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

[Sunset]

The 'Jeach, Jer'Don City, GEC-99791B (Alice)...

"I'm going to countermand that," Agent Evening ordered to everyone's surprise but her own and Meli's.

They - Lieutenant Commander Huang, Agent Madison, and Agent Evening - were gathered around a folding table that was serving as an impromptu conference table in the equally make-do Republic Joint Economic Assistance Center or 'jeach, as it had become colloquially known as. The Dwarf was only un-surprised by her absence; She was off at the frontier of the expanding Jer'Don NationState attempting to prevent rather than - shockingly - inflict another atrocity.

Part of that was just why they were there. With the discovery of the secret aircraft manufacturing plant hidden in the tangled streets of Jer'Don, a meeting had been called to discuss just how to deal with the problem and the initial perception was that it was quite the problem. Subsequent investigations has revealed the extent of it; The bunnies were using their newly-crafted air power to wage a war of revenge and retaliation on clans and towns that had wronged them in the past. Meli had been dispatched to prevent the Jer'Don air wing from wiping out a migrating clan that had a historic enmity with the underground project's backer in the Mayor's Office while simultaneously avoiding alerting the air wing that said atrocity was being averted but the problem was still continuing.

Before anyone could object - though, perhaps oddly, there didn't seem to be any - Evening laid out her reasoning; "The Roanians are up to something, so that gives us two problems. They've been here too long for a simple scientific investigation. We're not exactly one-hundred-percent forthcoming here either;" Operation GRACEFUL JACKRABBIT would be doomed to failure if the Roanians caught a whiff of the Republic's long-term intentions, "But we're also supposed to be establishing a set of procedures for the wide-spread implementation of JACKRABBIT. Adding in the variable of a rival stellar power is going to make those procedures so complex as to be useless. Whether whatever they are up to is also a threat to the local civilization - and its eventual integration into ours, as hypocritical as that sounds - should also be a primary concern. Some of that we'll solve or at least investigate using existing techniques. Put out a wider surveillance satellite network, push IntelX assets out into the field to keep an eye on them. They'll probably start keeping their heads down more but that will also hopefully slow them down. But we need to be ready if whatever they are up to ends up interfering with our work here."

"They are most of the planet away," Huang pointed out. "Northern continent, southern continent. They'd have to cross the Ithsmus," she pointed to an area on the map where the two large continents pinched together at a point where an enormous curving bay on one side almost linked together while the landward-side tapered down to a distance of only a few hundred kilometers of high mountains and dense jungle. "Which means we should jump on that now. I'm sure they can fly, but even if we just hold it, we can control how they cross. If they cross."

"I want more than that, Lieutenant Commander. If we fight with the Mayor's Office over their underground air force, we'll end up alienating them and a well-regulated military may end up being necessary depending on what the Roanians are doing. So what I'd like you to do is find a way to augment their air capacity and encourage it but curb the excesses. They are going to fight - they seem born to it - but if we can direct that along a useful avenue we can prepare them for bigger things."

"Mil-Spec Solar Cloth," the younger woman practically blurted out. "I was taking a look at their plans, and these things would be so cool if we gave them a little upgrade. We could trade the good stuff for putting the program on the books with a proper command structure. We don't have to tell them about all the nifty stuff but even bullet-proof would be a pretty compelling draw. Then if shit does hit the fan, it would be a pretty simple matter to upgrade their pilots to Augmented Reality interfaces and they would have access to the whole range of capabilities. The polymorphic capacity would make them self-healing, variable camouflage, blend in some sensor-web and they'd have some impressive navigation and target acquisition capabilities given all that surface area. And if we had to re-arm them, it would be essentially plug-and-play."

"Keep it under your hat though," Evening instructed. "This is all contingency stuff. Ivy..."

"Hmm, I'm guessing you want me on the political side?"

"Yes. I've heard rumors that a nearby city - one of the minor ones - wants to link up with Jer'Don. Of course they'll want the technology and military knowledge, but its also an opportunity to emphasize the advantages of cooperation and mutual support. Even if you have to manufacture something, I want that alliance..."

The conversation continued for several more minutes until there was a knock on the door and a momentary silence as all three looked over before it slid aside to reveal the short and stout form of Meli, who walked in with a whistle and a cheery wave, "Hey!"

"Attrocity pre..." A pregnant pause stopped Evening in mid-sentence as her attention was drawn to the odd hat that the dwarf was wearing. Two floppy ears draped back over her head and a dribble of brown-red near one ear revealed the truth of the matter. "Goddamnit."

[Sunset]

Defense Forces Logistics Installation Seventy Six, Ju-Docri, Docru System...

"It's a lot of birds with one stone," Daniel stated as he detailed out his invention. "A standard forty millimeter missile with all the bells and whistles. But what they lack is a remote target acquisition function. Normally this is handled by drones like this," he indicated one of the small black spheres that was darting around the room, "But against an advanced adversary these are either forced into cover or destroyed. Which is something of the point as they are a lot cheaper than a person or an armored suit. But this can be cheaper still."

Picking up one of the cylindrical missiles, he showed where he had made his addition; "Standard sensor strips, eight to be exact, adhered to the outer shell. during flight they will be peeled away at essentially random times and thus scattered over the battlefield. This will serve multiple functions. First, it will interact with the networked battlefield to provide enhanced target acquisition and prioritization. As more munitions are fired and more sensor strips thrown out, it will enhance the level of detail further and further as the array expands. This will also provide another useful function in that it will eliminate fog-of-war scenarios where combat may move out of one area and then back into it, forcing re-acquisition of any combatants as well as giving an opponent opportunities to set up ambushes or complex fire networks."

"The second function will be to clutter the battlefield. Since each sensor strip is its own communications node, attempts to target our units via their communications signatures will run into a jungle of nearly and essentially identical active communications nodes. Additional methods such as image analysis may help to determine the proper target, but since GhostDragon suits employ active holographic and optical camouflage, what might look like a rock might very well be a rock. Eight stripes times multiple launchers equals a lot of potential targets and potential mistakes."

"So, why not build some kind of dispenser into the missile?"

Admiral Gurnsey picked up the demonstration round and turned it over in his hand, finger thumbing at the loose end of a sensor strip.

"Seems to me you'd get more reliability that way."

"And more cost," the Lieutenant pointed out. "Plus there's another third advantage. In firing tests, the essentially random process of each strip peeling off makes the round fly in a very erratic fashion. They are self-correcting, of course, but this may give them enhanced survive-ability against anti-missile systems. I was only able to test them versus our own, so the success rate was essentially flat. But these strips are printed in bulk, as are the missiles. Adding another stage in the manufacturing process where they are rolled on would be inexpensive, but changing the design of the missile would require a re-tooling of the plant and possibly the launchers as well. But the strips would be invisible to the electro-magnetic launchers; No modification necessary."

[Sunset]

Cross-Posted From here.

SDF-Unconquered Sun, Deep Space, Near the Rudan System...

"You know I don't like this shit," Fidelo complained, running one hand through his tied-back black hair while the other cradled a heavy rifle over his forearm. The Admiral looked ill-at-ease but still the professional as the hologram remained as professionally still as the man on the distant ship.

"And I don't like the idea of sending my wife in there as some kind of professional hostage, but that's how the job works."

"And if something happens, I'll get her out," he promised before closing the connection.

It was a conversation that was taking place behind the subject's back. The Ambassador was already away; Dispatched aboard a Transit-Class Shuttle that was just now disappearing from the Unconquered Sun's immediate sensor range as its short-range space-warp drive took it from far outside the system to the normal arrival point that the Roanians preferred. That it was a short-range shuttle would not be unnoticed but that was just as much the point. The flagship and her arriving escorts would wait and watch while the Ambassador, perhaps most importantly, listened. There were already plenty of others there with the express intention of solving the problem - she would be there to make sure that if the situation changed it either changed in the Republic's favor or that they were ready for whatever that change might be. It would be reading the diplomatic tea leaves but that was her job, no matter how much Erika would have liked to have made it otherwise.

"And I must put forth my full formal protest that they didn't invite me!" Erika turned to the other Ambassador not-in-the-room, the roly form of Ambassador Penguin. He glared at her with his beady black eyes but she only glared back; "And you don't know how tempted I am to memory-swap you with Solid right now. So shut up."

----

Thang Long Citadel, Near D'Zytendi City, N'Xypndiltn...

They were still there but Tradia remembered little of it. The blood-surge of adrenaline as she'd swept through the caves and tunnels that bored their way through the rock had drowned most of it out but they had been there. Bodies discarded as casually as one might toss aside clothes, hung up on the wall to be displayed in bloody agony until the moment their life fled them, spread out on tables and altars for whatever dark delights the gods had desired to take of them. All of it had been washed away in the flicker-pulse of rifle fire and the screams and curses of the living idols as they died the deaths they had promised they could not.

Nothing had been done to cleanse them but, as the Inspector had asked, was it deliberate or simply convenient?

There was little sign that the inhabitants of the Citadel had wandered the passages below their keep. Here and there dusty footprints from some time ago could be found that then overlapped the deep impressions left by the rapid passage of two Xypndi warriors on a mission of revenge and liberation, but these seemed nothing more than aimless wanderings and for the most part they avoided the more grotesque areas with limited exceptions. Where the tunnels would have emerged from the volcanic spire they had been, baring again a single exception, they had been sealed up with a rough stone wall or a barricade drawn from the shattered wooden tables and benches the two had left in their wake. These were then universally covered by an interior wall that disguised their presence and concealed the tunnels from the world seemingly forever.

Except for one.

'Perhaps it is most telling that the one entrance to these dens of savagery was through the closet of Prince Nesar himself,' Inspector Min allowed himself a small smile, though the smug expression was still tainted by the reality of what he had just witnessed.

They were outside the closet now, away from the robes and everyday clothes that had still hung there or lay carefully folded on their shelves to await his return, and back in the darkness of the winding tunnels and the narrow footprints that led hesitantly into the darkness.

'These aren't his, though,' Tradia stated, ducking back through the hidden door and returning in only a moment with the plainest portion of the Prince's wardrobe - a pair of ordinary tennis shoes. 'I'm not sure he plays tennis;' she didn't either, but she knew of it via holovision, 'But these aren't his footprints,' She laid the pair alongside the dusty tracks as an example.

'A guard;' And it was the most obvious answer, but something tugged on the Inspector to pursue the matter further. The light and cool comfort of the mock-palace might have beckoned but answers, in his experience, were often found in darkness. 'Let us retrace his steps.'

Here and there they wandered as they followed the tracks until they came to one area in particular that interested the Inspector; An ordinary storeroom in a nightmare world. Workbenches were arranged to one side and the rotting remains of one of the ceremonial masks that had deceived her people for untold generations lay unfinished on the rough tabletop. More supplies of the god's nefarious trade were carelessly stacked here and there and a series of baskets hung from the ceiling; The local version of shelves. It was here that the footsteps stopped to move here and there and it was here that the Inspector and the Adjutant stopped as well.

'Simple theft, or something more?' Min asked as he placed his feet inside those of the other, moving his hands from surface to shelf and back as the intricate dance continued.

Tradia's voice curled in disgust, 'I've seen these before. These were the ceremonial vessels that the gods would bring with them as the ceremonies began. Lots of smoke and strong smells and then everyone would start to feel sleepy. I remember... Not much. But they would tell us to do things and we would. Kill our Elders, take our own life. Butcher another tribe;' Rage crept into her voice, 'Everything we did to them, they deserved.'

'Perhaps someone was interested in the how,' Chen answered, moving from shelf to shelf collecting samples. 'Someone determined enough to wander a charnel house...'

[Sunset]

SNN Nightly News with Tanya Zaldano...

