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

[Sunset]

SDF-Ixutsangi, GEC-492971Cb, En Route to the Therian Hegemony...

"...you will need an intermediary," Zu offered, her voice a silky whisper. The tone matched her slow footsteps around the object of her physical attention with each moving her predatory form just a breath closer or a hands-width further away from the young Cyar. She was intertwining with him - though not touching for longer than a moment - arms and hands and legs draped over him to put him in the middle of a near-embrace. It was hard to deny her erotic beauty; A head taller than Lae, her stony gray skin was off-set by ragged red and gray markings that turned her sleek, sensual body nearly feral in appearance. A single slowly spiraling horn swept back along each jawline towards the ear and another just rounded the skin of her nose to emerge and join a shallow crest of others that swept back to merge with a long mane of luxurious slate blue hair.

"The Therians have grown cautious of outsiders. Only those they know well are allowed to approach their holdings and fewer still are allowed to speak to them in person. And you," she paused, her scarlet-slashed face just above his and her full gray lips nearly touching his own carefully still pair, "Are.. tainted ..by your contact with the Kinslayers." The way her tongue rolled as she pronounced the word deemed it something both foul and desired, as heady and dangerous as the darkest liquor.

"How do you know that?"

"Because your scent," her nostrils flared for a moment, the primal gesture intoxicating as she took in his aroma, "Is strong with them. Just as this one," Zu turned her head to look at Trinya through heavy yellow eyes, "Is strong with that of the women he has lain with."

This left Lae to gaze into the dark depths of the woman's fitted jumpsuit with only shadowy shapes hinting at what lay underneath and giving Trinya all the more reason to glare back. From the moment the Kazskian had left her slender crimson spacecraft to come aboard, Zu had hardly taken her eyes off Lae. Though she hadn't said as much her behavior was less a matter of desire than of presumption and this was what grated the most.

"I will accompany you; They trust me... And in return this one will be mine."

"Oh, really..." The brunette crossed her hands in front of her chest and leaned back, daggers flying from her eyes to the other.

"Do not object, young one," she said, deliberately looking away from Trinya and down at the face of her desire, "He will return to you if he loves you, will he not? He has in the past... Many times."

Trinya looked around the small recreation alcove where the two had been cornered looking for support of some kind but, baring an Augmented call for help, she was on her own; Undoubtedly just how the temptress had wanted it when she had begun stalking her prey.

"And why would you not want this? He is handsome and full of vigor, but young men lack distinction. I," she ran a hand along his chin, turning his face up to hers, "Will teach him this and then, presuming your merits are strong enough..."

Zu turned back to her and Trinya felt suddenly a lot more average compared to the exotic beauty of the grey-skinned woman.

"...he will return to you better than he was. All for the cost of a few nights alone. Is this not a reasonable bargain?"

But she had put her lean, sensual form between her and him, her back pressed up against him to hide him away and her arms wrapped around him to keep him that way. With that, there was only the impression that, no matter what she did, he would only return when he was finally cast away to be replaced with another.

"We could share..." Lae's suggestion was tentative, though Trinya was tempted to reach out and slap the small tinge of hope out of his voice. But she kept still and only the Kazskian answered, "Silly boy... Zu does not share. She takes what she is given and she enjoys it to the fullest. But decide; Will you give him to me? I can smell his lust - he wishes for you to agree. You will gain the protection of my presence and if your fates smile on you..."

"We could just pay you," the Ensign objected again, though she knew it wouldn't do any good. She'd seen the clean lines of the dagger-like spacecraft and caught a glimpse inside the luxurious interior when she'd boarded. There was little the woman could want for except for whatever she happened to desire, "Why him?"

For a moment, and just for a moment, she seemed on the verge of telling her but then she ran her tongue around her lips and turned to walk away, hips swaying, "Because..."

[Sunset]

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

"Do you want my opinion as a Doctor or my opinion as an ex-wife?"

Dr. Wilt, or at least the projected hologram of the grey-haired woman with the stern half-frown of a woman used to both giving unpleasant news and unpleasant orders, stood at the edge of the Ambassador's desk while Demi, stripped to her panties, sat on it. It wasn't necessary for the examination - the scanner built into the three-dimensional replicator that was itself built into a corner was more than capable of gathering the general health of a patient - but Mona was an old fashioned doctor. At least when she was playing doctor instead of chief executive.

"Ex-wife? That doesn't sound encouraging..."

"Mhm. The plain truth is, it will never be a surprise. Erika can pick up your pulse, your respiration, your pupil dilation - all of that from across the room. She'll know when you're lying or when you're trying to keep a secret. Even if she doesn't just pick up the transmissions from the device. She might choose not to because she loves you and respects your privacy, but she also loves you and wants to make sure you're okay. In a marriage, being open about things is important. Don't spring this on her - even if you think she wants it, it's better to know rather than to get to that moment and find out an uncomfortable otherwise."

"I think she does," Demi reached for her blouse. In the unreasonably hot and humid weather, the built-in bra in the otherwise loose garment was about the only thing she could stand next to her skin. "But I want it to feel natural."

"That doesn't mean it needs to be a surprise, or at least not completely. There's a function that will initiate pregnancy after a random qualifying event. That's about as close to natural as you can get without adding all the heterosexual components."

"Random qualifying event?"

"Orgasm. After that it's just up to you and your partner to determine your activity level - just like a typical heterosexual pregnancy - and your chances of becoming pregnant over a given period."

"Orgasm? Can you set it lower? Cause..." Demi grinned but Mona failed to blush at all; "Of course. I've also sent you a configuration file that will set the donor's genetic profile to Erika's or at least something that would match hers if she had DNA. You'll also miss your next menstrual cycle; It harvests your ovum and holds it in chemical stasis until either the next cycle or the pregnancy function activates. Which means that," Dr. Wilt paused while she checked her patient's chart, "You've got at least two weeks before you can become pregnant."

This was required to save size; While devices such as the Baby-In-A-Box that the Baby Pill was based on could create an implanted ovum from scratch this required some relatively bulky apparatus. To maintain the pill-sized form factor, that element had been replaced with the mentioned harvester function.

"Alright, thanks Doctor. Everything going okay out there? Anything you need an Ambassador for?"

"No;" The corporate headquarters for Saint Medical, and thus Dr. Wilt's office, was on far-off Notch. The colony was the closest Republic world to a number of civilizations, both volatile and not, and the occasional diplomatic problem popped up. "Unless the Admiral hasn't been telling me about something. But tell her, okay?"

The hologram put a hand just on Demi's shoulder and she nodded, "I will..."

[Sunset]

GEC-99791B 'Alice', The Coreward Fringe...

"Agent Praise..."

The flop-earred bunny with a sandy brown coat and a near-camouflage pattern of white blotches down one side turned around and nearly jumped out of her skin as a Cyclopian monster appeared out of nowhere just a few feet away, "Oh, holy shit! Err," her eyes went to the head sitting on the folding field table behind her and she reached out a hand to grab it by the hair and swing it behind her back, a guilty look crossing her face at the same time before she swept it away to look up wide-eyed and hopefully innocent looking. "That's me!"

"Lieutenant Cartwright, Marine Division Delta. I've been sent to bring you and," he leaned to one side but she shifted to scoot the head just a bit further behind her fluffy tail, "You and Agent Meli in. This operation has been terminated and you are to..."

Then he was gone again. Dusty gray armor rippled and was replaced with the brown canvas of the field tent as he stepped back and into the corner as the flap swept aside to admit two of her soldiers. There was still a trace left; The Ghostdragon's optic camouflage couldn't erase the shadow cast by the overhead halogen light but he had minimized it into the already-darker corner. Still she kept an eye on his position as the two rabbits saluted and she returned it with a nod, putting the Dwarf's head carefully back on the desk as if it were a paper - or map, in this case - weight.

"Sir!" They were both young and enthusiastic and even better naive and had fallen in with her plans of conquest willingly. "Reports are in from the southern front. One clan has agreed to join us - the Ker'Fre - and another is willing to entertain negotiations, but they want to talk to you personally!"

"It's a trap," Praise sighed and the two looked at each other; Naive indeed.

"A scouting report just came back," She turned to indicate the map and a handful of shorthand notes along with some drawings made by the scouts. "The Twe'Pen have pulled their patrols in and moved their women and children to a fortified bunker. They anticipate a fight, and this confirms it. They want me out in the open so they can kill me and try to take over."

"Do we attack then?" The younger of the two suggested, a righteous gleam in his eye.

"The Cow'Pen shot at our envoy and drove him off. They don't seem to want to talk either way..."

"Of course they would," Praise nodded. "They might have their differences, but the Cow'Pen and the Twe'Pen are related by blood. They're probably working with the Two'Pen; If I go in, the Two attack and the Cow moves to cut off any reinforcement. But we don't need a fight on that front right now."

She sighed and shook her head, but not for the reason the two officers might have thought. She wanted to get out of there and the Marine was waiting, just behind them, to whisk her and Meli's head away to safety. But she had to play this straight. A firefight with the Marine involved would be extremely dangerous.

"Let's mess with them. Tell them I'm coming down there and give them a... Two day time-frame. Let them make all the preparations they want and we'll leave them high and dry. Maybe they'll start fighting if they think the other clan sold them out."

"Send a present?"

"Yes!" The older of the two, a chocolate black rabbit with a single white-lined ear agreed. "To the Cow'Pen. The Twe'Pen will think we've turned the Cow. Maybe. They're family..."

"Tactical fruit basket then," she nodded her agreement and made a note to make it all look official. "Get on that right away," she pointed to the door and the bunnies cleared out.

"You know," Cartwright spoke up almost as soon as the flap had stopped moving, "Those two could take over whatever it is you're planning here." Optics dropped away once again and the suit, to her surprise, turned around and began to open up. The backside unfurled like a morning flower and a second later she was able to step inside before it closed again. An armored hand scooped up Meli before the whole thing - minus the head - faded away again to leave the odd image of a disembodied Dwarf head floating in mid-air. 'Make a big mess of things...'

[Sunset]

The Secretary-General's Office, SDF-Unconquered Sun, GEC-99791B 'Alice', The Coreward Fringe...

"I can't say I'm particularly pleased with the results of this experiment so far," Erika crossed her arms under her chest and leaned back in her chair to look over the representatives of the three different parts of the research task force. Research was heavily in quotes; Only the scientists had failed to put a direct plan into action and thus maintain the status of researchers. "And in a couple instances it has progressed from research through theory and into aggressive implementation. I want to encourage initiative..."

But.

Clearly allowing the Intelligence portion of the task force a long lead had resulted in an unacceptable level of chaos. Alice had been chosen specifically because it was already chaotic and functionally ungoverned but aside from the Anathema agents, other portions of the Intelligence services had sown their own brand of mischief across a wide swath of the planet. The lone bright spot was the suggested plan of action put forward by Fleet and that drew heavily on the advice of the remaining researchers.

