Sunset: Then, Now, Tomorrow (Maintenance & Role-Play)

[Sunset]

Erika & Demi's House, Botany Bay, Chuh-Yu, Ares System...

"...I'm not going to second-guess an officer in the field;" Though she seemingly had little problem with watching over their shoulder. It was not thirty seconds after Fleet Admiral Vamvakis has given his permission - forced or not - for the i'Halalaentariel to proceed with their attack and already the widely-spread spheres of the Avatar's flotilla had nearly reached their projected position above the Circlet's primary and the mysterious complex floating on a sea of noble gases far below. Not a shot had been fired and for the moment she ignored whatever was about to happen in the projected battlescape to turn to Alex, who stood patiently behind the pair with her hands clasped behind her back.

Almost as if she'd planned events herself.

"Alex, get Doctor Wilt for me. Urgent call. Then start rounding up representatives for the other major medical device manufacturers, health care providers... Concentrate on their technical staff. C-level executives are just going to bog this down. Conference them in with Doctor Wilt and I as soon as you get them on the line..."

"Yes, Ma'am. I already have Doctor Wilt for you;" And the faint outline of an older woman with a short bob of gray hair appeared in the chair across from the Secretary-General. A moment later it had filled in and the butler retreated to continue with her task; "Erika - what is it? Alex said it was urgent. I'm in a board meeting."

It took less than a minute for the roboticist to explain the avenue of attack as proposed by the Avatar and in that time the warships reached their destination. Against the backdrop of her living room the atmosphere of the primary began to boil and churn, though it wasn't clear exactly who was responsible. All around them the various allied warships moved off, surrounding the two sides in a slowly moving half-arc. Perhaps his parting words had taken their intended effect as most seemed to keep their largest firepower facing towards the planet while a still respectful volume covered the invaders. A vortex was opening; Side walls were slowly swirling into a solid mass while a distinct funnel spiraled downward.

"Is it possible," Mona asked, her already-pale face completely drained of color. "Could they actually do such a thing?"

Erika's answer was a nod and an explanation, "Queendom vessels were there when the i'Halalaentariel detailed their scenario, which meant that Shodan was there. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, she started running penetration tests and determined that it was possible to subvert and reprogram most of the baby-in-a-box units. She was also able to penetrate several health care institutions and verify that one could potentially reprogram their organ replacement units to include a biological payload. It's frankly nauseating - a direct attack against not only civilians but the sick and injured. If true..."

Whether it was true or not was a question about to be answered. The largest sphere - presumably housing the Avatar's electronic intelligence - had positioned itself directly over the center of the vortex where it slowly rotated while the last vestiges of atmosphere below threw themselves against the walls of the cyclone. A moment later the reason, if not the cause, for the delay was answered as what traces were left lit up as the spire far below opened fire on the ships high above. Alone with the streaks of incoming laser fire came the few ships of the formerly hidden fleet and these were answered in turn as the spheres countered with destructive bursts of energy that detonated with brilliant force against the first thing that crossed their path.

"...and I'd call that definitive. We need to make sure it doesn't happen, and since Saint Medical makes a lot of these devices, we - as in the government - need you on board. I can't order the units secured, but if you'll push through your support that will get a lot of the other producers on-side."

"Of course! But what do we do?"

"Fortunately, you don't need to do anything. Queen Shodan is her usual through self - she's already got code avaliable to eliminate the vulnerabilities, sweep for infected systems, and alert us to any problems. You just need to make it policy..."

[Sunset]

Setting Two, Circlet I, Gen Celet System, Delta Quadrant...

"Everyone inside," Lae shouted, his voice rising to pierce the din as the cries and shouts of others sought to drown him out. "Get inside, go as far down as you can!"

One by one and in groups and clumps the Otterkin streamed past, some glancing warily at the Cyar's body armor and the heavy rifle he held and occasionally gestured with. Through the door and down into the deepest parts of the old warren complex and then finally into the dilapidated birthing nests where their kind had populated the rivers and streams for many thousands of years while they recovered from the carnage of the Kion attack. Overhead a Zeer'Gen fighter buzzed past, spread-wide wings slowing its flight while the trailing spines flashed with navigation and warning lights before being followed by another and another. However many thousands of years of preparation for the return of the Kion now seemed justified as they swarmed into the field to herd their population into the relative safety of the towering hive cities.

Safety was both relative, fleeting, and quick to return as the massive spinning construct sped towards, over, and past the battle space to give another few hours with the planet between here and there. Against the maneuvering warships of the i'Halalaentariel much of the rising fire from the Krȃng installation flew wide as return fire pounded the heavily armored spire and churned the sky and sea into a raging firestorm. It also rained down across the vast expanses of the individual Settings in a constant shower of seemingly random blows heedless of what or where it fell. Against soil and rock the precise laser blasts vaporized and then melted stretches of sand into rough oblongs of glass while enormous gouts of water flashed to steam. In the distance he could see them, the columns raised skyward as they retreated along the curve of the circlet as the battle once again passed them by. The first assumption would be that the battle would take minutes or less but with the still relatively thick atmosphere of the gas giant between the two much of their power was ablated so that only scars graced the towering kilometers of the spire.

"Any more?" Craning his neck, he looked around for any more of the slender mammalians with an eye towards the water. With danger in the sky, they had mostly stuck to the streams where they had both some protection and some sense of safety. It wasn't quite enough; He'd seen one pair of bodies floating downstream already and doubtless there were more, especially in the thickly populated First and Second Settings. A shadow passed overhead and he looked up, "Wha..."

High up in the atmosphere were a quartet of the distinctive pill-shaped Queendom warships. There were simply not enough to deal with the entire volume of fire from the Krȃng, but here and there they hovered over population centers and shelters where the mechanoids absorbed what fire they could, their oblong hulls slowly turning to distribute the damage along their perimeters. It was a calculated risk; If the Avatar's forces were repulsed or failed and the allied fleet took action, they would be already wounded...

[Sunset]

Jade Falcon, Casablanca, The Bogart System, Ares Cluster...

"All blasphemy aside," David fell back into the pillows, one of the farmer's arms around the naked shoulders of the pony-tailed engineer while the other curled behind his head to rest in the short hair of his mostly-bald pate, "Is there a Heaven? Well, from the perspective of my faith there must be. Just because we can't measure it and haven't managed to establish its existence with our science doesn't mean it doesn't or couldn't exist. Look at some of Doctor Brilla's work..."

The blonde woman turned to look up at him, "Saryan Brilla? How do you..."

"Know about her? Just because I'm a farmer - and a Christian - doesn't mean I'm not up on the latest science. She's put out a few fascinating papers on holographic theory and she's stupidly sexy. Can't hurt her chances to have one to look at while you study the other."

"And you are now going to tell me why I shouldn't roll out of bed right now and never come back," she asked, sitting up to pull the single sheet off him and around her shoulders. "What were you doing, fantasizing about her while we were having sex?"

He held up his hands and laughed, "No, of course not. I was fantasizing about having sex with you. You and your exact twin sister. Or was that with her and you?"

For a long moment she stared at him over her shoulder. It was sometimes impossible to tell whether he was teasing her - or anyone for that matter - or being just as serious as he claimed to be. Finally she gave up and lay down again to face him, though she kept the sheet tucked around her body so he'd have to at least apologize, "Okay, fine. So your theory is that Heaven might be a holographically separated portion of the regular universe?"

"Actually, I didn't have a theory, but that sounds pretty good! But the general idea is that we can't see or measure or experience Heaven because the local boundary conditions preclude our measuring it is theoretically sound, though not particularly theological. Of course when you're trying to explain to a bunch of sheep herders how God is a self-organizing manifestation of the Universe... Well, I just painted myself with a bit of a broad brush there, didn't I?" She nodded and he rolled to face her, putting one hand under his chin as if he was engaged in a moment of thought before reaching out and pulling her mouth closer for a kiss; "Thanks for agreeing with me - I'm fully comfortable with being an idiot."

"You are."

"I am. So are we short-circuiting the whole Heaven and Hell thing with the ExoCortex and this whole... Eternity Incorporated thing?" He wasn't quite sure on the details but the company advertising did promise eternal life, with some finely-worded legal qualifiers about the heat death or total collapse of the universe. "Again, until we can measure and rationalize through science Heaven or Hell or even whether we have a soul, it's a moot point. I know what the Menelmacari will tell us, but that's for them. Or maybe not. It really seems like they've created their own little set of boundary conditions, though being able to sing your way through a boundary reconstruction seems somewhat - absolutely - implausible."

"Allegory."

"Metaphor. Or bullshit. It could all be a ruse to cover up the existence of some big machine built by their alien ancestors. Hell, this could be their Heaven... It could be Heaven Turtles, all the way down!"

[Sunset]

New Vancouver Super-Arcology, Vallos Marineris, Mars...

Kyle deAranoso had a headache. A real screamer too, which was unusual in the he was both too young for such things and without the stress or tension that might reasonably have caused it. Instead he had woken up with a dull ache in the back of his head and, after a pair of pills scavenged from the very bottom of a bottle from when he'd broken his arm when he was twelve, he sat down to start his work day. Like many 'average' workers in the Republic, Kyle was a face on a process. His job was to act as the facilitator between the customer who ordered the product and the expert computer system that would make it a reality.

Or a fantasy, in his case.

Inside the various virtual worlds that stretched across the Sunset infosphere and beyond there was always a demand for something new. For some people it was a simple task of invoking the in-game creation system and generating the spaceship, exotic alien, fantastic monster, or table setting from the pre-made combinations. Others had the artistic talent to make their own, and others the technical ability to find something they found sexually appealing somewhere on the wild and wooly internet and copy it into whatever format was needed. Then there were those with no artistic talent and no technical ability and it was this group that Kyle's employer - the owner of the virtual world - drew his clients from. His particular specialty was armor customization where he would take the games vision of a fantasy world with carefully integrated high-tech elements and combine it with the player's desire to show as much skin as plausible without weakening the design to the extent that it would rub off on any sharp corner. He was particularly good at it normally; Combining chain mail, circuits, and underboob in creative and highly detailed ways that justified the eye-popping price tag.

But not today.

Instead every attempt at sleazy seemed demure and every slutty warrior princess became a dour housewife in her late fifties and run down as if hit by a truck and left there. Worse, the pain behind his eyes was only increasing and he finally logged out and rose from his seat in frustration. Rubbing his temples he glanced occasionally at the holo-monitors where a half-dozen pairs of over-clad breasts awaited his attention but every minute he could feel what little attention he could hold slipping away and a dull throb building until it felt as if it was blotting out his vision. There was a pressure there, something real and tangible and with a grunt of frustration he turned to the door and the seldom-used jacket that hung there. Pulling it across his slender shoulders with a motion that felt as though it took far too much effort, he stepped up to the door and out into the spiderweb of hallways that linked his apartment to hundreds and then thousands of others that spiraled through the carved-out interior of the Vallis canyon wall.

He could have ordered it, of course. Could have had a drone deliver a more powerful dose as well as expert medical advice given by another person in similar circumstances to his own - a face on a process. Something told him to seek help though. A pharmacy... He tried to concentrate, bring up the augmented reality interface and the invisible commands that would guide him to the nearest store, but he couldn't. A hospital. That's what he needed inside, and through the haze of pain he remembered the emergency icon that he'd hidden away outside his regular field of view. When would he ever need it? When, except for that one day when he'd been playing in the bedroom with his older brother and had fallen off the top bunk with a sharp crack. His hand went to his other forearm and he grasped it, the pain once again real. Something swam across his eyes - his real eyes - and he realized it was a trace of blood. Something was desperately wrong and he concentrated, tried to give the button the mental push that would summon help but he couldn't.

