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.
