felt tears on your cheeks, seeping between your Masque, and hot bile in your throat. There was more of that below you, somehow. When had that happened?

:When we were in there.: Sidra, for the first time that you could remember, sounded shaken. :I think, at least. I wasn't here to watch properly.:

:I,: you tried, but nothing you could think of felt like it was enough. :I can't even begin.:

:I know.: Sidra said. :Mir and Vega, they're having similar conversations. And Kalilah is stopping Mary from coming down here.: That, at least, prompted a response.

"I'm ok." Your voice sounded hoarse, almost pained, and anything but ok. So you tried again. "I'm ok, really. But what we saw," you paused, looking from side to side. "You both saw too?"

Vega nodded, her usually bright eyes shadowed with horror, and Mir just stared back at you. You could feel the Peace Focused in there, but right now he didn't feel like talking. You honestly weren't sure how you still were.

"How bad?" Kalilah asked. The soldier's question, and you wished you had a better answer.

"Take the worst you can possibly imagine," you said.

"And then make it ten thousand times worse," Vega finished.

"You can come down," you added. "It's safe. But we shouldn't stay here. Analysing what we just saw is going to take everyone, and a trip to the inhabited world if I'm not mistaken."

"At least we'll be able to give a properly horrified reaction," Mir said, slowly pushing himself up from where he'd been on all fours. His Masque folded back into transparency, and you paled. The man's eyes were bloodshot, and he was deathly pale. "But let's get out of here, please."

The landing party will return immediately to the Adamant, and will do so safely. Pick a viewpoint to experience this event from:
[] Iris
[] Lea Halwood
[] Elil
[] Jane Cyneburg
[] Write-in?

 

[Snowfire]

The last time part of our family had gone away to do something dangerous, I'd been one of the ones putting myself in harm's way. At the Third Battle of Sol, and the last system we'd visited as part of this mission, I'd put myself in danger in the hopes of protecting the humanity I was part of. And I'd keep on doing that, even if what I sometimes had to do was horrific, until we were safe. I'd made up my mind about that the day I got to see the world through Auntie Vi's eyes. The gestalt from the simple replicant had lacked direct emotion, but it hadn't needed it to teach me what I'd been searching for.

I'd gotten used to that feeling of being in danger, of being someone that other people worried about, even as I worried for them. But I'd never once, in all the time I could remember, had to stay behind like this. I knew that I wouldn't be able to help, not really. For all that my soul is human, I was never set up in the same way as my parents, or any Potential. I'm an infomorph; I was born of data and that's a part of my nature that I'm never going to surrender. But as I stood there waiting, in Mary's quarters, all those reasons seemed hollow.

I wanted to be with my family as they went into danger. I wanted to be able to help Mandy protect Mary, who was always the less capable of us in situations of immediate danger. I wanted that more than anything I'd ever wanted in my life. And, I admit it, I wondered if I might be able to deceive the ship systems to let me get aboard their shuttle without them knowing.

I decided against it, but not because I couldn't do it, or that Mandy would have sensed me, even if Sidra hadn't. They needed me here, and I'd been part of the decision. For all that I desperately wished to be able to protect my family, this was bigger than us. As a President's daughter, I knew that feeling almost too well.

So I distracted myself with observing the planet we'd come to find. I played with the sensors of the Adamant, stretching their limits and trying to isolate specific nodes of the planet's surveillance network. The microsat net was impressive in its complexity, but nothing that we couldn't build ourselves. I wished I could see through it, but the presence of those Shiplord dreadnoughts was an icy weight at the edge of my awareness. The AI in the last system had been capable, but a deeper examination of its operational model had filed it firmly under civilian security.

If those dreadnoughts were awake, I'd end up fighting two military grade Shiplord AIs. I was confident that I could win that fight eventually, but not without alerts getting out, and the covert aspect of our mission was the most crucial. We had no idea how the Shiplords would react if they knew we'd found these places, let alone that we could enter them. Our intentions were good: we wanted to end this war without horrific bloodshed, if that was possible. But if the Shiplords found out what we were doing, even if they couldn't stop us, they'd heighten security. Probably to the point that the Masques wouldn't work, and that would leave us blind. Assuming, of course, that we'd survive being detected at all.