There was a snap. Something broke in his head and Kyle was no more. Instead he was a wounded animal lurching forward on pain and instinct to find somewhere safe. Crimson tinged the edge of his vision, tendrils of viscera trailing across where the veins in his eyeballs had ruptured. Something was pressing against them; His brain wanted out and he turned to the wall to smash his forehead against the painted concrete. He would let it out, let it escape so that the pain would end. Now real blood flowed over his eyes and he wiped it away with a hand and then pulled back to scream and take another run at it. Incandescent rage burst in his head and he turned to yell at the closest passerby, his fellow pack-mate who must be made aware of his suffering. It was a woman, tall and dark, and she eyed him from behind green tinted sunglasses. There was something odd about her, something not quite right. She should be running, should be trying to hide, but instead she watched him passively for a moment before reaching inside the jacket she wore loose.

She was studying him.

He was prey and she the predator and she was taking the measure of his weakness. Another snap, another burst of red across the inside of his head, and he howled wildly before racing towards her at a charge. Only narrowly aware of the weapon she had produced and now held steady at his chest, he crossed the last few meters and jumped as she perhaps pulled the trigger. For only an instant the pressure was intense and then what he was and had been disintegrated into a fine red mist as the puddle gun separated hydrogen and oxygen to leave what was left continuing forward in a vaguely man-shaped heap. She stepped aside, a simple turn of the foot and the gun following his corpse as if she had planned out the motion beforehand and her body was simply following instructions. Again she fired - no trigger was pulled - and directly into the skull this time. What dihydrogen monoxide hadn't been liberated in the first shot was now forcefully expelled as the hard structure broken down into shards of calcium and trace minerals.

Checking up and down the hallway again, Ivy swept the pistol back under her jacket and into the concealed holster inside her rib cage. A moment later two women rounded the corner - furry, and wearing knitted stocking caps to keep their long ears down as well as sleek looking track suits that might have been body armor as well - they jogged up to the body and began to clear it away. At the far end of the hall where he had just come from a drone rushed past, circular and hovering. In a moment it had cut through the security on his door and was in the middle of his living room-slash-every room where a quick pivot told the remote operator there was no one else present. A quick hum, a pulse, and every glass and jar in the fridge exploded as the larger warhead went off. On the shelf in his closet where an innocuous white box had been churning out a real kitten to Kyle's exact specifications a dozen squirming translucent blue parasites burst as well, their liquid insides blowing their thick skin apart as it became gas under the weapon's invisible influence...

[Sunset]

Special Projects Covert Research Facility 74-A (Sigma), Denali, The Yukon System...

"Aww, they're cute. Well, okay, not really. They're kinda ugly," Kraus leaned close to the glass, the tip of his nose and the edges of his eyebrows almost - but intentionally not - touching the transparent surface. "But science isn't always cute."

What they were was immature Krȃng. As soon as the warning regarding the possibility - and then reality - of a remote compromise of the various artificial life engineering systems scattered in their millions around the Republic had blasted through his inbox and into his reality, Doctor Kraus had ignored all the warnings and provided security updates and done exactly the opposite. Within minutes he'd erected a wildcat internet connection in his lab and hooked it up to ten off-the-shell units of various model and manufacturer before placing these above the fluid line in the cloning tubes in the back of his lab. That had given the malicious connections enough time to bypass the non-existent security, inject their payload, and subvert the default bio-matrix (God, he hated monkeys...) into a gaggle of their own progeny.

"Is gaggle the right word for it?" He asked aloud. "A gaggle of Krȃng? I'm pretty sure that's a gaggle of geese, but we'll leave that one for the linguists. But something about this particular scenario seems familiar..."

He reached out with a finger and while he watched the translucent parasites swim around in the nutrient fluid, he conjured up a holographic search engine and typed in a few magical words. A moment later a list of results returned and he turned to look them over, ignoring the little three-tentacled monsters as they splattered harmlessly against the glass over and over. If it could contain a rampaging cyber-gorilla, it could handle the little blue jellyfish. The second entry was exactly what he wanted and he brought it up, the entries unfolding into a network of classified reports, spectral images, and bland documentation. Months previously, the countryside manor of one Doctor Stephen Ambrose - noted television personality and purveyor of the nutritional supplement best known by its current incarnation as NuSEXYE - had come under concentrated ground attack by a group consisting of uplifted humanoid rats and the pre-pre-historic regeneration of the Sh'Dos. Four legs, black fur and skin, and a slowly growing and carefully monitored colony on Chains of Jade. At some point someone should bother to add them to the official list of minor species. Minor in population, not in ability. Everything so far said they were just as much nurture over nature as most every other sapient species.

"Oh Stephen, I bet you had fun with that one," he stepped back, swinging a picture of his fraternity brother front and center for a moment before sending it away to replace it with an image of a long-faced black alien with tall, pointed ears. "One must wonder," he spun it around so that the baby Krȃng could see it and he studied them closely for any sign of recognition. If there was one, they also seemed to be cognizant that the image was just that and, having abandoned their attempts to cross the distance, swim up his nose, and eat out his brain cavity, they had returned to swimming aimlessly in the nutrient ooze. "Well, no relation. I guess. We'll have to do some testing later. Could just be that the writer was lazy or sub-consciously writing the same story again from a different angle."

Which was entirely possible. He'd been dealing with some major stress lately. Still, whatever the cause, he wiped away a slight stain of tears from his cheek and continued.

"So that's one interesting coincidence down. What about number two?"

Pushing the virtual clutter to one side, he tapped at the physical controls to the cloning tank and watched as a robotic arm uncoiled from inside its protective housing and sought out one of the darting swimmers. A needle - rather larger than it needed to be thanks to his hatred of monkeys - unsheathed itself and as the little guy tried to get away it lanced out like a spear gun fired by a cybernetic sport fisher to impale the wriggling mass on the end. There was no need for a plunger - the needle was just that big - and so it withdrew almost immediately to leave the poor thing careening around the interior in obvious pain. Then its fellow brood-lings sensed weakness, swarmed around it, and while the arm retracted they descended on their brother to devour it and eliminate one more roadblock on their own path to potential sentience. Not that Kraus intended to let them get that far.

Munch on a few monkeys? Sure. But that was for later, during his stretches and meditation.

"And we'll compare it to the earlier sample..." He tapped away, and the now-concealed needle dumped its payload into a system that extracted the pseudo-genetic information. This appeared as a stylized molecule, compared itself to another, highlighted any differences - there weren't - and then another popped up as Kraus generated another search console and typed in a file number that was written into the very essence of his being.

In fact, the deoxyribonucleic acid shown was his own and - thanks to some still-unknown outside influence - contained a reasonably concise technical description of both a space ship, how to get there, and more importantly where to go to get there. Each of these hundred thousand or so odd ships had been concealed or landed or crashed on various planets scattered across the galaxy and, when pieces together along their triangular edges, would form an enormous sphere not unlike a Dyson sphere except smaller in nature. Galactic drift had assured that the recreated tracing of just exactly where each of these ships was continued to take up the time of a small fleet or large task force of Exploration Command vessels, but what hadn't been answered was the 'why' or the 'who'. Thus far only a few score of the ships themselves had been discovered and where they wouldn't interfere with the efforts of some local population to utilize them, they had been activated and tracked as they slowly linked up with the rest of the spherical armada.

"I'd say someone's compensating for something."

Whether compensation was the reason or not, the difference was clear and thus the possibility for similarity quickly discarded. His own DNA was a looping strand that just barely extended past the standard for Homo Sapiens while the near-equivalent for the Krȃng was a monster roller coaster that would pull more g's than a breakfast cereal tiger. The reason was information and some advanced knowledge of the species had already helped the Doctor and his scattered colleagues suss out the particulars. The Krȃng equivalent was so enormous, so simply gigantic because it needed to be. One Krȃng was essentially the previous with each genetic iteration adding what were likely 'core' or 'root' memories as well as complex statements that over-rode previous memories. One of these - a very, very long one - had already been determined to be the operating system that they were capable of self-injecting into their various drones and vessels. These were all slightly different but the best guess was that they originated from somewhere around seventeen (which was very precise for 'somewhere around') ancestors that likely made up the bulk of the Krȃng's interstellar expansion.

Which was exactly the point of all of this rigmarole. While Agent Madison and every other available Anathema agent scrambled to intercept and eliminate whatever slipped through the combined computing screens of the Republic and her allies, Kraus was instead gathering information on the perpetrators. Since they had written it all down - sorta - the best way to do that was to crack the bindings on the book and see what they had scribbled in their diary...

[Sunset]

SDF-Aleadalat Al'iilhia, Gen Celet System, Delta Quadrant...

Fleet Admiral Vamvakis stood at his post, his feet in exactly the same spot where they'd been when the Avatar had left and exactly where they had been when the battle between the i'Halalaentariel and the Krȃng had begun in earnest. There was no reason for him to move; His cybernetic body needed neither food nor drink nor elimination and it was continually recharged via induction from the slight electromagnetic field emitted by the ship's artificial gravity system. Instead a distinct feeling of uncertainty was building in the windings of his circuits - the pit of his stomach, for those more used to a biological analogy - though it was not the unease of emotion but rather the cold calculation of numbers and statistics. The battle between the two monsters - one self-proclaimed, the other mysterious - had gone on for too long now and both the casualties and the possibilities were growing.

When they had declared their intention, he'd had every certainty that the Avatar's fleet would triumph. Against the static target of the deep atmosphere installation the mobile ships would have the easier time of it and that they were specifically built to fight the Krȃng only added to the likelihood that they would shortly succeed. However, the spire had proven a tough nut to crack. Protected even in part by the thick atmosphere, it had absorbed an extended close-range bombardment from the sprawling i'Halalaentariel warships without showing any particular sign of distress. In fact four full rotations of the Circlet had now passed and that put them at nearly eight hours in; In that time the assembled allied ships would have stripped a similarly sized terrestrial planet to its mantle several times over. Certainly the two were built to fight and moreover endure each other but he could not help the increasing feeling that there was something wrong.

Something was wrong.

In only the few minutes after the warning had been issued, something had found and then connected to an unattended wireless connection and had used it to access, obtain, penetrate, and corrupt hundreds to thousands of artificial wombs, cloning tanks, and other similar systems in an effort to spread the Krȃng around the galaxy once again. This had cemented their place as a evil that must not be tolerated, but the fortunate coincidence of an onsite QACF task force had minimized the damage with the Queendom's self-replicating army of virtual intelligence's ferreting out and either destroying or neutralizing the affected units. Those that could not be stopped were placed in the hands of flesh-and-blood operatives while urgent security updates had been pushed out to the manufacturers and then downstream to their devices. It was all very neat and tidy and entirely too convenient.

Where was the other shoe?

Far beyond the false windows of the Aleadalat Al'iilhia's bridge, the atmosphere of Circlet I's gravitational primary had been churned into a raging firestorm. The constant barrage from the ships in orbit had super-heated and eventually ignited the otherwise inflammable and now they burned as the sun as momentary great bands of plasma and flame rippled across the surface from one particular pocket and concentration of flammables to another. It hadn't seemed to affect the combatants at all, except where it lessened the effectiveness of their weapons. Crackling blasts still rose from the towering Spire while replies in startling blue crashed down on it from the spherical warships. Here and there a cross-member had been severed, or a node had been blown out to leave its linkages dangling, and of course the odd meta-material of the Krȃng meant that their sensor readings were particularly muddy; Seemingly clear one moment they were replaced with nothing but ghosts the next.

"...Admiral." It was the first time one of the bridge crew had spoken to him directly and he turned the sharp slab of his face just a centimeter to acknowledge it. Whether the officer had noticed or not, she went on regardless with an urgency in her tone that was barely masked behind professional detachment, "Two of the i'Halalaentariel ships are behaving oddly."