"And the big news tonight, just in time for the New Year, is the final passage of the Mangala-Sunset Federal State Compact, which was ratified just under the wire today in an essentially ceremonial vote by the Mangalan Imperial Council after a nationwide referendum that saw the Mangalan constitution altered to allow the union. This was matched by a similar vote in the Republic Senate where the process was notably smoothed by representatives of the Federal Republic States of Khenala and Imnsvale. Their presence virtually assured a successful vote and they were immediately joined by the members of the Imperial Council as well as Speaker Terrel for a joint signing ceremony with Secretary-General Silaco..."

The studio faded out and was replaced by the equally familiar setting of the Republic Senate Chamber's default virtual appearance but with a twist; The enormous curving window that normally looked out on a different portion of the sprawling Republic and its various worlds had been replaced by a portion of the Mangalan Council Chambers with its hanging glass panels and central dais. Neither was occupied with instead the ceremony taking place between the two, but it was an effective and symbolic blending of the two chambers. Other side chambers had also been similarly re-decorated to include the various government chambers for the other Federal States; A row of dark seats that flowed up to a central chair for Khenala, a more modern round table for Imnsvale, the raised pillar with its five floating discs for Ravenspire, the Bloodless Throne for the Therians of the Kinslayers, and the boardroom table for New ArAreBee. Facing all of this was the wide curve of the Republic Senate; Ten rows of ten seats with plenty of room between the desks for both Senators and their aids to circulate. On each side were more seats filled with the faces of people from all over Republic space and these now had a significantly higher representation from the Hellas Basin.

Tanya walked freely through all this as the ceremony continued, dressed for the occasion in a painted-on rippling variation of the Mangalan flag and a short, semi-opaque skirt with a matching open jacket in the same silky off-white color as the hanging glass panels that now encircled the front of the room.

"As with the other Federal State agreements, this will place the responsibility for mattered of diplomacy and state under the Secretary-General's office with the creation of a position equivalent to Under Secretary, which will by treaty obligation be filled by the current Voice of the Imperial Council. This will make the Voice, as with the other heads of the other Federated States, a member of the Secretary-General's privy council. This will also place the Mangalan military forces under the combined Defense Force structure, a process that has already been underway for some time. This will result in an over-all reduction in the size of the Mangalan Defense Force but an increase in the Sunset Defense Force as many of the operational forces will migrate into that integrated command structure."

"This is symbolic of the integration that will begin at an accelerated rate all across the Republic and the newest Federal State. With a near population parity between the Sunset and Mangalan portions of the joint state, Mangalan influences are expected to become significant;" A floating hologram appeared that showed the population, as percentages, of the various Federal States with the lion's share now being consumed by the two. "And, with interest to the demographers out there, that pushes the Republic back strongly into the group of Human majority population states..."

[Sunset]

Special Projects Development Center, Landor City, Terra Incognito...

"The problem is that it costs a lot of money and is relatively rare... right now."

Katryna leaned over the edge of the chrome and glass pedestal, her fingers wrapped around the edge and her butt thrust out behind her in a slump-shoulder pose that indicated deliberate exasperation with the subject at hand. That subject, floating gently at her eye level and spinning slowly as her breath passed over the aerodyne form, was a Phoenixi ExoCortex implant. The nearly flat s-shape shone the same brilliant silver as the finishings in the rest of the lab and that too was something of an exasperation. People wanted it and, by the laws of capitalism, they would then have it. Some already did; The rich and the famous had been traveling to Solonic to spend the sums required to bypass the on-going process to re-image the Solonics out of their imposed prison and into the growing, changing, living beings that they once had been.

"But it won't stay that way, and either we supply it or someone else does. And since that someone else is the Phoenix Empire - which we know all of very little about - I'm making the we a priority. Which is where you come in."

The 'you' being the quintet of people standing around behind the Director; Dr. Mona Wilt, CEO of Saint Medical Systems; Li Chirasa, CEO of Climax Incorporated; Gabriella Sinco Florez and Vincenti Alvarez, CEO and President (Respectively) of El Hefe Fabricación Corporación; and Tony Cusciato, VP of Development at Silaco Electronics. The first was there because of her company's long-running collaboration with Special Projects and the Republic government in general, the second because someone was bound to sexualize the product and it might as well be an expert, the third and fourth because EHFC made a lot of general consumer goods particularly on the low end of the scale, and the last because as Secretary-General, Erika was expected to remain hands-off in something of this nature. There was a sixth as well and this was Secretary Tormakk Jin, who would be handling the Executive side of things.

"I'm going to tear this thing down - have torn it down, really - figure out the specifics, and then put it forward to each of you to craft your own spin on the design."

"Why not just buy it from the Phoenixi?" Vice President Cusciato asked. "Everything I've seen - and we've done our own tear-down - says that they make a good product. Why do you want us to duplicate the effort?"

"A few reasons," she turned to sit on the edge, stretching out her legs in front of her and crossing them at the ankle. "First, we don't know them. The Solonics went to them with the request based on the information they had about the ExoCortex. Which seems to have turned out fine; Seems. But Solonic is one planet and one population. We have an enormous population that - I will point out for those of you in business - just got bigger officially yesterday. Billions and billions of people across dozens of star systems and dozens of species too. Even disregarding the possibility of a medical mishap, there's the possibility that this incredibly complex piece of cyberware that replaces your brain could contain some kind of trojan. Even if it is as simple as using the target civilization as an enormous gestalt DogeCoin miner; Those are my coins, damnit!"

"But putting the ball and the responsibility back in our court is a good thing. If something goes wrong, we fix it. If we discover an improvement, we gain from it. And there are other concerns as well; Defense Forces personnel are going to want this thing. Which means integrating it with several very classified and very sensitive military systems;" NEENJA and the evolving NGBE protocol for two, "So we need to be able to do that without giving away the farm, the cows, and the fence line. So we need an internal source for Defense Force personnel to acquire these implants where we can distribute an interface specification that will be followed to the letter and, because we own your sweet asses, won't be given away for a nickle on the street corner."

"And what about the Phoenixi? Won't they complain?"

"Maybe? But they are aaaaaalllll the way over there," she pointed off into the distance, "While we are right here. Do something about it, kthxby. And I'm not deliberately trying to piss them off, but this is your brain we're talking about here. And the brains of my two kids, potentially. I want to know that when this thing replaces their neurons it won't be deleting their consciousness and turning them into some kind of space-time horror gestalt. Which brings up another concern; The Singularity. This is potentially a big step in the direction of an intellectual singularity and until we know what's on the other side we don't want to go there. Could be zombies, could be dragons, could be Ardans."

There were laughs at the last one and Katryna echoed them, "Okay, maybe not that last one."

[Sunset]

SDF-Ojeni, Around the Dragon's Eye, Delta Quadrant...

"Could this be the origins of the Erae?"

It was the stupid question that had to be asked but there were, as the proverb went, no Stupid Questions; Only Ensigns who had stayed up far too late in a vain attempt to get lucky. In fact the question had crossed the mind of many of those present before being discarded as too wildly fantastic and too trite and pat a solution to be even slightly realistic but that did not mean there wasn't an answer and it was different than what most expected; "No," Lieutenant Ingersol answered, a trace of understanding humor in his voice, "But there is a twist."

They - the senior shift officers as well as their subordinates who were interested - had gathered for something of an informal bull session in the Ojeni's mess hall. The convenient but bland eatery was typically ignored far and wide across the Fleet in favor of the more relaxed lounge at the top of the saucer section but the cafeteria-style seating and open space made it ideal for large gatherings that would otherwise feel crowded in one of the smaller conference rooms.

"And boy is it a doozy."

"Are you gonna tell us or tease us?" Captain Blaine called out, appearing at the doorway.

"Heyo, Captain," the Sensor Officer called out, "And since rank has been pulled," he paused and the holograpgic representation of local space appeared in fron of him with the Dragon's Eye in the center. It began to zoom out, everything shrinking as a pale blue line erupted from the Eye and began to trace its way across the heavens. Soon the disc of the galaxy was the dominant feature but it too was shrinking as the ray continued on its curving course. "It is extra-galactic - or at least the planet is. Tracing the path back wasn't easy - a lot of gravity wells to adjust for, including at least one singularity that put a big kink in the curve, but about seven hundred million years ago - or just after I was born;" There were a couple laughs and he went on, "It emerged from the Canis Major dwarf galaxy and just started walking."

"Are you saying that this culture is seven hundred million years old?"

"Oh, I doubt that," Ingersol shook his hand. "It does throw a big twist into any attempts to date it based on current methods. Everything we use now is comparative in some way; We know this object is this old and so this object is also this old. In this case we have nothing to compare it to..."

"Not entirely true," a voice spoke up from the back and several, including the rejected Ensign, stepped to the side to allow the speaker to move forward. "Doctor Vikosio, planetary sciences," she introduced herself. "Though its a little more old-school than just pointing the main sensor array at something and hitting it with enough juice to fry a turkey from orbit."

'Do you remember when I did that back at the Academy?' Kami whispered to Commander Sloan, who had come in behind her and now stood behind her with an arm across the Captain's shoulder while the other wrapped her own around the slender blonde's waist and comfortably down the back of her pants. 'Tuned the Academy sensor array and exploded all the plants in Commander Sheldon's office?'

'After we sent him a hundred vases of flowers? Yes... Sssh. Dont give them any ideas,' her partner warned. 'We were picking glass shards out of the carpet for a week.'

"What I'm doing in the lab is exposing a sample of freshly cut rock to the same sea water found around the temple sites. Over time, it induces changes in the rock and I'm in the process of tracking these. A few days and I'll be able to tell you within a few thousand years when they defaced those statues. A month or so and the math will be more accurate but that's a bit of a stretch, right Captain?"

"Depends. Right now this is the only thing on our plate..."

"Something else to consider as well," Ingersol broke in, "And I don't know if I've mentioned this but... Extra-galactic! This planet has seen things we may never even get to imagine. Things that have left their trace on it somewhere and things we can learn from. Even if we never end up finding out who carved those statues or who defaced them."

"I don't think so. We're here til we get some answers," Kami declared. "We've been stymied twice now and I want this one! And anyone who objects can get out here..."

[Sunset]

Far Beneath Ambrosia, Southern Anuke...

"I feel as though I am repeating myself, but I am not the exploring type," Dr. Ambrose emphasized as he passed his hand under the rounded hemisphere at the bottom of the floating column to seemingly no ill effect or, perhaps more importantly to the unwilling explorer, encountering any physical explination for the hovering object. "But this is still absolutely fantastic!"

He stood, rubbed his gloved hands together, cracked his knuckles, and leaned in to give the object the hardest shove his battered old relic of a body could muster. It did not move a millimeter but he stepped back to nearly stumble before one of his Minions put a hand out to steady him.

"See there? Quite unmoving!"

It was time for a more scientific approach, however, and he fumbled at the clasp to a pouch at his waist for a moment before smoothly pulling out a hand sensor and turning it on, "Must really invent a better method of keeping those closed..."

'They have, Doctor." Agent Sixteen, who stood just apart from the rest of his Minions towards the other end of the platform and the opposite floating monolith drew his attention to her own pouches, conveniently located just above her firmly rounded backside.

"Ah," he pretended to examine them for a moment, "Buy some. New sensor pouches all around!"

"Yes, Doctor. I'll buy you one."

"Hmm? Ah, interesting!" The sensor, having completed its initial scans and telling him absolutely nothing of value, had managed to suck away his attention and he now studied it intently while toggling various options and spectrum on and off. Meanwhile It was, and continued to be, absolute in its steadfast attempts to deny him any data at all. Despite the seeming contradiction, this only served to increase his excitement. "You see? Nothing! Nothing at all. Which means..."

He scratched his head and then looked around the rest of the enormous chamber with its twisting pipes and hanging walls, "You know, I'm not exactly sure what it means. I'm a biologist, not a physicist. Agent Sixteen!" He snapped his fingers and the statuesque woman turned on one toe to display a long slash of cleavage and a questioning look; "Doctor?"