"Lieutenant Commander, your plan to introduce family planning to the local culture with an eye towards population stability is a reasonable approach. But it sounds like that has led to something of an expansion on that idea so... Let's hear it?"

"Essentially, I would like to do the opposite of what our counterparts in the the ICS do. Instead of imposing specific aspects of Imperial culture - some of which are admirable and others not - I would like to present the local civilization with our culture and the advantages it brings and encourage those who see the benefits to seek us out. Incorporate our expertise with their experience," Doctor Evans explained. He was the head of the research division of the task force and an oddly disinterested looking young man in his early thirties. This affection carried over to his tone and mannerisms; As important as the project presented was, he seemed completely uncaring as to whether it succeeded or not.

"Currently we have a partial method in place to do this; The DOODs;" that was Diplomatic Office, Orbitally Deployed. These small-scale outposts were the equivalent of a diplomatic consulate and allowed access to a full range of Triumvirate diplomatic services. "But these lack the kind of facilities that would be needed to make rapid societal changes possible. Taking the current example, while we can introduce family planning this might require medication or other specific goods or services that would not be available. Thus what I'm proposing is an enhanced single method-of-contact. A temple, if you will allow me to dip into the crude, that attracts the believers so that they can both benefit and spread the word to others of the advantages of higher-level civilization."

[Sunset]

Office Tour, Liquid Design Headquarters, Mars...

"The days of designing on paper with slide rule and pencil are long gone, consigned to the wastebin of industrial history," Mr. Galafinakis explained as he led the small group of new employees through the open office space. It wasn't a truly open space but nor was it completely closed but instead a mixture of open spaces where workers could congregate to collaborate, meeting rooms where they could avoid the distractions of the common area, and individual offices where one or two could focus. The decorations, as befitting a company of Liquid's stature, were lavish and individual with artwork in every space and each designed to fit the function of any group size. Technology in various forms was in use everywhere but it was understated and typically very task-oriented. The only bit of flash was the on-going fleet battle between holographic mock-ups of various Liquid-designed ships that occupied the space in the high rafters where the flash and sparkle of energy weapons and ribbon-like volleys of missiles could be mostly ignored.

"Even computer-aided design has mostly gone out the window. Our designers now mostly focus on specifications; What an individual system or group of systems needs to do and how it does it. This is then interpreted by an in-house AI - she's been here as long as the company has been around - into a physical design that meets those needs. There is then give-and-take with the various systems competing for space, resources - how much the end-product will cost and how much of that ends up going to each sub-system - and head-space."

He stopped at a large conference table in the center and gave an example, pulling up a model for a sporty-looking but essentially average consumer vehicle; "This hovercar is being updated for the new model year by the manufacturer. Liquid had been contracted to make some modifications based on our in-house design expertise. Sometimes the modifications are as simple as 'I need an engine capable of lifting the current design to a flight ceiling of twenty thousand feet under Earth-normal gravity and atmospheric conditions.'

In front of their eyes, the holographic image began to change as plans were detailed out based on the specifications provided but suddenly a host of question marks began to appear as well. Some marked physical changes that could be made to the design and bodywork while others were data points; Price, range, and similar.

"These are where the ideas and innovations of new designers, like yourselves, will be important. Sometimes these points are absolute, sometimes they aren't, and sometimes there are ways to innovate and give the customer exactly what they want."

Another hologram, this time of a much larger design; A Defense Forces Dawn-Class Dreadnought that had been stripped down to a wireframe.

"Here's a good example of what I mean. Aboard a spaceship - of any kind - water is very important. With no sources of outside water all you have is what you can carry. But water tanks and their service equipment is bulky and awkward. On a ship like this with a lot of curves and corners you'll quickly run out of places to put a huge system like that." He touched the controls and an illustrative hologram of a very industrial looking water containment, recycling, and distribution unit appeared. "Try fitting this in, along with all the other systems, and Kayna - that's the AI's name..."

He turned and looked over to a couch where a blue-haired woman sprawled out with another designer chatting with her across a coffee table seemingly strewn with mugs until one looked closer to realize they were under the glass and thus part of the artwork. A wave and she answered with one of her own, "There she is. But she'll start pointing you towards something like what the Akashans have. Big boxes, very efficient, but not very stylish. The Defense Force wants stylish but it also wants the best value for its money so that means making innovative use of the space we have."

A section of the starship was highlight and magnified; "Which is what some bright spark - me, in my younger days - did. These sharp corners often ended up as wasted space or crowded with small sub-systems that would have been more efficient when larger. So we put the water there. All of these odd shapes, ever since then, have been fitted with thick bags that then expand out to fill the available interior space. These are then hooked up to the regular water distribution system and more than satisfy the water requirements of the crew and the odd water-needing sub-system. But innovation doesn't stop and someone else took my idea and turned it in a whole new direction. They rigged up the maintenance port to also act as a spray unit. If, somehow, the ship is ever boarded they can evacuate all the internal corridors to vacuum. If a boarder trips their way past one of these, they can be vented and either freeze the attackers in place or pin them down while the automated defenses," he pointed to a drum-shaped unit mounted above the light fixture at the corridor junction, "Eliminates the threat."

"And there were other benefits. By distributing the water all over the ship, it changed the movement dynamics. It no longer has to compensate for a huge water tank - or multiple - in one location. Innovation. That's your job. Which is also why you're the newest of the new," he pointed to each in turn, most of who were from the newest species introduced to the Republic. "You have new ways of thinking about things. New ideas. You might have the next balloon water tank and you might not but all it takes is one. One great idea that will lead to the next and the next. No pressure, right?"

[Sunset]

SDF-Ojeni, En Route to the Capuchin System, The Delta Quadrant...

"Here we go," The Eye scattered a claw-full of devices across the briefing room table. "Fresh off the printer. These will interact with your AR;" Augmented Reality, "To allow you to speak with these guys. Whatever they call themselves. Which we still don't know because we can't talk to them yet."

Kami scooped one up and pressed it onto the upper breast of her uniform. Whoever had designed the guts of the device, they - or someone else - had also taken the time to fashion a shell that looked like the Republic sunburst over a swooping arc that mimicked the look of a familiar fictional logo, "Cute." It was backed with gekkoweb and stuck securely to the matching fabric that formed the upper portion of the uniform's jacketed blouse. Unlike that device, with its more primitive voice interface, there was a quick handshake and after a mental acknowledgement it was linked directly into her own cybernetic communications suite. "One step down, a hundred more to go."

"And the next step is a doozy," Sloan answered, spinning her own badge on the table like a lop-sided coin. "Kidnapping one of them. Which we do... how?"

They'd been discussing the how since they'd left Liu Xiu. Organizing a support expedition to evacuate the entire civilization had been easy; They'd bitched and moaned how it would be impossible and how no one could do it and it would take forever and both she and Kami had felt like terrible hams but the Menelmacari Cultural Envoy had bought it hook, line, and sinker. If the Elves could be counted on for anything it was to make Humans look bad at every opportunity and thus there was a small armada of super-freighters heading towards the trade outpost with the default goal of displaying to any and all the might of the Eternal Noldorin Empire. Neither had mentioned that they didn't quite know if the poor unfortunates wanted to be rescued or that they didn't quite know how to talk to them either, but these things had a habit of solving themselves and a little time pressure was always a good thing, right?

Right.

"And I have an idea on just how to do that." Everyone turned to look at Commander Astau and the Centaur turned sideways to the table to prance for a moment while he ran a hand through his hair, composing his thoughts. "Now, we can't just waltz in there and have a shoot-out until we disable one of their vessels and grab the crew, right? That wouldn't be the best way to establish relations. We've already killed a few of them and while they were doing the attacking, I doubt they see it the same way. So, I'm thinking we need a non-violent solution and a very safe one at that. Outside of pulling up with an unstoppable armada that might just inspire them to mass suicide - depending on who they think we are - I'm thinking we get them to kidnap themselves."

"Kidnap," Kami began, with Sloan ending, "Themselves."

"How?" The Eye asked.

"Everything we need is in place," he waved a hand and a scattering of holograms appeared over the surface of the table. "So I'll just lay out the plan."

First he pointed to the ship - the raider vessel that they had disabled and that had been recovered, along with its undercover cargo of intelligence assets - that still sat in the hidden settlement's hangar.

"We start with a fake distress signal. Now, obviously we don't know how to send or format or even say what might be involved in faking a distress signal. But neither do we have to; We can send one and originate one from the ship itself. Something simple, something that says 'Hey, I'm still alive here'. A repeated signal, something like Morse Code and good old SOS. It appears on the screens - generated by our little IntelRats - and they go to take a look. Where do they look?" He pointed to the ragged chunk of World Ship hull where the raider had been disabled, lodged, and captured by the Ojeni, "Right here. They lost a few of their crew, after all, and it might just be possible that one or two survived and has now somehow managed to send a distress signal. Nothing complex; Just what they might be able to improvise using the comms gear in their hardsuits."

"We've still got a few bits and pieces of the suits," The Eye volunteered. "Rigging up a telegraph-style sending unit should be easy."

"They go take look," Astau nodded, "And head right into prepared ground. But we don't need to jump them. Now that we know what we're looking for and looking at, we can intercept their radiopathic communications while they are going about the language-intensive task of searching for a survivor. Move the signal around, keep them guessing, maybe throw some obstacles in their path..."

"Wow, that's so mean."

"Uh huh," Captain Blaine nodded, "Leading them on like that. But it's for a good cause. But that will give us a translation pattern, these," she patted her chest, "Will let us talk to them, and then we can introduce ourselves in a peaceful manner. Hopefully. We've still got the big question of how they got into that situation. Was it internal? External? Bad engineering..."

"Wouldn't be surprised," The Eye interjected.

"...or whatever it was. But its a good plan, Commander. Round up your people," she looked around the table, "And get them on the same page. We're not going to have a lot of time before the Elves get there."

In fact, it wouldn't much surprise her if they showed up and the Menelmacari were in the process of rebuilding the entire World Ship. Not one bit.

[Sunset]

Jer'Don, GEC-99791B 'Alice', The Coreward Fringe...

"Agent Praise has been re-assigned;" Or re-programmed and then re-assigned. Ivy wasn't sure which and she wasn't sure she wanted to know. Anathema agents signed a contract that was very much tilted towards the government and the agency with regards to where, how, and even who they would be during their assignments. While they were guaranteed to come out the same as they were when they went in - minus some memories and with a lot of cash - they weren't assured of anything on the inside. Including their survival. "So that's probably the last we'll see of her. Once again, and not to be an ass, but you're lucky to be alive."

"Ahn ah suppose yer gonna tell me that having her shoot me in the bahk and cut mah head off is lucky?"

"No."

Meli's fist slammed into the wall with enough force to leave it well and truly dented, "Ah like revenge and ah ain't gonna get it, ahm Ah?"

