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

[Sunset]

Ambrosia, Anuke...

"Get back here..."

There was a certain something about this last batch of rats and with the Doctor away on far Rudan, there was no one for Miss Seventeen to ask as to what that something might be. Agent Sixteen had left with the Doctor and the remaining Minions were effectively worthless if it didn't need to be killed, blown up, or torn apart. With their incompetence firmly established over the course of several excruciating conversations, she had fallen back on the protocol that had been left for her to follow.

"Come on!" She hit the 'pulse' button on the blender again, sending the whole crowd of rats scurrying for the far corner of the cage, "It can't hurt that much and you're stupid rats!"

A hand chased a knot of long pink tails around the cage and she singled one out, pursuing it as the rat fled towards the safety of a pile of shavings. The sleek brown rodent dived in and her fingers narrowly missed as she thrust them in after it. Swirling her hand through the pile, she made a final frantic try to grab the critter but was rewarded with the unexpected; With a quick burst of speed, the rat was racing up her sleeve and she jumped back with a shriek.

"Get out! Get!" She clutched at her arm, trying to block the fleeing rat, but it slipped through and right across her chest and into the wide gap of her cleavage. "What are you..."

She twisted and there was a plop as the rat dropped to the floor and raced for the gap under the workbench. It dodged a stomp and then it was gone. A stream of curses followed it as Miss Seventeen tossed her head back and stared at the ceiling. One deep breath, then two, and she looked back at the floor. It was gone without a trace and she let out a long sigh.

"Nothing I can do about it now. Back to the protocol. Focus on the..."

She stopped.

Her eyes had drifted back to the cage only to find it empty. A thick pile of shavings had been pushed up against the far wall and undoubtedly the prisoners had surged over the wall in a brown tide of wavy hair, long lashes, and perky breasts.

"Shit."

[Sunset]

Special Projects Laboratory, Terra Incognito, Landor City...

"So what's this stuff?" Katryna dipped her finger, then her whole hand into the open container that was sitting out on the workbench. "Looks neat."

The liquid that rolled over her hand and clung together to drip back down into the vessel might almost be mistaken for mercury, except for the color. Instead of pure silver it was an opalescent blue with the same shifting plate and gradient patterns as those rare minerals. It formed thick ribbons as it sloughed off and she scooped up another handful to pour it in while watching the light from the huge windows that looked out over the sea play off it in shining magnificence. There were more samples all along the counter in colors and patterns that ranged from simple two-tones to the entire rainbow and streaked with the chatoyancy more typical of a cat's eye stone.

"This," one of the researchers leaned past her and took a couple fingertip's worth to rub it between them and his thumb, "Is possibly your next baby. At least for those of us with a computronium soul."

She continued to play with it and he went on; "It's liquid computronium."

Computronium was short-hand for 'computing material' and, like the samples on the counter, it covered a wide number of sub-types. Brain matter, for one, as well as the more advanced nerve cells. Silicon-based integrated circuits for another. In the modern era it was a manufactured substance that could be bought, cut, and shaped into the specific dimensions needed and then connected directly to a bus that would allow it to form the computing heart of an electronic device. The computronium in Katryna's body was fairly advanced; Capable of learning and evolution of a sort, it was nearly biological in its function.

"Huh, cool."

"Very. We've come up with a bunch of different formulas for anything from general use to II Cores;" The same material from which her own sentience sprang, "And specialty versions all along the power curve. It's pretty nifty stuff. When it flows," He tipped a handful into the container slowly, "The active volume destabilizes into the complex molecules that make up the whole. When its stable, or even part is stable, they self-organize into the crystal patterns that make it look like an opal. The more powerful the liquid, the more complex the patterns. It was developed to deal with the problem of the brain."

He went over to a cabinet and pulled out a flat unit, about the size of a coffee table picture book, and laid it on the counter.

"Let's say... Rat."

The controls sped by as he thought his way through them and then there was a rat as well as a side list of specifications. A moment later and the unit opened up to start the process of building a rat out of the stored materials. It was a fake rat - polymer-voltaic bones, myomers, synthetic keratin, and all the other components of a normal rat built out of artificial materials. The most important element was the head and the tiny brain that was carved out of a larger block of computronium as they watched.

"And this is the problem that was created to solve. Not every animal that we needed to be able to replicate has the same broad physiology; They could be an eyeball on a stick, or a jellyfish, or whatever. Something that can't have a single solid block of computronium. This liquid solves that problem and opens up a host of new applications as well. You, for instance, could integrate some of it into your existing matrix and then if you ever get blown up, just put the liquid back together and connect the bus and we'll have you back."

"But would that really be me? Or just something that thinks it's me?"

"Right now? Thinks it's you. But we've got a team working on a sub-set that retains as much of its previous condition as possible, even through traumatic separation. Put it back together and the hope is that, even if the puzzle pieces are in the wrong place, it will move things around until they are in their proper order."

"Huh. So if I wanted to have a baby, in the meatsack sense, I could integrate a bunch of this stuff and then pinch some off and culture it?"

She was a product - or at least her brain was - of something similar but less complex. Her mother had literally carved a small chunk of her own core off and cultured it to the point of sentience. While it meant that she was literally her mother's daughter, her mother had also given up a bit of herself (since replaced) to have her. The possibilities for this liquid computronium were, if the next step was successful, far more similar to biological life.

[Sunset]

SDF-Ojeni, Capuchin Debris Belt...

A beam of energy sparkled past, flying through the space where the starship had been just a monent before and as if she was making a lazy attempt to dodge, the Ojeni slid sideways into the now-empty space as another pair of blasts spiked through. One sailed wide to crackle against a drifting piece of debris in the tangled mass that provided backdrop to their battle while the second scored a glancing hit across the forward armor of the hull. A long line of carbon black joined a dozen others; The scars of a fight that had gone on for nearly an hour.

It was not a question of the killing blow. At nearly four times the beam, the sleek Explorer mounted many times the firepower of the fleeing raider. It fought back with tooth and claw but it was also a fight against the debris field. Shattered splinters of the massive construction spiralled and twisted and the steep gravity sheer of the Ojeni's drives sent a wide wake of smaller wreckage scattering out around it. These had already nudged a few large pieces into action and in the far distance long curved slabs that had drifted undisturbed for eons now ground together.

The danger of the chaotic jumble was only emphasized as the pair rounded a sharp blind corner. Narrowly in the lead, the smaller craft zipped up and over a twisted mass in a close bit of piloting that might have left its own scar. This left it square in the cruiser's path and a trio of the heavy particle cannon mounted around the forward hull roared. The destruction was impressive but it had only created more and the scattered streaks from the point-defense batteries struggled to reduce it to dust before they plowed through. More scars joined those already criss-crossing the hull and for a moment she paused as though reconsidering the pursuit.

'How far can they run,' Kami wondered, her own thoughts mirroring the ship's hesitation.

When the chase had begun, she had hoped it would only be a matter of minutes before the tiny corvette would have tried to go to ground and whatever base they were operating out of would have been revealed. That had proved a narrow dream; The debris field was riddled with places to both run and hide and there had been a dozen moments where she had worried that they might find themselves facing a half-dozen new opponents. Each corner, each minute, and every fuzzy sensor return was another chance for either the ship to escape, to delay her hunter long enough to rally reinforcements, or to simply slam into whatever wall presented itself hard enough to make an interogation of the crew post mortum.

Her hope was that they would surrender.

Broad similarities between the raider and the rest of the debris field suggested a shared origin. The possibility was strong that the craft had been constructed out of salvaged materials but there was the slimmer possibility that they were survivors of whatever event had torn the massive construction apart. They still didn't know what it was; Every second they flew past enough debris to build one of the Defense Forces titanic Singularity-Class Stations. Where they had gotten the materials was an easy guess - there were no planets left in the system and even any asteroid belt or long-orbiting comets had been consumed in the effort. Was it a habitat? A ship?

A blaze of fire and once again the Explorer responded with its lighter weapons. Missiles swarmed back towards it in a twisting cloud and detonated one-by-one as the automatic fire-control identified them as a proximity threat and eliminated them. None slipped past but several sailed on into the darkness - tiny comets that plowed into something here and there to explode in momentary fireballs.

It was the fatal moment for the smaller ship, however. To line up the shot it had strayed still long enough for the larger pursuer to take the finely targeted shot it wanted. A single shot from the heaviest batteries sheared into the star-shaped mass of drives on the cresent-shaped rear and they went dark. Now the game changed; Instead of trying to kill their target the crew of the Ojeni scrambled to keep it alive.

In the machine-enhanced realm of the battlespace, they watched as it ever-so-slowly arrowed towards an enormous wall of construction material. A line was laid out, plain as day, that showed the peril that it would be under if it did not stop of its own devices. There were no tractor beams; Instead the weakest force of all began to slow the ship as a gravity well projected by the explorer appeared behind it and followed along.

Drifting high and to the side, the cruiser fired again but this time it was as backup. A trio of the heavy particle cannon punched a ragged hole in the far plate. Again and again they fired until the computer said the smaller ship would sail through but it was not to be. Whether by intent or accident, as the raider came close it fired a final burst from its manuvering thrusters and, slowed by the gravity well, it slid into the torn edge to catch itself like a pinned moth.

Intent was established as a hatch opened and a few small figures leapt away into the tangle that was the inner surface of the plate. A warren of breached compartments, ducts, and cabling was revealed as the spotlights on the Ojeni followed them but it was an unplanned-for escape and in a minute they were silently floating as the last figure disappeared into darkness.

[Sunset]

SDF-Ojeni, Capuchin Debris Belt...

One by one, a dozen small shapes detached themselves from the curved hull of the looming cruiser to make the long jump between the Explorer and the unexplored. Most went one way and a few the other and as soon as the last of the stocky armor suits were away the thrusters that had brought it close fired again and the Ojeni slid away to disappear against the backdrop of the enormous debris field that slowly circled the hot blue star at its core. The majority headed for the plate itself where, presumably, the crew of the raider had fled into hiding.

The other three were destined for the open hatch of the small ship and as soon as their boots touched the deck they moved into a standard assault formation. One ahead and two behind, they breached the airlock with their rifle barrels before moving in rapidly behind them as the cameras and sensors mounted on the nose of the weapon indicated that space, at least, was clear. It was not only clear but wide-open; The hatch on the other side yawned as well and a ring of warning lights showed a brilliant orange. If there was any atmosphere left in the craft, it was much deeper and behind a sealed door.

'Looks like they were in a hurry, Captain,' the third Marine called back as his two subordinates continued to leapfrog ahead without the distraction of keeping their commander informed. He followed behind at a measured pace as they rocketed from cover to cover with the thick barrels of their weapons forming a blunt spear to their rapid advance. 'Or they have a hell of an ambush set up.'

In an evacuated ship, some might count on an attacker being forced to resort to EVA gear in order to secure the vessel but these were fully environmental oowered armor suits. The GhostDragon could operate in anything from a full vacuum to deep underwater or even, as some Marines had boasted, in a lava trench under acid skies. True or not, it was also possible and more probable that the crew had simply fled. Still, scuttling charges or booby traps were a possibility and the three kept a sharp eye open for either.

For the seasoned Lieutenant in the rear, his weapon was as good as a hand as he poked it into cabinets and half-closed hatchways to check their contents as the two Ensigns ahead rushed to clear. Or at least it looked like a rush; All three were there-and-not-there. Back on the ship, their bodies lay comatose as a copy of their engram - the concious and unconscious memories and experiences that made them them - piloted a purely mechanical and electronic suit through the ship's interior. If they returned the memories would be appended to those of the sleeping Marine and it would be as though she had been there in person. If not then it was a good nap and an excuse to skip the mission debriefing.

'Nothing on the language recognition,' Glowing outlines appeared over his vision as he looked around; Pattern recognition software was analyzing what the suit saw and picking out the characters that were printed, stencilled, or molded into various surfaces and building up a dataset that would form the basis of a written translation. 'Something weird about them, but I can't put my finger on it.'