"Kidnap me a physicist! There should be one at the local university. White hair, ideally, with a friendly manner hidden under a gruff exterior. Male, but female will do in a pinch. Minion S1!" The Super-Minion stepped forward and stood stiff as a board awaiting his orders; "And you will assume command of the Minions while Agent Sixteen undertakes this task of utmost importance, understood?"

There was a long - perhaps too long - awkward pause as the Minion digested his orders. Her mouth started to move, started to open, closed firmly again, and there was the sudden realization that the Super-Minion had never had occasion to talk, "Yeeeees, Sirrr."

"Excellent. Now, as perhaps any effort that I may undertake at deciphering this mystery may be crippled by my sub-par Straight-A performance in Physics Classes, I propose that we instead embark on an exploration of this place. While the intriguing properties of these pillars might attract the eye, our time might be better spend looking for easier answers. Normally a call to split up to cover more ground would only lead to a disaster, however," the Doctor stepped back to consider the positive horde of Minions and Super-Minions armed with heavy weapons and body armor waiting their chance to be deployed in support of the Doctor and his nefarious goals. "I think we shall do just that. Minion S2, does your mouth work?"

"Sir!"

"Excellent! Then you will be in charge of the second group. You are to carefully and completely explore the passageway behind us, reporting anything you find as per your mental conditioning. In a matter such as this losses are to be expected and I will allow you to expend Minions in a reasonable manner, up to one-half of your allocated force, before calling for additional units. Super-Minions are to be reserved for only the most dire or arduous tasks. I hesitate to repeat myself, such was the expense and rigor associated with your conditioning, but report anything you find that fits your criteria. Now, go!"

With that sorted out he turned to his self-assigned objective; The dark passage at the far end of the platform. All around him Minions and their betters began to shuffle around as they were organized - conveniently - by even and odd numbers into their two respective parties with S1 taking over the organization of the Odds while the Doctor pondered the un-ponderable. When they had been assembled into their respective forces and divided out on each end of the platform, the platform promptly collapsed to send the whole assembly plummeting into the abyss...

[Sunset]

SDF-Levanto, Arriving at the Reception Diamond, Central...

"I feel like a stuffed oxen prepared for the feast," Taidasha - former Lieutenant, former Warlord, and now Governor - grumbled as she paced the deck in her equally ceremonial armor. It was not the armor that had won her the rule of a fallen colony on the fringe of Republic space with its motif of skulls and terror over a layer of space-age (and nearly sword-proof) fabric; Instead it was pretty. And uncomfortable, with its layers of furs and leather to indicate the planet's Scandinavian heritage and chainmail bernie dangling to her waist and the thick belt that held it to her narrow waist. And awkward, with hard plate pauldrons and a thick gorget that emerged from the mail to encircle her thick neck both worked with the stylized image of the sunburst of the Republic. But it was not heavy. There were few things that might be considered heavy to a female Troll; A pair of oxen, a moderately sized house, and of course the burden of leadership.

It depended on the house, really.

On her adopted homeworld of Sakaldale many homes were still in the style of a single room with a loft where the family slept. Technology had ensured that the wife tending the hearth was now gossiping with her neighbor via a floating hologram and that the food in the cooking pot had been grown with modern farming methods but there was still a certain pace to progress. This was part of her burden as she worked to shepard the planet back into the era it had fallen from and, some bright spark had decided, a good reason to send her and her consort as the Republic's representatives; Actual nobility and all that.

"A vacation would be riding together to the Golden Reaches! Perhaps there would be bandits along the way..."

"Aye, its been a while since we've had some bandits to deal with;" Or anything that might be considered 'fun' by the standard of the son of a warchief, really. Raised with a sword or spear in his hands and the stout backs and strong arms of his fellows beside him, Prince Agnar had been born to the clash of arms and the blood-sharp clarion call of battle. A few years as the Prince-Consort and as a father had softened him out but mornings on the training ground with the other guards had kept the looming blond in formidable shape.

"I'd hoped to sail south with you come spring for the negotiations with the men of the Burning Lands;" Who were known to settle even the smallest dispute with a spirited duel to first blood, "But perhaps something here will provide suitable entertainment."

"Only if it's an open bar..."

[Sunset]

SDF-Al Kaphrah, Dajani System (GEC-1025062), Gamma Quadrant...

"What do we have, Ensign?" Lieutenant Commander Example put her hand in the shoulder of the young Kitsune's chair and bent to look down at the sensor console where he was working. Data flowed over various readouts and several projected holograms hovered over the smooth glass of the display as he moved his quick fingers here and there accompanied by the occasional mental command.

"I'm waiting on the active sensor returns;" Over the vast distances of stellar space some of the most basic imaging and data gathering techniques took minutes to reach their target, bounce back, and return with the gathered information. There were ways to boost the speed but it was often a sacrifice of one thing for another; The faster the technique, the more specific and less big-picture the data acquired would be. "But here's what we have for passives..."

A picture of the far off planet appeared across the entire front wall of the Al Kaphrah's bridge, a floor to ceiling display that showed the distant world in crystal clarity and fed via the array of sensors that occupied their traditional place on the underside of the tiny starship's saucer-shaped hull. In front of it and lower a second display lit up to show a more technical and nuanced view of a planet encircled by stark red arrows nestled inside softly glowing wireframes that showed the exaggerated outline and thus sometimes the known identity of the objects in question. Orbits and trajectories were also marked with a timer showing the latency between how long ago the reflected photons had left the source and the current ship's time. Various labels appeared showing technical information where needed or in several cases a large question mark to indicate something that was new to the databases that held the vast reserves of data important to the ship's mission.

Foremost to the Lieutenant Commander - A small ship such as the Spectra-Class only rated a single-gold commanding officer - was the fleet of ships in orbit of the distant world. One had a label listed next to it and as if to read her mind the fresh-faced Ensign at the tactical station spoke up, essentially reading off the database entry as she pulled the marked ship to the forefront of the holographic sphere with a thought.

"Unknown civilization, unknown species. But a derelict matching this specification was found in orbit of GEC-97525D;" The Lieutenant Commander gave a soft grunt and tapped at a virtual console that appeared under her waiting fingertips to pull up the ship and report in question, "By the Ibt al-Jauza, recovered by SDF-Bardeen, and towed to Outpost Thalassa for tear-down and examination. All passengers and crew deceased, occupants had a plant-based biology and their construction techniques incorporate many bio-organic aspects."

"That's not very far away," Example noted, cross-referencing the report with their current location. In fact, it put the Thalassa as a rather more distant location for the recovery operation than the closer and more convenient Chuh-Yu San in the Liu Xiu System, where the Al Kaphrah had just put in an appearance before departing on its survey mission. From a security standpoint it made sense, however; The Thalassa outpost was deep inside the Alpha Quadrant in the Raumreich periphery where any investigation could take place in a safe, secure, and importantly out-of-the-way place where inquiring ships were unlikely to show up at random.

"Yes, ma'am. Practically neighbors."

That too was an important tidbit and she filed it away for her report. Given the number of ships and the activity level shown on the display, they were likely either near or already inside the unknown civilization's territory - if such things as borders actually had any meaning in the vastness of galactic space. That brought her back to the image on the main display; "How is their invasion going?"

It had to be one or the other and from their position far above the system plane at what would be conveniently described as a few degrees off Galactic North, the Al Kaphrah was in the perfect position to just sit back and watch. That there was something going on was evident and while the telescopic images were just a tad too long-range to show more detail given the enormous distances, the movement of ships and the occasional burst of energy where a weapon of some kind intersected the atmosphere gave a good impression of rapid military activity. That there were no ships in orbit that significantly deviated from the construction of the first, as well as the maneuvering patterns observed, was a good indication that the traffic was one-way and that whoever or whatever was on the planet below them was having an unpleasant day.

"One sided;" It was an accurate assessment from the Tactical Officer and one echoed by the Ensign at the Sensor Console; "No incoming fire on the orbiting fleet, no damage observed to any of their ships. Spectrography of the planet's atmosphere indicates a large amount of hydrocarbons and carbon soot that would suggest industrial activity and efficiency equal to..." A graph of various levels of industrial activity, pollution output, and the like appeared inset to the main screen and comparisons appeared until a reasonably narrow band was established; "A number of civilizations, but the notable data point is their technological level, which puts them at anywhere from early industrial age to a very polluting post-modern and capable of no reasonable threat to our ship - and by reasonable extension, their ships - except in an outlier situation."

"How far along are they?"

"That's going to take active sensor returns, but given the statistical force imbalance, they are probably already at a dominance level and headed towards the long tail of mopping up. If it is an invasion. The salvage report from the Thalassa does have a very preliminary language translation module attached. Shall we go ask?"

The incredulous look that passed across her face for a moment was all the answer the Ensign needed but his commanding officer filled in the details anyway; "Not our system, not our planet."

And in fact the warning she'd received in her mission briefing from Fleet had been even more explicit - the Gamma Quadrant was considered the Wild West. Anything she did outside of planned mission objectives would be on her own head and, implicitly, on the heads of the crew she was responsible for.

"We're in a good spot for the moment. We'll watch, take notes, and see what happens. Keep your foot on the accelerator," she turned to the officer at the combined helm and navigation station, "But for right now this isn't our show - we're just spectators."

[Sunset]

Thang Long Citadel, Near D'Zytendi City, N'Xypndiltn...

'The smell is enough to drive one mad,' Inspector Min said with a grimace as he pulled the wooden cork off the top of one of the pottery jars and took a careful whiff. 'Either it has rotted or your species has a surprising tolerance for the foul.'

Tradia caught only the tail end of the odor but it was enough for her to nearly gag, putting the latter explanation into the grave, 'They masked it under the smell of burning F'Noross leaves. When they are dried and hung in bunches, they have a subtle smell but when they are wet and burned it can hide anything. It was a punishment task for the youngest warriors to toss burning bundles into the pits...' A vague memory of edging up to one of the open pits where the tribe deposited their waste, nose pinched shut and mouth firmly closed while an enormous bale burned on the end of a long stick drifted across her memory and she made a disgusting face, 'Ugh. Indoor plumbing is pretty fucking awesome, now that I think about it.'

'Amusing as your facial expressions are, I am not drawing any connecting between this and the question of Prince Nesar's involvement in the assassination attempt. Perhaps some chemist or historian will find these of interest,' he packed a small assortment of the poisons and toxins away in a pouch and hung it on the outside of his small pack, 'But we should return to our search before the guards outside become aware of our presence.'

The Xypndi agreed with a nod and the two retraced their steps to find themselves outside the closet in the Prince's grand bedroom. Even for the scale of the wealthy Republic it was grandiose, with a raised platform surrounded by drawn curtains and another layer around the bed itself. All of these were tied back for the moment, secured to pillars that also carried thick beams that crossed the room and were carved into shapes both fantastic and delicate. Bronze rings with tassels wound through them hung from the mouths of dragons and other fantastic creatures and the walls were all decorated with hand-painted panels of thick paper in similarly carved frames. In an alcove was a desk and chair arranged to face a small circular window that looked out to the distant hills and here was where the Inspector concentrated his attention.

'In the Empire, there might have been some scraps of paper or draft copies to alert us to his correspondence but here, far from his homeworld... There is something missing here.'

'What?'

'A link,' Min looked around the desk as though something so ethereal might suddenly emerge. 'Supposing he was involved or even aware of the attack, how was he? It is not as simple as writing a note to be passed off by an unknowing courier. Either he would have to use the communications link to Thanh-Tonh;' Which they both knew had been destroyed, though the when didn't have a direct impact on their investigation, 'Which I can assure you is monitored by our intelligence services if not by your own, or the letter would have had to be taken to Thanh-Tonh by courier. For security I would choose the latter. But the Prince has wisely taken his correspondence with him. But,' he slid a drawer open, 'Not all of it.'

Inside was a bundle of carefully arranged pieces of paper that didn't seem to bear the Prince's hand at all. Instead they were print-outs of various websites that contained information that someone in the connected Republic would just leave where they had found it.