Fortunately for Ivy, she was on one side of the wall and the angry Murder-Dwarf was on the other. They were both in their new temporary digs; A recently vacated office tower in the city of Jer'Don. One of the few larger cities, the local Hauyht populace was just peaceful enough to give the idea of cultural shift serious - if short - consideration. It was still a violent place, however, with any number of clans and tribes still maintaining some level of feud that occasionally required bloodshed. This in turn required that the Republic's euphemistically titled Advisers be located and housed in a secure location near the government apparatus that they would be interacting with. The agents both had their own sleeping quarters in what had been individual offices and the outer office now served as a common area.

"At least you have a body again..."

"Ahn Ahm kinda wondering about that too. How do I have a body already? With all the bells and whistles even."

"Because I had one on hand. After the last episode of Dwarf Decapitation, I decided that it would be a good idea to have a spare," Ivy explained, wandering around to the door and unlocking it. Her own door locked from the inside but Meli was Meli and the room could also double as a cell if they needed to hold a prisoner. That the Dwarf lived simply was a bonus; Aside from a rock-hard mattress that she claimed was 'soft as down', there was nothing in the space aside from dents in the walls and a barred window that faced an inner courtyard high above the city streets. Making an escape would be difficult - another ten stories up and then through the very wide streets preferred by the Hauyht. "You ready to come out?"

"No," Meli tore the door aside - sliding doors were the rule locally, "But I'm gonna. What are we doing now?"

"Focus on your work? Good idea. Constructive outlet. Well," Ivy generated some holograms and started to go through them while the Dwarf flopped into a chair that would be called a bean bag elsewhere but was again, common for the locals who liked to hunker down into it. "We're back on a short leash. The egghead plan is to institute a series of cultural and economic reforms that will push the local government to the top of the planetary heap. Family planning, infrastructure expansion, governance, that kind of thing. While they're busy trying to transform this place into a mini-Republic, we'll be watching their backs. Still plenty of problems that need to be solved on the down-low..."

[Sunset]

SDF-Ixutsangi, GEC-1010347, En Route to the Therian Hegemony...

The Ixutsangi dropped out of space-warp at a point that was almost but not quite at the unexplored star system's perfect galactic north. It was standard operating procedure; Arriving ships would avoid the vast majority of the orbiting Kuiper objects that tended to accumulate closer to the planetary disc. In the case of occupied systems, this would also create a clear path of travel; Incoming ships arrived from the north while outbound ships departed from the south. Not every star-faring civilization obeyed this rule, of course, which was why their course did not end at perfect north; Space was sufficiently vast that they would likely miss anything that happened to be in the area while still sticking to the broader procedure.

The arrival point would also, in the case of an exploring starship, give them a very useful top-down view of the entire system.

"Just as the Zsenyu indicated, Captain," the Sensor Officer announced as the first full returns began to come in. They'd known - broadly - what to expect but there was a difference between what the ship's sensor array could gather at faster-than-light speeds and what it could see when it had all the time in the world to look. "Just your average binary star system. One big, one medium, and a few gas giants right in the middle."

It was also, according to the nomadic traders, one of the last unoccupied systems before one entered the nearest edge of the Therian Hegemony. Occasionally one of their trade ships or scouts would stop in the system to harvest fuel from one of the gas giants and with a little bit of luck this would put the crew of the Ixutsangi in direct contact with the Therians before they entered the Hegemony's defensive perimeter.

Neither Trade Master Ibbenx nor Zu, the self-proclaimed Negotiator, had been able or willing to supply much more information than that. The Zsenyu had all confirmed that the Therians preferred to conduct their external trade at foreign ports and very rarely engaged in diplomacy, treating their current borders as absolute and status as fixed. The horned humanoid, on the other hand, hadn't said much of anything at all. She was leaning over the railing at the back of the bridge, both observing the undertakings and ignoring the Marine GhostDragon posted just behind her. The scarlet-striped woman had said very little since her bargain had been set out and there seemed to be an understanding that she would only give her help and advice once her condition had been met. Lae graced neither her arm or her quarters so she only watched and waited with a near-feline anticipation.

It was an anticipation warranted as a moment later the same Lieutenant called out another report; "Six ships, unknown type and designation, in orbit around the secondary gas giant." An image of the six, marked with green triangles to make them stand out against the black depths of space, appeared in the main holo-sphere almost the same moment as Captain Tarbell ordered it. One of the triangles flipped from green to blue and he continued, "The five are surrounding the sixth, which is much larger but doesn't appear to be armed."

"Nothing that looks particularly threatening to me," the Tactical Officer seconded. "But those others..."

"Therian patrol ships," Zu spoke suddenly, a note of warning in her voice. The Captain swung around to look up at her and she went on, "Odd for so many to be out this far."

"That looks like a freighter," Lieutenant Perkins, the officer at the Tactical station commented. A large-scale image appeared in the sphere along with markings and labels as he went through his conjecture. "Big and boxy, very space efficient, lots of hangars. Could be a merchantman, but unarmed out this far? Seems foolish."

"And why would they have it under their guns?" Turbell asked. "Take us in closer," he ordered, "And try to contact those ships."

The Ixutsangi slid forward and rolled, turning face down as she plunged into the heart of the system down the side of a mountain made of gravity. Orders were followed but as they closed the response was not what they expected.

"No response from the Therian ships. In fact, they are refusing our comms," Lieutenant Ahl'Get'It, a young ArAreBee woman with wide purple eyes and blue-grey skin answered. "I've got a reply from the center ship though and I'm running it through.." She paused, "Main screen."

Everyone who wasn't still working on some task turned to look just as a static image appeared. Either the video wasn't working yet or that had been all the unknown ship had been able to transmit but a moment later it was followed by a voice that seemed to match that of the rainbow-haired near-Human who stood - at least from the waist up - in front of an angled corridor filled with containers of all shapes and sizes.

'...colony ship out... ..Kirothian.. ..peaceful people...'

"I've seen them before," Timmons spoke up, nodding towards the image on the screen. "In the Special Projects database. One came in with a covert slave buy from the markets on Lethon. Kirothian though... I don't remember if that was the name."

Of the four regular members of the team, he was the only one on the bridge. Both because space was limited and because of their rank and relative inexperience with starship-level operations, the other three were observing from the comfort of the Seeker's quarters. They weren't alone; Nearly everyone who was off-shift had a screen or private hologram tuned in to events as they unfurled. Given the tension evident between the six ships some of the more cautious had begun to make their way to their designated battle stations.

"Starting point though," Turbell replied. "Yaddof, get on that. See if you can track down anything on these Kirothians. Keep trying the Therians... Unless things have shifted;" Timmons nodded in simultaneous agreement, "I don't see them holding a colony ship unless they have a damned good reason. I don't like it though," he turned to both the big Explorer and his own Executive Officer, Commander Pham. Sitting forward, he motioned them together for a huddled conversation.

"Here and now is too much of a coincidence. A single image," he looked out of the cluster to the Communications Officer, who indicated her agreement with his statement, "And a recording that sounds like it was made using a crystal radio set? I don't see any damage on that ship, and the Therians aren't jamming us. I'm not sure if this is a trap or something else, but we play it straight and keep our eyes open. Something's not sitting right here and if you figure out what, say so. Anything yet?" He sat back and looked to the Science station.

"The image matches that of a species known as the Sedrilin," the Elf announced. "The image closely matches that of a woman who was processed through the Special Projects facility on Denali. No particulars; Bought and sold as a child, grew up without parents or access to her own culture on an unidentified planet. Species confirmed through Intelligence reports from an off-the-books asset. No matches in GEC or other databases. I'm forwarding a request through allied channels but that could be a while. Only known example is living on the Ring as of right now in a Suunto enclave."

"So, either this one is lying, or there are a lot of identical rainbow-haired women out there." The Captain stood and looked around, catching eyes where he could, "As I said, and I'm sure you overheard, we're going to play this straight. If they are colonists and this is some kind of mistake, we're in a position to do something about it. If not, we'll feel better for making sure. But it's a risk, so battle stations and put your game faces on. Helm, put us inside that ring. Weapons hot. Let's hope the Therians are just busy and haven't had a chance to drop a dime on us..."

[Sunset]

SDF-Ixutsangi, GEC-1010347D...

"You would risk your ship, your crew, your life for this filth?" The Therian snorted his derision, his broad nostrils flaring red for a moment. An intimidating figure if ever there was one, the broad-chested warrior was dressed in a mixture of high-tech body armor and martial heritage. Pierced with daggers in their sheaths, a thick pelt of some terrible beast complete with claws and talons hung over one shoulder with the massive helmet balancing it as a pauldron on the other. Behind him more warriors stood, officers at their stations while he towered at the apex of a command dais littered with the weapons - natural and crafted - of fallen foes. When the patrol ship had finally answered he had been standing with his back turned in obvious derision but now he fixed Captain Turbell with a steel-hard glare.

"I would; They claim to be peaceful colonists. I have heard that the warriors of the Hegemony stand as defenders of their people. Why would you threaten these with destruction? Do you have a reason otherwise? Then show it," Turbell responded, doing his best to match the much larger man.

"And if I don't?"

"Then we will go ask them. Will you stop us?"

The two stared at each other for a long minute, a test of wills that extended to those around them with each holding talons or fingers over consoles and prepared to follow the orders that would bring the other to fire and damnation.

"...no, Captain Turbell," the Therian finally broke, turning to slowly circle the platform. "You have proven your position and your honor. Negotiator Zu, you have fulfilled your contract;" Eyes turned to the gray-skinned temptress all around the bridge of the Ixutsangi, except for those of Captain Turbell, who continued to face forward, a small smile on his lips, "Captain Kerev," he addressed another of his patrol, "You will take your patrol and continue with your assigned duties. The Hunter's Path will escort the Ixutsangi to Frontier Post Pere'Nolde and the bait will stay here; It has served its purpose."

"Captain," Zu spoke from over his shoulder, her voice a purr. "I will be departing now, if you will have my ship released for launch?"

"Of course."

"You were expecting this?" One of the junior officers spoke up, the tension on the bridge suddenly deflating, "You knew this was coming?"

"I suspected as much, yes," the Captain explained. "It was all a test, of sorts, with the Zsenyu and Ms. Zu both playing their parts as well as that drone ship," he looked back to the Therian, who nodded his confirmation as to the suspected ship's status. "As I said, you are a people of honor, defenders of the people. If things had changed radically from that, I would have expected to learn that all the way back in Sahlstrom. But the merchants there didn't mentiion it and neither did the Zsenyu though I would guess they are in on it - perhaps one of your protectorate worlds? - and act as something of a gatekeeper. Those who pass their test have something of the self-sufficient qualities required of a warrior."

"Then Negotiator Zu is another test. A test of fidelity and loyalty," Timmons picked up. "Though an interesting one for a more liberal society like ours. How did you settle on Lae," he asked, not mentioning the troubles the Cyar and his partner had had recently.