To Captain Blaine, who was watching from the comfort of the Ojeni's bridge, the interior looked as common as that of a hundred other ships of all shapes and sizes that she'd seen and served on. This was, however, a point at which experience and proximity mattered. What the Lieutenant could touch and hold gave him more insight than any she could gain through the far end of a remote feed. That he was an ArAreBee and thus the dictionary definition of weird.

In a few more minutes the sweep was over and the ship declared clear. As the prize crew of NEENJA engineers and technicians went across to secure the abandoned raider, the task of establishing the basis for the Lieutenant's weird feeling fell to the Marines pursuing the fleeing crew through the warren of compartments and conduits under the thin skin of the enormous tumbling plate.

[Sunset]

SDF-Dogana,GEC-2995C (Akahshi) Orbit, The Periphery...

As had been mentioned elsewhere, the Dogana was a warship. Packed with a careful mix of weapons and ordinance, shrouded in meters of armor equivalent to hundreds of meters of ordinary steel, and crewed by a small, tightly organized crew of highly trained officers, she was a pinnacle of heavy cruiser-level starship design and manufacture.

What she was not was a science lab.

Which meant that the scanner pointed at the container which held the sample retrieved by the creative Marine was not under the gaze of a highly accurate research-grade scope such as those made in the Akashan Union or the Kajali Federation and routinely carried aboard SDF Explorers for this very purpose. In fact, the scanner pointed at the box was more suited to the purpose than those sophisticated systems even though it was 'only' a Scolopendran manufactured Technical Imaging and Diagnostic Probe normally used for tracking down damaged and faulty components in power and information distribution networks. Nerds being nerds, it had been jury-rigged to function in ways for which it was never intended - but somehow did not void the expansive warranty provided for under the Segments expansive consumer protection laws - and results were now being displayed on the bank of monitors across the back of the improvised research space.

That said, the sample itself was not in the bay. Not only would it have been reckless to bring an unknown infectious agent aboard an enclosed spaceship, but the container likely wouldn't have survived the trip. Whatever it was, it had already damaged the substance of the unit to such an extent that it was not a matter of safely opening it but instead just waiting for it to fall apart. An inflatable emergency shelter had been erected at the far end of the crash scar and it was here, protected by a half-dozen Marines and the sheltering bulk of a Jade-Class Assault Shuttle, that the examination was being undertaken.

"It's a micrite swarm," the technician declared and her judgement was immediately confirmed by a half-dozen other pairs of eyes or similar sensory organs. "Not a fungus."

If there had been a biologist in the room, they would have been disappointed but the engineers were excited. Micrites were robots and robots they understood. Remotely manipulating the probe, they zoomed in on a single unit and various measurements began to appear around it as they followed its movements. All of the constructs were identical and each was shaped something like a bug or insect with a large central shell and two smaller segments tucked into each end. One end held a manipulator - a very basic three-fingered claw - and the other a multi-pronged interface that was constantly swapping between the other nearby units as they moved around.

"They are deconstructing their environment," one observed; "But they are not building more," stated another as he searched the larger mass for signs of reproductive activity. "The wrong materials?"

"I'd call it an escape attempt," Admiral Falk, observing from the back of the room, commented dryly. "What about the leg? Are they eating it?"

A monitor swirled and focused and the pink flesh came into view. The micrites had clearly been busy here as well, boring into the flesh and establishing a colony that spread both across the surface and visibly - at least at the fine detail level of the scanner - underneath it. One detail feature of the infestation became clear; A branch-like pattern that spread out from a single borehole that acted as the primary anchor point as well as entrance to whatever sub-surface colony had been established.

"What's under there?"

A hologram culled from the medical databases appeared and a hasty overlay was created to show the simplified formation.

"Sciatic nerve. So... it's plugging into the nervous system?"

"Can we get a comparison of the other subjects," Falk ordered, "With the nervous system traced out?"

A few seconds later and the old image of the various observed victims of the infestation, including the headless corpse of her daughter, appeared with the human nervous system traced out on top and that was a clincher; All the sites were near or on top of major nerve bundles or junctions.

"And that's how they are walking around. But what are they?"

"They are too big, that's what they are," another engineer piped up. "Way too big. For a micrite, they are about twenty times as large as they need to be - presuming state-of-the-art - to do what they are doing. That middle section alone could house a full micro-fabricator that would allow them to tear down that box and make more. But they aren't."

A splash of holograms began to show three-dimensional diagrams of existing medical micrites with their primary functions merged into the dimensions of the unit crawling around on the monitors.

"So, either they are very primitive, or they have some kind of payload or cargo or... I dunno. Your guess is as good as mine, at least until we take one apart."

"Payload?" She looked to the Marine Commander who had been lounging around in one corner on a stack of discarded crates, "Do you have a kill plan in place?"

"Ho yeah. Just heat them up. Micro-machines don't deal with heat very well at all. Melts em like crayons."

"Alright. Take one apart then, let's fine out what's inside."

[Sunset]

The Counting Crow, Outside the Slave Market, Lethon, The Fringe...

"Doesn't that hurt?" Ivy asked as she watched the Dwarf trim away the remains of her right hand with a knife deftly wielded in her left. "Actually, why don't you just bite it off?"

She knew why it didn't hurt, but something in her heart said she should be somehow sorry for the injured Dwarf. Meli had likely turned her pain threshold up for the duration of her blood-soaked rampage through Captain Graycock's pirate crew - up to the point where the loss of a hand to some kind of projectile weapon and a dozen more cuts, stab wounds, and broken bones had been ignored as inconsequential. When she'd appeared in the hatchway of Ivy's ship, the Counting Crow, the operative had worried that most of the blood might be hers. When she'd shaken like a dog to discard most of it Ivy had worried less until she'd seen the hand.

But only a little; Thus the dig about Meli's animalistic rampage.

"Cause biting through whatever alloy this is would chip ma teeth," she held up the remains of a finger to show the glint of metal beneath the gristle of meat and tissue. "Plus Ahl need a clean surface to bond the replacement."

"Eww."

"Yah, well, that's wha Ahm here instead of there," she flicked the knife at the floor, splattering a line of droplets across the already-stained deck. "That ahn the hindbrain. Had to go all fuckin' neenja after that guy got his lucky shot. I'm getting old or somethin'. How's Graycock?"

Ivy grinned, a broad slash of white across her dark features, "Not very talkative."

In fact, he couldn't have talked even if he'd wanted to. The lone occupant of the micro-surgical suite built into an alcove of the ship's common area, he was completely unconscious while the robotic arms buzzed around his head performing an unknown procedure. Stripped naked in her careful search for any hidden weapons, Ivy had left him with nithing but a hand towel to preserve his dignity. Or perhaps hers; The infection that had earned him the nickname was known for turning malignant.

"I'm going to simplify the interrogation. Plug in a DNI;" Direct Neural Interface - the devices were ubiquitous in Republic-space but much less-so beyond, "And we'll wake him up in a nice bar surrounded by his buddies. A little chat with a mysterious robed figure in the corner and we'll know how extensive his contact with the Sessool is."

It wasn't exactly Kosher - kidnapping someone and then implanting a medical device for the purposes of an uninformed interrogation was a violation of at least three laws - but Ivy was neither a saint nor in Sunset. Either way, the laws of the Republic only applied to Anathema agents as much as they wished to obey them and where there was anyone to prosecute them. Since DoJ inspectors were few and far between on the Fringe, it was unlikely she would suffer more than a twinge of disgust at being forced to view the source of the notorious pirate's appellation.

"Ahn then Ah kin have that thing put on a new hand!"

"I don't think we have Augmented Dwarf in stock..."

"Nah!" Meli started to reach behind her, suddenly realized she didn't have a hand there, sighed, and then switched to the other to unsling a leather satchel and dump the contents on the table. "Ahm thinkin' this baby!"

An arm - likely from the shoulder down, though the plated insect-like appearance made it a less-than-concrete possibility - tumbled out across the table and through a few holograms that Ivy had been looking over when she'd arrived. There was also a jumble of odds and ends and she pushed these aside with her stump before putting the limb front and center.

"Impressive, ahn it? Nice sharp talons, lots o' spikes.'

"And not even close to meta," Ivy pointed out, using the slang term for any Human-derived species.

"It'll work," the Dwarf declared decisively. "Ahm pretty sure o' it. She had tits! Not quite up tah mine, but they were there! Prolly still are. Ah shoved her through another guy ahn this just popped raht off. Cute little lass too. Another time ahn place, yah know?"

"Or you could have not killed her," the agent suggested.

"Pfft!" Meli paused to consider for a moment, her brow furled. "She could have survived, Ah guess. Ahl go check later. But she's a bug. Was. Probably a few billion of her out there."

[Sunset]

Senator Thang's Estate, N'Xypndiltn, E'Xypndiltn System...

"I want this place completely clean!" the woman in the middle ordered, her voice rising to a near-screech. "And not just these lot either! No supervising; I want everyone on their knees like a working girl until they get here."

A bony finger sunk into the younger man's side and he winced.

"Especially you! All you do is stand there glowering like it will make these idiots work faster!"

"Mmph, okay..."

"Don't you 'okay' me! You've been watching too much of the shit they call TV!" She poked him again and Tradia nearly giggled, "'Yes, Mother,'" she prompted.

The reply was more grumble than verbal, "Yes, Mother..."

"Little shit. Now, all of you!" Her voice rose again and she clapped her hands for attention before pointing at a spray of leaves and debris that had drifted across the small courtyard, "Get that picked up. When the Triads get here... Do any of you own anything but rags? They're going to laugh at you! Do I pay you?"

Most of the guards just looked at her but a couple nodded and one, the youngest of the lot, stooped and began scuttling around to pick up the mess. This sent him moving closer to where Tradia still lurked invisible against the wall.

"Then go buy some new clothes! You look like fucking slobs..."

A last glare and she turned to walk back inside, leaving her husband and son and the guards to slowly exhale their aggravation. Two of the more sharp-edged sort turned to mutter between themselves and the two remaining family members looked around uncomfortably. It was clear, in Tradia's estimation, that the old woman was in charge but only due to force of personality. For only a moment she leaned out to watch the retreating back and there was a crunch as her foot shifted and a leaf disintegrated.

A dozen eyes turned to her hiding place and she froze, the optical camouflage stabilizing to render the illusion complete. One of the guards stepped closer, looking carefully into the shadows and right through the nervous Xypndi. There was another crackle and her eyes followed the sound to where the youngest guard, a boy barely out of his teens, shifted his foot to reveal another leaf. That was the signal for everything to return to normal and the guards shrugged to return to their shadowy discussion while the father and son made the gestures of ordering them around before going back inside. In less than a minute the only complication was the ungainly movements of the youngest as he finished the job forced on him by seniority. Another few moments and she was out the way she came in.

The last layer of security behind her, she finally allowed herself a long breath. It was time to digest and she began to talk aloud to herself as she walked, "The Triads... What are the Triads?"

She'd heard the name, yes, and seen the representations on television. But television wasn't reality, and it sounded like the Triads were about to become part of her reality so it was time to learn something about them.

"But... Who's an expert on the Triads?"

[Sunset]

Defense Forces Training Facility Forty-Seven (AndersonVille), Terra Incognito...

A zig and a zag and the crackle of energy weapons chased the sleek motorcycle down the street and around the corner at a dizzying speed. Ground vehicles from older wheeled cars and trucks to more modern hovercars and grav-cars were both obstacle and cover as it weaved in and out of traffic. Startled drivers pulled to the side, stopped in place, or just kept going until they plowed into something larger than themselves only added to the confusion. Barely a half-second after it passed came two more, then three, and then the streets were calm again to leave only holes in the pavement as the chaos surged up the streets and hills towards the downtown district. Here and there a driver stepped out only to crackle and sparkle away as the needs of the simulation passed beyond those particular holographic projectors.