'But a Prince likes their paper. Something to hold on to while they organize their thoughts. Careful, deliberative. And,' he pulled one sheet out to the middle of the desk, 'Telling. A schedule for flights between here and Thanh-Tonh. I find it unlikely that he was planning to visit, don't you?'

[Sunset]

SDF-Dogana, Ares Cluster Patrol, Alpha Quadrant...

"...TRIPWIRE changes a lot of things, Admiral, and the Instrumentality-Class is one aspect of that change."

"One potential aspect of that change. God," Jamie protested, sliding into the chair behind the glass-topped desk that was practically the only piece of furniture in her small office, "Why does this sound like a sales pitch?"

"Because it is," the designer from Liquid gave a little shrug. She barely remembered his name; Only that he was-wasn't here, he had an appointment, and that it was for one of those things that Admirals - at least in her opinion - didn't want to do but had to do. "We don't see this as something that will affect your area of Fleet operations directly but that's also part of why I'm here to talk to you. You have the skill-set but the perspective of an outsider. If I ask someone in the Strike Fleets, they are probably going to give me a very yes or no answer when what I'm looking for is nuance. So I'm going to try to sell this thing to you," he pointed at the little hovering hologram of the proposed new class of starships, "And you're going to try to put me off like a used car salesman."

"Get some exercise, you overweight lard-ass."

The blunt response stung for a moment. Unlike the Admiral, who was if not in peak physical condition at least nearly there, the designer was more typical for one of his profession, which tended towards either rail-thin or tanker car and his overly broad stomach and heavyset build put him firmly into the tanker car portion of the rail yard, "...ow."

"Yeah, hurts, doesn't it? Just like trying to buy a car," she smiled, her tone just the slightest bit mean. "So now that we've established that I don't like sales weasels, why don't you tell me why I shouldn't just walk off the lot?"

"Well, I..." He struggled for a few more sentences, trying to gain steam against a headwind fueled by a vindictive coal vein a mile wide. "So... TRIPWIRE changes a lot of things, and this ship," he paused to try to pull her attention to the holographic ship and its hard-edged militaristic lines, "Is part of that change. Naval warfare has already been changing from a Blue Navy-style island-hopping campaign for years now, with an emphasis on parrying an opponent's thrusts while targeting their military infrastructure, and the Instrumentality is a continuation of that. Instead of reducing an opponent's ability to wage war system-by-system, TRIPWIRE will allow us to simultaneously strike a huge number of targets in a saturation attack that will make any kind of defense ineffective."

"Which they can then do to us."

"If they have TRIPWIRE."

"Which we hope they don't. Will this help us when they do?"

"Well..." Once again his gums flapped uselessly, "I... Yes. Yes! I mean, why wouldn't it? Instrumentality-Class starships will be directly integrated to the TRIPWIRE array, similar to the Director's Prominence-Class, except they are designed around the offense instead of the defense. Against a similar saturation attack, they could be deployed as a counter presuming there is enough warning."

"So we're setting ourselves up for a one-second-to-midnight doomsday scenario? That doesn't sound like a great sales pitch there, Mr..." Her eyes flickered as she checked her schedule, "Rajewich. Buy my car or the galaxy will be consumed in war! I recommend you put that on a banner, and have one of those wildly-waving inflatable tube things shouting it outside of your dealership."

"If we don't, someone else will."

"Again, on the banner. Maybe inset to the first; Buy Your Next Car Here or the Galaxy Will Be Consumed in War! If We Don't, Someone Else Will!"

"You're not even giving me a chance here, Admiral..."

"No, I'm not. One of the reasons why we do things how we do things is because, for all the temporizing about shades of gray, we are a moral civilization. There are plenty of star-faring states out there that do what they do because an invisible hand says this will be fun and sends millions of men and women off to fight and die over another planet that is just like the one right next door. Emperors dream of Empire and mothers and fathers cry over lost children or even worse justify their deaths to themselves as a cultural imperative while their Emperor sits comfortable and safe on his throne, free to throw more lives away for another mark on his map. When we have people on ships, we give those people a chance to make the moral decision and find a solution beyond the immediacy of mindless slaughter."

"Which," Rajewich looked around for another chair and, finding none, he half-collapsed against the wall to hold it up with his thick shoulder, "I agree with you. But this ship isn't for that moment. It is for the time when we must kill, when we must destroy. If we must - and you are here for those times when we must just as much for those times when we don't - wouldn't you rather be able to return to those parents and tell them that their sons and daughters didn't die because you were able to respond in a manner that didn't risk their lives?"

"Maybe. I hate the fifty shades of gray though. Sometimes the right answer under the circumstances is only necessary because we went with the easy answer a few steps before. That probably puts me at odd with policy and realpolitik, but maybe we should talk about what's under the hood instead of why you think I need to buy this car. It's a gunboat, right? No utility at all."

"Nice way to start things off, but yes. A better way to put it is that it is a gun. There's no crew - not a whole lot of maintenance space either - and most of it is just one big weapon system. We took the Cyclone torpedo system and expanded it out to the entire saucer."

"A big ring of shooty death."

"With particle cannon mounted inside the ring. It never fails to amaze me how some people think that a fancier gun makes it better; All that energy you end up using to make that fancy gun do those fancy things could be going into straight firepower that will work every time, all the time. Anyway; The whole thing is designed around TRIPWIRE. It gathers the targeting information for the attack run off-board, feeds it to the NBGS which then lines up the individual targets. The ship comes into the system, unloads all its ordinance and puts whatever beams it can on target, then runs. Depending on how concentrated the targets in the system are, we're talking seconds to a minute. Next stop is a CORE Station for a reload and relauch and, because it might as well be solid state, they can fire the whole ship out of the same accelerator they use for the HDMs. So I guess you could call the Instrumentality a 'smart' HDM. Cause if we spot a super-capital or something... No crew," he made a diving motion with his hand, ramming it broadside into his open palm.

"A push-button warship."

"For a push button war. You don't have to like it, Admiral. Just figure out how to make the most of it..."

[Sunset]

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

"Alright; Sit down, let your pants out, put on your tin-foil helmet, and get ready for some real Men In Black shit cause I've got a theory and it might just be backed up by facts!"

Doctor Brilla was in full wild-eyed-theory-on-parade mode and, for the moment, everyone else was along for the ride. The holographic physicist stopped for a moment, plucked off a heel, and then the other joined it with a kick as she sent the shoes flying outside of the camera's inclusion zone. The hair was next, dropping down over her shoulders as she shook out the ugly ponytail that had accumulated throughout the day.

"Not a peep show, boys," she finished, even as she undid a couple buttons on her shirt. "Not unless you can slip some Jim Beam into my milkshake;" which had just appeared in her hand as she grabbed it off the counter to take a long slurp through pursed lips and finish it off with a swallow and a smack, "Nope. Ready for the crazy talk?"

"Ideally quickly," Captain Waretram noted, sitting back in his chair and steepening his thick fingers. "I have a ship to run."

"Then right to the point," though she didn't follow her own suggestion, putting down the milkshake and lifting a foot to pull off a sheer stocking. "What if we're not looking at a horribly advanced post-Singularity civilization that is capable of creating artificial black holes and other various forms of singularity but instead we're looking at a single absolutely fucking gigantic organism? And I'm not talking a civilization analogous to a biological organism, but instead a singular entity with all of the classic characteristics. The artificial event horizons and the giant crystal whatever-they-are beyond them? Organs. The crystals we've found at the various sites? Cells. The probes? Sense organs. And all this?"

She turned to look at the main display and the blinding white dot that was the singularity, "Reproduction. The only thing that doesn't fit is the Druth'Haari, unless we think of them as antibodies though even that isn't really accurate. But I don't think we can really draw an exact parallel here to any particular function. If this theory is even close, these - or this - things operate on a scale that is so ridiculously massive that any comparisons eventually break down. We're talking about something so big that it can manipulate local gravity by wiggling its toe, and that could be exactly what we're seeing here. Or it could be something else entirely."

"And this is why I shouldn't drink at work."

[Sunset]

Thang Long Citadel, Near D'Zytendi City, N'Xypndiltn...

One wrong turn followed another and Tradia found herself in a section of the tunnels that they hadn't seen on their way through to the Citadel and its maze of empty rooms and echoing hallways. There was a moment when she was about to turn back and check her mental map but something on the floor stopped her and she knelt to hover a hand over a wide trail of footprints pressed into the dust. They were older, though they were not Xypndi but distinctly Tonhi with their longer stride and sharper edged boots as opposed to the torn edges of the native sandals. A scattered streak wandered through them, however, obliterating most of them as it swept back and forth in a lazy motion. Ahead the passage turned off to one side into a larger chamber and behind...

She swiveled in place, following the tracks with her eyes as they lead back in the direction of the palace.

'Another entrance? I didn't see any;' But there were a lot of hidden rooms and side chambers where anything from a rug to a dresser could have hidden a passageway. 'Which way?'

'If we're satisfying our curiosity, then towards where we have not been. These marks,' Inspector Min pushed a toe at the odd trail that wound through the other tracks, 'Draw my attention as well. I am not sure what they suggest...'

'I have an idea, but you're not going to like it.'

Tradia's dark warning proved fortuitous. A thin, winding brown trail clotted its way through the accumulated grime and stopped just at their feet as they rounded the corner to find a much larger chamber that looked out across the water through a curtain of vegetation and a jaw of cruel rock that obscured the chamber from the outside world. A crude throne cobbled together out of several ramshackle pieces sat in the center and long-dead candles puddled on either side. The body of a young woman was tied firmly in place at ankle and wrist and her head lolled at a sickening angle. Even from where they stood, they could both see that there was something wrong with her beyond death and Tradia crept closer while the Inspector slowly circled.

"This is a foul place," he warned, skipping the silence of their Augmented communications to speak aloud for the first time since the shore of the lake. "These symbols," he circled one carved into the floor, careful to avoid even touching it, "I do not know them fully, but there are warnings. If they are found, we are to report it immediately..."

"She looks like she's been drained..."

The Adjutant ignored him for a moment, reaching out to touch the skin of the dead woman. She was no Xypndi but what she had been was hard to say; Her skin was drawn and tight and where the warrior's fingertips brushed it long flakes fell off in thin layers.

"A sacrifice," Min hissed. "To some foul god. And she was not alone." His foot had touched a pile of dirty clothing and turned it aside to reveal a long bone that was unmistakable in its origins. Shoveling more aside he revealed a handful of skulls and broken bones as well as trinkets and amulets broken and soaked in long dried blood. All were inscribed with the same symbols that decorated the floor and Min kicked these away from the pile in clear disgust. "I cannot believe that Li Nesar was involved in something so heinous but this is his own house - He cannot be innocent even if he only ignored it! I must report this to my superiors..."

"Does this mean he was involved in the attack?"

"Perhaps, but perhaps not. I cannot see how one is related to the other without knowing what all this is. But we still have the question of the ship's schedule; Perhaps that will shed additional light."

[Sunset]

Far, Far Underneath Ambrosia, Southern Anuke...

"Am I alright? Still alive? All in one piece?" Ambrose patted his chest and legs and, rightly convinced by empirical evidence that everything was still intact, he opened his eyes to look around.

It hadn't been quite the fall or quite the ending he'd been expecting. Instead of a long trail of Minions splashed against various pieces of unidentified plumbing, there were now a large number of burly and slender forms - as well as one white-haired old man in armor that didn't quite fit him - dangling in mid-air just under where the platform had been. Where the platform itself was remained a mystery but a cursory glance into the depths showed nothing but terrible darkness and a sudden suspicion that it might be returning at any moment. The Doctor looked around from Minion to Minion but without a doubt they all remained as helpless as him, each reaching out to try to grab something - anything - to pull themselves back to a firm footing. In fact, if one were to draw a comparison, they resembled the pods of a certain Georgia staple as they dangled suspiciously around the hovering columns.

"In the absence of supporting evidence, one must experiment..." Stephen muttered, pulling a random object out of his pack and winding up his softball arm, "Are we suspended, or are we floating?"