"Everyone gossips, Commander," she purred. "And my species is especially perceptive to body language and the nuances of communication. My side-deal would have allowed me to learn those of the Cyar..." Zu turned to head for the bridge exit, "But keep my card handy, you might need it," she finished with a twist of the hips.

"...and the last test was the fake colony ship," Turbell turned back to Captain Luzurth. "Honor, duty, sacrifice... But why the test?"

"Not every battle is won through force of arms, Captain," the hulking reptilian answered, his eyes flicking to the side in a gesture Turbell didn't quite recognize, "But you already know that. When we arrive at the Frontier Post we will feast and you will introduce me to the officers who have performed their duties so admirably."

[Sunset]

Frontier Post Pere'Nolde, The Therian Hegemony...

The feast was over; A bloody affair with the carcasses of a half-dozen large animals split wide with a fire built within the rib cage and cooked to various degrees along with a heap of smaller creatures that the carnivorous reptilians devoured whole. Piles of fresh fruits had complemented this along with modest servings of a mildly alcoholic beverage.

"Despite their size, Therians are not great drinkers," Deania explained to Lae, while mostly abstaining herself. "In fact a large proportion of the population, at least back home, suffers from a specific condition that makes them intolerant..."

"Which you'd know if you'd paid attention to something other than that Xypndi's tits in class," Trinya teased, though only half-so.

On the far end of the massive 'Y'-shaped table, the senior officers were using the developing squabble as a chance to conduct business of a different type. At the bottom of the 'Y', with Captain Turbell and the Post's Master sitting to either side, the enormous hulk of Captain Luzurth held court. Even larger than his on-screen image had depicted, he towered above both officers with the bulk of his armor and decoration filling him out even further. Neither was he overweight; Unlike some of his other officers, who ate with gusto, he had slowly picked his way through the meal while consuming only certain pieces of each beast chosen seemingly at random. Even now he slowly tore his way through the foreleg of a scaled monster, picking a salad-plate sized segment off and tossing it onto the table before pulling up the muscle from beneath with a gray claw.

"Captain Luzurth," Turbell leaned close, glancing around the table to check that his own crew were mostly paying attention to their own matters, "You said that not every battle is won through force of arms; I don't think you were talking about the tests you put us through, were you?"

"Very astute, Captain. I see why you hold the rank..."

A moment's pause while he finished his bite and the Reptilian hunched forward, a conspiratorial pall dropping over his features. Beside him the station master now deliberately looked away to keep an eye on both factions while the two men conversed. This in turn pulled the Human in closer and the two were now within inches of the others face, though still looking sideways to the gathering.

"It is exactly that. What I am about to tell you does not go beyond this room; It is unimportant to all those outside the Hegemony but to those who know the Kinslayers it is of great interest. The Zsenyu told me that you were sent as their representatives..."

Turbell nodded, "So they are your agents?"

"Not that we like it. We are the keepers and protectors and there are some among us who believe the wandering merchants should be just that. But they keep their ears open and only a fool would deny their use. But they told me that you are from the place where the Kinslayers have taken up their Exile. Firstly, I wish to tell you - and you may tell them - that they are under no threat from us. While their exile still stands and will always remain so, it is an exile of honor and duty. These we hold above all else and so their sacrifice remains as a testament. But it is not a lonely one." He paused, eyed the table carefully again, and continued, "What they do not know is that while they succeeded in toppling the most egregious example of the corruption, the poison still runs through our domain. Here and there something or someone causes those of a certain nature to rebel."

"And I take it this is not a just revolution."

It wasn't a question but a statement though the Therian nodded; "Yes. With the blood spilled by the Kinslayers still fresh in our nostrils, the Hegemony went into a time of searching the soul. Was there something that had triggered these events? Certainly he found something here and there. No society is perfect. But it was not enough to justify her actions. No, something else has caused this..."

"Captain!" A strident voice interrupted and both turned to find a young officer standing at the door to the chamber. He was thin and quick, the perfect example of what one might want to deliver a message; "Three of the ships from Captain Kerev's patrol have entered the system. Two are damaged, and his ship is not among them. Not are responding to our hails;" A warning glance shot between Luzurth and the station master and both began to rise, "And the lead ship is accelerating as if to attack!"

"Return to your ship," the Therian turned, his tone now that of a leader of warriors. "I think you are about to see how insidious that poison can be..."

[Sunset]

Jer'Don, GEC-99791B 'Alice', The Coreward Fringe...

Meli clung to the ceiling of the restroom with fingers as hard as iron, her body tense as she waited above the surprisingly familiar looking counter and stall arrangement. While the bunnies used the crouch toilets that were more appropriate for their musculature, they still had the same ugly brown metal walls dividing one from another along with a trough urinal near the sliding door. With her back pressed up against the paneling she had a commanding view of the whole room including the stall at the far end where her handler also waited. Ivy was perched more or less as Meli was, though the dark-skinned woman looked considerably more casual leaning up against one solid wall with her feet balanced on a bar that ran down one side of the long cubicle.

The objective was a simple yes/no. If the scion of one of the local clans - one with both widespread physical muscle as well as political influence - decided to play ball with the rest of the city government's plans, they would just wait until he finished his business and leave. If not... Sometimes offers only had one right answer. His clan, the Pew'Ter, had shown a specific and repeated disruptive propensity that extended to outright violence when it didn't get its way. If he said no then the next step would be the removal of their hierarchy. Of course all of this was on the down-low; Ivy had been instructed to assist the city government in whatever way they needed and with a wink and a nudge she had been out the door.

Rasping in its track, the door opened and their target stepped inside with the characteristic half-bounce of his species. He was a heavyset blue-grey fellow with more than a bit of a ponch from healthy eating and a less than active lifestyle. Protected by money and power, his body had gone soft but both were still evident from the well-tailored outfit he wore and the metal and gems flashing here and there. Gold was practically unknown to the Hauyht due to their early-cycle star but there was some small trace of it on his collar where two thick pins glittered in the local style. Just through the opening Meli could see the two bodyguards intended to keep him safe take up their positions after one poked his head through to make sure the room was clear, looking under the base of the stalls. Satisfied, he turned to look outward and slid the door shut with a hand behind his back.

'So, was that a yes or a no?' Meli asked, flexing her muscles and limbering up just in case the unfortunate were to occur.

'Just a second...'

One of the advantages that the Republic was supplying to the locals was the miracle of Augmented Reality and implanted cybernetics. The idea of instant communication and information gathering was astounding but that didn't mean there weren't quirks; Taking to it like bees to honey also meant that they tended to use it for almost everything rather than what would enhance and so the Agent was trying to overcome the problem of signal to noise. A dozen different conversations were all flooding into the Precept's - the local equivalent to a Mayor - head-space and she was nearly shouting.

'No.'

'No as in...'

'No as in he didn't take the offer. He won't play ball.'

Which was too bad because how often do you see a revolving wall installed in a government officials office? Or a sexy space rabbit wearing a rhinestone bikini? But there was no joy in MudVille or for Clan Pew'Ter as Meli dropped from the ceiling just behind her intended victim. He was standing at the counter now, looking himself over in the mirror, and as the Dwarf plunged from the ceiling his eyes widened in shock. With one thick hand she reached out to grab his ears, pulling them sharply back in a bunch, and with the other she snatched the roll of paper towels out of the dispenser. Before he could scream she had swung her improvised weapon around and stabbed it into his open mouth. The roll in the center went through clean to clog his throat while the remains of the tissue bunched up and made it appear as though he was belching paper smoke. Whatever screams he attempted died in his throat and she held him firmly by the ears as he thrashed and she shoved the wad deeper into his mouth. A final hurk and he collapsed to lay still.

'There you go, nice ahn clean,' she giggled at her own inadvertent pun, 'Terrible accident and the city o' Jer'Don has lost another impediment ta progress!'

'I'm going to give you points for creativity, but there's no way in hell that looks like an accident,' Ivy declared as she poked her head out of the far stall.

'Tragic accident?' Meli repeated, her voice full of hope.

'No. Now, let's scram before they wonder if he's all plugged up or something.'

[Sunset]

Special Projects Research & Development Facility, Landor City, Terra Incognito...

"You know..." Rae stood on one of the high balconies that surmounted the vast test chamber, hands in his pockets and leaning against the wall, "I just had a thought."

The lead engineer, along with a handful of his co-workers, had all been watching the events surrounding the first test unfold below from their perch. It was an effort to both stay involved and to be on hand just in case something unexpected happened. The unexpected had happened but not - seemingly - as a result of defect or misuse of the four recently completed monitoring buoys. Instead something else seemed to have aroused the interest of the scientists and especially Dr. Brilla, who stood at the center console along with several of the more prominent researchers from around the Triumvirate. But whatever it was, this was not related to the epiphany that had just occurred to Rae Scukanec. Perhaps that was based on a good night's sleep and the euphoria from a project completed, but it had little to do with watching the statuesque blonde woman excitedly interact with her colleagues.

"Her skirt could stand to be about two inches shorter?"

He turned to look at the technician with a glare, "Really? There's something big going on and you just want to ogle her butt?"

"Multi-tasking," the woman mumbled, though she still sank forward with her arms on the rail as he returned to his own insight.

"It's a nice butt..."

Rae sighed, "Yes, whatever, but I've just had an idea. If four of these buoys can monitor a system from inside this room, what if we were to put four of them in something of a wider array? TRIPWIRE is supposed to be a few hundred and that will cover all of Republic space. But that's only going to help determine where incoming traffic is heading and broadly where it is coming from, right? So what if we put a few four-way clusters out in deep space? Like close enough that we could then, broadly, monitor that of unfriendly NationStates? It wouldn't be exact, but we can't afford exact. I think. Not with the large number of possible threats out there. But this thing will light up really bright if, say, a whole armada sets off for somewhere. Compare their data to the TRIPWIRE array..."

"And we know if they are headed for us. That's pretty slick."

"I think so. I'm calling the Boss..."

[Sunset]

SDF-Ojeni, Back Outside the Capuchin System, The Delta Quadrant...

"I feel like such a dick," Kami announced for perhaps the fifth time that shift.

For her entire time on the bridge, she'd watched as the crew of one of the Raiders had combed the passages of the slowly twisting hull fragment where the Marines had had their first engagement with the aliens. They were dilligent in their search though they had paused for a good amount of time when they had discovered the various points where the GhostDragons had encountered and killed several of their fellows. Remains had been gathered and returned to their ship though whether this was for the purposes of hopefully harvesting the reproductive seed-organs or for some kind of religious or cultural purpose wasn't yet known. But they were closer, as the Communications Officer was just about to assure her.

"Its been worth it, Captain," the Bajoni Lieutenant on duty answered, continuing; "Contextual analysis is still sparse, since the computer can't always see what they are looking at, but even with what little we've been able to cross-verify we've got a working model."