For the moment the pursuit was mostly two-dimensional; The city streets a crazy grid for the fox and the hounds to run free on. That all came to an end as a sudden dead-end dropped away in front of the lead biker. A moment's pause - long enough for two more shots to snap past and gouge the concrete of a building's facade - and she gunned the engine to send her machine plowing through the yellow-striped barrier, up and over the curb, and out into open space. Twisting in her seat, she swung to look behind her just as two pursuers tried the same stunt only to smoothly arc through the air to suitably fiery results. What had been wheels were now not and the swing arms that held them rotated and swung up to latch into position as the bike slid and swerved through the air. Not all of her pursuers were similarly tied to the earth, however, and while most were forced to detour onto the surface streets others joined her.

Now they were zipping between the supports and columns of both buildings and highways while struggling to both maintain sight of their quarry and to avoid the obstacles that loomed out of nowhere. She swerved left, one went right, and an inch of clearance proved an inch too small as the bike caught to throw its rider to the hard ground. Not her victory but she celebrated none the less, tipping over to flip her bike tail-over-front and duck into an enormous open pipe. Risk and reward followed with a breath-taking charge through a forest of hanging steel rods that left one of her pursuers grotesquely impaled and a small pile-up outside as only the bravest continued the chase. Now it was one and two and a glance in her mirror said it was time to turn the tables. The open end of the tunnel spread wide, she raced through, and her arms flew wide with the heavy carbines that made up the handlebars of the bike in each hand.

Metal twisted and slid around her as she flew forward and before she hit the ground she was wearing armor instead. A blast from the lead pursuer scorched by her helmet and she threw her body into a twist to spin sideways as more blasts filled the empty space. Dirt flew and the armored suit slid back as the twin rifles came up and returned fire in a back-and-forth ripple. One and then the other fell back, forced by both the volume of fire and then the impact of the beams to seek what shelter they could find as she hammered away. Then it was one and two down and all around the simulation came to an end.

"And that's the SHC-Alpha," the lead designer began as his own hologram shimmered into existence next to her. "What do you think?"

"It's fun..."

The suit fell away from her and in a moment Katryna was astride and then beside the same motorcycle that had started the chase. There were some large variations from the Zero and she knelt to look them over as she considered what she liked and didn't. The biggest at-hand difference was the controls; While the Zero had required a rider to carry the rifle that they might use in armor mode slung across their back or chest, the Alpha had integrated two shortened versions of the Defense Force's standard armor rifle into the front cowling and then used them as inspiration for the rest of the styling. That had forced the elimination of the variable particle cannon in the area that would become the shoulders, but the added flexibility of the rifles was worth it.

"The swing arms now have the complete tire deployment system," he pointed out, nudging them with a booted toe, "It's all one multi-segmented piece that runs in and out of the arm. Very thin, since it's mostly cosmetic, but in case you're grounded for some reason it is there. We also took a few pages from the re-designed GhostDragon and added most of the melee options as well as secondary micro-missile launchers."

These were built into the rear faring and when it swung up onto the rider's back, they would launch over the shoulder. Good and bad; It would make staying behind cover easier but also give anti-missile systems a chance to pop them on the way up before they came down.

"Same round used in the carbines though, so you can just hot-load them," he made a gesture like he was swinging the gun back to the small of his own back, "Through the load-unload port into your rifle for direct launch. Or you can go all Itano Circus and ripple-fire them for pretty."

[Sunset]

SDF-Niagara, Underway, The Fringe...

"I've seen that design before..." Captain Waretram trailed off as he sat forward in his chair, his square-slab chin resting on the curled fingers of his massive fist.

Peeking forward had paid off just long enough for them to get a good look at what was shadowing them and that ship sat static in the main holosphere. Long and dagger-like, it was lean with a split hull that ran back to a large command section while numerous batteries studded the inside of the twin edges. A wedge of sub-light drives was built into the pommel and an inverted cross-guard housed launch bays for sub-craft and fighters. Exact dimensions were easy; The ship nearly mirrored the Niagara in length but the blade-shape hull meant it likely came in at somewhere around an eighth of the Explorer's mass. One-on-one, she'd outgun it but that likely wasn't the point.

"Sessool warship, but that's not one of their mainline ships. The design's right but she's too sleek."

More ships appeared around the first as the Tactical Officer populated the empty space with a catalog for comparison. Waretram's intuition was proved immediately right on inspection; While the long dagger was a familiar design - both for the Sessool and galaxy-over - most of the warships cataloged by the Republic were of a stacked broadside design that brought a large amount of firepower to bear as well as a considerable intimidation factor. This left the turrets exposed to surface explosions, however, and the thinner armor over the turrets would quickly be stripped away to leave a channel right into the interior. The batteries on Republic starships, by counter-example, were all recessed into the ship where they could be protected by thick armored hatches. This design was more balanced, however, with the heavy batteries built along the inside of the blade where they were sheltered on one side and still had a broad field of fire on the other. Previous examples had also proven to be so much wet cardboard, with dozens of the ships going up as they fought each other over the Sessool frontier planet of Gasroul.

"A scout?"

She seemed built for speed but that was visual data clashing with engineering fact. A sleek ship could be slow and vis versa in the vacuum of space. It was all about how much thrust she had and those engines looked average-to-slightly-better than the others. That too didn't mean anything; Internally they could be a whole different breed and apparently were, as the ship was easily keeping pace with the Heavy Explorer.

"Or a spy. Maybe they're wondering what we're doing out here. At least, I hope so. They're a long way from home now."

Sessool was thirty thousand light out from the Republic's nominal borders and the Niagara was now drawing a right angle out from that as it headed towards the galactic core. It was only half-again as far away from the mysterious empire as it was from the Republic, but that was further out than any other documented sighting. Documented being key - it was only by accident and chance that they had picked up their tail.

"Maybe they're interested in whatever we're interested in, Captain," the Sensor Officer suggested. "Or at least interested in why we're interested in it. We've been poking around near their space for a bit, after all."

"Could be, could be. But... They don't exactly seem like the scientific type. What about that insignia?" He gestured and a patch on the hull was highlighted, enlarged, and enhanced so that the swirling design over a simple geometric sigil was large enough for the entire bridge to see. "I see something like that on the other ships. Fleet identifier?"

"It's the seal of whatever Prince owns the ship," a gray-trimmed officer in the back spoke up. Everyone turned to pay attention to him; He was the duty Intelligence Officer and while his normal role kept him out of immediate action, much of what the Niagara and the other Explorers discovered ultimately flowed into the Republic's Intelligence Services for analysis and dissemination. "It looks like this one," he highlighted one of the other ships and brought up a similar device, "But it is more complex and the answer is simple; This ship is under the command of one of the elder Princes. This guy's," he drew an arrow from ship to ship, "Dad, mom... We're not quite sure on that. Or grandfather."

"So we've drawn the attention of someone a little bit higher on the totem pole?"

"I'd call it two, maybe three steps higher. I've got a report on their hierarchy, if you want to look at it, but broken down it's a bit more fine-grained than that. Younger son, older son. It's like an onion - the outermost layers of the Empire are the youngest and least experienced."

"Which means that the crew of this ship..."

"Could be a cut above the average? We just don't know a lot about the Sessool military except for singular examples."

"Fantastic," Waretram sat back and sighed before hauling his massive form to his feet. "Do we want them going where we're going? If they were stalking us, I'd expect them to have already attacked. Every light year is a chance for us to pick them up and thwart an attack. So I'm guessing they are following us but that doesn't say why. So... Let's change course," he turned to the Navigation Station. "But let's not look like we're changing course. Fly casual, see if they follow or if they peel off. What's out there that we can head towards?"

"Nothing of ours," the Lieutenant brought up the galactic map, zoomed in, and highlighted several areas that were reasonably ahead and along their course of travel. "A few TYCS ships, a Beagle out working a contact assignment... How about a ZMI Long Patrol?"

"Sounds good. If they do come after us, at least we'll have extra firepower..."

[Sunset]

SDF-Chuh-Yu Sān, Port Expedition, Liu Xiu...

"We come before you as supplicants," the first of the three strangers said, dropping to one knee and bowing his head. On each side the remaining pair did the same before rising again. "We are the few representatives of the Solonic people in this place. I am;" There was an odd hesitation as if I was being translated just slightly incorrect; "I am Vinius, Bebitus, and Eiccius."

All three were locals - at least to the wide range of species that inhabited the Republic's outpost in the system - recognizable as such by the armor they all wore. It was broadly based on the same body armor that the Defense Force Marine MPs wore as they stood guard at various points around the station but with a singular difference; Each was decorated with the recognizable motif of an animal of some unknown form. Each of the two in the rear were wearing a knightly pauldron on both broad shoulders with one adorned with the resting form of a bird-like animal that stretched wings or taloned legs across the chest to hook into the other. One was vaguely insectoid and the other mammalian and this put both in sharp contrast to that of Vinius. His armor was built in a more spectacular fashion with the head of a large bear-like animal that was covered in thick plates forming a cowl around his head with the forearms and claws of the beast stretching down his arms to form heavy gauntlets.

They were all of the same species and oddly the same height and build except for their face. To mirror their armor - or perhaps it mirrored them - each of their faces reflected the features of each in cast though not detail but if they were not Human the difference was undetectable except in that there was a certain waxiness to their skin and a bit of plasticity instead of smooth function.

"I must also apologize for misrepresenting myself as well," he looked down at his armor and seemingly at his body as well, "And though it is not the best manner for one begging a favor, it may enlighten you to tell the story behind my meager deception…”

He stopped and after a moment one of those seated at the table, who he took to be the unofficial leader, made a peculiar motion with a finger that he took as a sign to continue.

“Our species began its existence just as many of those here," he turned and gestured broadly to the crowd sprawled out across the club.

It was the ideal venue for the encounter; A score or more different species could be seen from the table where the Enclave’s representatives sat. Most were eating, talking, or watching one of the large holo-screens that floated above the space but there were a few dancing at the far end. More than a few were gathered around the open kitchen that sat off to one side where a chef - likely little more than an average presenter in her home NationState - was cooking up a gourmet meal and chattering along with it as if she were now a galactic celebrity. In a few weeks she might return home to a slot on afternoon television but here she was a cultural envoy and she played to the crowd as best she could.

“We evolved on our own planet, just as they did, but eventually we found ourselves trapped on it. We were using up our resources faster than they could be replenished and far faster than our technology could provide solutions for. Diclicus, the greatest mind of his era, offered up the solution and it is one that I am told you,” he turned back to the representatives of the Enclave, “Are familiar with. He would create a method, through many trials and near-fatal errors, that would allow us to transfer our consciousness into the machine. Our essence made both immortal and viable to the long-term survival of our world. Our external needs would be satisfied by automatons - robots - and the great mass of the Solonic people would live out an eon of existence inside a computer.”

One of the other two broke their silence and stepped forward, “We were unable to conceive of a method of faster-than-light travel, you see, and due to our own culture we looked inward for a solution rather than to the stars and the great expanse of resources that would have freed us from our worries.”

The first nodded, “It was a solution, though, and while Diclicus died on the eve of his great success his vision allowed us to survive.”

“Until we finally came to realize that it had also doomed us,” the last spoke. “The process was imperfect. While it had allowed us to transfer our minds out of our mortal bodies, it also fixed them as firm as any bond. No longer were we creative or restless but instead we were locked with what we had been at the moment of transfer. New memories, yes, but we came to understand that the efficient miracle that allowed them to be shared between us did so by creating the same memories for everyone. We all lived the same life.”

“It took that eon,” Vinius picked up again, “But many of us have resolved to change our destiny even though the road we travel may be difficult. The lure of eternal life is easy to accept and for many - most - they will never seek to leave the confines of the machine. But there is no fulfillment, no passion, no spark to their existence. Without the risk of an end, the excitement of growth and of change we are nothing better than a simulation.”

“And there is our story and my deception. These bodies are not our own, and these minds either. What you behold are but copies sent out to undertake the task of seeking out a way to return to mortality. When we return with our prize in hand our experiences and knowledge will be recorded and shared with the others but our dream is to take them selfishly to ourselves.”

“Thus we come to you,” he half-knelt again, “As supplicants. We have learned that some of your people exist in the same way and that, hope against hope, you have found a way out. A space between the two, the machine and the flesh, which would also suit our purposes and we have come to treat with you for it.”