An equal and opposite reaction followed and he bumped up against his objective, which was the large floating slab of Minion 53. Bony fingers grabbed onto his tactical vest and armor and, limb over limb, the Doctor pulled himself up until he was perched on the Minion's shoulders, "Floating. And if we are floating," he held out a hand to try to determine if there was any flow of air past," And as there is not, the same force that keeps those pillars aloft must have also been supporting the platform and now us. The question is - if I were to find myself in better circumstances - why did the platform disappear?"

"Perhaps not the most immediate concern, however," he looked around, judging his position. The two groups were hanging around the two floating columns like a collection of peanuts under their plants and this coincidence raised the customary question, "Although, perhaps my relative safety is more due to location rather than intent? If so," he reached out and made a feeble swipe at the next closest Minion, "My position may be indeed precarious."

Despite his concerns neither the platform nor the Minions reappeared or disappeared and through a feat of gymnastics most would have thought impossible for a southern gentleman he managed to cross the living bridge to a place of relative safety. Linking themselves together with ropes and belts the rest of the crew followed until, one by one, they found themselves crowded onto the narrow alcove that presumably led from one chamber to the next but in all the confusion it had not been noted that the open passage had been replaced by two large doors that bore a suspiciously similar appearance to the vanished platforms. This left only a bare meter available for the Doctor and far too many Minions; "A truly intolerable situation. Note to self - create smaller Minions..."

[Sunset]

SDF-Ojeni, Around the Dragon's Eye, Delta Quadrant...

"A lucky turn, really," Doctor Vikosio admitted as she swiped her fingers across the console. In front of her, sitting in the middle of a ring of three other similar consoles with a large ceiling-mounted projector above them, a holographic image of the planet below was laid out in startling detail. While the unit mounted on the Ojeni's bridge was larger, this one was capable of both more clarity and more detail. Located at the nexus of the Explorer's science labs it was commonly used for just this sort of application and as brilliant points began to appear along with data sets and faint lines tracing their way around the curve of the planet other researchers began to stop and look, leaning on the railing that surrounded the shining blue-black sphere.

"What I'd envisioned as a dating technique has also turned into a tracking model as well. As soon as I had a good baseline technique for measuring the rates of mineralization and erosion, I requested a large number of samples;" A process that had taken several days, according to Commander Sloan's mission logs, "To help refine the results. With this kind of technique, especially over only a few days, the accuracy is going to be low but the larger the sample pool, the better the model and the more accurate the individual results will be. But when I started to run the samples, I found another interesting pattern..."

Dates - rough estimates based on the Doctor's technique and showing a wide band of possibilities - began to appear alongside the existing data points with the various connecting lines shifting in color to indicate a flow from one to another.

"Which is that there is a definite timeline developing; A flow from newer to older that also follows the geography of the undersea mountain ranges. That would lead me to believe that what we're looking at is some kind of migrating civilization where they build - or built - and then defaced their previous construction as they moved on."

"And that would lead me to believe that we might be able to locate them, or at least their last location, by working our way forward to the youngest ruins," Kami broke in. "Right?"

"Right. I'd suggest working both ways though. Finding their origins could be just as important as finding their current status and it will make the dating more accurate if we find that their civilization has gone extinct."

One of the other researchers leaned in close, "Do you think that is a possibility? So far we're not finding anything that would indicate a culture of violence or of need. In fact, it would seem fairly idyllic; They have the time and resources to build and then abandon these enormous temple projects and for what reason? Vanity? What we're seeing in terms of construction technique and style is extraordinarily uniform. While the layout of a single complex might vary, they use the same construction techniques and even the same art styles. Right down to the body forms and shape of the pillars. So why move on? We're not," he read off some of the dates, "Looking at a particularly long period between construction. A few hundred years here, a few hundred there. I'd almost call it a slow crawl rather than any kind of quick process."

"Which is why I agree with Doctor Vikosio," the Captain said, stepping over to one of the consoles. "Let's do some extrapolation and see if we can't speed things up. Map the land forms to the average time between construction, adjusting for the volume of available undersea terrain, and skip backwards and forwards, go gather more samples, and see if the technique matches and what we find at those forwards and backwards locations."

"Sounds good. The complication is that they - whoever they are or were - were clearly capable of crossing or even building through the deeper seas. We're getting some results back," the Doctor highlighted a few outlying results, "But the specialty probes take a lot more time to reach those depths and we only have a few of them."

Kami shrugged, "We can only go with what we've got; Let's get on it and see where it takes us."

[Sunset]

SDF-Ixutsangi, Outskirts of the Feknarthi Imperium, The Alpha Quadrant...

"Now remember," Timmons reached over his shoulders to grab the edge of his undershirt and pull it over his head and fling it onto the bench with the rest of his uniform, "I was a Marine first. Soldier-boosts and all. So if you're gonna hit me, you better make it a good hit or it just isn't going to count, okay?"

Lae didn't need to be warned once let alone twice; Cut was an adequate word to describe the Commander's chest and stomach with each individual muscle of his hard stomach standing out in hard detail against his chocolate brown skin. With a lack of physical company, he'd returned to the gym and taken off whatever body fat the past few months had added and replaced it with a detailed sculpture of the Human form that had the young Cyar looking somewhat anxious.

"You ready?"

"No..." But he swung anyway, aiming a reasonably solid punch at the soft spot of skin between the Commander's jaw and his razor-sharp pectoral muscles. It would have been a staggering blow if he'd have connected; Bruising or better yet crushing the man's windpipe and leaving him gasping for his next breath.

Timmons was faster though. He brushed his hand up against the back of Lae's forearm, turning the blow to the side and bringing his own balled fist up under his ribs to smash him in what would have been the kidney. The biology might not have been the same but the effect was reasonably close and he sagged back, clutching his side and holding up his arm to block the next blow. The ex-Marine had pulled his punch but the blow still felt agonizingly painful. There wasn't time for sympathy though as the senior officer followed it up with a feint across his body and a high knee that sank into his stomach and left him curled up. A rock-solid fist swung down and he felt the snap and pop as it struck the base of his skull and he fell to the ground.

"I can't move!"

"That's because you're paralyzed;" A foot went up and then down, hitting him right at the base of the jaw and skull and forcing his neck sideways until there was an even more foul-sounding pop, "And now you're dead. Ixutsangi, Reset to baseline," he ordered, the computer acknowledging the command with a chirp as he held out a hand.

"I though this was supposed to be training." It sounded just like the complaint it was and, despite the simulated reality of the pain and injuries, the Cyar still sagged down onto his knees to breath heavily. "Not beating me up and then killing me."

"It is," his opponent acknowledged just as the door opened and three more people entered the training room. Both turned, though Lae acknowledged one of the newcomers with a low whistle - Trinya's selected workout wear was bordering on the non-existent - while Timmons nodded at one and grinned at the other, "Commander Pham, I didn't know you were interested in unarmed combat lessons."

"I..." The shorter Asian man stopped, somewhat taken aback by the Commander's impressive form despite his own athletic build, but the Seeker put a hand on his shoulder and topped his reluctance with her own embarrassing statement; "The Commander wants to fuck me and this is his way of trying to impress me with his physical capabilities."

That had Trinya nearly doubled up with laughter and as Timmons smile grew wider the Commander's blush only grew darker.

"Alright, well then," Timmons regained some composure and looked between the three, "Five makes it a little bit harder to balance but I think maybe the four of you can take me. That," he looked to Lae, "Is one of the first lessons of unarmed combat. Don't come at it from the perspective of a fair fight. Yes, I'll teach you techniques that will help you..."

His eyes rolled back in his head and he sagged forward, falling face-first onto the deck and sprawling out while behind him the triumphant form of Commander Pham rose behind him, the bench that he had swung down on the Commander's head held high as he roared in victory, "Hayaaaa!"

"Nice. You won," Trinya smirked as Timmons shook his head and began to stagger to his feet. "You'll get the girl," and she pushed Deania forward to stand there with her hands behind her back rocking back and forth on her heels, suitably emphasizing her feminine attributes, "But have you done any research into Duab'Akii biology yet?"

"He'll get his chance!" The Seeker looked at him and fluttered her eyelashes in the best imitation of what she'd seen in old Human movies. "My hero..."

[Sunset]

Thang Long Citadel, Near D'Zytendi City, N'Xypndiltn...

"I vowed I would never do that again and I re-double that vow," Inspector Min gasped as he tore the re-breather out of his mouth and leaned up against the closest tree, sucking in big lungfuls of crisp morning air.

"No time to rest now..."

There was a low roar overhead and both looked up to where the sculpted under-carriage of Tradia's hovercar was just coming into view through the treetops. A sliding descent and it dropped into the gap between four large trees. A pop, the doors swung up, and the Adjunct climbed inside. There was little reason for stealth now but many for speed and in a moment the doors had closed and the sleek car lanced into the sky.

Touching the controls, the Xypndi set their next destination before activating the communications display; "Executor Miranna," she instructed, adding; "She's probably asleep."

But it didn't take long for the Executor to appear as a ghostly image in front of the windshield and this slowly solidified as the car determined the conversation was now the central focus rather than the jungle covered hills whizzing by below as they arched towards a far-distant city, "It's four in the morning so this has to be - had better be - important. How'd your investigation go?"

She didn't quite look like it was four in the morning though; Instead of her underwear or nothing at all, the Executor was wearing a rumpled looking variant on the Defense Force's dress uniform in solid black and decorated with the carved wooden icons that were still an important part of the native culture. While the camera on the other end gave no indication of where precisely she was, it would be a fair guess that she was still at the office organizing the civilian response to the potential threat of a Roanian attack. Any sleep she had been getting would have been on the couch in her office.

"The Prince wasn't home, but we sniffed around. We've got a potential lead - he was keeping track of the passenger liner schedule between here and Thanh-Tonh - and there's something else too," Tradia looked over to the Inspector, the hologram following her to settle eyes on the man, who looked slightly uncomfortable though it wasn't immediately clear whether what the reason was until he spoke; "I hesitate to ask such a favor from the representative of a government hostile to the Dragon Throne but the circumstances are extraordinary," Inspector Min explained, a deferential tone in his voice.

"There is substantial evidence that the Prince was involved or had knowledge of the activities of a death-cult occurring on his estate - a cult that is or was Roanian in origin. This involved the murder of individuals and a presumed sacrifice but here I do not have all of the information I would like to have at hand," he explained. "Instead a general notice has been issued to all Inspectors to be on the lookout for any use of the symbols in question with orders to immediately report them to my superiors if they were uncovered. During all my time in the service I have never seen them and merely assumed this order was another relic from days past - an order given out because it had so been done to the previous generation and was now tradition. I can now say I regret that assumption. But I now find myself forced to ask a favor of you."

"Given the connection between the Prince Li Nesar, his possible involvement with the attack on the Imperial Consort, and the appearance of these cult symbols, I would normally make such a report immediately. However, as my superiors are on Mars and separated from the events back home by many layers of bureaucracy, I believe this should be instead reported to Internal Harmony on Rudan Prime instead. The communications I have here are not sufficient nor authoritative enough to that task and thus I ask that you allow me to use your communications to give that report, perhaps through your diplomatic offices."

"Hmm, alright," the Executor considered, "Not something I have any idea of how to do, but there's plenty of Admirals and whatnot around here who probably do. I'll make it happen. What about you?" She turned back to Tradia just as a sparkling lance of sunlight reflected from the pinnacle of the far-distance pyramid city shot over her shoulder to illuminate the inside of the car for a moment before the windscreen darkened. "Anything you need?"

"Sure, if we're pulling rank. We're headed to the starport to talk to the liner company. See if they'll let us check their passenger logs or whatever for the Prince. They probably have security recordings as well but that all takes a warrant. Can you find me a Judge?"

[Sunset]

Jer'Don City, GEC-99791B (Alice)...