The Adamant was barely a frigate by the standards of interstellar combat, and even if a dreadnought couldn't penetrate the Inviolate Matter of our hull, they could probably catch us. Kalilah would be able to ensure that they'd never hold us for long, but our cover would be well and truly gone if we had to resort to those sorts of measures.

I shook my head, hoping the motion would be enough to force those dark thoughts away. They'd be back, I knew, but it would buy me at least a few hours. A subtle tweak to the strands of nanotech that were my hair returned them to the lightly tousled state they'd been in before. Staying here wasn't good for me, but as foolish as it might seem, I didn't want to make others worry more about me than I knew they already would be.

Do you know one of the greatest curses of being an infomorph? There is nothing so impossible for one as to be truly distracted. It should be simple to focus myself on one thing above all else - I can literally edit the priorities of my thought processes. And yet, no matter how hard I try to do so, my humanity seeps through. Aya taught me to treasure that, to embrace it as another side of my humanity. I wish I'd refused to listen.

So when an entrance tone sweeps the precise chaos of my mom's quarters, I answered without thinking, without checking who's on the other side. I know they're still gone right now.

"Yes?" I asked. I never noticed the tremble in my voice then, but the one come looking for me did. The door hummed, then hissed open, and I whirled in place. Lea stood there in the open portal that I'd never told to open. The shock must have shown on my face.

"You shouldn't be here alone." She told me, her pale eyes holding mine steadily as she stepped into the room.

"I'm not a child." I narrowed my eyes, feeling the tenseness there, almost a glare.

"No, you're not," Lea agreed, raising one hand, palm open. "But you're still hurting, Iris. I can't make that pain go away, but you shouldn't have to shoulder it by yourself."

I've read that someone my apparent age in the days before the Circles might have objected to that. A me of that time would probably have tried to reject the aid, to be their own person despite the pain. it was tempting, too, even now. The words to make it happen were right there on my tongue, the commands that would seal the room and keep everyone out until my parents returned beside them in the infospace.

And yet.

"No, I shouldn't." I slumped, the shock draining from my system as I remembered what that world before the Circles had done to itself. "Thank you, Lea." I waved her through the door, collapsing back into the soft sofa with a muffled thwump, and pulled one of the large cushions that I'd abandoned towards me.

I heard Lea cross the room, and felt the weight shift as she sank down onto the sofa next to me. Looking over the top of the pillow I'd grabbed, I imagine I looked very young. Lea shook her head, and her mouth twitched into an odd little smile.

"What is it?" I asked. Her smile broadened.

"Your parents raised you well," she said, a small laugh bubbling free as I stared at her. My brow furrowed as I tried to work out what she meant, but she took pity on my confusion before it could spread too far:

"If Amanda were sitting here, I'd have to batter a hole through the door, Iris," Lea explained. "She's an amazing person, but she created the Circles. She never grew up with them. She's still got bits and pieces of the world before the world before the Sorrows in her, and that can make her stubborn."

"Not sure that I'm any less," I pointed out, and Lea laughed again. It felt good, somehow.

"No," she agreed, shaking her head. "I guess not. But it's where you're stubborn that's the difference. You want to lock yourself away, but you won't do it."

"And sometimes they will." I nodded. "I get it."

"Then how can I help?" Lea asked, tugging gently on the pillow I'd grabbed. "I know I'm not exactly family, but we've known each other for a long time through Mandy's commitments to the Unisonbound. If not of your Circle, I can be beside it."

I considered those words, and the offer they held. They were almost ceremonial now, but no less heartfelt for that, and she was right. Out of everyone currently aboard the Adamant, Lea was the closest one to a friend I had. And the point of the Circles had been to give that safety to everyone. When put like that, there was no reason to be afraid.