Twin holograms appeared on either side, enough for him to observe but not enough to block his line of sight to the bridge windows. Thoughtful, perhaps, but he turned and they followed him as he strode to the enormous holosphere with its titanically scaled representation of the battle.

"Unit designated IHA-Zero-Four appears to be experiencing mechanical difficulties..."

The Hoberman sphere was fighting itself. Linkages and nodes were attempting to expand or contract against each other and tugging the whole in various unnatural ways that resulted in a series of wave-like patterns rippling around the exterior only to collide with each other and disappear. Whatever the cause, the battering could not last and as he watched the first linkage broke, sending debris flinging away while the arm snapped back to impact the connected node before itself detaching. This new weakness only exasperated the destruction and he could see, in fine detail, the eventual destruction coming before it had even truly begun; "And the other..."

He barely said the words before blinding flashes erupted from the ship's weapons as it turned on its closest neighbor. Where its weapons had gone dark for a moment as the whole was suborned, the remaining ships in the Avatar's suddenly-smaller fleet responded with ferocity as they rapidly moved to encircle and envelop the rogue. Missiles and energy crossed the void but Vamvakis had seen enough. Where ships designed to fight a defeated foe could be turned against their own, so too could potentially be his own.

"Time to end this," he announced, his voice set to authoritative. "Contact the Avatar, advise them to withdraw. Offer Admiral Quraishi my regards and notify him that he is clear to engage." That would send the Combined Services expeditionary force in first; An unforced risk thanks to the incoming fire absorbed by the Queendom vessels in their protective action over the Circlet. This time it would be the meatbags who would provide cover for the mechanoids. "And order Admiral Falk's ships to line up on the EF's star-ward flank. Assault Squadron Epsilon;" That was the Defense Force cluster waiting out-system, "Will come in on the outside when general engagement has begun and provide cover for close quarters attack runs by their Destroyer section..."

His own confidence rose. Atmosphere be damned, when the Assault Squadron's Destroyer section hit the planet at speed they'd turn that Spire into a smoldering cinder. Confidence was not the same thing as certainty, however, and deep in the tracings of electronic pathways something was still wrong...

[Sunset]

A Beach-Side Bungalow, GEC-1042091C...

"One reef down, a thousand to go," Timmons shrugged, broad shoulders baking nicely under the still-warm heat of the early evening sun. "You never know when, or what, you're going to find. Or even if you're going to find it. That's just the nature of exploring."

Stretched out in an inflatable beach chair under an awning pulled from the side of the landed Anaconda, Alwyra could only agree, "No need to justify a fruitless day of searching with me, Commander. On the trap line we'd go days without a catch, struggling through snow deeper than our ears, coming back to the cabin soaked to the skin and nearly frozen to death..."

Of course, the cabin was luxurious and her work on the trap line was essentially for fun; A constant stream of income from the Tyrant Stone miners on Hanson's Kneecap kept the billionaire flush with liquid assets. She worked - however nominal - because it was motivating and challenging and the same was now true of her life as a wealthy adventurer.

"You're making me want to go home," Kedo laughed. Like the others he was gathered under the partial shade with an honest-to-god campfire in a ring of stones laid out in the center. While his wife sprawled daiquiri in hand, he sat forward with a long metal skewer in hand, twin sausages roasting on the split prongs. Annya was laid out in front of him, her back just brushing his shins while she warmed her belly. Much further away Deania walked the sands at the border between surf and shore, studying her feet intently. All in all, none seemed particularly interested in taking his statement seriously.

Of the mysterious blue fish there had been not a sign. Pushing through the tail of the wrecked Kion warship, the first team had found essentially nothing while the second had seen plenty of interesting and beautiful flora and fauna but no immortal fish. That had led them to the island and their gathering point under a trio of trees that looked suspiciously like palms. The Qasr's shuttle would serve as their bungalow and with the addition of semi-transparent awnings fastened to the exterior bulkheads it would make a comfortable shelter for the night. The weather forecast was excellent with a brief warm rain expected overnight and a tide that would just be retreating again in the morning. Of anything more advanced than a beach creb there was nothing but the wrecked warship sprawled out over a hump in the reef. Drinks and food led naturally to conversation and it was only when Timmons was done regaling them with the details of his last disastrous relationship that they noticed their missing companion.

"Where's Deania?"

A look up and down the beach towards the setting sun and into the darkness confirmed that the Seeker had indeed disappeared from sight, though whether she had passed by the camp again no one could say. The obvious answer was to check her status on their shared communications and as this showed green and slowly moving none were particularly concerned but instead curious as to what was keeping the young woman away. With that in mind, Timmons put in a call which was momentarily returned; "I'll be back in a while. Just... Got distracted."

That was both satisfactory and cause for at least one pair of raised eyebrows but when she returned in a half-hour and well into starry darkness not a word was said though a mysterious smile plagued the big explorer until morning. This was only reinforced as they got up for the day and, as food was again laid out, she ate quickly before disappearing into the depths of the shuttle's cargo area to return with a day pack stuffed with supplies and a short-handled mining shovel over one shoulder as well as a fishing pole carried in the other hand.

"The fishing pole... Seems an odd way to go about chasing our quarry," he pointed out, but she nodded and shrugged, "But you might have some clever plan there. But the shovel?"

"That's because I'm not after our fish. That's for lunch."

"And the shovel?"

"Arr, matey," she growled, her voice as low as she could manage, "That be for the treasure I be hunting. Ah'n if you be wantin' some o' me treasure, you'll have to be carrying it..."

[Sunset]

SDF-Ojeni, GEC-1342109, Canis Major II Dwarf Galaxy...

"They've ordered general engagement," Lieutenant Yu announced, not turning from his position but talking instead to the array of monitors and instruments even as data and information continued to scroll past. "All other elements are to continue as assigned, all elements are to keep a high level of alertness for any suspicious activity that may or may not be associated with the Krȃng. Asymmetrical capabilities and activities are to be assumed," he finished, reading off the condensed general communique from Fleet Headquarters.

The moments of silence that followed were deafening, as tense in the minute as the last eight hours had been in total. Officers studied their stations carefully though one or the other caught the opportunity to sneak a side-ways glance either at the other or at the Captain as she stared at the forward screen. The seconds stretched on and then she sat back to herald a collective breath from across the bridge.

"You heard them - follow our assignment until we hear otherwise, keep an eye out for the Krȃng. I'm going to include the i'Halalaentariel in that on general principle. You'd figure that our Salvation would take something less than eight hours to destroy an enemy they claim to have demolished utterly and at close range with a significant tactical advantage. We'll keep an eye on how our turn at bat is going," she turned to the Lieutenant, who nodded; As inviting as the dramatic battle would be, his job would be to keep the information paced out so that focus on other areas could be maintained. "But we have an assignment."

It was an assignment they had already completed, at least in her mind, but while it was clear that the Krȃng were the bad guys and the i'Halalaentariel were their enemies the Maxim was 'The Enemy of My Enemy is my Enemy's Enemy, no More, no Less.' To trust that they would be friendly after events was already a stretch given their self-proclaimed status as monsters-in-need.

"I believe Admiral Falk said 'We need answers one way or another and Ojeni is in the best place to get those answers.' So go find some answers. She didn't say what answers in particular, or which rocks we need to look under, so let's go find some answers that maybe we weren't particularly looking for!"

It was a creative interpretation of already nebulous orders, but apparently someone else had already been thinking along the same lines as Lieutenant Commander Ingersol spoke up just a half-second later, "And Captain, I have someplace to go looking." She swiveled around and for a moment all eyes were on him as he thumbed the controls at his station before turning to look towards the center of the bridge, "Since I had a few hours, I had second shift run a stellar survey. And a gravitation survey. And... Well, pretty much every survey that we could do without moving from our current position. And what they found was this..."

An image of a star appeared in the main holosphere, a far-distant ball of nuclear fire slowly fusing from helium into carbon. Even for the Ojeni's double-array of high-precision sensors the distant object was faint but importantly something was moving in front of it. Slow, certainly, but whatever it was had the sort of scale to cause a shadowed flickering as it moved across the dull red face. If it had been a planet or planets the motion would have been entirely different - and far slower - but by the timescale at the bottom the interference was in the order of minutes rather than months or years. Whatever it was, it had to be either very close to the star; "Or simply enormous. On the scale of the VELMA around Athena."

That was the Very Large Energy-to-Matter Array that had been slowly built out around the non-titular star in the Ares System and usually called 'Velma' instead of the acronymically correct 'Vlema'. Essentially a titanic solar array, it collected the solar energy thrown off by the star and converted it to matter where it was then used to produce various bits and bobs from nothing but energy. In terms of modern manufacturing capability, it was somewhat outdated compared to other production facilities, but in terms of solar coverage it would provide something of the same effect if one happened to be viewing the star from galactic bottom.

"And do you know what it is?"

"Actually, I have a very good idea what it is. Reconstruction of the interference pattern suggests that it might be a expanding helicoid."

"A whaaa?"

In front of the star another image appeared, this time of a wireframe reconstruction based on the already-given interference pattern. A structure appeared and now the similarities and the possible source were readily apparent. Like the expanding spheres of the i'Halalaentariel, it was composed of relatively thin linkages connecting to a multitude of central nodes that created a helical framework, "An expanding helicoid. If it is..."

"Then let's find out," Kami decided. "Helm - set course and engage. Let's find some 'answers'!"

[Sunset]

Circlet I Primary Deep Atmosphere, Gen Celet System, Delta Quadrant...

As fine as a thread and as deadly as a dagger to the heart, the thin crack spread from the tallest tip of the Spire to the lowest nave, only stopping where it barely met the great sphere at the center. Whatever wonderous mechanism had kept the structure whole and untarnished came to failure and with the sudden roar of a landslide the third split away to plunge into the titan's orb and pierce it through and through again, the heart of the construct at last proving itself utterly vulnerable only to itself. Freed from the constraints of structure the shard plunged through and into the depths, its passage marked by a sudden surge in the fantastically compressed gases the whole floated on and this last gushed through the hole to flash into vapor at the edges before falling back in a spectacular wave that washed the fragile remains of the Geim away and into the depths.

"And that should be that," Vamvakis said, watching unmoved as the Destroyer squadron that had apparently dealt the fatal blow swept across the field, ventral and chase guns continuing to pound away at the two remaining undamaged flanges. A weak stagger of return fire followed them but this was slacked as torpedoes splashed across the face, eliminating turrets or knocking them out of action in great bursts of white-hot energy. "Sent the QACF around to the side; They should be given the final blow."

As suggested, a hole was made and the Queendom's flotilla of orbs and pills was allowed through the line of battle to take advantage of the wound and award them for their earlier sacrifice. A sense of impending victory had ran across the bridge crew and for a moment fire both from the Aleadalat Al'iilhia and the armada in general slacked with careful precision blows taking the place of the overwhelming volume of fire that had heralded their entry into the battle. Internal spars and structures were cut and the inevitable draw of gravity did its work, pulling the remaining two off-center and then one under the other as they collapsed into a cross and then tumbled into the sea. This left only the great orb of the central construct and already this drifted lower as various internal compartments flooded and breached to flood again, the fantastically cold gases turned to metal washing over whatever might be in their way.

Minutes later, the spire was gone. Washed beneath the waves it had dropped into the crushing depths until not even a shadow remained.

"But where is the other shoe?" The Admiral finally moved, turned from his place, only to find himself once again face-to-face with the Avatar.

"The other shoe?"

