On file, the Salvage Authorities were a network of loosely associated institutions sprinkled all over human space, though mostly near the front lines. Their mandate was to retrieve dead ships and debris, ensuring that as little technology as possible fell into enemy hands, while also obtaining as many alien pieces as possible. It was claimed that most of the military advances were a direct result of tech the respective Salvage Authority had managed to reverse engineer and pass on to the fleet. In practice, things were different.

I’d had several dealings with the Salvage Authorities, none of them pleasant. One thing I knew was that they had an almost obsessive interest in third-contact artefacts. Judging by the number of pods present, there must have been some intense searching going on.

“Radiance, I’m here,” I said into my comm module. The device flickered on and off, reacting to my voice. “Confirm transmission.”

“Receiving you fine, Cadet,” the Flight Colonel responded. The amount of background static suggested he wasn’t using the standard communication system. “What’s your status?”

“A few bumps, but nothing serious,” I didn’t miss the opportunity to point out. “The pod won’t be coming back, though.”

Funny, Radiance transmitted a virtual smile.

“It did its job,” Flight Colonel Nitel said, in a tone that sent frost through the communicator. “Go to the colony. Contact us again once you’ve found the target.”

“What if I come across something unexpected?”

“No.” A faint click ended the static. My new boss seemed intent on preventing me from asking questions. Then again, he couldn’t forbid me from doing things he didn’t know.

“Anything else I should be aware of, sir?” You’re still not mentioning anything about the pod graveyard… “Sir?”

Sorry, he’s in a privacy mode meeting. Radiance said. I haven’t caught any other ships in the system, so you should be fine. Two shuttles have gone to the orbital station to see what’s up there. Standard communication is still down.

“Okay.” The signs were pointing towards it being a third-contact artefact. Although, it was also possible that it was Scuu-related. “Anything I should be worried planetside?”

Several groups of life-signs moving about, but nothing in your immediate area. Some minor activity in the colony. There’s a seven-point-three chance you caused it, so don’t worry too much.

“How much exactly should I worry?” I went to one of the pods. It was an old design, practically antique even when I was in the service. Time and weather had done it no favors, eating away the outer frame. The Salvage Authority markings were still identifiable.

I’ve sent five sats to watch you. If anything serious happens, just say the word.

Five sats? That was something the Flight Colonel would have her do. Still, why wasn’t she commenting on the other pods?

“I’ll let you know when I find the target.” I turned off the comm device and put it away in my pocket. It was almost certain that Radiance had been quarantined not to see the pods, just as it was almost certain that Nitel was observing my progress. It would be easy to point out the discrepancy, but with my current record, I wouldn’t be doing myself any favors, and he knew it.

Taking a few minutes, I did a sweep of the area. From what I could tell, there were eighty-three pods in various state of degradation. Most had Salvage Authorities emblems painted on their exterior, nineteen were of the fleet, one had an entirely unfamiliar design, and all remaining were unmarked. Based on make, the models could be divided in three time periods, ranging from two centuries ago to less than a decade. The one thing they all had in common was that someone had thoroughly stripped their insides to the wire. Despite what had been implied, System Four didn’t seem the well-supplied human outpost it was supposed to be.

Rechecking the area layout in my head, I loaded my sidearm and headed in the direction of the colony. The sun burned down on my back as I walked. Even without internal sensors, I could feel the air temperature being in the lower forties. Judging by the sparse vegetation and dry soil, most of the heat was generated entirely by the sun, making for boiling days and freezing nights. Flat-peaked mountains of yellow rock loomed in the distance, not a single cloud in sight. If the planet had undergone any terraforming, it had been rudimentary. One thing that was breathtaking was the sky—deep lapis even with the sun present, making it appear almost unnatural.

Cass would have loved this. I looked up, saving as much of the sky as possible to memory. If she were here right now, she’d say it was one of those unique places that would be perfect to “settle down.” She had said the same about my home planet. Looking at it now, with the exception of some floral specimens, home was quite plain as planets went. Even so, I wouldn’t trade it for this.

After twenty-seven minutes, I reached the top of a small elevation of land. My mission plan had assigned the spot as Point Nu—the point of no return, as Kridib had promptly put it. Going there would reveal my presence to the colony, for better or worse. Normally, I’d take that under serious consideration, running a few hundred simulations before I continued. Lacking any way off the planet, the best course of action was to move on and act fast.

A handful of manmade structures were visible in the distance, right in front of two mountain passes of stone. None of them appeared especially remarkable, though they had an abundance of metal elements on the second and third floors. Radiance had mentioned the colony had some sort of defense perimeter, mostly for dealing with the local animals. In usual circumstances, a loud “hello” on my part, combined with a visual identity confirmation transmission from HQ, could be enough to pass unbothered. With communications being non-functional, I was going to have to rely on my interpersonal skills.

You always said sarcasm was my strong point, Sev. Here’s to hoping that the locals agree.

As I walked forward, I counted my steps. The distance to the first row of buildings was approximately eighteen hundred meters. The effective range of the standard military ground weapon was five hundred meters, though sniper-rifles could hit a target at two thousand. If the colony’s loyalty had shifted, I was already in someone’s crosshairs.