"It's either either brilliant or insane," Evening declared, peering over the long edge of the airship, a firm grip on one of the posts that - with a connecting chain - was the only protection one would have from being swept over the side. For the moment and for the next week or more the airship would remain firmly grounded however. The central superstructure had been built and the light wooden hoops that would form the skeleton of the bags were under construction while below them the enormous multi-segmented balloons were being sewn together by a small army of seamstresses. Further out and scattered to each side of the sprawling airfield much the same work continued on the flying wing fighter-bombers that the finished airship would carry and at the very far end of the field huge lorries were unloading the gun mounts that would be fitted to the underside. It was truly an inspiring sight with a thousand people coming together to make that one single instrument of war...

"FIRE!"

"...insane."

Looking around for the call, she finally caught a whiff of smoke and the tracer that started thin and then burst into a large plume even as she watched. At the opposite end of the craft were four enormous engines patterned after the internal compression-combustion models used on the fighter-bombers and it was from one of these that the red flicker of flame was rising. Workers were already racing towards it, some grabbing up buckets or blankets as they ran, but the ripple-pop of snapping wood and crackling fabric said it was already too late. The flames that had crept along unnoticed were now vigorously attacking the second engine and by the time she was close enough to observe the damage there was no chance of saving either. Water hissed and steam billowed as they threw everything they had at it but it was only the luck of the incomplete gas bags that brought it to a halt.

The rest of the afternoon was devoted to cleanup and recrimination. As soon as the fire was out, one of the technicians who had been working on the engine was hauled forward and thrown to the ground and proclaimed - vigorously - to be the perpetrator. Notable to the Agent was the repeated use of his clan name instead of his own and, as angry glances started to trade sides, she retreated to the reasonable safety of one of the small huts that sat nearby. A gaggle of bunnies stood at the windows and, if it had been a Human world, popcorn would have been passed around. Punches flew and strong arms reached for wrench and pipe while the presumed guilty clan fought to maintain its right to work and the others to push them out. Whether or not guilt had been squarely established was irrelevant; It was plain as day that the accidental fire was being used as a very deliberate excuse to eliminate a rival.

There was no question as to what Evening would do about it; Nothing.

[Sunset]

Gjen Sherojth Colony (GEC-3241), Coreward Expansion Zone, Alpha Quadrant...

It was a forgotten colony from a forgotten war; Nearly a century previous a small fleet of ships had been dispatched to colonize the system and extract its resources in secret, build ships and weapons of war with them, and thus fuel a conflict that had now passed into memory. Extraction operations had been established across a pair of planets and a half-dozen moons and the sprawling domes of artificial habitats had been fortified with deep bunkers and weapons batteries to protect the shipyards and docks that had emerged from the factories that sent black soot drifting through the negligible atmosphere. Generations of workers, laborers, and colonists had been born, raised, and died to craft a stronghold against a day that many hoped would come but never came. Eventually contact with their far masters ceased and turmoil took over the colony until chaos was replaced by the same strong, unrelenting fist that had ruled them from afar. Once again backs were bent to the labor of strife but now it was the struggle to control their own, to keep their inbred war-like nature under control and shape it until it could be again ready to strike at the enemy that had somehow silenced their ancestors.

A tiny ship had stumbled across the system during the re-survey effort that continued under Operation GRACEFUL JACKRABBIT and reported in. Transmissions were intercepted, decoded, and analyzed but it was already clear that the chance encounter had alerted the system's new masters to the presence of their old enemy. The question was now less about when to do something but what; If the newly-alerted colony and her iron-clad rulers put their minds to it, they could launch a campaign of raiding and destruction across the frontier systems that would sap much needed strength from the Republic's military might. With debates and counsels out of the way, the decision had been made to use that strength against the forgotten foe before it could put forward its own course of reckless action.

It all began with a single ship - SDF-Mississippi, a Venture-Class Heavy Explorer - that entered the system at the very edge of the system where the last of the orbiting worlds petered out to transition into the larger volume of the Kuiper-belt objects. She was moving fast and the moment she came out of space-warp in a long shower of rapidly decaying particles she surged forward again as her sublight engines ignited in a long burn of brilliant blue radiation that lit space behind her for a quarter-million kilometers as she raced along in a broad orbit around the distant star. Bright sparks of light flew from her sides as torpedoes sped from their launchers but this was not an attack but rather a prelude; Each of the canisters held not the power to destroy but the power to inform as a local version of the enormous TRIPWIRE array sprang up in her wake. Seconds, perhaps a minute, and the Mississippi was gone, disappearing in the same burst of particles that had heralded her arrival into real space.

A hundred more followed. It was no exact count but such was not needed; A fleet descended on the system and it brought war with it. Gross details picked up by the first scout and confirmed by the Mississippi were correlated with data being received from the sensors of the local TRIPWIRE network and forwarded to the ships of the attack fleet. Industrial centers, shipyards, maintenance facilities, and stations. Their targets were not the weapons of war but the sources of those weapons. Without the second the first would be useless and there was little the first could do; Like the ship before them, the oncoming ships were moving fast and only rushed on as they entered the system as close as they dared to their assigned targets. They came in two waves; Nova and Super Nova-Class Destroyers along with an even dozen of the new Instrumentality-Class Assault Cruisers behind them escorted by Impetus-Class flying as wingmen. A line was drawn through the system, sinuous and snake-like, connecting the dots of the various colonies, complexes, and installations with targets of opportunity for each marked out like the branches on a tree.

What they could not destroy the second wave would eliminate; Extinction-Class Battleships and Dawn-Class Dreadnoughts formed a core of ultra-heavy striking power that was in turn escorted by several groups of mixed Horizon-Class Frigates and Equinox-Class Heavy Cruisers with a scattering of the Nova-Class Destroyers to augment their hitting power. All of these emerged from space-warp in a fast-moving double-spearhead formation that lanced towards the first target with the combined flames of their burning engines streaking out behind them. There was no slowing down - this would not be a battle of fleet against fleet - and speed was salvation and protection.

A second passed and there was the first target and the most important; A sprawling lattice of docks and yards hung around one of the largest moons and cradled in its embrace were the next generation of warships that might have carried the dark-skinned warriors across the stars to worlds where the only thoughts of violence were the virtual or the weatherman. There was no picking and choosing of targets - all of these had already been assigned the moment the ships had entered the system. Instead there was only the sudden burst of cyan fire as energy beams crossed the gap and struck deep into the heart of ships still growing their protective carapaces under the disbelieving eyes of workers who were washed away as well by the bloom of hard radiation as beam punched through bulkhead and decking to scour the hearts free from the great beasts. Brilliant stars followed as torpedoes sped from their launchers in chaotic formation to burrow deep before rending asunder shipyard and production alike and sending spiraling pieces of both to pierce and splinter what beam and warhead did not destroy.

At the heart of it all lay two enormous beasts and it was these that the fleet now turned their collective guns against. One rose next to the other, a twin to the first, but the second only a shell still while crews raced to the first in a futile attempt to send her free before the attackers could take her. Particle cannon tore the second to melted embers but the first showed her colors as engines burned to tear her loose from the docks as men choked on vacuum and her Captain made the glad sacrifice of their lives in a bid to retain his own life or take some little vengeance. His orders were followed but they were to the last - no threat such as the leviathan could be allowed to roam free - and a lone ship plunged free from the formation as beams of crimson and red rose in greeting. A moment later the reunion was cataclysmic as the ramship plunged into her, the harsh reality of rampaging economy versus warborne aggression played out again as one ship annihilated the other in a triumphant explosion that tore the heart out of the crippled shipyard.

Ships streamed past and there was finally a response. Batteries on the moon's surface and aboard orbiting stations began to open up but it was here that forethought and experience once again proved their worth as the attackers continued to slide here and there along their path, trading places one with another or slowing minutely only to burst ahead a moment later. They were too fast and the fixed guns too solid in their defiance and as they sought out the nimble shapes that darted past and disappeared they were incinerated to burst forth in roaring detonations as torpedo and beam found their targets and spread destruction across the surface. More targets fell as the first wave passed and the second finished them in coordinated volleys of fire that flashed forth from each ship to cross on a single object and reduce it to nothing before moving to the next and the next. It would be after another moon and the first world had fallen into flames and ruin before a response could be made.

It came in the form of a riot of radiant markings spread out across the globe of the tactical display; A small armada of patrol ships, guardian cruisers and destroyers, as well as the bulk of the colony's regular fleet were in the midst of executing a tactical jump along the projected path of the Republic task force and it was here that the TRIPWIRE array came into the fore. Each brilliant dot was a warning as to the exact point where the incoming vessels would be transitioning from one point in real space to another. It was only a half-second of warning but for the advantage brought by the array it was all the time in the world. Tactical routines sorted and analyzed the patterns, determined which point would be accompanied in a moment by which ship, and new targets and new priorities were assigned.

Weapons began to fire even before the jump was completed; For the first few seconds - even a second - the ships would be vulnerable. Barely moving, they would present a simple target for the massed particle cannon fire that was already streaking across the void to where the ships would be. Long chains of torpedoes followed as launchers spun up to speed and spat death towards their opponents with each timed to arrive less than an eyeblink after the ship emerged. Men with the lust for battle on their faces torn apart in an instant as matter converted to energy and their lives faded away in the consideration of a thought. Hulls shattered and scattered and eyes went to displays only to witness their own last moments as the gray lance of a Republic ramship slammed into and through the largest targets to spread their glittering remains across the plane of the solar system. Here and there luck intervened and a ship survived to turn its guns on the on-rushing horde and here and there fate decided the end as a Republic starship plowed through a hailstorm to emerge scathed but vanquished or vanish into oblivion.

What the first had wrought the second finished; Held back as a mighty fist, the striking core of the armada came down on the brief remnants of the defending fleet to scatter it to the winds and the dark embrace of the galaxy. Cobalt lances sought out weakness and strength to ignore both and tear armor from hide and send breath spewing forth into the vacuum. There was no pause, no half-hearted attempt to turn back and finish off a defeated foe who had vanished from the field as suddenly as they had sought to arrive. The next target lay ahead and there was only the burn of drive and cold calculus of re-allocated targets as they continued along their course. A rain of nightmare fire washed the remaining targets away; With no fleet to defend them there was only to stand, fight, and die or to throw hands high and cower in surrender.

[Sunset]

SDF-Dogana, On Patrol, Ares Super-Cluster...

"...and that is our possible future," Admiral Falk declared, a tinge of both disgust and resignation in her voice. "War by the numbers."

The simulated attack on the mock colony had been, by the stilted conditions laid out, a rousing success. With a minimal loss of men and material the system had been secured and a complete takeover would have been assured. A stronghold system that would have provided a prime forward operations base in the seemingly endless competition to secure the vast reaches of space before someone else did.

"War is ultimately a battle of numbers," Katryna pointed out. "No matter how little or how much we like it when we take out all the intangible speeches about sovereign right, destiny, brave men and women, the will of the people, or the call of the gods, what we end up with is a question of economies and technologies. It is, I believe, fair to say that when a NationState claims they lack the will to fight it is simply a misdirection from the truth of the matter; They feel they cannot win and thus resort to diplomacy instead."

"And diplomacy often ends up with a lot of good people dead and a crisis put off until the next tin plated dictator rattles his saber," Jamie sighed, acknowledging the truth of it.

"It would be an awfully boring universe otherwise. We say we hate war, but it makes our lives better. The augmented reality implants that everyone uses now? An outgrowth of a military technology that enabled our soldiers to fight and kill better than their soldiers, ensuring that we survived to use that technology to have a conversation with my daughter at home on the other side of the cluster. When we experiment with technologies like this," she pointed to the stark globe of the simulated colony system and the battle that still raged on as Marine transports landed their payloads of tanks and gunships on the surface, "We are pushing towards that point where everyone goes home when the war is over."

"Except for those guys."