"A Human expression. Born out of the high-rise apartment dwellers in New York City where one bedroom would often be above another with only a thin floor between. When the first shoe dropped and thus made a loud noise, those dwelling in the rooms below would often stop their conversation until the second dropped so as to avoid an interruption. Thus I am waiting for the other shoe to drop; The other surprise the Krȃng have prepared for us. Your conflict seems to be based in the asymmetrical with the direct offensive capabilities of both sides neatly offset by the defensive of the other. The Spire failed because it was prepared for your weapons but not ours, though the method of failure was remarkable."

"An over-crystallization of their armor matrix."

"So noted," he nodded. "But do I miss my guess or should I be asking what size this other shoe is? Their attempt at infiltration has been largely stymied; What else do they have in store?"

i'Farerelia's answer, when it came, was not particularly useful, "You have witnessed both the insidious nature of the Krȃng and your ability to take victory over them. Do not think it will be the last time you will face them, however. We have watched for nearly a hundred thousand of your years and yet they have chosen this time, this place, to re-emerge. Perhaps they thought to wait until our interest had waned but one cannot out-wait that which does not know the concept."

"So you don't know."

If it wasn't a shrug, it was certainly interpreted as such, "No. The only thing I can assure you of is their thirst for the minds of others. It is as intrinsic to their nature as your own silicon construction is to yours..."

[Sunset]

Jero Heron's Shop, The Slave Market, Lethon, The Fringe...

"Let us be blunt, Misser..." Jero extended a long scaled finger, the many joints forming into a perfect question mark as they pointed to the unfamiliar face that sat neatly beside the Dwarf who leaned familiarly against his counter as though it was her own. "Misser..."

He looked to she, Meli nodded, and a name was supplied, "ScLappi."

"Ah. Doctor then. You have quite the sum placed on your head by your former Prince, though I believe your current protection will be more than suited to ward off those interested. But that is not the subject at hand," the Reptilian rose, neatly uncoiling from the tall stool to slide around the bar and out onto the showroom floor. Across the walls and around him stood the platforms where his various wares would be displayed but they, along with the city, were dark as the evening had long since passed. Instead the three were alone, locked in the shop behind decorative bars that still performed their function admirably. "You had asked about the slave trade and why this place has not simply been obliterated. An interesting question and one which I have already given an answer to; A young man of limited experience and poorly veiled curiosity came to ask it as well and I supplied the answer for," he rubbed his fingers together and slid them into his lavishly embroidered robe, "The correct amount."

"Since he paid it without question, I only assume he too was a spy, but again - not the subject at hand. The work of a day? An hour? Already word of your victory over these... Krȃng... has spread. Do not look surprised, Miss Slaghammer - they threaten our business in particular and it would not do for any successful businessman to keep his ears plugged. Just as your fleets destroyed them, so too could they destroy Lethon. A dirty collection of brick and stone against ships of war designed to carry victory against the technological prowess of empires that span the stars? No," he laughed, his voice carrying only the bare end of a hiss, "I think not. And why? Because the dirty little secret is that slavery is good for the Republic..."

Meli sighed but the Doctor, who was wearing an entirely different body than he had been a week previous, looked perplexed, "Why is slavery good for the Republic? By every description they abhor it."

"Which is not to say that they practice it, despite what some of the more addle-minded might believe regarding their particular form of criminal punishment," Jero continued, as though the intervening point had not been made. "But benefit? Certainly. Ask how much one of the common rabble costs," he directed, circling around to one of the larger stands and presumably the high-priced slave that would ordinarily be positioned there in careful display while a buyer waited. "A thousand credits. Perhaps a little more, perhaps a little less. Depending on the supply on that particular day and hour, as well as the wealth of the buyers. One of my more fantastic commodities? Fifty, sixty... A hundred thousand. And how much are you paid, Miss Slaghammer?"

"Five hundred something," she answered with a shrug. She didn't keep particular track - it was a lot, but money wasn't her particular motivator as many an expired foe would have attested had they not been missing that particular ability. Or that part of their anatomy.

"Multiply that by a particularly long life and the average citizen of the Republic adds billions in wealth to its economy. Billions - certainly more that whatever benefit even the finest slave will bring its owner. Those states that rely on slaves thus do themselves a disservice but they know not better; It is in their nature. Meanwhile the Republic roars ahead. And yet this is not the only advantage served up - there is also the question of governance. Slaves do not wish to remain so. Escapes are constant, even from the pens and holds here. What little money is made in a week can be lost in an afternoon, and for those empires who depend on slavery the costs are constant and can only increase when the slaves become aware of places of freedom. Uprisings, rebellions, insurrections - all are to the benefit of the Republic."

"Held bahk bah their own stupidity," Meli nodded to a similar gesture from Jero; "As you say. But more than that - your patrons gain the appearance of nobility as well. They fight the good fight, stand for the freedoms of all sentient peoples. And in some ways they mean it as well; Many of the slaves who pass through this very market are bought by your own agents to begin new lives in Sunset."

"They would need to be educated," ScLappi objected but only to a smile from the Purveyor; "Exactly. They will need housing, and education, and jobs. To the benefit of your economy. And, it must be pointed out, the highest levels of education are not strictly needed. Workers in the Republic are largely a face on a process. Robots, computers... These are the true workers. And a former slave making their way in the land of freedom and liberty? Again, the Republic wins on the battlefield of public perception. Thus the Republic - and likely the young spy's masters - will not destroy this place. It is valuable to them both directly and indirectly. And I?" He returned to his seat, "I will continue my good work. To speak of which," he reached under the counter and found the hidden latch that allowed slim fingers access to the secret compartment, "Here. Passed to me in secret... I think you will find it useful."

Handing it to the Dwarf, he returned the hand and the payment it now contained to its place inside the fold of his robes while she tucked it away inside her vest without even a peek; "Aye, thahks."

"Do not thank me yet. I have not taken the liberty myself, but rumors swirl and I would exercise all due caution when dealing with those who call themselves Wildfire..."

[Sunset]

Special Projects Covert Research Facility 74-A (Sigma), Denali, The Yukon System...

*Twhack!*

Dr. Kraus' other shoe hit the laboratory floor with the slick-slap of leather on tile and for a moment the scientist tottered, teetering back and forth on one foot as he struggled to first lace one loafer and then retrieve the other from where it had fallen amidst the carnage of last night's debauchery, "Oh, darn it all to heck..."

"Doctor Kraus;" "Fredrick;" Site Director Kryger prompted, half-interrupted by the younger woman standing next to her, "I'm sure whatever you've asked Director Silaco to join us for is more important than proper footwear!"

How much more important was, quite possibly, a valid question. Something or someone or even worse something had gone through the lab like a twister through a Red State trailer park to leave carnage in its wake that could have been given the title unholy, awesome, spectacular, dangerous, or heartbreaking - pick any or all. Not a stood or chair was left standing or undamaged and every piece of equipment short of a hundred kilos had been tossed from here to there and back again only to leave parts strewn across the space between. The drop ceiling had been pulled down here and there and something or somethings indescribable had been inserted between it and the concrete while the raised floor had been torn up to expose bundles of conduit and cabling that had been used to tie something down, however briefly. Then there was the blood - Oh God, the Blood - which was everywhere and in various shades and colors which meant it might not be blood or just as worse meant it might once have been.

All of which Francine and Katryna were taking in stride. Neither seemed particular concerned with the destruction, nor was there any effort by the first to organize some kind of clean-up while the second seemed content to kick herself a little circle of stability and a path from the door to the great slab of a workbench where the three stood; "So, Doc, what's the problem?"

"The problem..." Kraus finished tugging on the second shoe, not bothering with the laces but instead jamming his foot into it and creasing the back as if he were some impatient eight year old, "The problem is that they - the Krȃng - can hack an ExoCortex!"

"How?"

Katryna's response hadn't been tinged with his own exclamation but he continued as though it had, "Remember my report of... Well, my report that I filed several months ago where I was able to stop the ExoCortex integration process part-way and then implant it in another subject to absorb and integrate parts of their personality?! I mean, assuming I filed a report. Which I should. Because that's my job, generating reports. Anyway! Yesterday I was continuing with my research into their physiology - how they absorb neural tissue, recover the information from it, integrate it, and the like, and I decided the best way to do this was to take a test subject, implant an ExoCortex, then use that as an instrument to record exactly how the immature Krȃng picks and chooses which areas to consume first."

"In a gorilla," Site Director Kryger interjected hastily, an understandable response from a sideways glance from her boss, "Non-sentient, right Doctor?!"

"Right! Of course! Just..."

"You hate monkeys," Katryna nodded, "Though a rational observer would point out that gorillas are great apes and not strictly monkeys. Continue, please."

He shrugged, "Eh, same difference. Anyway, I had the test subject in one of the tanks along with a number of blanks and I'd introduced a number of immature Krȃng to each chamber to jump-start the process. If they are fighting each other, they're far more aggressive - even if the host isn't sentient and they won't mature. I did the same thing with the implanted subject and things were going normally until the reporting process on the ExoCortex started throwing up errors. Somehow - I'm not quite sure how - the survivor had managed to trick the 'Exo's interface into thinking that the integration process wasn't done. Now, it shouldn't have been able to do that; The ExoCortex has safeguards, of a sort, against that. The neurological tissue has to be of the same type as started the process. Which means that these supposedly 'immature' young are smart enough and capable enough to somehow present themselves as having Terran-type neuro-tissue."

"Hold on a tick - are you saying that the immature Krȃng was integrated into the ExoCortex?"

That was one of the implant's various technological tricks; As it copied the information from one brain cell after another into itself, it killed off those cells by accelerating and triggering the body and brain's own natural regenerative cycle and then inserting the electronic replacement into the neurological matrix where the previous cell had been. Eventually those sections of the brain that made 'you' 'you' would be fully replaced - migrated, to use the more technically and less brain-killy term - by the implant and thus immortality of a sort would be achieved. It was a little creepy to think about, but; "No - it wasn't. Remember that the Krȃng are unicellular organisms. Just staggeringly complex unicellular organisms. Triggering the replacement process would kill the spawn and wouldn't get them very far."

"My guess;" A gesture and a hologram of the ExoCortex appeared with an immature Krȃng wrapped around it frantically humping away, "Is that it was able to use the interface programmed... Built? Coded? Into the third tentacle to emulate the neurological tissue as well as indicate to the implant that said tissue had been successfully eliminated. Which is scary-complex for something that is pretty much an over-sized Naegleria fowleri."

"How quickly did this happen?"

"Umm..." Another pair of images, this time of the lab before the disaster and of a scrolling log documenting various data entries. Working through the two, it took the Doctor a good few seconds to come across the relevant points, "Twenty three seconds."

Katryna leaned forward and then carefully put one slender foot and then another into the heart of the debris field to edge close enough to the hologram to begin scrolling through it, "Is it possible that the Krȃng have come across something like the ExoCortex before? We already know that their DNA analog is far more complex than any species we know about. Even the Kal-En-Vesho;" Which were capable and quite willing to live millions of years and who had built and maintained an empire based on the fundamental manipulation of life in all its forms, "Don't have one-hundredth the number of entries. We already suspect the i'Halalaentariel are either an electronically ascended species or are the artificial intelligence remnants of one. And we know they were somehow able to suborn one of their ships. That would place the possibility of a similar system being previously encountered - along with the large time frames involved - firmly within the realm of possibility," she decided, stepping back to fold her arms under her chest while the un-paused carnage from the ensuing disaster played out on the second screen.

"So yeah, then I paid attention to that, the gorilla smashed itself way out of the chamber, broke the others out, and..."

"Right. I must admit, Doctor..." A pair of gunshots rang out from the projection, "I'm impressed with your ability to fight off a dozen rampaging great apes. Should I be concerned with how easily they were able to escape the cloning tanks?" Holographic Dr. Kraus had just emptied his pistol into a third, dropping it with a cross-screen splatter of gore, and had reached for a vaguely sword-shaped piece of the shattered tank when she stopped the recording and rewound to a previous moment, "Ah. It used a sharpened piece of the instrument arm to score the plastic and then attack the weakness. Looks like we'll be upgrading to a new model..."