That was really the important part. By breaking down the various parts of the radiopathic communication into distinct elements, the powerful translation system in the Ojeni's communications system had been able to determine how they constructed their communication; The equivalent of nouns, verbs, adjectives, and prepositions. It was a significantly different method than what they were used to, but when it came down to it, it was still just numbers to the computer. Elements of the transmitted radio waves were isolated, compared to those of others, analyzed and compared to contextual clues provided by what they were doing or looking at and these were then added to a matrix and weighted for each incidence of their use until that element crossed the threshold from maybe to near certain.

On the main screen one of the aliens was tracking the signal that had sent them on this wild goose chase in the first place. It looked like it was nearby but, as the transmitter was mounted in an IntelKitten that could navigate all but the smallest nooks and crannies, it was always on the move or just beyond their reach. The risk was that they would give up and go back to their ship - write it off as a bit of communications debris that was somehow stuck beyond the walls and in the on position - but even this was covered. A few of the small IntelRats had jumped onto the backsides of the hard armor space suits they were wearing and had slapped sensor strips into any nook or cranny where the near-invisible bands might go unnoticed. If they did, they'd have another source of data as they rode back to the hidden settlement on the returning Raider.

"Is it enough to make contact though?"

"Tricky question. Well, tricky answer really. Yes. If we could get one face to face, the computer could add new segments to the translation matrix to allow for a shaky on-the-fly conversation. It would be ugly with a lot of near-misses and simple works for complex ideas and vis versa but we could do it. But this is good," he advised, "Don't force it. Every positive match is another pass through the existing data to winnow that out, match the other segments up to other context clues... At some point, and I'd bet you before the shift is over;" Which was another couple hours, by her watch, "It's going to go from Rube Goldberg Machine to Falling Dominoes."

"And then," Kami slapped her hand into her palm and her voice shifted to her best Zapp Brannigan, "Checkmate. Game, set, match..."

[Sunset]

SDF-Heart of Gold, GEC-S4251, Alpha/Gamma Border Region...

"Interesting that you called, Doctor Tithral, because the answer is a shaky yes."

The question, as posed by the Bajoni to Doctor Gryzbala aboard the Spectra-Class Enhanced Explorer Al Kaphrah that happened to be on assignment near GEC-S143, was whether or not she had uncovered any evidence that that singularity was artificial in origin and furthermore linked to the vanishingly rare species known as the Druth'Haari. That the Al Kaphrah happened to be on assignment and that Tithral happened to be one of the few researchers with most of the facts at hand about both the Druth'Haari and the artificial black holes that they had either created or were linked to the creators of was not as coincidental as it seemed. Upon the discovery of the enormous constructs capable of generating an artificial event horizon and thereby mimicking both the effects and the appearance of these awe-inspiring singularities, the Exploration Command had embarked on a regular crusade of re-survey and re-analysis of all the singularities within reach as regarding their status. Already nearly a dozen had been revealed as fake, or as fake as something still capable of devouring whole stars and enormous interstellar nebula could be considered to be.

On the front line of this effort were the many starships of the Spectra-Class. These light ships - the smallest true starship in the Fleet - were numerous and equipped with just the kind of specialty scientific gear that would be required for a quick but complete analysis before moving on to the next. Of the four singularities that seemed to be connected somehow to the white hole, only one had been checked and that by the Al Kaphrah, which was still nearby.

"I'd just put in the report, actually. Fleet is sending out a Venture if things match up to double-check, but an analysis of the gravitational patterns across the surface of the horizon show a distinct similarity to those we were given to match. I haven't found any evidence of the existence of any of these artifacts and as I said; Shaky. There is a pattern but it is far longer and more faint than the one recorded by the Yangtze. I'd almost say that the Druth'Haari, if they are responsible for these things;" That was certainly up for debate. While there were links between the infesting crystalline aliens and the artifacts, they were as tenuous as a particularly curious dog wandering across one's lawn and assuming it was the neighbors, "Went from sixty-four bit encryption to ten-twenty-four."

"As if they are attempting to hide themselves," Tithral mused.

"Could be. Do you think these could be linked to that? That the white hole could be artificial as well?"

"It is a thought that has now crossed my mind," he admitted, "But the implications would be enormous. White holes are supposedly only possible as a remnant from the Singularity Event at the beginning of this universe. That might suggest that either the Druth'Haari are even more powerful as a species than we have considered, or that they are an extra-universal species and, again, more powerful than we can imagine. An interesting thought along those lines; White holes are supposedly possible as a time-reversed or inverted black hole. Somehow they escape the boundaries of space-time and exist backwards, spewing out their consumed material until... Perhaps that is what we are seeing?"

"I'm going to go with the enormously powerful aliens idea because I like it," Doctor Gryzbala grinned. "The artificial black holes are funneling their waste particles to the white hole which then recombines them and spits them back out into our cesspool of a universe. Let me know what you find, but I think what I'm going to do is look for the method that links the two. How are they moving the particles from here to there?"

[Sunset]

Frontier Post Pere'Nolde, The Therian Hegemony...

'Have you considered that this might be another test?' Commander Pham asked as the station-side members of the Ixutsangi's crew raced down the corridor that connected the station's central lift tunnel to the docking area.

'I have,' Turbell answered without pause, 'But I've also considered that I'd rather not pass or fail it with a hole in my ship.'

'And if it's not a test, how do we know which side we should be fighting for?'

It was Commander Timmons turn to ask the question and this one did bring with it a few moments of consideration before the Captain answered. In those seconds part of the answer was already given; Bulkhead doors that had been closed opened, at least temporarily, as they raced through. All around them the Therians who manned the station could be seen preparing for battle. Those who had already been wearing armor had donned their helmets while those who had not were now pulling it on with others assisting. Only those who needed to man the controls for the bulkheads stopped in their preparations and where an individual was ready they stepped in rather than keep a comrade from their own preparations.

'If we were on the wrong side... Or they thought we might be... Well, we'd be fucked, wouldn't we?'

It was a succinct assessment and neither of the two saw any reason to further challenge it. Just ahead, the boarding tube that linked the ship to the station loomed small and as soon as the last man crossed the threshold the warriors on duty dropped the blast door and began to prepare their end to disengage. On the other a group of Marines waited, standing ready in their power armor with suits of body armor in hand. Helmets and gloves came first, the heavy armor running alongside as the Captain and his bridge crew headed for their destination while the others peeled off to their battle stations. Turbell had barely pulled his gloves on when he ran onto the bridge and through it, throwing himself through the open hatch into one of the two escape pods that sat on either side. These were their battle stations; Plugged into the ship they would be ready in case the worst happened. The Captain's next goal was to make sure that didn't happen.

'Are we away?' he asked just as he lay back on the crash couch and pulled the straps over his chest, 'Full combat acceleration. Get us off to the side and keep us moving.'

Ultimately the fight was a Therian fight, he reasoned, and until he was certain which side to come down on he was going to make sure his ship stayed out of the line of fire. Whether the returning patrol felt that the Ixutsangi should be allowed this luxury was another matter and one that would possibly force his hand one way or another. Grabbing the hard-wired cable that would plug him into the ship and allow speed-of-thought command, he turned his head to one side and for a second all was black as electrons overrode neurons. Time slowed down...

'Have they fired yet?' His own illusion, selected for both convenience and familiarity, was the same inside as it was outside; The bridge of the Ixutsangi.

'No indications,' the Sensor Officer reported, only glancing back from her station to his own, 'They are still at extreme range.'

Which didn't mean they hadn't, it just meant that the incoming fire hadn't hit anything yet. Lasers and other speed-of-light weapons might collide with and excite (or annihilate) stellar dust and thus provide a clear indication that they had fired, but this information was propagated at the same speed as the discharge took to travel and was, at least from the perspective of a viewer, occurring at the same time as which the weapon might hit. There was no dodging but there was pre-dodging; By running flat-out, the Ixutsangi made itself as hard to hit as possible.

'Who they target is important,' Turbell ordered. 'Lay out the trajectories of any detected fire, main holo-sphere. Fine detail moving to broad strokes as the ranges close. Are we making positive identification on those ships?'

There was a moment's pause from the same Lieutenant and then the three ships appeared as separate mental holograms off to the side. Heading, acceleration, and other technical data was listed along with the numbers that showed just how closely they matched the patrol ships that had departed the previous system - GEC-1010347 - Captain Luzurth's orders. Two were damaged - one heavily - and this was accounted for in the comparative percentages displayed for a brief moment before each flashed green; 'Unless they had three identical ships prepared. Right down to the mass minus...'

'Too far down the rabbit hole. So yes. Which means the next question is the why. Luzurth was just about to get to that, maybe... Tactical, Engineering, see if you can give us a way to disable one of those ships. Capture and analysis. Work it sideways; Keep a sharp eye on the action. They might be coming after us. Eliminate a potential ally...'

[Sunset]

SDF-Wilson, GEC-99791B 'Alice' Orbit...

Lieutenant Command Huang finished listening to the greeting - again - and clenched her fists to lean forward on the console, supporting herself with her balled-up knuckles, "Is there anything we can do?"

"Wrong question," Commander Fitz corrected, "The correct one is 'Are we going to do anything?' And the answer to that one..."

"Is 'No'," Captain Indermouthe finished, putting his feet up on the chair beside his own and leaning back, his fingers laced behind his head. "First off, we're a transport. A Fleet Transport at that. And even if our cargo pods were full of heavy assault fighters and gravships, I wouldn't want to put us up against a cruiser unless we really, really had to. As they are not, we are not. And before you ask," he fixed Janice with a glare, "No, we aren't going to dick with them. Nor are we going to try to smuggle that Dwarf terror on board their ship. I can see the gears turning and they can just put the brakes on because of second off."

"Because second off, if we do anything overly suspicious, they are going to wonder why we are here other than our own little scientific and hand-holding expedition. Undoubtedly they picked up on this place from one of the news programs from before GRACEFUL JACKRABBIT became a thing and decided to put their fingers in;" There had been more than a few, after all. A story of two researchers captured by murderous rabbits and freed by a lone Marine made for good press. "So, since we want JACKRABBIT to remain a thing, we'll keep our mouths shut, our hands in our pockets, and our eyes open. I've already alerted Fleet but they concur. Don't do diddly squat. We're not at war, they are our rivals, rivals do this kind of thing..."

----

Jer'Don, GEC-99791B 'Alice', The Coreward Fringe...

"Ah man, we should dick with em..." Meli seemed almost gleeful at the thought. Lacing her broad fingers together, she reversed them to crack the knuckles with an ear-shattering ripple. "I wish Praise was here. She'da love this."

Ivy winced, though whether it was the sound or the suggestion of the mentally unsound Agent rejoining them wasn't answered by her response, "Love what?"

"Easy! Shapeshifter, so she just puts on a Roanian Suit and goes in and starts talkin jus' lak they do. They'd toss 'er out or try'n kill her fast enough but we'd get instant buy-in. Ahn make em look like assholes. Twofer one!"