There was a long moment as the captain of the Phoenix merchant ship, a seemingly human man in a vest and jacket with a broad range of pockets sporting various bits and bobs of tools and gear leaned forward to consider the three.

“An interesting story, but why come here in person? Why not put in a call?”

“Such an important task and such a favor as that we seek must be done in person, or at least as much as we are able.”

“Alright, well, it’s a pretty big task alright. And yeah, this is something the Phoenixi do,” he leaned back again and put his heavy boots up on the table. “But that’s not me, either. I can talk to some people who can talk to some people, but we’re talking about a state secret here. How it’s done, what it does. Three strangers in fancy armor?”

“It would be a mighty task," Bebitus offered; To him it seemed a glorious quest rather than a question of mass manufacturing. "There are over a billion minds written into the machine and while most are content to while away existence, there are many who desire to return to the world. Less than half, but nearly so.”

“Ah. Money. Money is a good motivator. Well, how about you give me a minute to talk to the people that I know, see what they know, and we’ll talk some more.”

[Sunset]

A Random Apartment, Fulton Arcology, Mars...

Clyde held up the box, reading off the side, "Possible side effects include weight gain, weight loss, changes in appetite, mood swings, hormone changes, and pregnancy. Do not take with Roanian Peach Brandy. If taken with Glorious People's Socialist Space Potato Vodka induce vomiting immediately. For individuals who identify as Female only. This product is a nutritional supplement and statements here-in have not been evaluated by the Scolopendran Science Section Health Directorate... Why are you taking this?"

Olivia snatched the box out of his hand, "Because."

"Because?"

"Because if you like these," she pointed to her t-shirt and the pleasant curves underneath, "I'll keep taking it. You do like these, right?"

"Well, sure, but... Pregnancy?"

"I'm sure that's just on there because of all the sex you'll be having," she finished, her tone confident. "And you like that too, right? So we'll use protection."

Clyde didn't sound anywhere near as confident, "Uh, sure. I guess..."

[Sunset]

Kedo's Cabin, Kayv, Alawks' Star, Ares Super-Cluster...

'I need a new geegaw,' Alwyra realized as she sunk to her nose in the foamy bath.

Leaving just the tip of her nose and the swell of her breasts - and the occasional flick of her tail - to break the surface, she quietly drifted as she pondered this epiphany. She'd built a lunar colony, helped two of the button-cute Xypndi create a new economy out of the jungle, and a quick trip to far-off Earth had resulted in a concern revolving around the harvest and trade in rare lumber. But the universe was full of trees, the N'Xypndiltn economy was flourishing, and the mall was - well - boring. She needed a geegaw.

'It needs to be shiny,' she lifted a hand, turning the fingers just above the waves so that the Shifting Tyrant gemstone mounted on the impossibly delicate band could sparkle and flash, 'Or soft and furry. And rare. It needs to be really, really rare.'

She'd considered going into the kenjat trade but while the dog-like animals were both cute and useful, the trade had already been heavily involved by the time she'd arrived on N'Xypndiltn. Plus there was something about having the little animals around that had threatened to turn her off to the delicious drink. Something about playing with their poop. No, she decided, she wanted something new.

'Something no one else, or at least very few, have ever seen.'

But how to find such a thing? There was always the Exploration Command, but while they came across new things all the time, they weren't exactly looking for the next Pelwar fur. A new species of edible fruit would soon enough be grown here or there and served on cottage cheese across the Republic and she couldn't exactly sell a new species on the streets. She'd been down that path herself and for a moment there was the sharp memory of a startled face, a flash of red, and the slow bloom of blood across his chest. Since then she'd spent a significant chunk of what her company had made selling the Tyrant stones in buying out the contracts of mistreated debt laborers and inserting them into her network of companies to live a better life while still repaying their debt to society. It had proved good for her bottom line, her public profile, and her soul. But it hadn't taken away the itch to do something new.

'Scratch, scratch. I am a cat after all,' she extended a long leg above the water and curled her toes in imitation of claws, 'Gotta get a new scratching post!'

There was a knock on the bathroom door and she turned her head just as it swung open and Kedo slipped inside.

"There you are. I should have guessed you were in the tub!"

"Uh huh," she curled her legs up and rose to her feet, water streaming off her. "I've got an itch I can't scratch," she said coyly, tossing her hair back over her shoulder and posing, half-covered in suds, "You want to try?"

A short term solution, but one of her favorites!

[Sunset]

SDF-Apexis, The Elysium System, The Homestead Sector...

"Here we have two asteroids, both alike in dignity," Commander Brown began, triggering the demonstration. "And here we have two Mark 47 Torpedoes, one fitted with a standard Conversion-Lance warhead and the other a warhead fitted with modifications based on Dr. Brilla's work."

On the large forward display - in essence the entire front wall of the spacious bridge - the two targets floated in place, the two shuttles that had slowly tugged them into place just now making their way off-screen and back to the safety of the Apexis. A close-up view in one corner showed the two devices where they had been mounted on each, lightly secured in place with bands of what looked suspiciously like duct tape. The first was the more familiar tapered coffin shape while the second more resembled a culinary abomination; The shell had been modified with several additional and clearly impromptu modules until it resembled a stalk of broccoli. Both were mounted nose-down on their respective asteroids and both resembled a hair - one straight and black, the other ingrown and infected - missed during a morning shave.

"We aren't going to launch either for safety reasons; Both warheads use the torpedo power plant for initiation and that can also introduce another variable as the amount of fuel remaining affects the yield. In this case, since neither will use more than the fuel required for the start-up cycle the explosion should be especially energetic. Not that it's technically an explosion, but I don't think we need to be pulling out the sock puppets for an explanation of exactly how a Chan-Korvashiko Reactive Conversion Warhead works. We're not living in our mother's basement anymore and raging on the forums, right?"

The thin-haired scientist looked around the bridge, making contact with a couple of the key players, and then nodded, "Right. Let's skin this smokewagon and see what happens!"

"Start the test sequence," Captain Typhani ordered. While it wasn't her show, the Oeie was still the ultimate responsibility aboard ship and if they were live-firing weapons - even remotely - she wanted her finger on the trigger. "All systems show yellow;" A holographic checklist beside her flashed as the various systems went from amber to green, "And ready. Arm torpedoes..."

"Torpedoes armed, Ma'am," the Tactical Officer, a fresh-faced Lieutenant who crouched rather than stood at his station growled, "Armed and ready."

"Move munition two status to red;" she didn't want the risk of an accidental detonation, even as remote of possibility as that was. "And countdown of sixty on munition one. Replay test sequence on one," The status lights flickered and she nodded, "Fifty seconds."

It wasn't a long fifty seconds, but after only a few moments most of the bridge crew, Doctor Brilla, and Commander Brown were shifting around - looking at their stations, turning to chat with their neighbor, or fading out for a moment to read a news article or watch a video. Only Captain Typhani stayed ultimately focused, sitting back in her command chair to watch the whole scene with machine precision. When the counter hit thirteen, eyes began to drift back to the main screen and by the time it hit five everyone was reasonably focused; After all, while this was an important test, it was the control. They'd all seen it or something like it before whether in training or in combat.

'...Five...Four...Three...Two...One...'

There was no rippling shockwave - there's no air in space, after all - but there was an extremely bright flash of acetylene-blue light that was the by-product of the Chan-Korvashiko reaction. In an atmosphere this might have done severe damage to an unarmored person for tens of kilometers outside of the actual blast zone but here it was only enough for the computer that controlled the main display to dim it to appropriately exciting levels with a smoothness that made it seem natural. What remained was an asteroid that had a near-perfect cone cut out of the nickel-iron mass with variances here and there for the density of the minerals and random chance interactions within the reaction process. Cracks ran through the rest of the body; Newton's Third Law had ensured that the light thrown off had pushed against the weakened aggregate with enough force to start it along a course to slow disintegration.

"Neat," Saryan dug around in her popcorn. "Let's get on to the next one!"

"Munition two to yellow..."

Lights flashed and once again the Captain went through the checklist while everyone around her went about their own details. The ruined asteroid was now forgotten and the second moved to front and center on the main display as everything was checked and re-check.

"...and all green. Countdown for sixty."

This time everyone watched. What they were hoping for was either a more energetic or a more precise reaction; The first explosion had torn the heart out of the target but had only gone about half-way through the large asteroid. If it worked the way the Commander hoped, it would put a straight shot right through the core and out the other side. He'd even put his own skin in the game by placing a teddy bear waving a small flag on the other side of the asteroid as a target of sorts and this now appeared opposite the detail view in the other corner of the wide display.

'...thirteen...twelve...eleven...ten...nine...eight...seven...five...'

"Five? What happened to six?!"

'...just kidding...four...three...two...one...'

Nightmare purple spewed across the screen as a portal to an unknown and unfathomable dimension of space and time ripped open with a sound that would be forever etched on their souls. Tentacles of amber flecked with glowing gold rolled out and quickly enveloped the asteroid before pulling back to draw it sharply into the abyss. A keening wail accompanied its last moments in the universe as we know it and then the portal disappeared to leave nothing behind but the teddy bear clutching a tattered flag and screaming in terror while black tears dripped from its soulless eyes.

Everyone stared unblinking at the empty space where the asteroid had been. It was only after they had all remembered to breath before Commander Brown broke the silence, "Huh. I'll, uh, take a look at those modifications."

[Sunset]

SDF-Dogana, GEC-2995C (Akahshi) Orbit, The Periphery...

"Well, it's not a payload in the blow things up sense," the engineering technician said, sliding the dissected micrite out of the probe's workscreen and up onto one of the large holo-displays on the back wall with the flick of a finger, "Though that doesn't mean it doesn't or didn't have a payload of some kind."

Spread out on the screen, the remains looked like a mix of the insectoid and the electronic. The triple-segmented carapace had been broken open and the interior exposed while the feeder and motive tendrils had been pulled off and seperated into several pieces that now resembled limbs and antenna broken off and scattered about in some primal struggle. What was more interesting than the structure of the micrite was what was contained inside; A dense lattice of circuits that filled nearly the entire inner volume of the robot.

"But it could be a payload in the electronic warfare sense. All of this architecture is alien to me, and I'm not an electrical engineer, but this looks like a processor of some kind. There's not a lot of storage but there are a lot of bits going from here to there. And that could explain why they are not making more of themselves - they are just too complex for self-contained building instructions and assembly."

"So, where are they coming from if they can't build more?" Admiral Falk asked, looking over the Orc's shoulder at the probe display."

"...you know," Timmons paused, mentally laying out how best to present his idea, "Maybe it's like a trap." He pointed to one of the screens where the separated debris from the wreck still rested silently. "This stuff is like a fluid. Whatever tanks those valves lead to could be full of the stuff. When they pick up a potential victim, they send out a little bit to try to infect it."

"Why?"

"Hard question. Or," a lightbulb went off, "Maybe not!"

A whole chorus of whys and why nots had been running around in his head but the incandescent answer was easy.

"It's a shipboard defense mechanism. A boarder or intruder makes contact with the system, it attacks and safely takes the target down. The crash just scattered pieces of it all over."

"Why not just shoot them?"

"Yeah... Why not?" Timmons scratched his bald pate, "That's what I'd do."

"Because the Tyzun don't have guns!"

Both officers turned to look at the Seeker, who was standing at the door leaning up against the frame with her thumbs in the pockets of a pair of low-cut jeans. She was wearing an open jacket styled in the fashion of a uniform blouse as well and when combined with the rubber-like appliance strips that barely covered her breasts gave the impression of a young woman on her way out for a night on the town.

"Hmm?"

"Haven't read the report yet, huh? The Niagara's report had that interesting tidbit buried on page twenty - no guns. No weaponry of any kind, really, unless you count impromptu stuff. In fact, I'd say that your idea of this being a defensive mechanism completely misses the mark. They're basically pacifists."

"How would that work? The technology required for spaceflight has almost always..."