"Yes! Well, no. That was kinda fun."

"Except," she flicked a finger forward again to a critical moment, "Where they grabbed you and ripped you limb from limb, beating your head against the workbench like a coconut until your brains spilled out..."

Then the Marines arrived and it was all fire and energy as they swept through the laboratory like an armored tornado, particle rifles crackling and hairy bodies exploding into flaming chunks of viscera and blood. Site Director Kryger followed shortly, dressed less than suitably in her bathrobe and slippers, while Kraus himself came shortly behind, a virtual clipboard in hand as he surveyed the carnage impassively while Francine screamed at him and the Marine power armor followed Rule Number One on the supposed corpses.

Double-Tap.

"...I should give Tibowski a call, see how his retirement is going." There was an exasperated sigh from just over her shoulder but she continued, "So we know that they can, potentially, subvert an ExoCortex. I'll get people on that right away, make sure we can stop it and make sure we don't have a bunch of mind-raped people running around with the Ghosts of the Krȃng in their heads. Good work, Doctor. Get this cleaned up quickly - I want to know if they can work their way through an Eien Node or subvert an AI or evolved II. Yesterday, Doctor..."

[Sunset]

Erika & Demi's House, Botany Bay, Chuh-Yu, Ares System...

"Pre-pre-school? Do you really think Nathyn needs that?" The subject of her objection squirmed in her arms, exerting force and leverage in the unique way that only a toddler can, and Demi bent over to set the youngster down only to straighten up and catch Erika staring down the disappearing remains of her cleavage. For a moment she pulled the hem of her shirt up but then reconsidered, tugging it low enough with a pinch of fabric to reach the very bottom and the clasp of her bra, "Maybe I should leave this down - will it help me win the argument?"

"We're having an argument?"

Erika continued to stare unabashedly and for a moment Demi was tempted to just doff her top completely and prove once again that breasts command power. It had been several days since they had last enjoyed each other physically, after all, but that was just part of her point as her partner was about to explain, "No... But we can have make-up sex afterwards. Why do you think we need to be thinking about school already? He can barely walk!"

At her feet, he proved just that point by grabbing a pant leg with his tight little fist, hauling himself up, and then taking a whole three steps before sitting back down with the heavy thump and squish of someone who needed yet another diaper change.

"Because he needs some stability in his life. His mom's are two very important people and it seems like we're careening from crisis to crisis right now. A structured learning environment will help with that."

"...what about Alex?" She could hear the butler in the kitchen just that very moment and, if she had to guess, the freckle-faced woman was already in the middle of making either lunch, dinner, or a dessert for tomorrow's meeting with the next someone of importance. She was as close to their child as either of the two, a fact she pointed out, "She's already doing most of that. And they get along really well together."

"And do you really want our child's best friend and tutor during their formative years to be a sarcastic car stereo?"

"I heard that, Ma'am. How short would you like your sheets?"

"Point taken..."

"Very short, yes Ma'am!"

"But pre-pre? Couldn't we wait until it's only pre? Another year, maybe two. And before you know it, it will be the first day of regular school and then he'll be walking there by himself and..."

"We'll never get that time back," Erika admitted with a sigh. "I know. But I've got more than him and you and me to think about. And you do too. How about we take a look around;" The easy truth was that teacher was one of the most popular professions by the numbers across the entire multi-billion span of the Republic. Class sizes were extraordinarily low and it was more than likely that several of their neighbors - even in the relatively high-income neighborhood of Botany Bay - were either full or part-time teachers with a small class in their house or at the small commercial center tucked away up the street. "And see if we find someone we like, take him in and see if they bond, and then try it one day a week? If he takes off, we can..."

"Take things slowly," Demi interrupted. "And carefully. Slowly and carefully..."

[Sunset]

SDF-Ojeni, Edge of the GEC-1342163 Star System, Canis Major II Dwarf Galaxy...

"I gotta admit," Lieutenant Commander Ingersol continued to stare at the object that dominated the Ojeni's main bridge display from top left to bottom right, "I did not see that coming. What a twist!"

It was exactly that and in more ways than the not-at-all surprising second act employer betrayal or even the final reveal where the character has been dreaming the whole time. It was also just what the Sensor Officer had predicted; An Expanding Helicoid but on a titanic scale and of sufficient density to regularly interfere with the light from it's orbiting star. At this distance the multi-hundred meter Explorer sat in the translucent eclipse cast by the coil as it slowly spun on its vertical axis, each turn heralding a careful expansion or contraction of its many spars and linkages except for now where at the bottom it was slowly disintegrating. One by one the cross-linked struts were detaching from their adjacent nodes or occasionally carrying them along as one by one they collected themselves into the familiar Hoberman shape of an i'Halalaentariel warship. It was a strangely beautiful dance that had begun as soon as the Ojeni had arrived and the first high-resolution sensor images had come in.

"No communications," Ya said, though his statement was no surprise to anyone. The structure - structures - clearly knew they were there but by the leisurely pace they were operating on their own sense of scale rather than any sense of urgency or dread.

All it took was a little flexibility and one slowly became the other and the beauty of it was pointed out to the scattered officers; Collecting the linkages in any form they liked, the i'Halalaentariel could create stations, ships, and perhaps more with the ability to be both connected and dispersed, resilient in the face of damage but concentrated in their effect.

"No other significant objects in the system," Thomas continued, glancing at his station as the sweep ended with a chirp. "Scattered debris - small asteroids, comets - and a thin nebula at point-eight AU. Probably all that's left of the original system. Hydrogen, oxygen - they don't need an atmosphere."

That was a guess, but likely enough. Statements by the Avatar and since relayed out to all officers with an interest in the powerful extra-galactic visitors seemed to confirm that the i'Halalaentariel were an electronic entity of some kind with their unique appearance being a familiar construct of their former selves. Likely their ships were as solid-state as they were with no particular need for atmospheric systems or even the desire; The Krȃng would find their vessels as hostile to their continued existence as they were hostile to the Krȃng.

"...heaven help us if they somehow ever adapt Sanglanti biology to their own," Kami said aloud, her voice half-whisper. "Makes sense. So here we have an enormous concentration of their great enemy - our Salvation," she added, not only a hint of mockery in her tone as she stood to wander back to the Engineering Station. The Eye was there, sitting on his tall stool, and she put a hand on his leg-shoulder, "They ate everything else, I'm assuming. To make that thing. Is there any trace of the machine that made the machine? I'm wondering why here, unless they happen to have an enormous super-construct within easy reach of every Krȃng gateway this side of our galaxy."

"I think you've got it right on the second, Cap'n. As far as how they made it... Some of the large nodes could be manufacturing units. They'd have to assemble themselves from smaller pieces, but they could extrude the spars and fabricate smaller nodes inside. Unlike the Krȃng, who seem to have a hard-on for PTU-557, they use a wider range of regular and engineered alloys in their construction. It's good stuff - I got a chance to review the battle imagery from Circlet I," he tossed up a side hologram with sensor data laid out over a detailed segment of a i'Halalaentariel sphere as it took and replied with fire of its own, "And just as well-suited to purpose as PTU-557."

"I suppose it can't hurt to ask them to confirm that," she looked over her shoulder. The sphere was just about finished and her intention was to initiate contact as soon as it began to head their way. "My guess? We'll be talking to the Avatar again. The Salvation analogy is cute, but I think someone's circuits are taking it a bit too far..."

A few minutes later she had her answer, though it was not the Avatar as she remembered him that appeared in holographic form on the bridge, this time through proper channels, "I admit, it was easy to find. Perhaps you left too large of a clue."

"To wash the home system of the Krȃng from the universe was a natural choice. Leaving even the possibility of their reemergence here would be foolhardy, as through as our destruction was. It was not a task accomplished in a single rotation of their world; Over many thousands of such the Union grew until we, your Salvation, remain and the Krȃng are gone forevermore," i'Grathenial finished, walking from one side to another with his hands moving as he spoke. "That it is convenient to keep watch over their last vestige in our galaxy is not entirely one of happenstance; That was their first such gateway as well as that which they used to attempt their return. Many hundreds of millions of their kind were slaughtered there, destroyed as they attempted to force our blockade."

"Like shooting fish in a barrel - why? Why did they take that gateway? Surely they had others, as they do in the Milky Way."

"Because we gave them no choice. Do you wish to hear the story, young one? To hear one more step along the path to becoming monsters?"

[Sunset]

Shalbatana Arcology, Sunset Territories, Mars...

"Mark Fourteen Variable Particle Beam Rifle with drop-in HOBD barrel replacement and 30 millimeter HOBD grenades," the anonymous-looking man in the gray cover-all rattled off, reaching into the garbage can to extract the weapon in question and pass it over to the woman standing at a vending machine apparently perusing her choices. She just as quickly tucked it under the trench coat she was wearing to hang from a shoulder strap while he continued, "Grenades are distance-armed - ten meters - and are proximity fused to large concentrations of water."

People, unless the Krȃng happened to be hanging around in a swimming pool. That wouldn't be as large of an improbability as it seemed; She'd spent the last few days chasing down rogues in everything from sewers to day care centers. That last had been a close one, and had required precious planning time that had incidentally given another outpost enough time to bubble up into a full infestation. A small medical supply company, the working theory was that the Krȃng had managed to worm their way into several display models for various baby-in-a-box product lines and activated them. Given time on the dusty shelves to percolate, they had likely hatched just that morning and the whole building had gone dark as wriggling tentacles had ambushed the staff in the restroom stalls or other opportune situation. That put a goodly number of infected along with the means to spread their brood further right on a busy street front. Ivy's assignment was to clear them out and quickly before any could cut and run.

The gray-clad worker opened up a garbage can and pulled out a large bag of trash to toss it back in where the rifle had been. It wasn't a very good disguise; Robots normally did that sort of monotonous labor but it was certainly possible that he was a robot. Perhaps not the most terrible disguise after all; "Unguided - direct fire only. You'll get an improved version in a couple days with a full mobility package. Fins deploy on fusing to slow the projectile and ensure complete disruption."

One of the problems with the HOBD pistol concealed in her chest cavity was range; Even at the weapon's current limited power it could damage her fingers and hand while still being only effective out to a couple dozen meters. Good for a close-range assassination - especially against targets wearing body or light power armor - but in the current set of problem scenarios it meant closing with a target with unknown capabilities and possibility the ability to engage at much further range. Two of the other Anathema agents had been 'killed' by an infected survivalist with a sniper rifle, though the police response had allowed an opportunity to sanitize the location. Adding a larger barrel with more shielding, such as the drop-in modification for the Mark Fourteen, extended the range but make the weapon larger and more obvious. Even then it was only good out to a hundred meters before the field faded away to harmlessness. The tube launched grenades would allow far longer engagement ranges as well as the opportunity to hit targets behind cover and in line-of-effect.

"Line up a good shot and you might be able to take out four or five; The battery is good for six seconds."

"More if I can get them to clump up." It was a good idea - now to find a way to implement it. "Donuts?"

[Sunset]

GEC-786453Ac (Bestek), Alpha/Gamma Border Region...

A long way away from any of the very few settlements that scattered their way across the tolerable regions of the over-sized moon, Meli lay on her stomach just back from the crest of a high hill, half hidden by long Terran grasses that grew well in the native soil and holding a squared-off pair of binoculars to her eyes as she swept the far distance. Particularly she was focused on a particular road junction - a dirty path beaten through the same tall grass - and a wooden post that marked nothing in particular other than the junction itself. It was the only road between one town and the next and, with a lack of traffic that bordered on abandonment, would serve as both the perfect place and excuse for a clandestine rendezvous. It was not she that would be doing the meeting but rather the one she was watching for and their previously arranged off-world visitor. Out this far there would be no one to see them either arrive or depart and no reason for anyone to remark on the short deviation in their trip from one town to another.