"You are so nice!" The false enthusiasm practically dripped from her tongue and Ivy went on, "But no. No dicking. If they dig themselves a hole, we'll push the dirt in on their heads but if they don't we'll just keep doing what we're doing."

"Which is workin' security," the Dwarf pointed out. "Whoo hoo. Fun times. Fun as watching paint dry. Or carrots grow."

Which was exactly what they were doing; Both. An experimental aeroponic farm had been put up and they were assigned, in the absence of something else to do, to keep a covert eye on it. One of the principle problems with the Hauyht's technology base was that while their military technology was roughly that of the Nineteen-Thirties, their agricultural technology was also that of the Thirties.

Eighteen-Thirties. Or worse.

Aeroponic farming would hopefully change all that; Formerly forced to follow the seasonal root tuber crops across the savanna, the tribes and clans would be able to grow enough to feed themselves without needing a large amount of infrastructure to do so. Some bright spark had come up with the idea of using solar fabric to construct inflatable greenhouses and these could be manufactured en masse and distributed via drones. Better yet, another lightbulb had gone off and someone else had suggested lacing the aeroponic nutrient solution with the birth control agent that had been concocted. Now, in a vacant area of Jer'Don, the first mock-up was waiting while literally the paint dried. While it did workers were being trained and samples gathered of the local root tubers - the staple food for the hard-toothed rabbits - and prepared for gardening.

[Sunset]

SDF-Wilson, GEC-99791B 'Alice' Orbit...

"A few shuttle flights up and down," the Lieutenant at the Sensor Station listed off, repeated what was evident in the traceries logged in the holo-sphere that floated just above it. Where the sensors of the Wilson could peak over the horizon they showed the thin lines of small craft arcing up and down to intersect with those of the orbiting cruiser along with dates and times as well as other less-pertinent data was listed. "Suspicious that they'd show up out of nowhere? Sure, and I'm watching them like a hawk. But they also chose an area as directly away from where we are as possible. Which, again..."

"Good or bad," Huang agreed. "Good, cause they are staying away from our shit. Bad, cause they might be up to shit. Not that we aren't up to shit either. But we got up to shit first so that makes our shit have precedence? Cause we're the good guys. Or the slightly less gray guys. Well, lemme know..."

"Right after I let the Captain know."

"Ouch." She put on her best wounded look, clasping a hand over her heart. "Doesn't trust me, does he?"

The Lieutenant, a muscular young man with the slight trace of an accent that hinted at Sanglanti origins, laughed aloud and that confirmed the hint, "Ahaha! No. Not at all."

"Which isn't gonna stop me. As soon as I figure out how..."

----

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

"Incoming!"

The shout woke Saryan just fast enough for her eyes to flick open, take in the fact that she was still laying formerly-fast asleep in one of the guest suites at the top of the towering research complex, and that there was a slim Asian woman flying at her from the long rectangle of white light that fell from the open doorway. Katryna landed on her spread-eagle, pinning her arms and legs in place as she rolled the blonde woman fully onto her back and pushed herself up. Unlike the Doctor, who was wearing nothing but a bed sheet and half a night-time bra, the Director of Special Projects was fully dressed in what looked like a very nice evening gown or perhaps a club dress depending on the club.

"What the hell!?"

"What the hell indeed!" Katryna looked down at her for a moment, sniffed, and then pulled the sheet away. Underneath was not only what one might expect to find, but what one might not; A brown and yellow-brown goopy mess that might remind one of gore except that it smelled of... "Chocolate and bananas?!" She rolled off the side of the bed and to her feet, holding up her elbows to check them for signs of disaster before looking to her knees. "Someone had a fun night..."

"No! Well, yes, but not that!"

A half-blush grew on her cheeks and she sat up in bed to pull the sheet aside and look over the warm mess just as another figure appeared in the doorway, this time stopping to lean up against the frame. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust but she quickly recognized the form of Amaril, who like his wife was dressed for what appeared to be - despite what she could swear was the early hour - a night out. Katryna retreated to his side and the light, still checking for signs of food stains on herself and her clothing.

"Doctor... I must apologize for my wife's rudeness..."

"But I had an idea!" Katryna put one finger in the air while the other rubbed at a spot on her knee.

"It better be a fuckin' good one to get a girl up this early in the morning," Saryan warned, grabbing the sheet and wrapping it bodily around her chest mess and all. Tucking one end between her breasts, she walked over to the bathroom to stumble for the lights and leave a trail of brown behind her on the wood. "Or night. I'm guessing it's night," she poked her head out the door, "Isn't it?"

"Yes, just after dinner."

"Well, fuck. Shouldn't have laced that sundae with bourbon. Or had three of them." Amaril glanced at his wife sideways, an eyebrow raised, just as the hiss of the shower filled the bathroom and drifted out through the door; "Might as well come and enjoy the show while you tell me what this idea of yours is. And then you can take me wherever it is you're going since you assholes woke me up!"

"Do you even know how to..." Katryna was cut short by a nudge in the ribs, "Yeah. Idea. So, the TRIPWIRE array. I had this idea. So we're using it to look for the changes in the tensor that would indicate that FTL traffic is moving through or towards a certain location, right? Fundamental part of the universe, no real way to stop us from seeing it, blah blah, right? Very cool, but what if we were to use it in reverse?"

"In reverse..." Saryan's statement was half-swallowed by the spray but she didn't bother to stop it or repeat for clarification. Instead she peeled off the sheet and tossed it over the edge of the half-opaque glass wall to leave yet another dripping mess for someone or something to clean up. "Like, use the array to affect the tensor? That would require power, and," A finger traced some quick figures on the wall - the only part of her that was fully visible through the rising steam, "A lot of it. And those buoys are passive. And out the door."

In fact, they were more than that. Thanks to advanced manufacturing and the stand-by status of the project, the first sub-units were already being assembled in a Kajali forge complex off in the Pleiades star cluster. As soon as a batch was assembled, a joint task force would spread out to start laying them one-by-one. As demonstrated by the four working models, even a small number would start giving a fuzzy picture of nearby space. This hadn't been why the Doctor had been celebrating - nor had she been celebrating - but it was in a way connected.

"No, no, I'm thinking of a secondary use. They look for the tensor metrics, so what if we were to alter the tensor? Right now there are any number of ways to block FTL comms or at least interfere with them. I don't think this would be high bandwidth, but what if we were to manipulate the tensor on a local level? As sort of an emergency backup communications method? Could the array see it?"

"Like one of your..." The rest of her answer was obliterated as the shower went from spray to blow and a few seconds later she stepped out naked as a jaybird. "Sure, why not? Now, where are we going?"

[Sunset]

Virtual Classroom, Somewhere in Cyberspace...

"A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed."

"What does this mean?" The lecturer, a thick-looking orc with a missing tusk and his clawed thumbs hooked into the pockets of his jeans, asked rhetorically as he stood with the glowing letters floating behind him. "Most public pundits of the last two centuries were apt to take each section out of context for their own purposes - often not the same as those publicly argued - but such a short statement cannot be understood in such a manner and must instead be considered as the whole. Each part is important and when taken as a whole forms a more cohesive statement and more-so instruction."

"A well regulated Militia; These were the armed forces of their day but they were also different from an Army. A militia was a body of men raised and organized by a community and tasked with its defense. They had little force-projection capability with most providing - bearing - their own arms and equipment. Each was expected to maintain and train with these as well as regularly train with the militia as a whole. Being necessary to the security of a free state; Again, this was important and remains so because it implies not that the state itself is free but both that the state and its citizens are free and that in order to remain so it must maintain these militias - these well-regulated militias - as a defense against those who would seek to infringe on those freedoms."

"The right of the people to keep and bear arms; Note that this does not say the individual but rather the people. That is, the greater body of the citizenry must be able, if able to meet that well-regulated standard, to serve in the militia. This neither precluded nor excluded a standing army but was specifically intended so that the common citizen would have a large representation in not only the military but also the government and not be excluded by the establishment of a wholly professional and possibly foreign army. In those days, governments were in the habit of employing mercenaries from other nations to enforce their laws with the view that these would have little loyalty or compassion for those they were tasked to control. Instead they were loyal to the purse and subject only to its laws and often acted with brutal force and complete impunity against the communities where they were located. Examining the Declaration of Independence gives us just such a list of grievances; Forcibly housed in local homes, used to enforce the collection of taxes imposed by a distant government, and to restrict trade to only those approved by that far ruler among a host of other offenses. All of these were enabled and emboldened by laws removing the right of self-defense to the common citizenry."

"Shall not be infringed; Taken with the previous this final segment is self-obvious. The State shall not remove the ability of the common citizen to form a well-regulated militia that keeps its own arms and equipment as a means of common defense. Importantly, when the statement of well-regulated is considered, it does not remove the ability of the state to impose reasonable restrictions on the sale, transfer, and type of weaponry. But also this allows for reasonable restrictions on who might be allowed to serve and thus who can bear arms - a well-regulated militia. Criminals, the mentally ill, those who cannot maintain a reasonable standard of physical fitness, or those who cannot work together with their fellow militiamen would naturally fall outside of these boundaries."

"This was the most commonly ignored aspect of the second amendment whether through malice, greed, or just plain stupidity. Instead the Second Amendment was often cited as licence for any individual to own any weapon that they desired while completely ignoring the stated aspects of responsibility present in that very same amendment. The Founding Fathers did not envision this to mean the lone hermit in his cabin on the hill with his rifle ready to fend off the perceived slights of any around him but rather the farmer with the rifle above the mantle who would turn out at the local square in good dress to practice with his fellow citizen, interact with them, and thus cement the bonds that would bring the community together as a whole. This would allow for both encouragement and correction; Knowledge would be shared, lives would be improved, and on occasion those who were not suitable to even the comparatively easy standards of the militias would be recognized and prevented from bearing the arms that could easily bring others to ruin."

[Sunset]

SDF-Ojeni, The Capuchin System, The Delta Quadrant...

"Alright, let's try this again," Kami pushed herself up out of her chair to stand, hands unconsciously adjusting what they could of her uniform, and Sloan moving in just behind her to take the visible position of both supporter and second. "And we better make it count cause..."

Because the fuckin' elves were right behind them. Not literally but, according to the latest from the Communications Station, the Menelmacari relief fleet was some three hours out from their current position. Which meant, according to all the briefings and after-action reports that she had ever seen and read, that they were really about fifteen minutes away and would arrive with a show of power and might to rival the Gods of Olympus come down to the Mortal Realms. Which meant that she had only one very small chance to make contact, persuade whoever was on the other end that they meant no harm and came in peace, and that the unholy armada of transports that was following close behind was waiting to take them to somewhere that wasn't a slowly-decaying tumbling hulk of former World Ship in the middle of an empty system.

"And why am I standing?"