In the sphere a close-up of an assault on a colony dome was playing out. Annihilating blasts from the super-cannons on a Typhoon gravtank opened a huge breach in the armored shell of a multi-segmented complex and this was immediately exploited as assault shuttles swarmed into the breach on the heels of the tanks. Fighters swung around the exterior darting here and there as they launched off billowing volleys of missiles or fired lances of energy into the few remaining defensive guns. Inside the Marines would be pouring out of their transports to sweep through the corridors and rooms in a tide of bloody close-range combat. In the chaos of such a conflict any resistance or hesitation would equal death for one side or the other and the Marines would take no chances.

"If we lived in that perfect galaxy where everyone could choose their own life, their own government, their own fate. But there are still plenty of people out there born into power or fortune they do not deserve and cannot comprehend who act and behave otherwise. Sometimes it isn't our problem, at least not yet, and sometimes it is. Maybe we'll get to that point - and maybe we'll still be around to enjoy it - but until we do, we have to be ready to do this. And we also have to be ready to drop those traditions that we feel are right to maintain those core values that truly define us as a civilization. If we evolve to the point where we fight and win wars with the push of a button but still maintain our creativity, our passion, our zest for life, our inquisitive streak, our sense of justice, and our notions of duty and honor yet our wars are fought by robots are we still the same people? I think the answer is yes; Perhaps a more realistic people, but we no longer believe in sky gods either."

[Sunset]

Tradia's Hovercar, En Route to K’Xytil Spaceport, K’Xytil City, N'Xypndiltn…

"...we also keep it for intelligence purposes," Kathrine said, answering the Inspector's question before he got a chance to answer it. Kathrine Price was the appropriately named CEO of PricePlus, the moderately sized (and priced, though the pun had been avoided) passenger line that operated service between N'Xypndiltn and several nearby star systems as well as the destination in reasonable demand among the Tonhi population; Thanh-Tonh. Her narrow accent was a recognizable reminder of her own origins among the remnant population of the corporate state of Imnsvale. "Not of the type you are thinking, Inspector. Service is one way to distinguish our brand from another and when a guest finds their favorite holovision show - harvested from logos or depictions on their clothes or catch phrases taken from their conversation - playing in their suite, it helps to put them at their ease. Data storage is cheap so we keep a profile for all of our customers with the goal of having a continuous and comfortable experience for them."

"Which is also useful intelligence data," the sandwich-wielding Inspector noted dryly.

"No, I suppose not. We put your man into the system as soon as we got the warrant and;" A collection of still images harvested from various cameras unfurled across one side of the screen as the CEO's head slid to the other, "Here is what we have. Importantly, we can tell you that he has never been a passenger aboard our service but..."

"He has been a visitor," Min finished, another mouthful half-chewed. The carnage in the tunnels had put his stomach off any thoughts of food and it was only now in the mid-morning that the hunger had overtaken him to such an extent that he was both reduced to the rudeness of eating in front of a guest - though virtual, the CEO still counted to his cultured mind - and to the barbarous level of consuming fast food.

The image he'd chosen showed the Prince standing carefully posed as if waiting for something or someone with his various retainers standing around or nearby paying attention to the crowd while their master waited seemingly unperturbed by the bustle and flow around him. The passenger service was just one part of a larger operation and most of the traffic seemed to be the crew of various ships and ground staff from the starport itself. A touch and the image became a video that then resolved into a projected hologram as the crowd began to move. The other images were essentially the same and their various time-stamps showed that this was right in the middle of the sequence. A minute passed and the Inspector's choice proved apt as something off-camera caught the Prince's attention and he half-turned to greet a younger man with an answering slight bow to the new arrival's lower and thus more respectful one.

"...and there is the missing link," Min breathed, zooming in on the man's face with a surprisingly deft sweep and spread of the fingers. An outline appeared around it and he swept it off to one side and the video resumed from the new angle while a dossier began to generate on the passenger side window of the hovercar.

"ThaManh," Tradia read aloud, though she was already familiar with the face that matched the name. His was front and center on the dossier that fronted the reports that continued to be passed back and forth with unrelenting regularity. "The assassin."

"And it seems friend to Prince Li Nesar. Ms. Price, can you..." He had been about to ask the executive to search the recordings for the man's image when something in the current video caught his eye.

It was another man, older, but with a more familiar cast to his face than the darker skin of the Tonhi. Whoever he was, he was lurking at a corner of the spaceport concourse and seemed more than casually interested in the meeting between the Prince and his younger relative.

"I have seen that man before. He is Roanian, but where?"

"He seems really interested in ThaManh," Tradia offered as the video continued.

Step by step as the Prince turned to leave the port, the future assassin in tow, the unknown man followed along behind them. Though he was a Roanian and several times came within easy eyeshot of the Prince's retainers, none stopped him or made any attempt to object to his presence.

"And I'm sure I've seen him too, now that you mention it."

"And if we both have, then we can narrow down the where considerably. Ms. Price," he returned to the previous question, "Please search for any instances of either of these two men in your records. The first is a known assassin and the second may be an accomplice in some manner."

"I'll have my staff get right on it," but this time it was Tradia's turn to interrupt; "A blue jumpsuit! I remember now; He was getting off the Thousand Tidings of Impeccable Joy. Dressed as a technician then."

"Ah yes. From the Snake Clan. But how are they tied up," Realization broke over Min's face and he shuddered, "No... It is too horrible to accuse them of, but yet what we found in the caves would draw the line directly. But are they servants or masters here? I fear the sooner I am put into contact with Internal Harmony on Rudan the better, and I now worry that we two are in grave danger. Tell me quickly, Ms. Price," he turned back to the woman on the other side of the screen, "Are any of your..."

The question and warning went unfinished. A hand was pressed across her mouth and there was the sharp flash of silver followed by a splash of crimson just before the connection went dead.

"They make their move..."

[Sunset]

The Wind's Crossing, En Route from Chains of Jade to Alawks Star, Ares Super-Cluster...

An easy smile and a casual, self-assured manner put Alwyra instantly on her guard. There were few people who were, on first sliding into the stool of a random bar aboard a random starliner, seemed completely at ease with the random stranger now sitting next to them. There were rules to these things as well; Don't sit down right next to the only other person. Wait until a conversation has begun before moving over. Don't start with eye contact unless...

Unless you're flirting.

Alwyra looked him over again ignoring his own casual reassessment; Young, blonde, and boyishly cute, he would have been the kind of hook-up she'd have taken a couple years ago but now the warm metallic reminder of the ring on her finger told her to let the kid down easy.

"Parker McArthur..."

"Mrs. Alwyra Maric..."

"I know," His smile only spread and her own neutral expression was replaced with one of concern; "Oh? Is there something I can do for you then, Mr. McArthur?"

"There is," he nodded, reaching into his jacket to pull an envelope out and slid it across the polished surface of the bar until it sat directly in front of her. She didn't take it but he continued as if she had, "You see, I'm a private investigator retained by the family of Eric Hendrick..."

'Oh shit...'

For a moment she felt like turning to run but he had already moved to block her, half-turning so that any move would end up with the pair in an awkward embrace.

"They've recently become aware that you might have had something to do with the disappearance of their beloved cousin and that you are..."

"Rich." He shrugged and she went on, "So this is a shakedown."

She flipped open the envelope to find a surprisingly old-school printed photograph and one page information sheet on her former debt-owner as well as a starkly formatted sheet detailing both her alleged value and his perceived worth.

"...and I had nothing to do with it," she decided suddenly, pushing the letters back inside and clumsily closing the flap. "Eric decided he wanted to get away from his old life, as many former criminals do, and he left his business to me before he disappeared. I haven't seen or heard from him since."

There was something else that was making the Neko's tail twitch besides the sudden stress; Why here and now, years later, rather than a day or even a week? The mining company had been enormously profitable when she'd...

'Seized the reins? No... Taken the reins.'

It sounded nicer and less like the violent takeover that it had been and it was as much about convincing herself of the situation as it was about lying to the young man.

"Very convenient that he would leave it all to you, isn't it? Especially since your former boyfriend left your apartment in a body bag."

"After he assaulted me..."

"During a fight where you were both intoxicated, Mrs. Maric. It was still murder and once you've killed someone once... Well, I could argue the point. But for that price it all goes away. His family will leave you alone."

"Will they?" Alwyra shifted in her seat and turned to him, arms crossed over her chest. It was defensive posture but the heat of the moment had taken over, "Or would it be an admission? I didn't do anything to him but paying them off sure would make it seem like I did. And whose to say this isn't your own little scheme, Mr. Parker McArthur? Shake me down for a few hundred million and walk away with it?"

"Fine..." He scooped up the envelope and tucked it back into his jacket. "The offer has been extended, Mrs. Maric. Next time it won't be and there will be a police officer with me," he left the threat to hang as he finished his drink.

"There won't be a next time;" She was certain of it, but how to be certain? As he stood and left she scooped up her own drink and took a sip, watching his retreating back. There had to be a way.

[Sunset]

Tradia's Hovercar, K’Xytil Spaceport, K’Xytil City, N'Xypndiltn…

"...They make their move;" The words had barely left the Inspector's lips when the car was rocked by a sudden jolt, throwing him up against the door and sending the smaller warrior sprawling across the divider into his lap along with the ice and slush from his untouched Happy Happy Slushie. Neon green foam flew, expanded in an instant, and for a moment the whole car slewed, spun, and then dropped out of the sky as the windshield showed a worrisome view of the ground below. Green canopy scattered and then the ground met them with metal-tearing force.

The car was only resting in the furrow of its own destruction for a few seconds before one door began to lift, the other trying to join it but giving up the ghost in a series of halting jerks. One then two figures rolled out, both covered in the stringy green remains of the crash foam with the smaller crawling quickly away while the second staggered to his feet before the first barked a warning; "Get down! They..."

A half-step forward was the only thing that saved Inspector Min's life as the would-be assassin fired again. Air rippled as the hyper-sonic round whipped past and tore through the car, opening it up from hood to tail like a mechanical gutted trout. Shrapnel whipped away from them, carried along by the distortion of the passing munition. She pulled him forward, bearing him to the ground and crawling low, desperately putting whatever cover she could between the unseen sniper and herself. Alerts played in her ears, incoming messages from her augmented reality that threatened a lethal distraction but she ignored them to push forward as the last of the neon threads tugged away. Another shot and the car lurched under the impact as dirt and debris rained up into the sky and then down on their heads. Once more and a tree just over her shoulder exploded into flying splinters that peppered the underbrush they were taking scant cover in.

"Your suit..." She concentrated for a half-second, making her way through the commands, and an invisible hand fumbled at the Inspector's wrist as she tried to work the unfamiliar interface. Struggling comprehension and he slid his fingers over the buttons to jab at the controls just as another gout of earth flew into the air and he too faded away before being momentarily revealed again as an outline against the falling soil; "Run!"

It didn't matter. A few heart-pounding moments later and they realized the fire had stopped but they ran on to leave the car a shattered ruin behind them. Perhaps the gunner was only trying to pick up the two cloaked figures as they wound their way through the jungle towards the sloping metallic copper wall that was the outer edge of the city, but whatever the cause they reached the base of the curving structure without another whip-whistle shot. It was only when the two knelt crouching under a protruding panel that the Adjutant stopped to check the messages that were still streaming in.

"It's happening all over. People... Women," she clarified, skimming the headers, "Attacked and killed or kidnapped. Roanian weapons."

"But we know differently," the Inspector declared. "A trick by the Snake Clan. But so bold - they must have a reason to emerge like this! To put the blame on the Empire."

Curve by curve the two were skirting the wall, still staying under what was presumably some kind of cover where they could while quick bursts from one to another relied on their near-invisibility. There was no sign of their unseen archer though both scanned the jungle and the hills with stares that seemed to pierce the heavens.

"You must call it in," Min hissed, switching back to the augmented channel. "This is not our doing."

"I'm trying;" But the connection was unresponsive and a look of worry crossed Tradia's unseen face until a familiar voice picked up the line and resolved into the figure of a woman sitting at a console with her boots up and a sandwich in her hand; "Hey Tradia. Sorry about the delay - someone tried to kill us. Rammed a car into the office but you know it's a fucking tank. You okay out there?"