I folded forward over the cushion, the motion a silent acceptance of Lea's offer as I dropped my head into her lap. One of her hands snaked around my waist to pull me closer, and I didn't resist, simply letting myself relax into the gentle hold. Lea wasn't either of my parents, she wasn't a friend like Aya or Mikki or Nei, but right now all I truly needed was someone close enough. She could give me that.

I know exactly how long I stayed there, carefully held and focused almost entirely on my immediate, physical reality. There's a power in the touch of another's hands, and this proved it again to me. I know that I cried, too. The pain of not knowing what will happen to those you care for is an awful thing, and I'd never felt it so keenly. But without Lea, without the Circles that let her do what she did, I couldn't have accepted it.

Still, I wasn't entirely inattentive to the world around me. As I said, I couldn't be. I saw the patterns of microsats twist and concentrate, shifting to cover where I knew the landing party had gone. The lack of active movement from the ships above soothed me, but it added a stress that I couldn't release. Not until the shuttle reappeared on the Adamant's scopes, moving smoothly in for docking. Two hours, I'd remember properly later. Right then, I just needed to make sure they were all ok.

Lea released me as soon as I started to move. A side benefit of being a Unisonbound, I suppose; they think almost as fast as me. And, of course, she'd be notified of their arrival by the person who lived within her platform. What struck me as odd then was how she was only a step behind me as I left Mary's room, keeping up with swift, precise steps. I should have seen something in that.

As it was, I was wholly unprepared for the sight that awaited me in the Adamant's hanger. I shouldn't have been, I had access to internal sensors and could connect to Sidra or Mary's stack. But despite my nature, time spent in physical reality has changed me. I was so wrapped up in that, and the associated desire to see with my own eyes, that I ignored the other means at my fingertips.

Consider that moment.

A child, for that I was and still am, rushing to greet their parents after their first time being truly separated from them. The existence of lagless had made it impossible for me to lose them back home, after all. And instead of smiles, forced or no, I found grim, pale faces waiting for me. Amanda was stumbling down the ramp as I entered, leaning heavily on Mary for support, and I'd never seen either of my moms so exhausted.

"What happened?" I asked, aghast, taking a step towards her. Her Aegis was flickering in and out of existence, barely holding together. With Lea there it stabilised, but only just. The exhaustion on my mother's face faded, replaced with a grim determination. She opened her mouth, and Lea slapped a hand across it.

"No," she said. Her voice was very calm, and entirely without give. "You are going to come to medical, and I am going to make sure that you didn't break anything before you start talking about what happened down there."

Mandy made a noise that sounded like a protest, and Lea jabbed a finger under her nose. "No," she repeated harshly. "You're barely holding your Aegis together with my help, Amanda. You. Medical. Now."

Reluctantly, Mandy nodded. Lea looked up the ramp at the other two barely functional Potentials.

"Them too, Kalilah," she said simply. "Iris, could you help Mary?"

"Of course." I answered automatically, stepping up to take the weight off my other mom. She smiled wanly at me.

"Thanks, love," she said. I nodded, attaching myself to her and helping her the rest of the way down into the hangar. I wanted to copy Kalilah and Lea, picking up my charge and flying them to medical, but Mary's exhaustion was a result of stress, not potential damage to her very soul. Even so, we got to medical very quickly. I was willing to stop short of flying Mary there, but only that.

By the time we got there Lea had Amanda, Mir and Vega all laid down on static scanner beds, while Kalilah watched from the sidelines. The older woman, my mother's old bodyguard, rubbed nervously at her fingers as Lea moved quickly between the three. Medical staff were in abundance, but they kept out of Lea's way as she checked readouts. I almost reached out to check them myself, but I was only a neophyte where it came to the soul. Looking would just make me more worried, or at least that's what I told myself.

One of Mary's hands brushed my cheek, breaking me from that consideration, and I looked over at my mom.

"They'll be ok," she said, still leaning heavily on me. Her eyes flickered open-shut. "They connected to something, a memory I think. I've had time to look back now, and it has some similarities to my experience. The Metaconcert event, I think you read about it?"

I nodded.