Because it felt right, that's why. The translation would be from audio to radiopathy only; The alien communications system lacked any kind of visual transmission element that would have made the whole process that much simpler. Instead it was more akin to the old-fashioned system evoked by the appellation where the radio waves generated by the biological apparatus were intercepted, re-transmitted by a much more powerful transmitter operating on a different frequency band, and then re-transmitted at the destination in the range audible to the purple-skinned aliens. Back and forth with the difference that now on the Ojeni's side there was a translator in place to take the intercepted radio waves, turn them into Standard, and vis versa. What it wouldn't and couldn't do was tell the listener on the other side that she was standing there looking towards the main screen with her best I'm-in-charge look fixed firmly on her young face.

Breaking the pose, she looked back to the Lieutenant at the Communications Station who nodded; The recording had begun; "This is Captain Kamilia Blaine, Republic of Sunset Exploration Command Starship Ojeni," she began, careful to avoid the more aggressive-sounding Defense Force. "I want to begin by apologizing for the unfortunate events that occured when my ship came into contact with yours. It was not our intention to cause conflict or loss of life; We are explorers who seek new knowledge and new life and only desire friendship with those we encounter. In this spirit we have observed your situation and now desire to help. There are worlds we can help you reach where your civilization can grow and thrive. Places where your children can be safe and you can watch them grow. Please, let us help you..."

She considered adding more, but finally decided that short and sweet was the best move. Or at least she hoped it was; There wasn't much time at all left now, not with the time it would take the message to reach the recipients and filter through whatever government structure they had.

"Cross your fingers and send it. Repeat every two minutes for ten," she sank back into her chair. Now it was waiting time.

[Sunset]

Kharjic, Solonic, Beyond the Coreward Fringe...

"Are you ready, Mr. Jones?"

It wasn't exactly an underground lab, but for a moment it felt somehow back-alley as the Solonic with the surgical mask loomed over the reclining form of the pseudonym'ed Mr. Jones. The location was actually both modern and spacious as well as meticulously clean as befitted a surgery and process of such intricate detail. The buyer - a heavyset man in his late fifties with a head of not-his-own hair and a surgical gown to replace his hand-tailored suit - lay out on his stomach on the operating table with his bare butt up in the air and his arms and legs draped comfortably into troughs that kept them both out of the way and relaxed. His face was laying in a hole something like that of a massage table and in fact, as befitting the enormous cost involved, the masseuse had left the room just as the surgeon was coming in. Surrounding him, the rest of the room was just as carefully laid out with holographic and integrated displays showing the patient's status, procedural checklists, and all the other details of the procedure to come.

"Yes, I think I am. Quite relaxed."

"Good, now, we'll be starting with an anesthetic..."

And that was it for Mr. Jones. In seconds he was under and the surgeon was no longer explaining the process but continuing it. Step-by-step, his end goal would be the addition of a Phoenixi ExoCortex implant. Over the next few months it would merge with the patient's cortex and the two would become one until, as the biological cells that would otherwise slowly be replenished no longer did so, the implant would be Mr. Jones. It was an odd thing, when one considered it. The brain was, after all, not a single static organ. Just like any other body part it slowly regenerated and replaced old cells with new until, essentially, every seven years or so (if one were Human) they were a whole new person. It wasn't really true, of course - since the process was continuous one could just as easily think of it as being a new person with each new cell that replaced the old.

It was probably best not to think about it too much.

What it was, however, was functional immortality. unlike the biological that it was merging with and ultimately replacing, the ExoCortex would last forever. There would need to be the occasional maintenance - a new injection of repair nanites to rebuild the electronic cells damaged by the stray cosmic ray or neutrino - but unless it was deliberately destroyed the continual consciousness that was and would be Mr. Jones would live on forever. For the moment the process was both rare, expensive, and isolated. Only those with the millions required would enjoy the benefits but this wouldn't last. The rigorously trained Solonic surgeon would be replaced by a unit the size of a toaster oven that anyone with a spare fifty-k could wrap around their head on Friday night and be ready to party by Saturday morning.

----

In the next room, the procedure was much the same but the patient was decidedly different. There were contracts with these sorts of things - there always were - though this one was more unusual as it contained particular stipulations not by the medical professional to indemnify themselves against the unfortunate but by the patient. Or rather, in this case, the patient's employer.

"Ms. Jones..." The Doctor looked the woman over with some interest; Even though he could only see her backside, he could tell that she was from a species he hadn't personally encountered before and he flipped the chart to the appropriate electronic page, "Pyrk? I've never had the pleasure of meeting someone of your species before. Ms. Jones?" There hadn't been a response and he looked up at the display that showed her vital signs. "Already out? Well, sometimes that happens after a particularly relaxing massage. Let's see here..."

Glancing between the sensory organ that sat at the base of the woman's neck and the chart and back to the sub-dermal ridges that flowed around from the front of her body to disappear in a fan shape right over her shoulder blades, he made sure everything was in order. There was no reason not to continue the procedure; There was a full authorization on file, and there were even instructions for a pickup after the surgery was done.

"Perhaps Ms. Jones is afraid of needles?" He shrugged with a little smile; They had stopped using needles many years before even the upload process that had produced the middle-stage Solonics had been complete. "Anything else..."

The last thing was a custom implant which wasn't a surprise at all. All of his other patients had been Human or the very-nearly meta-Human; She would require a custom and, as it happened, highly expensive unit to complete the job. Placing the sterile container in the robot that would do the actual implantation, he retreated to the corner of the room and began to walk down the pre-surgery checklist; "Get ready for a whole new you, Ms. Jones..."

[Sunset]

Special Projects Shared Design and Development Facility, Shiva, Ares System...

N'Gee'Nr slid one shapely hand down the flank of the production model and just the tip of her purple-black tongue crossed her lavender lips as she began to describe the upgraded science probe in intimate, succulent detail. It was a re-design that had been waiting for the proper team and with the recent addition of the lusciously gorgeous ArAreBeen it had been found. No mere update, she was an entirely new design with a whole host of new capabilities and technologies that had been combined in exquisite detail.

"The body is a single hard... firm... mono-structure with a certain... flexibility... that will give it exceptional endurance," she ran her fingers along the teardrop structure, "In the field and under stress." Reaching across the body, which somehow managed to snag the seam on her fitted grey jumpsuit and pull it half-way down her filled-out chest, she flipped up a toggle and slid one digit deep inside while her lips gaped in exertion. There was a sigh and a hiss and the whole rear carriage dropped down to bring what looked like the entire internal structure with it. "This also allows for easy and thorough maintenance access, allowing one or more technicians deep penetration of the internal systems so that they can hit all the right spots."

There were two trailing winglets, one on each side and mounted lower with their tips swung back and she rested a spiked heel on one to turn and lay back, draping her lean body over it and the curve of the upper body to turn and dip her hand into the exposed maintenance section.

"These, along with a more powerful and precise gravity drive will give the probe a much higher flight ceiling than the previous model and allow it excellent stability and control in even the roughest weather. It has a new navigation and communications unit as well so you can tell it what you want, when and where you want it." With a repeat of her previous performance, the internals slid smoothly back up inside and she rolled to the other side of the winglet, butt in the air, to reach down and stroke the rim of a recessed iris. "There are two appendages here," a fingernail slid across towards the other side and a matching iris, "And here. Both are capable of both delicate manipulation and precise applications of strength for gathering the most intimate samples and turning over the heaviest obstacles to reveal whatever," a finger pulled the seam further down until just the bare tip of her cleavage was visible, "Is hidden underneath."

"Samples are stored here," she slid off to stand and cup a section just forward of the port winglet, running her thumb across the surface, "For analysis and transport. But the primary beauty of the whole unit is these three sensors," She indicated one under the forward cowling, another on top, and a third that hung down below the main chassis. "Navigation and guidance, active scanning," her hand slid down to the third and her voice was pure lust, "And deep probing. Every hidden detail revealed, every secret exposed..."

For a few seconds all was silent as N'Gee'Nr finished her presentation before one of the assembled officers who had gathered to watched the unveiling turned and whispered to her neighbor; "Why do we let anyone other than an ArAreBee do these things?"

"I... Uh," he raised a hand and his voice, catching the woman's attention, "Can you go over the part about the gravity drive again? In more detail?"

[Sunset]

SDF-Ojeni, The Capuchin System, The Delta Quadrant...

"No..." Captain Blaine sank into the back of her chair, feeling just about as small as she'd ever felt, "They said no..."

"Actually, they said 'Fuck off and die;'" Or at least something close to it. It was more along the lines of 'May your body and your seeds be utterly consumed when you kill yourself for your stupidity' but 'Fuck off and die' got the point across succinctly.

Commander Sloan turned around to glare at Lieutenant Mcree but Kami didn't seem to notice the correction and after a moment the Communications Officer shrugged and went back to his duties. For a long minute no one said anything, the bridge of the Ojeni lapsing into utter silence, then Sloan put her hand on her partner's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Kami reached up and held it, but it was not just a comforting gesture.

"You know, if they don't want our help, we can't make them take it," she began, "But we can make them want it."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, there's a big fleet of freighters and merchantmen coming in;" As well as more than a couple of the red and gold warships that would be flying the Elentari's banners, "And if there is anything our allies like, it's putting on a show. So we'll encourage them along those lines - show off the grandeur of Triumvirate industry. Build a big space station right next door and start harvesting all these refined metals. Make a big deal out of it, and all while talking away in their language," she nodded towards the settlement that still floated in the middle of the main display. "Show them that the grass really is greener on the other side of the fence. Maybe even send them some of that grass to tempt them out. They won't dare to fire on a fleet that big, so we can just sit there and look awesome for as long as it takes for them to change their minds. Maybe even start building some kind of giant ship out of all this..."

"Fuckin' elves..."

Still, it was enough to draw the Captain out of her funk and shortly she was passing out orders; "Lieutenant Caldera," she stood and leaned over the railing to catch the Sensor Officer's attention, "Work with Engineering. Find a big chunk nearby - talk to Tactical too, we don't need them taking pot-shots at it with those strap-on launchers they were totting earlier. Something that can house a pretty substantial build-out. We'll want Engineering on that transmission set-up as well; Get the basics set up and our friends can build it when they get here. Which will be..."

"Any minute now," the Communications Officer indicated. "Should we tell them?" He nodded towards the alien settlement.

"Actions speak louder than words. Let's run the flag of the Triumvirate up and see who wants to come to the party...."

[Sunset]

Deep Underground, Terra Incognito, The New Latin System...

"I feel like we've been here before," Lieutenant Symphony declared as she stopped to swing her heavy rifle around, bringing it to bear on the various sections of the curving network of tunnels that had been only a few kilograms of Boom-Ex away from the third set, which in turn had been only a thin curtain wall of dripping limestone away from the second set, and so on. "Deja Vu, but," she knelt to examine the tunnel floor, which was a thick layer of sand built up over the otherwise broken rock, "No footprints, no sign that anyone has been here. Or that anything else has been either."

"We have not been here either," another voice - Ensign Tell'Vik - answered the unasked from behind her.