Timmons didn't get a chance to launch into his lecture on technological advancement and the need for warfare as a catalyst for rapid advancement as the Dogana's intercom chose just that moment to chime and the voice of the bridge commander filled the improvised workshop, 'Admiral, SDF-Nocturnal and SDF-Ixutsangi have just dropped out of warp and are taking up escort positions...'

"Nocturnal?" Jamie's face fell, "That's..."

There was a shimmer and a distinctly pleasant tone as a hologram formed in the air next to her. The figure was of a young woman with mixed Caucasian-East Asian features and a uniform insignia that put her at the distinctly same rank as the Admiral but with a name tag that immediately made her the highest ranked officer in the room.

"Hello, Admiral Falk," Katryna smiled, "How are you?"

"...goddamnit."

"No, no..." The Director of Special Projects held up her hands, "I'm not here to steal your discovery out from under you;" An ironic statement, as the Admiral had done just that to Timmons and his crew, barring the particular circumstances, "But I saw the reports come in and thought you might like having the right equipment for the job. It just turned out that the Ixutsangi was finishing with her refit just as we were leaving Terra Incognito."

Behind the Admiral, Timmons smirked. No matter what assurances she offered, he knew - knew - that she'd be looking over their shoulder the whole time. Or conducting parallel research. Either way turnabout was fair play and now it was the Admiral who was likely going to be offering the same unsolicited advice.

"And you must be Seeker Deania," Katryna turned to the Duab'Akii. "I've read about Timmon's latest addition; Nice to meet you in the flesh."

Deania had stepped up next to Timmons when the arrival of the two starships had come in over the intercom and now she was standing there with her hands tucked behind her watching the interaction between the two Admirals with interest.

"Yes, Ma'am, thank you Ma'am."

"Too formal," the hologram chided. "I'd hug you, but," her hands passed right through the young woman's chest, "Katryna will be just fine. Now, if you want to show me what you've got, Admiral, I'll get you the equipment you need."

[Sunset]

SNN Nightly News with Tanya Zaldano...

Tanya turned to strut across the seemingly endless set, every step of her spike-heeled shoes sending a wave-like ripple out across the floor to reveal chart lines, stock symbols, and graphs in their wake. Where the waves bounced off each other they combined to compare the performance of one company, business sector, or whole star system to another. The most important or dramatic of these rose up behind her to gain a floating if possibly fleeting permanence while the others slowly sunk into the abyss of stars under the transparent surface. All of this was reflected in what little Tanya wore; A carefully curated mixture of glossy black flexible strips and shapes that barely covered a narrow slash of her sculptured torso from shoulder to opposite thigh and at the perimeter these flowed outward to form a long open-leg gown that ended just above those midnight-black heels.

"Interesting news in galactic business news tonight," she extended a graceful hand and her slim arm rose in a gesture of creation to pull a whole star and its accompanying planets from the abyss below. "The government of Solonic, located in the far reaches of the Coreward Fringe, has begun negotiations with the Phoenix Conclave - a space-based civilization currently wandering the rim of the Gamma Quadrant - to establish a manufacturing presence in their system. Just another business startup? Not in this case…”

Holograms of several different individuals appeared around Tanya until she was posed in the middle of what looked like a collection of fashion models that happened to complement her own outfit perfectly. Of the various species, only a few would be recognizable to the everyday inhabitant of Sunset but all were at least somewhat familiar in form.

“Already we’re hearing rumblings from the cybernetics and augmented reality sectors about this one. According to our research, a significant portion of the Phoenixi population were formerly part of a self-contained electronic mass consciousness. Via a technological method, these electronic intelligences have been able to migrate out of the confines of their virtual world and into the real world and it is this process that the Solonic government is mostly interested in negotiating access to.”

“Why is this important for me and you, and why does this,” Charts and graphs again appeared under a drawn finger depicting the relative strengths and weaknesses of the two industrial sectors, “Have these two pillars of the Republic economy in such an uproar?”

“Firstly, nearly everyone in the Republic is augmented. From the cybernetic interface that allows me to control the holographic projector that created this set to the basic implant that lets me ignore calls from my mother, almost everyone has some degree of augmented reality interface. If everyone has it, everyone is buying it. But, presuming this technology works in the way that top researchers and scientists are speculating it works, it would change all that.”

“Currently, most implants are just that; Medical devices that are surgically implanted in the body and connected to the nervous system at various major or minor nerve junctions. This would potentially centralize many of the implants within a single unit or framework, as well as rendering many of them extraneous except as purely software applications. A lot of this will depend on just what the Phoenixi technology looks like but all the indicators point to a generational shift in cybernetics technology. Many physical manufacturers would likely either go out of business or be forced to downsize to a software-only concern or, conversely, expand into the manufacture of their own version of whatever device allows this process.”

“So, if you have money in the game, brace for impact! It won’t be overnight, but things are going to get crazy and remember - you heard it here first!”

[Sunset]

SDF-Ojeni, Capuchin Debris Belt...

Inside the twisting, gravity-less confines of the floating wreckage the chase had quickly become a hunt. Blind corners concealed dead-ends, hidden passages, and dark hazards. Around one might be an open gap, a razor-edge structural member, or nothing but a blank bulkhead wall. Even a long corridor laced with cabling and conduit might have dangers both obvious and hidden with what had once been the floor becoming the ceiling or a wall and an overhead vent providing ample concealment for both predators and prey. The answer to which was which would be answered by who ended up on the wrong end of the gun...

----

Ensign Jacob slid the sensor-studded tip of his rifle barrel around the corner and in an instant the enormously expensive system knew enough about the target that knelt behind a tangle of floating cable in the middle of the hall to identify and single out the weapon they was holding as a weapon and then destroy it with a single off-bore blast as the Sanglanti pulled the mental trigger. The dull red cone that had momentarily sprayed across his vision to signify where the weapon was - and could be - aiming disappeared and he charged around the corner to find his prey looking down in stunned amazement. Without gravity to lock him into the horizontal the Ensign ran along what had been a wall and then the ceiling, his heavy rifle pointed dead at the armored spacer's chest, before launching off wall and into an altogether unnecessary but really cool looking flying jump kick. Smashing feet first into the standing figure he sent him flying towards the far wall while an outstretched hand caught a convenient support and arrested his own forward motion. Satisfied that the target's hands were empty, he tossed the rifle aside and while it spun around to cover him, he pulled heavily on the beam to launch himself across the final distance to barreled into him and smash him bodily up against the bulkhead.

Her.

Details like that weren't important for the moment. Behind him, a vent cover shifted and another shape jumped into the hallway at an angle that ended up with him standing foot to head with the newcomer. Jacob saw the woman's reaction through the transparent face plate of her helmet - her eyes moving past him - but his suit had already told him about the new threat. The barrel of a weapon came up and the Ensign threw his armored body across the woman. Their goal was captives, not corpses, and even if the ugly looking gun was capable of punching through the GhostDragon's advanced armor they could always send more but captives?

Not so much.

This time it was one of the smaller drones that had thus-far rested secure in its socket on his shoulder that fired but unlike last there was no shocked stare but rather a rippling explosion as the precision strike proved too much so. Whatever ammunition had been loaded into the wide barrel cooked off taking the gun, the attacker, his rifle, and most of the middle corridor with it. It was no time to worry about a lost weapon, however. Where there were two, there might be three and he grabbed the spacer, slammed her hard against the bulkhead, and threw her over a shoulder. Whether she was unconscious or just smart enough to stay down, he turned and began to retrace his path at a blinding pace made possible by the stored map.

A few minutes later and he was free of the wreckage to take a long jump across the empty gap towards the far waiting cruiser. Behind him the massive plate sparkled and occasionally shuddered as his teammates engaged in a vicious kill-or-be-captured firefight. Perhaps they would have surrendered if they had known better who they faced but whatever species they were seemed inclined to violence as a first resort. With this in mind, Jacob's destination wasn't the ship itself; Precautions aside, it was possible that the woman was loaded with all kinds of biological contaminants, chemical weapons, or was simply a bomb in disguise. One of the ship's shuttles floated a few hundred meters away and it would serve as a way-point where whatever captives they managed to take could be stripped, searched, and processed for transfer.

----

"Of course, all this would be a lot easier if they'd just talk to us," Commander Sloan noted as she watched the Marine load his captive into the airlock of the small Flare-Class and then hurl himself back across the abyss and towards the action.


"Mhm. First question is going to be why they didn't. We tried..."

It was a question that had been bothering Kami all along. No radio, no lasers - other than the melty kind, no flashing lights, or anything else that might have been an attempt at communication. Their own attempts had been full-spectrum and while it was possible that the crew of the ship had taken this as an attack, it was to her mind unlikely. Shouting, maybe, but not an attack. That put the easiest answer as a people prone to violence but she hoped they were more than that.

"...a mindlessly violent species wouldn't be able to build... Whatever this was," she murmured, looking at the broad band of debris that circled the star.

"No," Sloan answered, her voice dark, "But they'd be able to destroy it."

[Sunset]

Erika and Demi's House, Botany Bay, Chuh-Yu...

"Well that could have gone better..." Demi sighed, flopping back on the bed.

"Oh?"

Erika was tucked up in the bay window to where she could look out over the inlet and the churning water that thrashed the gravel beaches. A storm was breaking all around them and every so often a jagged bolt of lightning split the far horizon or the crash of thunder shook the windows. One of the cats lay at her feet, its paws curled up under its chest and whiskers twitching as it looked from one bright flash to another. She was idly petting it but her eyes were not on the room and it was clear her consciousness was elsewhere. That wasn't a hindrance for Demi; She could talk and she knew her partner would be listening. Just listening.

"That was my mom," she went on to explain the phone call she had just left. "It's Mother's Day. Did Katryna call you?"

"Yes," and in fact she was talking to her distant daughter at the moment, but it wasn't important.

"Happy Mother's Day. Good way to start the conversation, but then she dropped the mom-bomb - 'When am I going to get to call you for Mother's Day?'"

"Mmm."

Demi rolled over and looked at Erika. For a minute she just looked at her, trying to figure out whether that was an interested Mmm or just casual acknowledgement that she had finished her statement. Suddenly satisfied that she'd never get an answer by wondering, she slid off the bed to take the three steps needed to snatch up the cat and cradle it in her arms.

"She also mentioned that she saw the announcement of your new product line on the news. No specifics, just nice conversation, but..."

"It wasn't?"

"No. Either she doesn't see a coincidence between your development of an artificial insemination pill and our status as happily married lesbians or she's hoping there is one and I'm going to be pushing out a grand-something sooner rather than later." Rolling back onto the bed, she held the cat over her head and looked up at it as the Russian Blue stared back at her, feet dangling. "And I just don't know."

"Are you thinking about it? Us having a baby?"

"I don't know. Should I be? Do you want another kid? And is it bad that I feel that pressure? I mean, I'm sorta a mom now but Katryna's more like a sister than a daughter. I never had to tell her to pick up her clothes or keep her room clean or brush her teeth. Come to think of it, you didn't have to either, did you?"

"Heh, no," Erika smiled, turning her full attention to her wife for the moment. "That was never an issue. It was more like... Building a house that you really like and then slowly adding on to it. It was comfortable right from the start though now we do have the same awkward conversations as her personality matrix has shifted away from mine."

"No awkward masturbation conversation?"

"No," she shook her head, flipping her hair back with a finger, "Sexuality was never on my mind until we started dating and it just never came up."

"Haven't heard any complaints from Amaril," Demi was about to add 'And they have two kids so they are doing something right' but the irony of the statement hit her just before it slipped past her mental filter.

"You didn't answer the question though; Are you interested in having a baby?"

"No, yes. Maybe? I don't know. With two heteros, if they can't make up their mind they can just see what happens, can't they? With us it would be one-hundred percent deliberate."

"I could introduce a random function into the next batch, but yes, it would still be a yes or no in the end;" The designer made a mental note to do just that.

"And maybe it's my Mom talking, maybe it's hormones. The old biological clock ticking away. Maybe it's just spring and we've been doing it like rabbits and my body is saying that I should be pregnant. But I shouldn't be letting my body make that decision, should I? Is it something that is right for me, for you," she turned the cat so it was looking at Erika. With a meow it scrambled and she let it down on the bed and a moment later it had hopped back into its previous spot to press its dark nose against the glass. "For us?"