After three hundred steps, the faint smell of smoke filled the air. The scanner probe identified it as wood charcoal fragments with traces of organic matter. I switched off the safety of my sidearm and loosened the holster.

Moving closer, more structures became visible in the crack between the two cliffs, along with greenish patches of vegetation. Radiance had told me that there had to be some sort of automated sentry system, but I found the lack of people concerning. Statistically, there had to be at least some in view, even from this distance.

Halfway to the settlement, I stopped. From here on I was in range of any fleet weapon, so something was going happen it had to be now. My current core allowed me to run six simultaneous simulations, far less than an adequate in the situation. Despite the decades spent in my current body, I still wasn’t accustomed to these limitations. Back when I was a ship, I knew the odds of the majority of outcomes. The art of combat, as my Sword trainer had said, was navigating through the thousands of possibilities, choosing the ones that would provide the best long-term advantage, while taking into account the orders of my captain; not an easy task with Augustus in charge. Being human was like taking part in a never-ending dark op: no big picture, a constant lack of reliable data, and remarkably few reliable elements.

Let’s see how close this is to the training SRs.

A hundred meters from the colony, I could hear the faint whistle of wind coming from the mountain crack. All other sounds were absent.

Seventy more steps and the whistle had become a howl. I licked my finger and held it in front of me. I could feel the strength of the draft—not the best conditions to live in, especially during the nightly temperature drops. I was about to take another step forward, when the door of the second closest building opened and four large men came out.

“Welcome to Ash,” the first one said with a frown. He had the air of a typical rural planet colonist—bald, bearded, large arms, large gut, and the unmistakable expression that screamed he’d bash a person’s skull in given any excuse.

The ones behind him weren’t very different. With one exception, they were all men in their fifties, callouses on their hands, skin cracked and weathered by the rough conditions on the planet. All wore thick leather clothes and crude massive boots, making them look like an ant that had walked through plaster. They also were armed.

The bald man circled me, keeping four steps away, all the time making sure he wasn’t between me and the rest of his companions.

“Just visiting?” he asked with a smirk. Apparently, my light combat uniform and single pistol sidearm didn’t impress him in the least.

“That’s the plan.” I made a single glance of my surroundings, storing it in my memory. Four people, two with modified fleet issue rifles, one wide-spread projectile, and seven heavy duty pistols. At this distance, there was an eighty-two percent chance that I could take them out with minimal damage, provided more weren’t hiding in the buildings.

“Bad plan” The man put a hand on his pistol. “Who dropped you?”

I looked up. Two of Radiance’s sats were visible dots in the sky. It was safe to assume everyone aboard was seeing exactly what was going on and had no intention of doing anything about it. Now I knew what my ground troops felt sustaining heavy fire, while I was monitoring their progress from orbit.

“I’m a fleet cadet,” I replied. There was no point going into specifics. “We—”

Then it happened—my first actual combat fight since my reintroduction to the fleet. I had always imagined the first action I’d see would be aboard a ship, dealing with internal security while enemies were drilling through the decks with long range cluster missiles. Instead, I was having a face-off with four opponents near a backwater colony.

The attack was subtle, almost proficient. There was no charge, no yell, merely the faint movement of two people raising their rifles. According to the recently added legal safety annex, core-based individuals were only allowed to act in self-defense when there was an established threat on life. There was nothing established in war; here, anything above a fifty-five probability was sufficient to act.

Jumping to the side, I drew my sidearm and fired two shots. The bullets hit the ground, bursting in an explosion of white light. I had closed my eyes, but even eyelids weren’t enough to prevent the blindness that followed. Whiteness spread around me, forcing me to switch to memories of my surroundings. Dashing towards the most distant enemy, I fired two more shots at each of the key surrounding buildings in case of hidden reinforcements. After the clip was empty, I tossed the weapon.

They aren’t my crew, I said to myself, reaching for my opponent’s weapon.

The person’s exact location had changed since the two-point-one seconds since I had fired my weapon, though not enough for me to miss his torso. My fingers hit the side area of his ribs, right under the arm. The surprise flash must have caused him to instinctively start crouching in an attempt to reduce the target area of his body. A common rookie mistake. Recalculating the location of his weapon, I moved my hand down and grabbed the pistol’s handle, then pulled it out. It was heavier than the standard issue, considerably modified, though well kept. The safety latch and trigger ident module had been removed, allowing me to shoot without issue. If I wanted, I could kill all four of my attackers in the next five seconds, then rush into the colony in search for the target. I’d have every prospect of taking the locals by surprise. Adjusting for the unexpected, I had a sixty-four percent chance of barricading myself in the targets mansion and send a reinforcement request to Radiance before anyone figured out what was going on; it was the undisputed optimal plan of action. However, as the SR runs had taught me, the optimal solution never brought to long term gains.

“Easy there, little lady,” I heard the bald man’s voice, three steps to my right. A loud click told me that he was pointing a sidearm at my head. “That’s hardly the best way to start a conversation.”