"While I appreciate the opportunity, I wonder why you insist on inviting me along to these things. One would think that as soon as opportune, you would have returned me to your Republic for either interrogation or accommodation..."

"Because yer good company," Meli answered, without turning to look at the similarly short figure who stood just a half-dozen steps back.

ScLappi was leaning against a tree, and unlike the Dwarf who was dressed in her usual tactical vest and tight pants with a densely woven braid trailing down her back, he was wearing an impeccably tailored wool suit that flattered his rather less rotund new body. His hands were in his pockets and he wore a comfortable-looking brown slouch hat and there was an ant just crawling down his lapel from where it had made the half-leap from bark to shoulder. It was nearly as large as his fist but he didn't seem particularly concerned by it, and it by him, but instead it sniffed around with long antenna for something to report back on before running down his body and trailing off into the grass where it disappeared.

"I will take that as the complement it was intended as," he replied before falling silent once again. The view was magnificent - and not simply Meli's backside as she lay in the grass - and the weather pleasant and he tipped his head down so that his face was in shade while the light from the sun and reflected off the titanic gas giant the moon orbited warmed his frame.

A few minutes later and exactly the sign she hoped to see rose in the distance; A thin trail of dust slowly moving towards them as a boxy hover truck slid down the road, the cab filled with a half-dozen men in clothing that could be broadly described as cultural while a pile of cargo crates were tied into the bed, broad straps flapping in the self-created breeze. It was another few minutes before they reached the turn-off, the first distance enhanced by the lack of traffic and the high-powered binoculars that followed them as they made the turn and then proceeded to where a pair of broad trees sprouted just beside the rapidly dwindling trail. Once upon a time there had been a building there, just beyond the two, but it had burned to scattered poles at some point and was now nothing more than a convenient though reasonably hidden landmark. One by one, the men piled out and revealed that they had been carrying weapons of various stripes concealed under seat and jacket and two out of three swept their way around the place while the other two stood by the truck looking particularly bored and in charge. After a few more spent checking for non-existent dangers, they returned with one jabbering wordlessly to the pair before they hefted their rifles with a shrug and walked the few steps to the burnt-out foundation.

It had been an easy trick; Jero Heron's contact had been a slave to one of the people that the group below regularly made contact with and they had made the mistake of regularly using the same dead-drop. It was easy to assume that the place was safe given the previous conditions but the slave had been observant and it had been a simple matter to place a message in the proscribed location sending them to the regular meeting point on the appointed day and hour. One of the two kicked unseen at the scattered dirt and ashes, looking for the container that would be in the same place that it always was. According to the readings she'd gathered earlier, the cell was gathering the materials for a particularly dirty breed of fission weapon which they would then likely pass to another cell and perhaps then to another and another. Meli didn't care about them; Her goal was the next step up the chain and whoever was supplying them with the material. Their elimination was simply useful.

She checked her clock and rolled over, tipping the binoculars skyward and scanning for any trace of the arranged visitor. Out this far, there would be no particular reason for the planet's tenuous orbital control to respond - even if they managed to pick it up before it arrived, "Thar she is..."

The meeting here, on this spot, had been arranged nearly a week ago when her scout ship had arrived in the system. Lurking around the very edge she'd located a suitable utensil and thrown a blanket of spectrum-absorbing nanites over it. Until it had entered the atmosphere, it had been nearly invisible and now the meteorite and former asteroid plunged un-noted towards the rendezvous. If she had wanted, she could have called out a warning, watched them look around for the threat, but instead she swung her binoculars back around just as the blazing arc of the fireball streaked down towards them and plowed directly into their very midst. With a blast that rocked the nearby hills and snapped the nearest trees off at the base it exploded, tossing a huge gout of earth skyward as well as the six, one of who pinwheeled directly towards the two end-over-end as she followed his ballistic trajectory.

"Well, looks lahk I owe someone an apology. Tha' worked better than Ah expected!"

"Who? Newton?"

[Sunset]

The North Shore, GEC-1042091C...

"So where's this treasure," Timmons asked, traipsing along beside Deania through the still-cool morning sand while Annya played, perhaps too stereo-typically, in the edge of the incoming surf. "Under a pair of crossed palm trees? At the base of a large bluff that happens to look like a skull when viewed from the right angle? Or is there a treasure map?"

"There is a map," she laughed, taking a swing at him with her own shovel, "But you're erasing it."

He looked around but she pointed down, drawing his attention to the footsteps he was occasionally obliterating with his own. A long line of them, partially mirrored by another returning, stretched out to the curve of the sand and beyond as her path from the night before wound around the beach just shy of the high water mark except here and there where it had been flattened out by a rogue during the tide. There were no particular landmarks associated with it, but the day was pleasant and she seemed to know right where she was going and with the impetus to collect the proper tools and so he reserved any further questions to enjoy the trip. Nearly an hour later - around the time he had inquired as to her missing presence the night before - they came upon a twist that led through a scattering of man-sized rocks that trailed from the greenery in the center of the island all the way down and into the water where the remnants could be seen trailing out into the crystal-clear sea. They formed a natural breakwater and even close to the shore hundreds of fish analogs could be seen hiding here and there as well as darting back and forth as they sought their own meal.

"Any chance that you've served us up a red herring with the farming implements?"

"No - though I didn't check. Too risky last night, not with the tide coming in;" But Annya was more than happy to check now. Plunging into the deeper pools, she drew herself out into a canine arrowhead and paddled from hole to crevice, sending clouds of fish analogs twisting here and there as she hunted for the elusive crystal-blue immortal. No particular announcement followed and while they paused to sit on one of the larger boulders to watch the dog work, Kedo and Alwyra walked on until they had nearly disappeared and Timmons pushed himself to his feet; "Onward!"

When they had finally caught up and their third was no longer drip-dripping wet, they found the two digging in the sand just behind a deceptively tall dune that sent an annoying spray of fine sand cutting through their workspace at just about waist height. Something had embedded itself there and Timmons drew the easy comparison to buried treasure; What was visible had been partially worked with both raised and inlaid precious metals in a startling geometric design. The quick assumption was that it had to come from the Kion warship but a moment's of kneeling study led to a guess otherwise, "Doesn't look like anything I've seen of theirs."

"The Kion?" Deania guessed, filling in the blank, "Yeah, I don't think so either. And this isn't the treasure;" Kedo stood up and planted his shovel in the sand; "Oh?"

"I didn't trip across this last night. We're close though," she pointed further down the beach, "I just hope it isn't under water."

"..," and the silence said it all as they abandoned the dig sit, Kedo only pausing a moment to mark it with a tall stick driven into the sand. With a bit more plod to their steps they followed the Seeker along the last few hundred steps of her back-traced path until they all spotted a particular object breaking the sand and unfortunately the bare forward edge of the surf. Like the previous, it was a solid-looking oval cylinder of unknown length and firmly sunk into the beach. A cap or lid of some kind was visible though, and this held out hope of easy access until the long straps and buckles of some kind of latching system became obvious. These were encrusted with native growth that had latched on to the ready nooks and crannies and by all guesses there were more on the underside at least a full shovel-length below the sand.

"...when in doubt, C4." But the Commander's side comment was in grumbling jest. A hand scanner produced a shaky image and all that was known was that the object was hollow or at least the container for something else. "But these," he pointed to the similar geometric patterns, this time in a more common-looking metal, "Would indicate that whatever is inside is valuable - or was - instead of just machinery of some kind."

"I wonder how long it's been here;" and; "I wouldn't discount that possibility," came at almost the same time, though it was Annya who put her paws in first as she began to dig, "The markings could be a written language and this could be wreckage of some kind. Given the similarity, I'd say its obvious they were made by the same organization and again, not the Kion. Maybe something left over from the previous inhabitants? Not sure if this could survive a drop from orbit though..."

"I'll send a recording back to Doctor Nyangora on the Dragon's Eye," Deania volunteered. "Maybe they'll be able to match it to something and tell us more."

Timmons stuck his shovel in the sand and flung the heavy load away as casually as one might lift a fork, "Good idea. We'll start digging though - the tide is going out, and if we're going to get to these latches, we better do it before its underwater again."

There was enough room for three, and with Annya, Kedo, and Timmons lending shovel and paw the wet sand was flying fast enough to give anyone near the three a mouthful of sand. Stepping back to a safe distance, that put Alwyra and Deania at the outside edge and idle observers until a memory and a thought crossed the second's mind, "This isn't the only spot - we could either go back to the first or find another;" Though the second proved to be a far quicker task than she had anticipated...

[Sunset]

SDF-Ojeni, Edge of the GEC-1342163 Star System, Canis Major II Dwarf Galaxy...

"...your civilization's near-instinctive drive to explore and expand your sphere of knowledge is admirable - and dangerous," i'Grathenial answered. "I would wonder how many horrors best left forgotten you have awoken, how much history best left unwritten you have undertaken to write down. It is all too often that such things - and I say this as an Avatar of Destruction and Carnage - such things are often taken as example rather than warning. So too are such things often sought for the power they will bring rather than the dangers they will portend. That you have seemingly avoided the worst of the possible consequences; Again, admirable, but will we meet again in a hundred years? Or will your civilization have fallen to ash and ruin as so many others?"

"I didn't ask how you had corralled the Krȃng into mass slaughter," Kami pointed out, sitting back in seeming relaxation. So too had the Avatar - hunched down between the four splayed legs, he looked something like a giant luminescent waterstrider though his two smaller fore-arms continued to move as he talked. "And you can tell me just what you like. I'm sure you know enough to keep us out of trouble playing the tourist in the nicer parts of Canis Major II, right?"

"Indeed. Since the War to End Suffering a great number of species and civilizations have emerged and while we do not contact those that do not have some hint of the Krȃng, we know of them. There are also some few from Before who were driven into hiding and have re-emerged. Your interest - I have read your wiki page - are varied and dis-coherent to a species as driven as our own and thus I will ask you for specifics before I share our knowledge. Know that this is no little favor you ask; We are neither Librarians nor Caretakers except that we destroy the monster before it can itself destroy."

With three wishes, she was torn on which one to use first. But something struck her and her decision was made, "Let's expand the offer and enjoy our egalitarian side. I'll ask my own after each of my bridge officers do the same. Then we'll take our leave and make our decision." The Avatar nodded agreement and she turned to her right, "Commander Sloan?"

It was an on-the-spot moment and the willowy young woman hesitated, her pause an opportunity for others to begin considering their request. After a minute of teeth-tapping she decided, "There must be others like us out there - explorers, innovators. Ideally a democracy or representative republic. That's where I'd like to go. Make some new friends."

"You will find precious few of them here," but a hologram of the nearby stars appeared, zooming in on a particular system and noting the coordinates, "Here. One of the few. Realize this carefully - our former home is one of savagery and change. Some might say it started with the Krȃng but water does not boil without a fire; So it is here..."

[Sunset]

Special Projects Research Tower, Landor City, Terra Incognito...

"Its a neat trick," Doctor Tithral stepped up to the virtual whiteboard, the mathematics for the field in question appearing as he drew a fat spindle with an invisible marker. "They've solved a few problems with one design here - the question is whether or not we can make it work too. The big problem is right here," he drew a line across one end of the double-cone and scribbled a wavy line over the formerly smooth curves. "The wobble."