"Resources, ability... Motivation though? I want you to do what makes you happen. Not what your mom wants, or even your body says it wants, but what all of you wants. And before you ask, I want what you want. Call it a cop-out, but I don't think your mom is thinking 'Erika should have a baby' but 'My daughter should have a baby.'"

"Cop-out, but you're right."

"Keep thinking it over," Erika advised, slipping off the bench seat and standing with a long stretch. "We've got plenty of time, and if you're doing it for your Mom, you're probably doing it for the wrong reason. I've gotta run."

A moment later she was out the door and Demi was alone with her thoughts.

[Sunset]

Special Projects Facility, Southern Continent, Denali, Yukon System...

"Ah, teenagers," Kraus suddenly chuckled as he picked up a cardboard box so stereotypical it could still be found on desks across the galaxy awaiting the last sad remains of a broken career, files to be shredded for corporate shenanigans, or in this case the last vestiges of a project drawn to a successful close. "Silly, stupid teenagers. Fuckim."

Doctor Bhat looked up from her own desk where the Akashan was undertaking the very same chore, except that she owned the contents of her identical box, "Hmm? You said something?"

"Oh, no, sorry. A distant colleague just sent out an account of his latest adventure. But I can't tell you about it unless you have the secret handshake," he slung his box into one arm and held out a fist with his fingers intertwined in a way that looked uncomfortable. Bhat looked at it, held up her own hand to try and he shook his head, "Nope, sorry. Anyway, nothing you need to know about unless you're the type to be concerned about the safety of your family. I just stopped by to say goodbye and good luck. It's been a pleasure having you and the rest of the Akashan team here. And you have a fantastic ass, so it will definitely be a loss when you leave."

"I..." The middle-aged scientist blushed a little, "Thank you, Doctor. We've..."

"Nah, you didn't really enjoy it too much, did you? I mean, the rest of the guys are okay, and I'm sure you got a chance to lock heels with more than a couple with that body, but I'm kind of a dick. But that was my job and you did yours and I did mine and now we have a new whatever that thing is. Can I tell you what it is?"

"A Coronal Mass Ejector?"

"Right. Should be a lot of fun. In fact, I heard through the grapevine that some of you are going to be assigned to some kind of terraforming gig when the first one comes online. Apparently the idea of some brilliant scientist with a touch of gray in her hair. Hair that would look fantastic spread out on some bed sheets."

"Doctor Kraus! Aren't you married?!" She finally blurted out, pushing past the typical reserved nature of the Akashans about such things. "What are you asking me?!"

"Nothing, unless," his eyebrow went up, "Unless you're interested in a private celebration. Say, my quarters, tonight? Just putting it out there..." Hefting another box, he turned and walked away, "Bring your own booze!"

It was several seconds before she realized that neither box was his and it never occurred to her to check the contents of the box that he'd left behind. At least until the snakes had started pouring out into the interior of the shuttle as it landed on the Akashan's out-system transport. Thus the CME development project drew to a successful close with more than a few humorous stories and mysterious stains on the sheets to show for it. Production of the titanic siege weapons slash terraformers would occur elsewhere and thus it was that the facility slowly returned to something approaching normal.

"Which means we need a new project," Kraus declared as he sat on a chair in the lab, his feet up on the desk. A spray of holograms hovered in the air around him and he picked through these as he went on. "I should send this one to Doctor Bhat. Her expression is fantastic. Or an old one; Back to hunting down the mysteries of human origin?"

"Or we could go on a vacation," Meri pointed out. "Because you owe me."

"For what?"

The Kaissi snatched a picture at random out of the cloud, "This? And this. Possibly this. Oh and especially this."

"I don't suppose a picnic will work?"

"In ten meters of snow? I'm thinking somewhere family-friendly. Bright colors, no drunken orgies. Maybe some cartoon characters?"

[Sunset]

Ambrosia, Southern Anuke, The Ares System...

Nature finds a way...

The common lab rat breed is carefully curated; Bred to be as physically similar as possible, they will weigh the same, have the same build, the same length, girth, even speed (useful for running the odd maze or race). All within a narrow percentage band that will make the various tests run on them and using them more accurately measurable. They will also, importantly, be separated by gender even within the same laboratory. Even a chance pregnancy could throw off a whole series of tests and result in the waste of tens, hundreds, or even millions of DiCoins in experimental drugs or hours of research time.

Two weeks after their escape, all of the former captives had given birth and their young were thriving. A maze of earthen tunnels under the traditionally constructed manor house had allowed them to escape both the clumsy attempts of Ambrose's minions to capture them and access to both the surrounding fields and to the subterranean complex where the hidden infrastructure that powered the Doctor's various legal business and covert research concerns were located.

The fields were mostly staple crops; Anuke was the breadbasket of the Ares System and its enormous agriculture production fed the countless billions on Ares and Chuh-Yu. The labs were another matter altogether and it was here that the rats met their first challenges. Roaming minions, toxic chemicals, exotic materials, and industrial machinery all claimed their own share of the escapees.

"The hell is that?!"

47 twisted, aiming the fist-hole barrel of his massive disintegration rifle at a pair of glittering points in the darkness.

"Gotta be another one of those escaped rats," 78 offered, fumbling at his vest for a moment before flicking on a flashlight and turning the beam into the dark corner. "I think..."

The shape disappeared into a gap in the concrete almost as soon as the beam fell on it but it didn't look like one of the escapees. Larger and with an odd gait, it reared up on its hind legs to jump up the wall into a hole and it scrabbled for a moment before the long tail vanished along with its bearer.

"Did that look like a rat to you?"

"No," 78 knelt at the hole, shining his light inside and peering in after it. "Rats don't have tits, do they?"

The massive slab of 47 looked down and patted his chest with his free hand, "Uh, six? I think? But small..."

"Yeah. Those looked like Seventeen's, right?"

At least in proportion to the size of the rodent. Neither minion had seen many rats - or in fact any outside of a brief glimpse through the glass wall of a cage - but this one was definitely bigger and thus the fur-covered breasts that hung from its chest were also bigger.

"Yeah."

"Should we report it?" There was an odd twitch at this suggestion and 78's face went slack as the conditioning took over, "I'll report it immediately," the gray-faced man thumbed the button on the microphone that hung around his neck. "Control, This is 78..."

The Doctor liked the microphones. As opposed to the simplicity of the augmented reality implants that nearly everyone had, they had a certain style to them. A desire was required to use them and this had been drilled into each of the alien minions through techniques too terrible to mention. It was also a useful ploy; If a do-gooder (or ever worse, a Hero) were to penetrate his lair, the temptation to take one of the microphones to taunt him, listen in, or call for help was right there as were additional function. A small device that could generate a significant electrical shock - convenient for training as well - and an explosive device that might only tickle the energy absorbing aliens were both built into the collar that rested conveniently around the neck.

After a moment of back-and-forth chatter, the two minions moved on. A new assignment had come down; Search out the rats and exterminate them. But as they swept the dark corners of the complex for the slightest sign, glittering red eyes peeked out from behind grate and pipe to disappear a moment later.

And in the tunnels that wound deep through the earth? The next generation was already growing...

[Sunset]

SDF-Dogana,GEC-2995C (Akahshi) Orbit, The Periphery...

"It's an intelligence matrix," the technican announced, this time with fair bit more certainty. "Or I should say part of one."

The certainty was provided both by the equipment and the expertise. A specialty probe, built in the Republic and augmented with components from all over the Triumvirate, allowed them to look deep into the tiny micrite and trace out individual circuits and pathways. These details were then passed through a diagnostic system designed for both expert and artificial intelligence systems and then examined carefully by an expert in both. Which, as Admiral Falk had worried, had taken the technicians and engineers aboard the Dogana more or less out of the process but there was much to be learned all around.

"It is largely similar to the processor;" Commonly referred to as computronium, "That we use to temporarily store the user-engram created by the NEENJA process. We're not certain if each micrite contains one or multiple engrams - or engrams at all - but the direction we're leaning in is that each swarm," she pointed to the various zombie-like infested that stood in holographic array along one wall, "Contains all, part, or multiples of an intelligence of some kind."

"If it's an intelligence, why isn't it talking?" Falk asked.

"Because, and this is a guess based on lack of evidence, it can't. That is to say that it doesn't know how. We've torn one of these things down completely;" A fact the had its own ethical implications, "But we've only found a small amount of the structured architecture that would signify memory rather than active processing. Just enough to store the instructions needed for the micrite to operate."

Katryna interjected, "It's possible that the two elements are combined, but that wouldn't be very efficient as not all memories are needed all the time but all elements of a personality matrix are if the personality is to remain cohessive over time."

"Which, in either scenario, we're looking at an intelligence that potentially operates at the upper end of animal-like."

"Is it sentient?"

"Right now? No," the tech answered, looking back to Commander Timmons. "At least it would be hard to understand it as such. The question we're trying to answer now it whether the memories and experiences that would give the intelligence something to draw on are missing or whether they have simply never been there."

"Or maybe they were there," Timmons mused, leaning back against the bulkhead wall of the bay. "Down there that is. The ship took a lot of damage in the crash. If there was a central databank for all of these things to connect to... Just like they are connecting to these guys!" He realized suddenly. "If their repository was destroyed, maybe they are trying to reconnect to it when they infest whatever Humans wander too close to the wreckage. The Niagara is trying to track down the origins of broader Humanity and the Tyzun were though to be baseline Humans before whatever happened happened. Maybe this ship was their ark," he finished.

"Then why aren't they talking to us through one of these guys," Falk repeated. "They know how to talk, or did."

"Because they don't know how to talk to them. Language is very complex. Consider all of the oddities of English - which Standard is based on - and then try to build a translation function on paper. And that's just the surface level of the spoken language. Our own 'Universal Translator' implants are really just a specialty connection to the more powerful system aboard a starship barring unique circumstances."

"So lets hook one of these unique circumstances up to one of these things and see what they say..."

[Sunset]

Defense Force Training Academy Twenty-Six, Ares...

The door to Commander Sheldon's private quarters opened with a whistle and the Lieutenant who had just rudely interrupted his sleep stepped through, "Commander, I think this is something you will want to see..."

It was early morning and life had not - for the most part - even started stir in the halls of the Academy but yet Lieutenant Pidove had a smirk on his face that caused Sheldon to immediately sit up in bed and pull on a uniform blouse over his teddy bear pajamas before hopping to his feet. Leading his superior out into the maze of hallways and corridors, they wound their way through in the direction of what the Commander could only guess was the front entrance. Here and there they passed someone or something already awake or just ending their day; Robots cleaning the floors or the occasional Cadet on punishment detail. They passed the open door to the commissary and the smell of something truly awful drifted through.

"Keegan is on kitchen duty again," Pidove warned. "Might want to skip breakfast."

The Cadet was always in trouble and, if the location of the punishment was any indication, it had been a particularly vicious food-fight that had sent the young man into the tender embraces of the head chef. Judging by the smell it would be his last time in the kitchen no matter where his crimes occurred.

A few more turns and they had reached the lobby and the front doors. These were completely frosted over - it was quite cold outside - but the Lieutenant stepped forward and they whisked open to a scene of utter shock and dismay to the Commander. Arranged all around the grass bordering the quad were careful rows of tents along with cooking stoves, bags and packs, and more ominously piles of equipment. There were also lots and lots of people and, for the most part, they were all young and broadly representative of the gathered species of the Republic. Male, female, and whatever else, they were standing around talking in small and large groups or going about various chores at their campsites. It was, with some certainty, that Sheldon knew that they had not been there the night before.

"Where did all of this come from?!"

"Commander," the Lieutenant drew his attention and Sheldon's jaw dropped.