His - Their, properly, since the Heon lived in self-organizing communities of specialized non-individual units - presence was new as well. In fact there was both a Heon and a Doso in the combat patrol that had now made their way deep into the tunnel network that seemed to run through the body of Terra Incognito like a well-aged Swiss cheese. Both had been included by Lieutenant Commander Ya's request; Even if neither species was connected to whatever nexus that the impromptu Tensor Array had discovered, their skills in underground navigation and geology would come in handy. The Heon in particular had - or could have - an innate knowledge of rock formations, cave deposits, and the flow of water that had produced them. But he had a feeling that they were and that hunch was seconded by the expert opinion of Doctor Richardo, who had been alerted to the going's on when Doctor Brilla had ordered three chocolate-and-bourbon sundae's at the lounge.

Those skills had already proved useful. In addition to the seemingly unending network of caves and passages that led from a seaside cave just off a lovely wave-pounded beach nearly a thousand kilometers away from Landor City, there had been everything from submerged pools to underground rivers to tight passages and infinite drops to deal with. Most of these were overcome thanks to technology; The whole team wore or inhabited a next-generation suit of GhostDragon Power Armor. But there were odd currents, drafts, and potential cave-ins to deal with. Even the ultra-rugged armor was still vulnerable to the crushing weight of a hundred tons of boulder and if it wasn't for a block of Boom-Ex delivered by drone they all would have been squeezing their way back out of a hundred and fifty meter tunnel that had been just barely wide enough to start down before it had pinched away to nothing but a finger hole. Ensign Tell'Vik had felt that one coming and that had saved them a ten-hour effort to maneuver their suits in and out with nothing to show for it but a hearty explosion.

They'd skipped directly to the explosion.

"Which is a little odd," Doctor Richardo offered as he looked around the space and studied the gauges on the suite of sensors built into both forearms. Running the outer arm over a section of the wall, he double-checked the numbers and then went on, "This area should be the ideal breeding habitat for your species. The combination of heat, mineral content, and pressure should have drawn your species here."

"But yet it did not. Something about this area... Unease, dread, uncertainty, a nervous anticipation? These are the closest terms I can use in Standard to describe what my gestalt is feeling."

"Mhm," Richardo nodded inside his helmet, "Which is itself odd. Your elements are highly specialized to the point where what we call emotions are carried by only one particular sub-section. But yet all of you is feeling them?"

"Yes."

It was a simple answer, but the Republic's knowledge of Heon biology had expanded far beyond the simple and Doctor Richardo was an expert in it. A feeling of dread would be unneeded and possibly detrimental to a Marine headed into combat and the Heon could simply leave that behind. That also meant that they would not be, in theory, able to experience that emotion or its analog but yet they were.

"What about you," the Doctor turned to Ensign Haack, the Doso counter-part to the Heon in the patrol. "Any related feelings?"

"No Sir. There's a bit of a crushed-in feeling, but," the Ensign put her hand on the wall, "The reason is pretty obvious."

"Make some notes and let's keep moving." Lieutenant Commander Ya suggested, though it was as much an order as the first. He'd been there, down in the tunnels, when the Heon had been attacking his Marines to defend their homes from the unexpected intrusion of Republic miners and their machines. Thus his reason was more practical and immediate; He remembered the crushing fists of rock and spikes of stone that had emerged from wall and ceiling to punch holes in his men or drag them into the rock to oblivion.

Onward they trudged, six alone in the dark...

[Sunset]

SDF-Heart of Gold, GEC-S4251, Alpha/Gamma Border Region...

"So we have a good indication that this white hole is linked, somehow, to four black holes across galactic distances. Why? And to what end," Captain Waretram asked. He was sitting at the head of the Heart of Gold's smallest conference table - a stylishly thin thing made from the ring-slice of an exotic tree - along with Doctor Tithral and a couple other representatives from the science section. "Are they building new worlds or destroying old ones?"

"Precisely the question," Tithral answered before another researcher chimed in.

"We've taken measurements. The amount of matter taken in by the four roughly equals the amount put out over the same period by the white hole. But..."

"But?" Waretram studied the woman. She was an Ojeni scientist named Kyzura with the wet-looking and multicolored skin common to that species as well as a rope of almost-hair tendrils that hung down both shoulders. "That sounds like you have a big but..."

"Not at all, Captain," she laughed, standing up to spin around and show her regular-sized posterior. "But it is a big but. All four of those black holes - artificial or not - have been there forever. The furthest from Sol is forty-seven thousand light years out and we have records of it dating back to the NASA days. In fact, all four appear in every singularity database we have access to. Potentially millions of years. But that's not millions of years worth of matter," she pointed casually, one finger from a flipped hand, to the white hole that appeared to float somewhere just outside the artificial windows. "Extrapolating backwards, based on current intake and the size of the nebula, we're looking at twenty to twenty-five thousand years worth of mass."

"Spread across the four?"

"It looks that way, and we're going through old imagery to try to confirm how much matter the four took in and the white hole put out, but getting that pinned down will be tricky. We're trying to get an exact number when no one has had anything as close to as sensitive as our instruments pointed at it regularly. At best we're talking large reflector telescopes."

"What's your speculation, then," Waretram asked, turning to a question with a more nebulous answer. "What's going on?"

"Well, if it wasn't for this nebula," Kyzura mused, "This area would be empty space. There's enough mass scattered around now that we might see two or three stars out of it. I'd almost say they are seeding stars, but is it for life or for something else? You'd think with a civilization powerful enough to create an artificial event horizon they would just build the whole planet. Why go to all of the trouble and wait while the star forms, a proto-planetary disc forms, etc, etc on down the line. If any of those processes fail, you've just wasted a lot of time."

"How do we know they are waiting around?" Tithral countered. "We could be looking at the foundation work. Build up the nebula, then when they get enough material for however many stars they shut the matter pumps off and start building. You know... Maybe that's how they reproduce. Maybe the event horizon isn't a defense mechanism but rather devoted to gathering materials with defense only a secondary concern. Build up the nebula, let a few stars form, build a new event horizon around the best, repeat..."

"White hole eggs. Where's my cosmic chicken farm?"

[Sunset]

Ambrosia, Southern Anuke...

"They are building a civilization down there..."

"Mmm, yes, they are," Ambrose agreed, watching the marker tag move through the network of tunnels and chambers that the movement of its wearer and a few others tagged by the industrious Agent Sixteen had revealed. "One must wonder what miracle occurred between the will of my genius and the work of our hands to allow for such an evolutionary leap. Mere months ago they were nothing more than common lab rats..."

But were they? A thought struck him and he turned away from the display to quickly stride over to the glory that was the GZ7-Y Model 96F Full Spectrum HydroAnalyzer. It was his new baby - he'd found it at a garage sale for a ridiculous price and talked the young lady down to a positive steal - and any chance to use it was gleefully taken.

"I believe those were the specimens being used to test the effects of the NuSEXYE line we supplied Ms. Ta Min with, hmm? Check and see if we have any examples of that particular batch left, would you Seventeen? My goal is to check my own statement; I remember the changes I made to that batch down to to the molecule but..." Something was tickling the back of his head and it wasn't the white whisps of his hair as a cool afternoon breeze drifted through the open window. "Perhaps mine was not the only hand at play here."

"Yes, Doctor;" And while her shapely hind end disappeared into the next room and its vault of cold storage units, he considered the possibilities while getting them all wrong.

"Kraus comes to mind immediately. He's something of a specialist in these things and he has access to," he suddenly looked into the corners of the room, half-hoping for the optically shrouded form of an Intelligence Assassin to make itself known, "The kind of assets required to track me down and infiltrate my home. And he owes me one. But he works for that bitch;" He couldn't decide if he meant Katryna or Erika - emotions were mixed on that front for the time being, "Who could do the same thing. But why? No, they have no motivation to engage in something so obtuse! If anything, it would have to be Hillcock. I did unleash a sea monster that ate his mummy..."

Ambrose shrugged, "A valid grudge to hold. Though if he could have done the same to my mother, I would have considered it a favor done. But is he the guilty party? And what shall my revenge be if so?"

It was one of the things that the Doctor loved about his chosen carrier path; Revenge heaped on top of a misguided sense of justice built on a foundation of pointless cruelty salted upon the fields of petty rivalry. A wolf-grin crossed his bony face, "It's things like this that make life worth living! Ah, there you are..."

Miss Seventeen had returned with a tray of vials and she held out one for his inspection, "Batch seven-thirty-five, Doctor."

"Seven-thirty-five?" He held up the vial and looked the contents over with a critical eye, "Why, this was one of the safest batches. No radical alterations, no risky substitutions. If anything, it was a step backwards from my usual bold vision! But let us see what fel magic has wrought..."

Pouring a bit out onto a dish, he slid it into the receptacle on the machine, checked the display, and now satisfied that everything was ready, pushed the button. There was only a brief hum but this was standard for the machine and then nothing but silence indicated it was working properly. A few seconds then a single yellow light, then a chug and a hum, then a red light and it was done. A few more moments and a mechanically unnessecary rotation of an arm that carried a stylish see-through display and the results were there for all to see. With the Doctor standing close and bent nearly to the waist and the zophtic beauty of his assistant just over his shoulder, Ambrose studied the results before making the rather startling and decidedly out of character announcement; "What the fuck!?"

----

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

"You sold him a GZ7-Y Model 96F Full Spectrum HydroAnalyzer for fifteen di-coins?"

"And he didn't even recognize me!" Katryna boasted, plucking at her shirt as though it was a pair of suspenders, "Course, I wasn't wearing this body. But yeah, I'll bet he thinks he got the deal of a lifetime..."

"Didn't he?" Demi asked, before taking a sip of her tea and waiting for her step-daughter's response over the top of the cup. "I don't know what a GX-whatever is, but it sounds expensive."

"It's a piece of laboratory equipment used to analyze biological samples. It's extremely precise and can tell you nearly anything you might want to know about a given specimen. And it is very expensive; There's usually only one of the latest model in every Special Projects lab facility. Even an older model like the 96F is worth... A few hundred thousand?"

"Yep," Katryna agreed, "Costly and, importantly, delicate. There's no way he's doing the kind of intrusive testing that he should be on something that is sitting there right in the middle of his laboratory."

"Day in, day out..."

"Yep," the wanna-be spy mistress grinned, "Keeping track of his every move. Well worth the price. So, enough about me; What's up with you two? Demi pregnant yet?"

Demi's eyes went wide and she made a strangled sound as tea shot out of her nose, "Wa... Wait, how..." Then she remembered what Doctor Wilt had said; 'She can pick up your heartbeat, your respiration, your pupil dilation, if she doesn't just pick up the signal...' Dabbing at her shirt with the napkin the mysteriously present butler had just handed her, she sighed, "No... A couple more days and then it's just a chance."

"A chance based on how often Mom can make you scream her name;" Once again, tea splattered and Alex handed Demi another napkin. "I read the specs," Katryna supplied with another wide grin, "I'm gonna give you two a week before that thing goes off!"