"They've actually done it one better," he went on, the Bajoni pulling up a short video of the i'Halalaentariel sphere collapsing to its minimum volume as a crackling red sphere of energy surrounded it. "This is actually a spindle, though it doesn't look like it until you get really close. More-so they can generate it in any orientation around the ship and change it during faster-than-light travel for steering and sensor usage. Part of it is the Hoberman design - the expanding spheroid - but the largest part is just a superior understanding of the science. There's no wobble here," he pointed to the presumed rear of the sphere, "And they've pinched the field down to a very narrow point that seems to act as a funnel for their sensor systems. We can use the same thing, of course, and it will be easier in a way since our testbed will have a big wobble, but..."

Looking to the man next to him, he stepped back with a nod and Commander Brown looked up from a small virtual console before sliding it away, "We've begun design and construction of NX143, which will be the experimental spaceship we'll be testing and refining this drive technology with. Because of the particularities of the drive field, it will be significantly outside of our regular design aesthetic;" An image flashed up to slowly spin between the two, "Though it still looks pretty sharp, if I can say so myself. You might think of the Quantum FrameShift drive field as something of a super-cavitating torpedo or submarine where the drive creates a null bubble - not close to technically accurate, but it will do - around the ship. The NX143 will ride in the forward part of that spindle," he pointed to the first image created by Doctor Tithral, "While the unstable 'wobble' trails off behind it. Initial work will be conducted by the ship's computer itself as well as a limited engram-imprinted crew of technical experts. Notionally we could use a Eien crew but already there has been some concrete speculation that the Quantum FrameShift drive may interfere with Eien connectivity. That question and potential solutions have been delegated out to another team; It would be interesting if the i'Halalaentariel do not use similar technologies because their drive fields directly conflict with that, though not exactly germane to this presentation."

"Our initial tests will be largely to establish the drive as viable to our particular technology and manufacturing base," the first picked up again. "While the advantages are manifest in terms of both speed and similarity to our existing Space-Warp technology, the big unknown here is the drive's power requirement. NX143 will hopefully mount a sufficient power plant for sustained usage, but that is one thing we haven't been able to establish about i'Halalaentariel ship design - where do they get their power from? By our sensor information, the linking nodes seem to already contain a wide variety of sub-systems from weapons to drive segments that would seemingly preclude the inclusion of power plants. That might suggest these are distributed along the spars - and that is potentially a lot of space devoted to power generation, despite the fragile appearance of the spheres..."

[Sunset]

Graduation Ceremony, Defense Force Training Academy Twenty-Six, Ares, Ares System...

Commander Sheldon stepped into the exact middle of the wide gap between the portable bleachers that stood on each side of the entrance to the campus quad and stopped to look around, a smile on his normally perpetually disappointed face. It was all perfect; The sun was out, there were birds here and there, families from all over the planet and occasionally beyond had turned out to celebrate their particular cadet's graduation, and most of the children (and some of the adults) were standing quietly and respectfully instead of yammering pointlessly and interrupting his perfect day. Everything was so clean and tidy too - because he'd had the entire graduating class on litter patrol until late the night before, picking up everything that even looked like trash. That he'd had the incoming class on littering patrol was just proper reinforcement of the fact that they'd be cleaning up someone else's shit for the rest of their career.

Another solid five minutes of enjoyment - the graduating class was laid out at attention in front of him, split down the middle with their backs to him and the other three arranged in a semi-circle around them facing him and all looking uncomfortably still - and he finally took that step forward to a chorus of inaudible relief. His smile broadened; Wait til he started introducing the commencement speaker! Twenty minutes was just about right and so he'd stretch it to twenty-three on the dot. Then it would be five minutes of encouragement from one of his former victims and he'd turn them loose on the universe. Twenty-seven steps across the cobbles that he'd walked in identical fashion nearly every day for the past fifteen years and he stood beside the podium, Senator Bani standing on the other side. It was appropriate; Her term would end soon - one transition to another.

First a short introduction of the Senator, then a long, steady launch heralded by an uncomfortable joke with a punchline expected to be funny but falling flat. Then he filled the rest of the time with meaningless half-flatteries that kept the Senator smiling and shifting back and forth to keep her feet from going numb. Those who had suffered through his introduction before - there were few parents who attended one of Commander Sheldon's graduation ceremonies twice! - might have a chance of realizing that he was saying exactly the same thing he'd said last year but with the last sentence shifted to the beginning. In a few centuries he'd be back to the first iteration but the torture would then only repeat itself. Finally the moment everyone was waiting for; "...one of this Academy's most recognizable graduates, Senator Bani!"

A clumsy step to the side nearly tangling the two together and it was nearly over. This would normally be where he would step back to take a seat or at least stand a respectful half-step back but instead he stood there, just at her elbow, keeping her centered right on the podium. No reason to encourage her to go on - not after his fantastic introduction!

"...look to your left and to your right. These are the faces of the Republic, each different but all the same. You are who we are, and you bring our values and our diversity to the galaxy!"

With that, his face fell. It was time for his least favorite part of the ceremony; One by one, the cadets would come forward and the Senator would place their new rank on their shoulder while he would announce their first assignment. Most would end up as generic seamen with generic assignments but here and there some especially promising cadet would jump straight from Seaman to G2, G4, or even in the rarest moments straight to Lieutenant. Someone, somewhere, would then have to put their trust in his ability to abuse his cadets until they understood the responsibilities and privileges of leadership to a fine point. The first stepped forward, the Senator took the single silver chevron from the box, and he let out his own sigh of relief. It was always easier when the first bar was set low...

[Sunset]

The North Shore, GEC-1042091C...

"Treasure!"

Glittering jewels poured out into Alwyra's hand as she shook out the contents of the container, followed by a rattle and a slightly more aggressive shake followed by another as finally something followed to slip past her waiting hand and fall to the sand. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn't the sparkling, oddly reflective stones that piled on her fingers and occasionally fell past to where Deania knelt and eagerly snatched them up.

"Neat," but there wasn't much enthusiasm in her tone. She was, after all, a galactic jewel magnate. She knew gems and she had pulled them from the cold earth with her own two hands. Even if they were shiny - these were a sparkling blue that flashed with an occasional odd inner iridescence when the light caught them - that didn't mean they were worth anything. Tyrant Gemstones were worth what they were worth because there was only one place one could get them; Hanson's Kneecap in the Parson's Shoal System.

...At least as far as anyone else knew.

These could well be common diamonds or sapphires; Carbon and aluminum were common throughout the universe while the trans-dimensional remnants of armor forged by beings that dwelt in the heart of a singularity was not. The Seeker seemed excited enough though, and after a brief consideration of the handful she tipped them back into the container, keeping out a single example that she began to examine closely. There was regret that she had left her tools back at the shuttle; Buried treasure was practically an implication of jewels and the oversight was unforgivable. But there were always the old ways and she knelt to compare the gem to the water, which was a standard that had been used for centuries back on old Earth. Turning it over and over, she was less impressed by the moment. It felt artificial and somehow, despite the exceptionally smooth surface, worked. It had facets - four sides with small bevels in a shallow double-pyramid - and so of course it had been cut but there was something about the flash that felt wrong for something that was supposedly forged from heat and pressure.

"What's this?"

She looked down for a moment. The Dub'Akai was turning something over in her hands, a tree-like device that had been in the same container. Whatever plastic it had been made of had degraded from exposure to the seawater and now it looked like the saddest little Christmas tree until Deania held it up and began to fit some of the loose jewels into the open fingers, "It's a holder. A frame?"

She looked at it closer while Alwyra knelt. There was something on the inside of the fingers and she rubbed at it, cracking away a white pile of corrosion to uncover bare silver metal. The beveled corners of the gems would barely touch four of these per set of fingers and, by a quick estimate, there were enough gems to fill the pairs including those that had broken in the case or when it fell to the sand. Turning it around, there was more caking on the root and she put a fingernail to that and revealed a circle of similar contacts.

"It lights up? No..." The Neko held up her crystal to the light, letting the brilliant sun pierce through. There was something inside, revealed by the refraction of the sun. "I've heard of these. Not something you'd find here - Sunset, that is. Data crystals."

Deania took one of her own and, retrieving her hand scanner from a belt pouch, ran it over the crystal, "Which means they contain data. No love though - the scanner can see the matrix, but can't make head or tail of what it contains. I think we'd need to repair this thing," she twirled the tree, "Or re-create it and then build an interpreter and... Something for an Engineer."

"I wonder what they say..."

But wonder wasn't useful in the moment. The closest engineer was aboard the Qasr, and whether he would have the knowledge or skill to access the crystal was another question on top of that. But perhaps there would be a clue as to the contents, and perhaps that clue would come as, "Hey! We've got the first strap off! Come over and help, you two..."

[Sunset]

GEC-786453Ac (Bestek), Alpha/Gamma Border Region...

"What a garbage fire..."

Meli was gathering evidence. While not strictly an investigator - more of a wrecking ball, really - she had picked up some bits here and there and when the assignment called for it she could piece together the odd bit of intelligence. Here she had made her way into the edge of town where she was sniffing around the dilapidated house where the next link in the chain lived. Built from a pair of rusty cargo containers with various pieces of this and that welded on as well as the hind end of a scrapped cargo shuttle that served as a front door, run-down did the place a favor and it was the perhaps accidental home of several stray dogs as well as the apparently absent owner. Not a light had come on nor was there the creak of a door as she'd staked out the residence from the relative comfort of a discarded mattress across the street. Night had fallen and though the shadows hadn't really done anything to spruce up the place, they had given her enough cover to make her way to the investigative standby without raising a stink.

The trash can.

Except that it wasn't a garbage can but instead an old filing cabinet that had both drawers pulled out and turned up on its back so that it could be stuffed full of every kind of horrifying refuse the occupant deemed ill-fit to grace their own grungy living quarters. There didn't seem to be anything resembling trash service - Likely enough, the robot had broken down and no one had bothered to fix it - and debris was spilling out to flow along the edge of one container and the ground until it had hit the corner and the occasional gust had come through to grab it and toss it around the street. That it wasn't the only such mess helped her along; Seedy was a good description for the town in general and she was but one scavenger among several that she'd seen. She was not talking about the mess, however. Sorting through the pile she'd come to the ready conclusion that whoever had made the mess was one messed up creep. There were girlie magazines - actual printed paper - as the filler between assorted drug paraphernalia, disposable food containers, broken bits of this and that, and then fliers and flimsies for various extremist and violent movements. There seemed to be no particular pattern to their life - no creed stood out - except for a propensity towards mindless violence and destruction without cause or service.

"But what do we have here?" Meli brushed aside another magazine featuring the latest indication that the occupant was only able to buy love to uncover a nest of wires and discarded bits of technology. They weren't her thing, but she knew bits of a bomb when she saw one. "Does that mean he's the bomber? Or just passing them through?"

Her bet was on the second; While the materials for the dearly departed had originated here, he was just another step in the chain. But did he know where they came from? It was time to watch and wait...

"But Ah sure as hell ain' doin it!"

[Sunset]

SDF-Ojeni, Edge of the GEC-1342224 Star System, Canis Major II Dwarf Galaxy...

"...entered the Blishi'i Navigation and Interdiction Zone. All vessels entering the zone will await contact by an official representative of the Blishi'i United Space Force for authorization to proceed within the Zone. If the vessel entering the Zone is listed as operating under the jurisdiction of one of the following entities, it is advised to either leave immediately or disable its engines and prepare for Boarding and Capture operations..."

"Thank goodness we're not on the list," Kami noted wryly as she listened to the message from the navigational buoy - along with its seemingly exhaustive list of prohibited entities - repeat for the fifth time. They had picked up the signal as soon as Ojeni had entered the system suggested by the Avatar, and based on both its repetition and the rotation of the most heavily populated planet in the system - as made obvious by the enormous complex of stations, arrays, yards, and satellites in orbit - it was set to repeat what was the local equivalent of every ten minutes. Seventeen to the Captain and crew. "I wonder what's taking them so long..."