The inner gate was open. Not just open but blocked open; Normally used as one of the last physical tests between the outside world and the hallowed halls of the Academy, the timed gate that only allowed prospective applicants a limited amount of time from the outer wall had been rendered inoperable by the addition of a heavy wooden plank right at the threshold. This had locked it in place and not only had it allowed the enormous crowd through but showed with blunt clarity the devastation beyond. The Academy building was set on a low hill and where there had once been a huge circle of nearly unbroken forest that ringed the Academy out to nearly forty kilometers, there was now a neat line cut arrow-straight through the thick forest right to the heavy outer gate. He could see all the way to the end; All the way to the open plain and the lonely maglev station at the other end.

Creeks and canyons had run through the forestland but these were not gone but bridged now and not by a simple fallen log. Complex constructions of cut and fitted timbers spanned each with well-laid plank decking and supporting columns to keep the largest stable. There had been a marsh too; His own creation, he had spent months sending the nerdy Cadets out to dam creeks and divert water to form a stinking, muddy, foul swamp that would force applicants to either trek through it or spend hours going out of their way to get around. It wasn't gone but heavy battens of brush and branches had been laid down to provide a firm path across. His carefully crafted and sculpted nightmare was now a pleasant afternoon walk and there were even lanterns - lanterns! - spaced out alongside the path and hung up where needed to illuminate potentially treacherous areas.

"Who..."

He looked around. While the encampment was more-or-less chaotic, there did seem to be an orderly command post set up next to the fountain and he began to walk towards it, bare feet slapping on the bricks.

"Makes sense," Pidove noted, the grin still firmly in place, "Secure the fresh water supply and keep it close to the operations center..."

Pidove, Sheldon suddenly noticed, was wearing his boots. Which meant that the Lieutenant had probably known this was going on all night and had chosen not to wake him. It couldn't be helped now, however, and they were almost to what he took for the organizational center of the camp. There was a small group of men and women standing around a folding table with most on one side and one, alone, on the other with his back facing the Commander. Another step and Sheldon stopped, stock still, and struggled to keep his teeth together. Shorter, yes, by several years but there was something familiar about the slim blonde-haired young man who stood over the table looking over a cluster of holograms while deep in conversation with his advisers.

Seeming conversation.

Another few steps forward and the young man raised his hand in what seemed to be a planned gesture as suddenly the entire camp stopped what they were doing and began to fall into place around the officer until he was walking through an orderly formation of arranged blocks two wide and five deep. What had been seemingly random clothing was now revealed as purposeful as well; Blocks of red, blue, black, green, yellow... The largest species were together, the smallest together, and all were arranged so they could see the table as he walked through. All were quiet, all were still, and most worrying of all they were all holding a single sheet of paper and all of them were filled out.

Neatly, legibly.

He stopped just behind the young adult - teenager, possibly - at the table and that was the signal for a second order to begin. Before he could open his mouth, they all began to march as one towards the waiting doors of the Academy. There they would stop at the front desk, get the directions and then walk through the halls like a swarm of highly organized locusts until they reached the end of their journey and could - one by one - deposit their application in the clearly marked tray at the end of the hallway. Not on his desk, where he could simply round-file it, or in one of the various decoys he had scattered around, but in that single jet-black tray that would shortly be filled to the brim with hundreds of waiting applications. It was at that very moment of realization that he knew who it was.

"Blaine."

The young man turned, smiled, and bowed, "Akiko Blaine, Commander Sheldon. It is good to meet you. I am sorry for my intrusion on your morning, but today is the first day that applications will be processed for the next term and as I have secured the permission of my legal guardians, I have decided to make my application in the hopes of following..."

"Your sister."

"...yes. She has achieved much success and honor and I hope to follow in her footsteps," he laid a hand on a stack of papers at the edge of the table.

"You cut down my forest."

"I found myself with a large number of similarly minded friends. It was necessary to expedite the process. The bridges and pathways as well, and of course it was necessary to do it in one night so as to avoid the attentions of the staff. The planning was quite complex but with everything in place, we were able to accomplish it at a walking pace."

"You cut down my forest, bridged my creek, raised my marsh, blocked my gate," Sheldon paused, "...and I am just so gawd-daym proud of you all," he flicked away a tear. "Now, get off my quad!"

It was all gone in an hour except for the enormous stack of paperwork that he - or more accurately Lieutenant Pidove - would have to process. After all, he was still the Dick.

[Sunset]

SDF-Apexis, Outside The Elysium System, The Homestead Sector...

"Alright, well, let's try this again," Commander Brown said nervously as he looked to the back of the bridge where three still, silent figures loomed. "All test systems to red..."

The three were the appointed representatives of the HELLSING organization; Its self-recognized purview was anything that involved tentacles, space squid, purple portals to a nightmare dimension, and keening wails that seemed to come from nowhere. Since the previous test had produced all of those effects it had been only a short period of time before one of their distinctive craft had arrived in the system to investigate. They were all addressed and known by their ranks - Mystic-Corporal, Mystic-Corporal, and Mystic-Sergeant - which seemed to mean they were attached to an army of some kind. That all three were wearing heavy armor that seemed a cross of the archaic and the high-tech bore this out but between them they had said nothing but what was necessary to confirm their assignment and duties aboard the Apexis. No explanation was necessary and none was given.

They were there to monitor the tests and given the way the previous had ended, the solution to limiting the need for their presence was obvious and the modifications made to the warheads had been laid aside. That wasn't to say there weren't other experiments that could be performed but, as the stoic warrior-monks admitted, math wasn't evil and so they had pressed on to another potential application.

Instead of a pair of asteroids, a single detached warp nacelle now floated some distance away from the Apexis. An even more reasonably healthy distance, as it were, and the tests had been moved so far outside of the core of the Elysium System that Deep Space was now only a literal stones throw away. The nacelle - warp was something of a misnomer since it contained not only the space-warp system but the gravity drive and their shared components - had been modified with the addition of its own power plant and control system in the form of a shuttle that would now ride on top of the nacelle like a theme park performer atop a dolphin. Unlike the warhead, which had required extensive physical modification due to its single-use nature, almost all of the modifications to the new arrangement were on the software side with Doctor Brilla's formulas modifying just how the system projected the artificial gravity fields that allowed it to bend and fold space to its will.

Which should have been ample warning by itself.

"Local space is clear," the Sensor Officer began, and one-by-one each station began to read off ready with the corrisponding status light - or series of them - moving from red to yellow on the test stand hologram that hovered next to the main display. The Lieutenant at Engineering finished off the role-call with a long glance over his shoulder to the watching representatives who replied with nothing but quick direct eye contact and then a return to their all-encompassing survey of the bridge and the various holographic displays.

For the Captain, their presence was somewhat of a quandary. Understandably, the role of HELLSING was to prevent the intrusion into this universe by things from another that sought to control and dominate the denizens of her own. That was generally understood to be a Bad Thing, but their presence was verging on the question of authority as well. All in all, Typhani would have rathered that they stayed aboard their own ship to monitor and observe rather than stand around the bridge of her ship like a trio of Political Officers from 1950's Soviet Russia. The argument had been made - and backed up by strong suggestions from Fleet - that they were the best equipped to deal with any problems that might arise and that they should just be allowed to do their job while she does hers. Which meant that she was determined to keep this her ship until exactly that.

"All status reads yellow," the Oeie announced in her best 'I'm in charge here!' tone. "Commander Brown, run us through the process, if you would?"

"Sure, Captain. So, this test will be pretty simple. Just a quick here to there trip, figure out how long it took, see how that compares across the board to the profile of the non-modified system, and see what we can improve on for another experiment."

The control flight had been quick and easy and had resulted in the nacelle with attached performer ending up right where it was. The goal would be to send it back to where it had been. Originally the test plan had called for sending the ship from one side of the system to the other since that would have put it in the range of any number of sensor platforms that would have helped to provide redundant data for fact-checking. That plan had been altered with the improvised starship just skimming the edge of the system; To continue the analogy the thrown stone would skip a couple times rather than sink to the middle.

"Start it up, then, Mr. Brown," she ordered, deliberately not even turning her head or eyes from her subordinate to the lurking HELLSING men.

"Right! So, all systems yellow to green then," and for the next few seconds he waiting nervously as the final checks went through. Then there was that terrible, awful moment as they all waited for a spiraling mass of green tentacles to erupt from the void around them to wrap the Apexis in an erotic embrace that would put the kinkiest smut-peddler from Sslaa VI to shame.

"You know, we haven't even done the countdown," Brown realized after a butt-clenching wait. "Count-down for sixty seconds."

Time ticked and dribbled and slowly swam by until '...five...four...three...two...one...' and the long teardrop of the nacelle stretched out to disappear like a snapped rubber band into the abyss of the stars.

It would take only a few seconds for it to cross the test distance and Commander Brown turned to the monitoring console, expecting to see the in-progress results, but his view was blocked by the great gray bulk of something diving between him and the station. The Mystic-Sergeant was in motion; A long dive that had started from a stock-stillness that had moved through the space occupied by the Commander's previous breath and ended with a shoulder roll that brought him to a poised kneel beside one of the forward-most stations. A young woman had been sitting there, dutifully watching the console as she'd gone about whatever task she'd been assigned, but now the archaic long-sword that had been kept at his side was slung out to perfect stillness and her head was tumbling to the deck in slow-motion horror. The other two had not moved an inch or even a whisper.

"Wha..."

The half-breathed word was long enough for the blade to move again and the paper-crisp shell of the woman's torso slid off the lower to reveal a writhing mass of purple-grey isopods that hissed and screamed as the light fell on them. In a moment they were gone, sizzling away into dust and smoke as the outer skin fell away in ragged ribbons. At the core of the creature was a thick tube of green and brown flesh, now neatly trisected by the sword, and this was all that remained as the rest vanished into whatever hellish dimension had spawned it. It slumped, dropped off the chair with a wet plop and a splash of black ichor, and then a momentary sparkle of purple light consumed it.

"How..."

"Her reflection in the glass changed," a massive hand pointed to the console, "Revealing her true form. I will now determine how long it has been among your crew," the Senior Sergeant pronounced with a finality capped by the solid chunk of his rune-decorated blade sliding back into the scabbard.

[Sunset]

SDF-Ojeni, Capuchin Debris Belt, The Delta Quadrant...

"Let's see what we've got," Doctor Prescott began as the drone that, for the moment, housed a static version of his consciousness stepped up to the table. "Starting with the obvious; Flexible space suit with some hard armor plates."

He left this part to the technician who stood across from him. Catches were discovered and unlatched, seals were opened, and the outermost layer was peeled away to reveal yet another as well as expose the being inside to the replicated air of the shuttle cabin for the first time. The exact mixture had been created from a sample drawn from inside the suit, but there was always the chance it might affect the subject negatively which was part of why the Doctor was there. That and professional interest of course; Moving from the relative normality of a trauma center to a starship's medical ward was the best way for the Doctor to reach the front lines of galactic exploration.

Under the suit was another standard of space travel for those expecting danger, a ribbed skin-tight vacuum suit that gave them their first real look at the person underneath. Broadly feminine in appearance, she had a slim build with humanoid features and her chest was rising and falling slowly. Whether that was a positive indication or not, it was regular enough to Prescott that it didn't seem a sign of distress. The medical monitor overhead, with the hologram hovering just under it and the numbers sprayed out across the unconscious form seemed to match his diagnosis but this was a new species and the equipment could only supplement his intuition.

"Hope this isn't expensive." He began to probe around what looked like seams and found that the shears wouldn't be initially needed as a broad closure down the front allowed the majority of the garment to be removed without moving what he thought of as the patient overly much. "Physical description..."

"Subject appears female, one-point-six-seven meters in height with a body weight of forty-two-point-six-nine kilograms. Readings over the past five minutes seem nominal and will be treated as baseline for the time being. Features of obvious interest are the hands, which have three long fingers and an equally long thumb and the feet, which are very close to Human except for toes that extend to the middle of the arch. There is a thick and pronounced pad of a cartilage analog on the back of the heel. Limbs are within Human proportion, intended strictly as a baseline comparison."

More holograms appeared that compared the subject's limb length, proportions, and other features to the uncovered galactic averages as well as specific examples. These would be added to the overall record of the examination that would shortly be relayed back to Republic Space and then to educational institutions far beyond.