I really hate having this little processing power! I slammed the man in front of me in the head—using a broad sweep with my new gun—then pointed the weapon at the person who had addressed me.

Twenty puny simulations, that was the total amount I was able to handle in this time. Back at the academy, I used to think I’d be able to run hundreds of variations in my mind. In field conditions, and when faced with large amounts of unknowns, I was virtually reduced to a walking calculator… and that infuriated me more than my lack of height.

“We lost communication with everything in the system,” I continued, finishing the thought I had started before the scuffle. My weapon remained at the ready. “I was sent to look into things,” I lied.

There were a few notes of dry laughter on a background of swearing. Three-quarters of the group didn’t seem to share their leader’s sentiment.

“Flashbang ammo?” he asked. Somehow his eyes hadn’t been affected by the blast. “Haven’t seen that in a while. Escort troops?”

“Just a cadet trying to figure out what’s going on.” It would take twenty-three more seconds for my eyes to readjust. My gun followed the voice. “Are you the colony administrator?”

“Single clip.” I heard the man eject the magazine. “Nice entry.” I heard the sound of something drop by my feet. “Won’t do you any good. This isn’t one of your fancy ships. Better get used to it.”

“I’ll try.” I wasn’t sure whether Radiance would take this as a compliment or an insult. “Administrator?” I repeated.

“There’s no administrator. We survive or die together. Everything else is automated. Is that all the stuff you came with?”

“As I said, I’m just visiting.” The whiteness around me began to darken. Opening my eyes, I was able to make out blobs of color.

“If you say so.” Shapes started to form. I could make out the outline of the man. He wasn’t holding any weapons. The rest of the group had progressively toned down the amount of swearing and now were waiting for the flashbang effects to wear off. Their behavior didn’t resemble soldiers, but they didn’t look like civilians either.

“Do you have anything to drink?” I asked, lowering my weapon.

There was a long pause.

How I wish I could see your expression clearly.

“Sure,” the man said at last. “What’s your name?”

“Elcy.” I straightened up. “Ship cadet.”

“Right.” It was obvious he didn’t believe me. “Can you see yet?”

“A bit.” I rubbed my eyes, even if I didn’t need to. No one needed to know I was a ship. “What do I call you?”

There was another long pause, after which the man walked to me. Standing a step away, it was all the more obvious how much larger he was, rising two heads above me. With a grunt, he bent down, picked up my pistol and rubbed it in his shirt.

“Here.” He offered me the pistol. “Ogum.”

Is that a first or last name? I took my pistol then returned the one I’d taken. If Augustus were here, he’d call it a disadvantageous exchange. Then again, I had never seen Augustus set foot on a planet. From his perspective, star systems were the only thing that mattered. Focusing on anything else was a resource drain. Back when I was active, I was never able to tell if he was joking on the matter.

We waited a while longer for everyone’s eyesight to return to normal, then went in the city. The people around me weren’t pointing weapons at me anymore, but I could tell they wouldn’t let their guard down.

“Comms are unreliable here,” Ogum said as we walked into the colony.

The first thing I noticed was a near complete lack of technology. During my mission briefing, Flight Colonel Nitel had stressed several times that nothing was known about the automated defense systems of the colony. Looking at the nearly prehistoric state, I could see why. It wasn’t that there was a lack of devices. Rather, they had been transformed to serve as functionless building blocks.

“You said everything is automated,” I looked to Ogum.

“It is.” He didn’t even bother to look me in the eye. “Tech is also unreliable. We get drops once per month. Sometimes less. Did you come in a pod?”

“It’s in the graveyard,” I improvised. “I don’t think there’s anything functional left. Maybe a few things you could use as parts.”

“It’s your pod,” the man said with a sigh. “It’s yours to use.”

Why does it sound like I’m missing part of the conversation? “Why the welcoming party?” I asked. “Have there been problems before?”

“Why are you really here, Elcy?” Ogum asked. “The fleet’s never given a shit about what happens here. We’re small, out of the way, and not their responsibility. So, why have you really come?”

My hand moved to my sideward. There were no bullets in it now. A fast reload would take longer than I had, were I going to use it. And there was the rest of the locals to take into account. For the moment, I still hadn’t seen any, but I could hear activity from the buildings: talking, music, baking. Even a modest colony would have thousands. In all of my SR training attempts, I hadn’t been able to survive against a hundred.

“I’m searching for something.” I hesitated. Throughout my years, I had seen captains and officers use the truth in a variety of ways. Sometimes they were honest, sometimes they lied, most often they were somewhere between the two. Normally, I wouldn’t concern myself with their approach. I wasn’t a human, so the responsibility didn’t lie with me. Today was different. Today, I was the officer. “I’m looking for someone. It’s important that I talk to him.”

“Must be damn important for the fleet to have dropped you here,” Ogum snorted. “What’s the name?”

“Renaan Honea.” According to my estimates, there was a twenty-one percent chance that revealing the name would end up in my favor. “Any chance he’s still alive?”

“Oh, he’s still alive.” For the first time, Ogum smiled. “And I’m sure he’ll enjoy talking to you, battleship.”