"The readings I took then and the ones I have from just now have a lot in common," she explained. "Metaconcert was just much less intense."

"You're sure they'll be fine?" I asked.

"As sure as I can be." Mary nodded, then pulled me over towards one of the free beds close by. I eyed her oddly.

"I'm not hurt, Iris," she said. "I'd just like to sit down for a little."

It was almost criminally easy to check that as I helped her down into a sitting position. My own internal sensors could do it, but I could also access the medbay scanners. Exactly how this was different to interfering with Lea' work, I could never later say, but it did confirm what mom told me. She was fine. Drained to the point of bordering on exhaustion, yes, but nothing a good night's rest couldn't fix.

Amanda, Mir and Vega, on the other hand, were a more problematic case. Lea laid it out for them that evening, with the rest of the command staff in attendance. Technically I was one of those.

"The core issue," Lea explained, "is that what happened down there put major strain on the energy channels through your souls. Nothing broke, but there's definite bruising there. Using Practice is still possible, but it makes you fragile. If any of you are put under major strain before this heals, it could break something, and I have no idea if I could fix that."

"How long for them to heal?" Jane got the question first, and Lea winced.

"This isn't something we have a lot of experience with, Jane." She shrugged helplessly. "Maybe a few days, maybe a week, I just can't say. Amanda's Focus will speed up her recovery, but I'm not comfortable trying to apply mine to either of the other two unless I have to."

"Which leaves us stuck here until it's safe for Vega to work with our stealth systems," Jane pointed out. "Still, that's better than losing access to them permanently."

"Indeed," Amanda agreed. There was colour back on your mother's cheeks now, and her voice was far steadier. Just hearing that helped you more than you could say. "For now, though, I think it would be wise to tell you what we found down there. If that would be acceptable for you, Lea?"

The Mender nodded reluctantly. "Yes. I'd rather like to know what did this to you, Mandy."

"Finding out the truth isn't always easy," Mandy replied. "But we now know for certain how and why the Hjivin were destroyed. It wasn't the Shiplords who did it, it was the Uninvolved, and they did it on their own. It began…"

I didn't sleep well that night. In fact, I ended up back on Mary's sofa before it was over, just to be closer to my family. I'd seen Potentials warp the world around them, but never anything close to what Amanda had described. Even at the height of the Third Battle of Sol she hadn't...well, I couldn't really be sure, could I?

Practice created me, it gave me a soul. That should have...implied something. But not even Kalilah had really considered the other side of that equation. If Practice could give a soul, why couldn't it take one away? Creation, after all, is always harder than destruction. To be presented with proof of that, particularly on such a massive scale, was more than just frightening.

Humanity had used Practice to fashion a new world, and all the tools to defend it. At the Second and Third Battles of Sol, we applied it directly to the world around us, in ways that could have shattered suns. And yet all of that was nothing compared to what Amanda and the others had witnessed: a weapon that had wiped a species from reality. Was this why the Shiplords had built weapons to fight the Uninvolved? We couldn't know for certain, but it was a reasonable guess.

Yet more confusing still was how the Uninvolved that had struck down the Hjivin had referred to the Shiplords. Not as masters of some cruel crusade on reality, but as teachers. Almost friends. A million years is a long time for a race to change, even with the benefits of biological immortality. But were we staring at what had begun that change? We had to know more, the entire command staff agreed on that. But how we did so, and where we chose to, was still under debate.

Where does the Adamant focus its attention next? You shall remain in your current orbit for 2d3+1 days while Amanda, Mir and Vega recover from their experience.
[] The Inhabited - The second planet, this one is home to a true Shiplord enclave. You've visited one safely thus far, why not another?
[] Regulars - Two Shiplord Regular craft, their profiles beyond ancient, orbit the life bearing worlds of this system. Why are they here? Approach the closer one, and attempt to discover the truth.
[] Move on, pick destination:
-[] to a red giant surrounded by a graveyard of shattered worlds.
-[] to a yellow sun, somehow twisted off its axis by some monumental stellar event. Three major planetary bodies remain.
[] Write-in?