"A bit embarrassing, true," the Doctor murmured, considering the implications, "But after firing on us, you're quite lucky this wasn't post-mortem. Very lucky."

For most of the rest of the crew, it had proven the opposite as the Marines had been overall unlucky. Several had been killed outright, a few more had died of injuries sustained, and there were two more that would undergo the same examination. Marine UHCVs didn't take casualties; They just needed repair.

"On to the most interesting feature," his tone rose and steadied. "The facial features are similarly near-Human with a notably missing nose. The mouth and lips are thin but there is again a small pad of cartilage in the middle of the top and bottom lip under the skin. The teeth are largely more pointed than our own with the front top and bottom being serrated with two sharp incisors on both sides top-and-bottom. There is no hair; A broad, rounded flap of skin, fatty tissue, and cartilage runs over the crown and back of the head and down the back. This splits half-way along the length and then rejoins to end in a blunt taper. There are more cartilage deposits under the skin in a seemingly random pattern that may serve as identification."

"Ears are blunt and close to the head and a large vessel begins at the lowest point where an earlobe would be on a baseline Human. This continues down the side of the neck and under the skin of the chest but on top of the bones and muscles. At the chest it swells, taking on the appearance of a Human breast, but it does not appear to satisfy a mammary function as there are no nipples or other feeding features. There is a broad slit down the inside swell of both - I'll return to this in a moment - but the vessel then narrows rapidly to end in a blunt taper similar to that on the subject's head and back. Again, there is a small collection of sub-cutaneous deposits that vary from side to side and may be suitable for identification. Returning to the slits on the breasts..."

He ran a mechanical finger up one to separate the skin and expose the interior. This was dark purple and as he watched the hair-like tissue moved with her slow breath.

"At a broad guess, these structures are possibly a filter of some kind and the only respiratory orifices. Given the shape of the chest cavity and the capable lungs, it would appear these are not breathing apparatus but possibly a large filtering organ. Whether this is the case will be hard to determine without questioning; Reasonably they would not include a toxic element in an artificial atmosphere. This could also be a filter-feeding mechanism but the internal scans do not show a link between this vessel and the digestive tract."

It was time to move down and finish off the physical description and his tone shifted to that of the detached observer; Even in the sexually liberated Republic, jokes and embarrassment about reproductive functions were still common. That this recording might soon be in use in a classroom made his presentation important.

"Finally, the subject..." He paused and checked again. "Appears to have no genitalia. There is a single opening for waste elimination but nothing that appears to satisfy a reproductive or sexual function."

Looking up to examine the holographic representation of the interior of the body, he traced out the various systems before once again coming to the same conclusion.

"Interesting. A full examination of the reproductive system will have to wait for an autopsy of one of the deceased. The examination is now concluded, Doctor Franklin Prescott presiding, Chief Medical Officer, SDF-Ojeni."

----

"What do you mean, they're pregnant?!"

"Of a sort," Prescott shrugged, continuing his explanation to the Captain. "I went to pull one of the corpses for autopsy and the scans showed activity. A closer look - a lot closer - and I found active cell division in several sites where there had been mystery organs on the scan. I'd now broadly equate these to seeds; Once the individual's biological activity ends a trigger of some kind activates these organs and reproduction begins."

"Great!" Kami threw her hands up in mock despair. "I went lesbian so I wouldn't even have the chance of getting pregnant..."

"Did you see Silaco Electronics pregnancy pill?" Franklin interjected, "It's ideal for..."

"No! No, no, no. No. Sloan and I... Never mind! But now you're telling me I'm about to be a mom by proxy?! Great. Just... Great. Tell Engineering to build-out one of the spare cabins into a nursery," she sighed.

[Sunset]

Villa Villanova, Ares...

*Boom*

*Boom*

The breech dropped and twin shells popped high in the air to be replaced with fresh, the lock clicking closed again just as the empties clinked together into Fidelo's open palm. He pocketed them and raised the shotgun to his shoulder just as the blonde woman behind him spoke.

"You've heard about the Niagara?"

"I have."

There was a tightness to his jaw and tone that was reflected in the quick spin and toss of two pigeons from the launcher at their feet and the near-instant response of the antique shotgun, the barrel twitching low to buck twice. Shattered clay tumbled to the lawn and the still-tight bidshot tore a pair of long brown stripes through the grass.

"The ZMI Long Patrol is headed back to port with the survivors and captives. The Sessool ran as soon as they showed up;" The Niagara had been jumped by a squadron of Sessool warships as she waited for the arrival of a ZMI long range patrol at one of their scheduled stops. "She was ready to fight and she gave as good as she got, but... Fidelo, I don't want you going out there."

Once again he changed out the shells before couching the gun under his arm, "Is that an order?"

"No, I..." There was a certain odd aspect of equivalency between the two - one the Secretary-General and the other a former President. By the ranks he was only an Admiral but that was by his own preference; Enough to bring the weight of the Republic to bear when needed but not so much as to spend all his time managing people. "I'm only going to ask. There's every chance that they though it was your ship."

"I'd have rather it been the Nile," he nearly snarled. "Things would have been different."

"You don't know that."

"A rookie Captain? And Taev should have never sat in that chair... Hell yes, things would have been different."

He should have been sorry for the jab at the previous captain of the lost explorer but he wasn't and didn't. The warning signs were there, right in her file, and the only redemption she had was her heroic self-sacrifice after her shuttle - which shouldn't have been out there in the first place - had been shot down.

Hypocritical?

Yes.

He'd been in similar situations before but the first he'd not had more than his own skin to worry about and in those after he'd had the experience to make the right call in the right moment. But hypocrisy just covered up for anger; He'd known people on the Niagara, people he hoped had made it through.

"What are we going to do?"

"Be careful. Do the intelligent thing and put this into the hands of the Intelligence side of things. We'll see if things calm down and go from there. I don't think we need to be waging a war thirty-thousand light years from home."

"And you're willing to bet they aren't either..."

"Yes. So, stay away from Sessool. Please."

[Sunset]

Harries Bar, K'ryanos Shadowport, Somewhere in Captain Graycock's Head...

It was a familiar scene the galaxy over painted out in exquisite detail from his own memory. Heavy feet leaden with drink and a memory-draining hangover stumbled to the bottom of the stairs to send him out into the morning bustle of one of his favorite watering holes. As he stood, one hand braced against a column for his own support, details filled themselves in from his own memory of things just as they were.

As they should be.

A long bar made of real wood - the rest of the surfaces were metal or plastics pulled from a dozen sources from ships to offices - along the back end and tables scattered around the rest. The ceilings were low and dark; The space was built into a hidey-hole under a landing bay and every so often an ominous creaking reminded the patrons of that fact. What other decorations there were were sparse. Just a few bits and pieces; The commission plaque from a warship no one could read, the propeller from a very old plane, and a few charts and maps in various states of decay and accuracy.

A scattering of patrons quarter-filled the room with half of these sitting around a single table. It was in one corner, close to the bar and with a single seat open in the corner. His seat, both by rank and force of arms. A good place to keep an eye on the rest of the room and to have the rest of the room keep an eye on him. It was also the best seat in the place; An office chair from the private domain of some executive, it had been liberated by his loyal crew as an appropriate throne for their Captain.

"Morning, Captain," his Mate called out, the rest of the crew looking up to give him due respect as he rounded the table and sank into the leather embrace with a sigh. Familiar faces all but there was something odd. Something that said they should be doing something or be somewhere else. "How did the night treat you?"

He didn't remember the night but suddenly the waitress was there with a drink and his favorite breakfast and as the wonderful smell of braised korvad filled his senses he forgot all about it as he dug in.

"Was a fun night without you, Cap'n," one of the crew interjected, "Some of the crew o' the Terrible came in and we had a bit of a punch-up over a spare comment."

She was a rough-looking one, with none of the beauty that would have made her worth keeping off the deck, and a brutal shiner did nothing to help.

"Aye, and if you'd have been here we would have managed to space 'em," the Mate adding, "But as it were we drove 'em right back to the guns of their own ship!"

Something ticked over in his head and dimly Graycock remembered the sounds of fighting as though muffled by the walls. Screams, the sound of furniture tossed around, and somehow the soul-wrenching noise of a woman's spine being pulled out through her pelvis. He looked sharply at the woman but she seemed to be alright and he returned to his plate.

"What's our plans for the day, Captain?" The Mate looked down to his own, which was mostly gone. "I checked in just before you got up and the ship is ready to sail. Full load of provisions an' fuel. We can go wherever you like and find us a new adventure..."

It was at that moment that something new chose to present itself. The sound of heavy feet on the stairs and they turned to look as a robed and hooded figure stepped carefully down followed closely by two black-armored guards. A finger, long and scaled, motioned the two to attention at the foot of the stairs and the intruder drifted up to the table to stand opposite. The face under the cowl was not immediately familiar to the Captain; Scaled and half-pointed, he or she was one of any number of Reptilian species that he'd met in his travels. Yellow eyes glanced around the table before fully settling on him.

"Captain," it seemed to have a hard time with the honorific, either with the saying or the pronunciation, "Graycock, I would speak to you on behalf of my Prince."

"Who is..."

There was not even a glimmer of recognition of the Reptilian, the black-armored guards, or the Prince he spoke of and this was reflected in a universal shrug from his crew as they looked to the Captain for guidance and then back to the stranger with a bit more menace in their eyes. There at least they had an answer and the alien hissed out a name that sounded far more complex than it needed to be, "...Trade Prince of the Sessool, Ruler of Fernethon."

"...nope, no idea;" There was not even a glimmer in his head, a face to go with the name, or even a random conversation overheard in another bar. "What does your Prince want?"

"He has a message for you..." The Reptilian form shrank and dissolved, turning into a far more familiar form as a hand reached out to grab a dusty, rusty old fire extinguisher that hung behind a broken glass panel. She swung - in the blink of an eye she swung - and the closest crewman lost her face and most of her head as the metal cylinder made bone-shattering contact. A braced foot kicked the table away and sent the Mate and another pirate tumbling backwards to leave only one man between Captain and the rampaging Dwarf. "He says yer an asshole..."

Air whistled past the bloody barrel as it swung again, circling up between the remaining man's legs to end with a wet sound that ensured he would never reproduce if he didn't bleed out shortly. Graycock scrambled back, hands searching for a weapon, anything, but all he could come up with was a table knife and the assassin was much too fast. A spinning kick knocked it from his hand and metal glittered to cross the room and end the life of the bartender with a twist. He held up his hands, barely aware of the shattered fingers that had held the impromptu weapon, and there was a pleading moment in his eyes that almost made her laugh.

"No! Stop!"

His eyes flickered to either side, looking for help from somewhere, anywhere.

"Ha! They're all dead, you know... Already dead."

Something changed and the bodies on the ground shifted. What she had done to them was replaced by something worse; Graphic deaths that had left them shattered and ruined with some not even recognizable as people.

"Why?!"

"I'd say revenge," she reached through the objecting hands and grabbed him by the shirt collar to pull him up and barely to his feet, "But that would be a lie. Truthfully," she shook him until he looked her in the eye. There was nothing there, no fury, no sadness. Just a dark glitter that said... "Truthfully, I just like killing people."

The nozzle of the fire extinguisher erupted from his back, followed by the bright red shoulders of the cylinder, and he stumbled back to his feet to clutch at the flat end. Blood rose in his vision and he looked up just as the Dwarf faded away as if she'd never been there.

----

"Ah wonder if that old thing about people dyin' in their dreams is really true," Meli said as she yanked the neural interface cable out of the port at the base of her skull. Behind her, stretched out in the enclosed chamber of the surgical suite, Graycock thrashed as the robotic arms tried to restrain him. "Guess Ah'll find out."

"I'm not sure why we let you wander around in public," Ivy sighed. "We got the answers we needed; The rest of it was completely unnecessary."

"Didn't hurt anyone I care about..." Meli shrugged. "Besides, we don't know for sure. Just cause they weren't talking to Graycock doesn't mean they..."

*Beep beep beep beep beeeeeeee...*

They both looked back to the cylinder but Meli spoke first; "Huh. Guess you can."