"Yes, not really. Someone tried to kill us too! But it wasn't the Roanians!"

The woman at the console took a bite from her ever-present sandwich, "Sure looks like the Roanians from here. Disintegration weapons, floating piles of ash... If I hadn't been watching your conversation with poor Mrs. Price - sorry, bad habit - we'd probably be burning their crops and salting their fields... Mmm, salt," she reached for a little bowl and sprinkled some over the open face before flicking the rest away, "Could use some. But the Executor wants to talk to you. Stay put - we're on our way."

Minutes later and the crisp snap of trees breaking like toothpicks and the swish-fwoosh as they flew through the air to pinwheel into the jungle announced the arrival of the Executor's office. Driving right over the pair it stopped with the two massive pontoons on either side while a hatch opened above them. A ladder dropped and the armored figure of a petite Marine waved at them from inside. Climbing up, they found themselves in the Bulldog's maintenance bay and being led up to the command deck-slash-Executor's office by a Xypndi Marine in possibly the cutest suit of power armor ever. Miranna was at her desk, or walking in front of it, and as soon as she noticed the pair she dropped what she had been working on to run over and half-tackle Tradia.

"Oof! Glad you're okay. We passed the wreck..."

"We got lucky;" It was a sober declaration but the Executor was still smiling, "Good news on a bad day. There's been attacks all over the planet and everyone's on alert now. If it wasn't for that botched job on Kathrine Price," she shrugged. "What's our counter-move?"

"Arrest Prince Li Nesar." Inspector Min caught her eye and lifted his chin, "By myself if I must. I am certain he is involved, though whether he is acting at the behest of the Snake Clan or with them as his agents I am not sure. I also believe... Excuse me?" He turned to the sandwich at the communications desk, "Can you access the last moments of our conversation with Mrs. Price? The older man we were talking about?" A nod and a moment later the recording appeared between the three. "I believe that this man may be involved. He is too old to be a common thug or enforcer and the others seem to pay him some deference and the Prince's men allowed him to go about his business unmolested. And he is Roanian. To mix with the Tonhi here... It is not done unless the need is pressing."

[Sunset]

SDF-Shamal, Memuru Nebula, The Western Expanse, Ares Super-Cluster...

"Prepare for a boarding action," Captain Tamperi ordered; It was the last order he thought he'd ever have to give but here he was - about to send men into the hostile meat-grinder that was a ship under siege.

He'd had no choice in the matter; From the moment the ugly distress call had come through from the Star's Charter luxury cruise liner and he and his crew had leapt to respond to the moment before communications had been abruptly cut. When they'd arrived they had found that the worst possible scenario had played out and that the pirate ship was already docked - mated side-by-side - with the stricken cruise liner. The particulars explained the circumstances that had made a normally rare event possible; The pirate ship looked more like a pleasure yacht that had seen better days - but the profusion of boarding clamps that had sprouted from hidden hatches told the story plainly. Treachery and subterfuge had triumphed where firepower could not and now the liner was caught firm.

The saving grace was that she appeared to be only lightly armed. At worst she could hole the liner...

"Quickly," He urged, though there was nothing he could do to make the Marines move faster as they suited up and moved to the Shamal's own boarding ports. "We can't let them secure the 'Charter."

His concern was not with the pirates who stood in their way - he had every confidence the highly trained and exceptionally equipped Marines would mow through them like standing wheat - but with the far more vulnerable passengers. The situation had evolved from one of robbery to one with the strong potential for kidnapping and murder. The simplest way to ensure the pirate's escape would be to take sufficient hostages so that the Marines could not force their own counter-boarding without endangering a great number of lives.

One or two...

'The Republic does not negotiate with hostage takers' but more than that would change that straightforward statement to a more nuanced question that Tamperi would rather avoid answering - ideally by acting before the pirates had a chance to force the asking.

"Boarding tubes extending," one of the bridge officers called out from behind him, "Docked in five... four..."

It was about to become a two-horse race; The Star's Charter would be the course with the pirate ship on one side and the fast cruiser on the other. Marine speed and skill would be pitted against the early advantage and unwilling cover given to the pirates with the toss-up being the Captain's next order and the unknown skill and experience of his presumed opposite.

"Put the call out for volunteers; Power armor training is a plus. I want a second force ready in two minutes;" The Shamal only carried so many Marines and these were already committed to the boarding action. "We're going to circle the hull and cut them off at their boarding tubes."

"We, Captain?"

"Volunteers needed," Tamperi repeated, pushing himself up from the command chair with one foot and half-jogging around to the upper deck of the bridge, one hand on the squared-off railing. The doors whisked open and the Captain stepped up to the origami folds of a waiting suit of GhostDragon armor, "Power armor training a plus. You have the bridge, Commander!"

There was no stopping him and the Commander sighed as he hopped armrests from his own into the empty chair, "Wireframe cutaway, main holosphere. Reconstructed view of the pirate ship on the main screen..."

Culled from sensor information and computer reconstructions of the former yacht, an image of the pirate ship on the far side of the liner appeared with the great bulk of the larger ship as backdrop. There was little to see there, however, and most of the focus was now on the wire frame of the liner as the glowing dots representing Marines began to spread out through the ship. Yellow dots appeared and there was no time to even comment on them before they either went blue to represent a civilian or blinked red as a Marine eliminated the threat. The depressing reality was that there were many thousands of potential blue dots to only a small handful of red and as the green dots and ghostly images of running armor suits fanned out and then pushed across towards the marked boarding points these became fewer and fewer until it was clear to the observers on the bridge that the pirates were already in chaotic retreat.

A sudden call from the Sensor Officer was the first warning that Murphy was about to have his say; "Commander, eh-em levels on the pirate ship are spiking!"

Invisible on the other side of the liner, radiators around the hexagon cluster of engines had begun to glow red and now orange as they dumped waste heat into the cold vacuum of space. It was no hint as to what exactly was happening but the Commander's instinct was that if it was coming from the pirate ship the best thing to do would be to get as far away as possible.

"Move us away," he shouted, the helmsman scrabbling at his station, "Full speed! Order the Marines away from..."

The hurried command came too late; A final surge of radiation and the heat sinks glowed white. A surge of yellow light that lit the entire side of the Star's Charter to crisp detail and the yacht was gone; "They've jumped..."

"My god!" He glanced first to the wire frame to where the second set of dots that had been Captain Tempari and his secondary force had been circling around the underside of the liner and then back to the main display. Where the pirate ship had been nestled up against the sleek side of the liner there was now an enormous ragged hemisphere cut out of the hull, her decks, and everything that had been between, "Where are they?! Launch all shuttles - find them, now!"

[Sunset]

SDF-Ojeni, The Dragon's Eye, Delta Quadrant...

"That's as precise as I'm going to be able to get," had been the Doctor's answer when queried as to the enormous area 'pinpointed' as the youngest segment of the massive chain of undersea temples, forums, stadiums, and amphitheaters that ringed the shimmering blue-black planet. Both labels were imprecise but convenient and, as Susan continued, useful; "Unless you want to stick around for another two months."

"Which is just another chance at a dive as far as I'm concerned," Captain Blaine said, picking up the hours-ago conversation as she stood at the open door of the shuttle as it in turn hovered over the glass-still ocean. In the distance a far curtain of phosphorescent fire could be seen burning and another beyond and another beyond as the element bubbled up from its deep veins to accumulate and then ignite on the surface. Here, close to the boundary between water and sky, the dim shapes of sprawling shrines could be seen outlined against the deep. Here and there where the rising fires back lit them, they stood out in stark relief to give a further illusion of darkness to those that still lingered in shadow.

One by one, the Captain and her small team hit the water and then rapidly sunk as their armored suits sought the point of neutrality. They were only one of a dozen but like every other team they were anxious to be the one that made the grand discovery of who built these structures and why. An intact statue, a table covered in script; Each had their own private fantasy but the stark reality was that the mount that seemed to be the focal point was far larger than they had expected. It was no lone pinnacle but a sprawling ring of mountains that some had already taken to calling the Seven Hills of Rome. Spreading out into a loose fan formation, the five moved down towards their destination.

"Look at that," Sloan breathed, her awe apparent even through the virtual link. "Rome would be humbled..."

A shape had risen out of the darkness, singular and stark, and it was both like nothing they had ever seen and not alone. The buildings had been picked up in a repeated scan of the area and, with a number of the near-unique structures scattered around the rise, they were the most obvious target for the renewed exploration effort. Each team would take one, selected at random, and the building they now approached was neither the largest nor the smallest. Unlike the other structures built all over the undersea-surface, it was also enclosed. Enormous walls yawned above their heads as they approached and the shear size became apparent as a single titanic head yawned from the darkness to nearly engulf the closest explorer with its shattered visage.

"Even here," the Captain drifted back, taking in the whole frieze as the lights from the other suits threw it into relief. "What was it about their face that they could not stomach?"

"Maybe they were hungry?"

Laughter followed, a moment of levity that faded away as a Marine spied a dark corner and drifted closer to find a mat of the ubiquitous kelp-like sea vines with their dimly glowing red pods covering a simple archway; "Captain..."

"Let's go in," but Kami found herself interrupted by one of the other members of her detail, a young Oeie named Pfau; "Hold up. How big is that archway? This is important - we've never had a way to really measure their size. Lots of statues in all sorts of sizes and all their buildings so far have been open to the sea. But you have to make a door big enough to pass through."

"Unless you're Roanian."

"Ha, right," but she ignored the reference to the Imperial habit of kneeling doors to move up to the lentil and measure it as well as the posts before comparing her own armor to it. Very nearly the top of her helmet scraped the top when she walked carefully through and this was of particular note since the suit added a few centimeters to the tall woman's height. "Almost precisely two meters square."

"Same size as us..."

It was an assumption, perhaps, but data was data and just poking her head inside told the Captain that the Ensign was on to something. An enormous open chamber circled around a titanic central column that supported a multi-arched roof that was itself pierced with hundreds of small skylights - or sealights - that were in turn covered by scarlet vine. Some of this hung down through the gaps to narrowly illuminate the room and half-reveal a curving balcony that ran around the far side with a row of columns fronting it and piercing through from floor to ceiling. There were no railings or steps and for a moment even the balcony itself seemed off; "Why have a place to stand when one can just swim higher?"

The answer to that lay across the room and as they slid forward they passed under the central column to finally behold the face of the creator. Four enormous statues formed the bulk of the monolith, each standing bent over to brace their backs against the ceiling while arms spread out to interlace their hands at key junctions. Each carved face was familiar in its humanoid form but a smooth head and swept-back crest along the back of the skull was matched with wide eyes and nostrils that were little more than slits. There was no mouth but rather two pairs of slits along the edge of each cheek that strongly reminded them of gills though a sculpted set of ridges along each could have been any kind of unknown structure.

"They are beautiful..."

There was nothing to do but silently agree as they spread out around the column taking in each unique face in turn. Perhaps they were male, perhaps they were female; The body itself was nebulous enough to allow either to be applied. Or perhaps they were neither but again Ensign Pfau interrupted, "Captain, you better have a look at this!"

She was up on the balcony now, facing outwards the center column from behind one of the supporting pillars, and as Kami swam closer she could see that the young officer was standing behind something that looked vaguely like a kiosk or station built into the pillar itself. There were more on the others but the Captain drifted down next to the Oeie while the others in her team, save Commander Sloan who was still entranced with the statues, settled down around them.

"It's a console of some kind," she swept an armored gauntlet across it, clearing away more vine and the debris of an unknown past. "I'm not sure how, but it has to be."

If it was, it was as alien a thing as the young Captain had ever seen. There were no buttons or knobs but rather spurs of stone and odd-shaped things that might have been dials. There were no read-outs or displays in a form familiar to the explorers but looking up a bank of near-identical protrusions curved above their head; "We found it; Now I just wish we knew what we'd found..."