"At least they speak i'Halalaentariel," Ya noted. As well as a host of other languages. In fact, the buoy was proving a treasure trove of new language data as it repeated the same message in twenty-three separate languages at the same time. It wouldn't help construct a full translation matrix but the head start it would provide if they did encounter someone or something speaking the various tongues would be invaluable. His worry was that several of the languages also corresponded to variances in the list of prohibited entities which suggested that they and said entity were closely related.

"Not at all a surprise. I'm sure their Salvation has been made clear to everyone they encounter. It's probably something of a trade language..."

"Captain..." That was Ingersol and she turned to the main holosphere in some kind of preternatural instinct as to what came next, "Incoming vessels, three of them. Configurations match those of ships observed in the inner system."

Which meant they had traveled via some form of faster-than-light method to reach their position in the far outer star system while the light and other various electromagnetic radiation had been making its relatively slow way back to the Ojeni. In other circumstances the idea of being jumped by three unknown vessels would have been alarming, but combined with the message from the navigation buoy and the Avatar's suggestion she was willing to give the moment a pause before putting petal to the metal.

"...and they are initiating communications. i'Halalaentariel codex matched, lead ship identifies itself as BUSF Independence, Collision of Faith-Class Cruiser with escorts Erwelor of Oven and Weein in Tham, Question of Righteousness-Class with Paladin Postribr speaking."

"Really? Name and Class? Paladin?"

Lieutenant Ya shrugged, both in tone and in shoulder, "Really. They were quite specific about it. Audio-Visual transmission only, when you're ready."

Which was something the Captain made note of, though for no reason in specific. The i'Halalaentariel had demonstrated both an ease and inclination towards the holographic communications common to the Republic and presumably the Blishi'i would be aware of the same. Either they wouldn't or couldn't engage in the same, or the i'Halalaentariel hadn't made them aware of their ability to engage in that particular method of communication. Whatever the reason, it was immaterial as she rose to her feet. There was time enough for a quick tug at her uniform and she moved to stand next to her command chair, leaning somewhat casually against it in an attempt to look disarmingly casual, "On screen..."

A moment later the screen changed from a view of the three ships now standing idle to just what she had signed up for; An example of a new and unknown species standing in similar circumstances on the command deck of its own vessel. Except that, by her guess, it wasn't the command deck. Instead the slender and somewhat diminutive alien with a distinctive reptilian cast stood in the middle of an open chamber with four others surrounding it, two on either side. All were wearing robes with their hands hidden and much of the Paladin's head covered with a decorated cowl while the other four - of various heights, widths, and species - were bareheaded. Each of the four faced slightly inward, looking towards an object in the center while the wide, black eyes of Paladin Postribr looking past and to her.

"You have entered the Blishi'i Navigation and Interdiction Zone and we do not know you. I am Paladin Postribr and these are my fellows - why have you come?"

"Captain Kamilia Blaine, Sunset Defense Force Starship Ojeni. We were told that this system was home to a civilization sharing similar values to our own and we've come to see if we can make some new friends," though she left the impulse to add an additional comment on the seemingly religious overtones unsaid.

"It does depend on those values;" Was that a trace of humor in its tone, or was she imagining things? "But first we must ascertain - as you are unknown to us - whether either heresy or corruption exists within you. Fellow Tholhou," he looked to his right, and a fluid-looking pale white alien gestured before stepping to one side, "Will come aboard your vessel to ascertain this; If you have knowledge that you contain either, I would warn you to leave immediately and never return. The penalty for the first is destruction and the second inquisition."

"Heresy or corruption? We were told by the i'Halalaentariel that the Blishi'i are a democracy or a republic - heresy and corruption carry the overtones of religion. What sort of either will you be looking for?"

"The i'Halalaentariel?" There was a shift in the Paladin's tone and glances from the remaining three, "Then I would expect that Fellow Tholhou will find none, but we must be sure. You will submit to an inspection of your ship and crew, or you will leave. Make your decision shortly, Captain..."

[Sunset]

Krazy Kitten, Botany Bay, Chuh-Yu...

"So," Demi's fork speared a medallion of Andouille before wrapping it in a spiral of linguini and pausing halfway to ruby red lips, "They named an animal after you. A researcher out on the periphery..."

"Oh? Before I sneak a look; Cute and cuddly or slimy and squiggly?"

"The researcher?" Demi teased, the last bit of cream-colored noodle disappearing between her lips.

The two were seated on either side of a small deck table, a pair of teak chairs under them and an elegant spread of china and silverware laid out on napkins they wouldn't need with a candlestick firmly set into the hole in the middle. Twinkling lights sparkled on the low dancing waves but the flickering candle was the only one to cast shadow between the two. The dinner and setting had been a last thought from Alex before she'd left to take the day off, Nathyn in tow and to be deposited at Demi's parents for the weekend. The sailboat was tied to the dock just a stone's throw from their back door but it would serve as their residence for the night, fresh sheets and a thin blanket laid out in the narrow cabin.

"...the animal."

"Slimy and squiggly - officially E. Silacus. Apparently she's not a fan. The article went into it in some depth; Something-something government contracts involving her father, left her to a life of studying weird looking plants and animals rather than ensconced as the head of some corporate research laboratory."

"That sounds incredibly tangential. How did she latch on to that?"

"Call her," Demi shrugged, "Seems an odd way to get back at someone..."

[Sunset]

SDF-Ojeni, Edge of the GEC-1342224 Star System, Canis Major II Dwarf Galaxy...

"Heresy is a matter of belief," Fellow Notaro began, his tone and manner jovial as he looked around the interior of the ship, looking from new face to new face with an appearance of genuine interest and a gesture Captain Blaine interpreted as a friendly nod of greeting and recognition. "Corruption is a matter of use. Sometimes it is only one or the other but most often both. Either must be confronted and removed at the root, otherwise they will grow again..."

"Seems extreme for a difference between religions, doesn't it?"

"Oh, no," he corrected, finally removing a hand from the depths of his draped black robe to take an apple from a bowl sitting on a table, "May I?" She nodded and he took a bite, "A little sweet for my species, but you should consider gathering what you can of your native seeds - the Paladin will give you a fair price. But no, it is not a matter of religion or illusionary gods or deities long dead - the heresy and corruption we seek is very real."

"What do you mean? If you don't believe in gods or demons or..."

Notaro shook his head, "No - this is a matter of science. This is belief we can investigate, use we can test for. I will explain..."

A knot of crewmen blocked their path and the two wandered between them, finally coming to the door to her personal quarters and she opened the door with an extended hand, the Fellow entering first with the same gesture he had given the crew as he passed, the Captain right behind. Inside they found Commander Sloan waiting, sitting at the desk and a virtual console she closed as she half-rose to greet them in turn, "Kami, Fellow Notaro. Please, have a seat."

The offer was readily accepted and he took a chair between the two, brushing his robes back over his legs. She knew that he was wearing body armor of a type and was armed - lightly - thanks to the scanners in the shuttle bay but that he had come alone was assurance enough that he was not a particular threat - at least not to Ojeni's internal defenses. Rather there was a conscious effort on Notaro's part to appear non-threatening.

A quick introduction from the Captain and he returned to his previous point, "As I was saying, this is a matter of science - and of history. And here is where I will give you fair warning - while you seem to be more familiar with the i'Halalaentariel than most who have encountered that civilization, an association with those who claim the title of 'Salvation' will not always be in your benefit. During their Great War both sides unleashed weapons and technology horrible and monsterous and it is these remnants that we seek as heresy and corruption. A people might hold a weapon created in that forgotten war over the heads of another, while another might worship a vault created in expectation as a god."

"So there are bad technologies in your belief system? Dangerous? There are some civilizations we live near that believe Artificial Intelligences are immoral and wrong, as an example."

"No, and yes. What you must understand is that both sides were particularly insidious and inventive in their hatred for the other. This plague may simply kill its victims - at least initially. Horrible, yes, but when the dead rise again days, weeks, or even years later as biological killing machines..."

"Or even transformed into the Krȃng!"

"Exactly," he acknowledged Sloan's point. "Unintended and unknown consequences. Fortunately we have become adept at finding and uncovering these corruptions and heresies. Where we can, we remove them but as you know the power of both sides was and is incredible - often the only way is through force but it is better that some few die now than many times more when that unknown consequence comes to pass!"

"What about us? Any heresy detected?"

"No," and he did something that might well be mistaken for laughter, gills on the side of his neck flaring out in a burst of color. "No, though I would like to speak to your Apothecary and your Minister, if you have such things. Both tales of religious lore and bizarre stories of medicine have led us to both in the past. Presuming you do not reveal yourselves to be tinkering with unknown viruses or pathogenic bacteria in an attempt to gain some advantage over your enemies, I will recommend to the Paladin that you be cleared to enjoy our facilities and engage in trade and exchange with the Blishi'i United Federation..."

[Sunset]

SDF-CORE III, CORE-Class Deep Space Station, Somewhere in the Alpha Quadrant...

"Unconfirmed Intelligence?"

"That's right," the Admiral nodded, standing as firm as a post just next to the Captain's position. There was a Captain, of course. They had the responsibility to keep the enormous station going about its day-to-day activities while the Admiral - who had once been the Captain and had elected to keep the station as his personal 'flagship' when he was promoted - went about the higher-level work of... Well, reading intelligence reports and twiddling his thumbs. Sometimes he thought the new Captain was too good at the job and left him nothing to do. It was like retirement - but worse. "Unconfirmed intelligence."

"So you - Fleet, I'm guessing - wants everything spun up to full readiness on nothing more than unconfirmed intelligence? No TRIPWIRE data, nothing from Intelligence, not even a sizable hunch from one of those Anathema goons?"

The Captain wasn't exactly a fan of Anathema and neither had been the Admiral before him, despite the fact that CORE III was the official-unofficial headquarters of the off-the-books agency. They had been especially busy for the past few weeks coming and going in their civilian vessels, scout ships, and stolen military warships. Unless they weren't stolen; All he knew and was supposed to care about was that they had the recognition codes that would allow them to escape immediate vaporization when they arrived locally to the well-hidden station.

"Nothing to do with the Krȃng, or the Circlets. At least they're not mentioning that in the reports. It's all 'Unconfirmed Intelligence' and straight from Grand Admiral Erriki's desk. It even has her signature on it."

"All of it? If it came from that high up... NEMESIS, the assault wings..." He tried to think of more but there were compartments he was unaware of so he took a stab at it, "All of the other super-weapons and last line defenses and;" The Admiral nodded again, "So we're going to push everything to full readiness to counter an absolute unknown? Does she realize what's going to happen? We're going to full, that will push the Triumvirate to full on the off-chance, which will push our other allies to full, and our friends, and then our... Well, whatever you want to call the Roanians. And our actual enemies. That's going to push the risk of an incident really close to the edge. A self-fulfilling prophecy..."

The Admiral shrugged, a tiny movement against his still-stiff pose, "And if we don't? Clearly the Grand Admiral, and likely the Secretary-General, have cause to believe that there's something worth taking that risk for."

"It's uncharacteristic, is what it is. They didn't order this during the battle between the i'Halalaentariel and the Krȃng inside Circlet I's orbit."

That was more ready-to-be-ready, which was close but not quite as close to Armageddon as full readiness. A moment's notice and everything from the station's own strategic planet-killers to vast clouds of black death to a bunch of Easy-Bake Ovens would be launched at... Something.

"Which means we keep a sharp eye out and wait for the stand-down order. Whatever it is, Carl... The report suggests it will happen inside of forty-six hours..."