“Modify a shuttle!” Flight Colonel Nitel yelled at the communicator.

“That won’t help much,” Radiance replied, her voice level with an echo of sarcasm. At some point, I was going to have a word with her about copying my speech patterns to express annoyance. “I’ve lost five sats attempting to approach the planet. Marcus has ordered me not risk any shuttles before an exact cause is determined.”

“How long will that be?” Nitel had long lost his usual composure, his speech morphing into something between a bark and a yell.

“Three hundred and fifty-seven hours, approximately,” came the answer.

“How much processing power does it take?! Send down three backup squads and—”

“Sorry, but my captain has issued his orders,” Radiance interrupted. “I’m not to waste further fleet assets until the situation is clarified. I will continue to monitor the situation and keep you apprised of new developments.”

There was no kill switch click, though there might as well have been. While the Flight Colonel was undoubtedly the highest-ranking officer on the mission, until he stepped aboard Radiance, he didn’t have the authority to overrule the captain. Regulations were very clear on that regard—lacking a direct order from HQ, a captain’s word was absolute, and due to the need of communication silence, there was no chance of that happening.

Ignoring the shouting match between the Flight Colonel and his communicator, I made my way to the window. Four people had gathered in the courtyard outside, standing silently like statues. Each wore dark glasses and had enough firepower to bring down the whole mansion if they wanted.

“They’ve split in squads,” Kridib said. “Four are at the door, at least another two are out of sight.”

“At least one more’s in the mansion,” I added. After my encounter earlier today, my weapon was all but useless. At this point, flashbang ammo was unlikely even to get me a second of confusion. “Know any of them?”

“Maybe.” Kridib activated his sound suppressors. “Difficult to tell. They’re prepared, though. I doubt we’ll be fighting our way out of this one.”

The situation was surprisingly close to our SR training. The colony layout was completely different, but everything else fit to a T. The locals, while not as well equipped as the murder troops aboard Radiance, were battle-hardened veterans with a home advantage. Running the numbers, our overall chances of success were less than ten percent.

I heard a faint click beside me. Then, Kridib discreetly moved his sidearm to my side.

“Single clip,” he whispered. “Get something better before you’re out.”

Thanks. I swapped the pistol with my own, then handed it back to Kridib. It felt good to be prepared, even if I hoped I wouldn’t have to use it. The great irony was that right now I was surrounded by people who the seen the Scuu firsthand—people I was willing to break fleet regulations to get in contact with. Half a day—maybe even a few hours—would be enough to find some of the answers I was looking for. Instead, I couldn’t exchange a word. The way things stood, I was more likely to shoot them than learn what I needed.

“You sure you don’t want anything to drink?” Renaan asked, openly mocking the Flight Colonel. “Shipments are few and far between, but I’m sure there’s a bottle or two hidden somewhere.” He finished the last remains of the questionable liquid, before placing the empty bottle on the table. “I used to hide a few myself for emergencies.”

“You idiot!” Nitel snapped, still gripping the communicator. “You’d give up command to settle a score?!”

“If I had told you there was no going back, would you have come?”

A silence filled the room. Flight Colonel Nitel’s face grew red, veins pulsing on the side of his temple, but he didn’t say a word. Even Kridib turned slightly to take a glance at the reaction.

“Corporal,” Renaan was quick to address him. “Would you have come down here if you knew?”

“If those were my orders, sir,” the grunt said under his breath, then directed his attention back on the events outside.

“Yui?” The captain invited Nitel once more.

“No.” The Flight Colonel spat through his teeth.

“There’s your answer.”

Seconds passed without anyone saying a word. The captain took the empty bottle, trying to get the final few drops of alcohol. Gibraltar used to do the same when he was nervous, only in his case it used to be stimulants. He used to do that when he was under stress, though. I couldn’t see the slightest indication of stress on Renaan’s face. Looking through my memories of the last few hours, it was almost as if I were looking at a different person.

Maybe you’re not as bipolar or irritable as you tried to make out, Captain. “Sir,” I addressed Renaan. “If there were a way to get off the planet, would you accept the commission?”

Both he and the Flight Colonel looked at me as if I were a private who entered the officer’s lounge. Nitel started opening his mouth—to bark something unflattering at me, no doubt—but instantly stopped upon seeing Renaan had raised a hand in warning.

“Quite the interesting theoretical exercise,” the captain said. “Would my answer carry any weight, though? If I said yes, wouldn’t that peg me as mentally unfit to assume command? Or maybe I’m just looking for a way to pass time. Proper conversations are at a premium on this colony, as you’ve heard.”

“I only want to assess whether you wish to, sir.” I straightened up. Renaan’s body composure made me think of Augustus when assessing new officers.

“If there were a way off, would I accept the commission,” the man repeated, lowering his hand. “Is that the only change allowed, or do I get to add more?”

“Sir?”

“Am I allowed to take anyone with me, battleship?” Renaan leaned forward. “A colony? Half a colony? A single person?” His glance didn’t falter, stuck on me like a laser pointer.

“Half a shuttle at the most.” With the corner of my eye, I followed Nitel’s reaction. “Most likely none.”

“Quite stingy of you, Cadet. Theoretically speaking.”

“Stinginess is part of the fleet, sir.” You might be a veteran captain, but I’m a hundred-year-old battleship. “Knowing this, would you still accept the commission?”

“In a heartbeat.” A carnivorous smile formed on the captain’s face, no hesitation whatsoever.

Back when I was active, I had heard that the ships on the other front were different. The ones who really differed, though, were the people. So far, I’d only seen a few, and already a common trait had emerged: all of them were merciless.

“You have a way off here, don’t you?” Renaan asked in a low voice. All eyes fell on me. “Tell me.”

“Only a possibility, sir.” He wasn’t a person I would have enjoyed serving under, but his response made him my captain and as such I had to bring him onto Radiance. “There’s a chance I can end the communication block the Scuu have caused, provided I can find the device they’re using.”

“Is that all?” The captain let out a laugh. “That can be arranged.”

* * *

Classified star system, cargo shuttle of science ship Prometheus Dawn

Quarantine imposed.

Quarantine bypassed.

Destination reached, the AI informed me as the shuttle came to a full stop. Head to cargo hold.

I remained in my seat a few seconds more. Having to endure of the weight of fifteen Gs wasn’t the most pleasant experience.

You are ordered to proceed to the cargo hold, the AI reminded, as if I had any choice in the matter.

“Thanks for the reminder.” The shuttle’s AI definitely took after Prometheus.

One by one, I unbuckled the safety straps then pushed myself out of the seat. Officially, I was here. All logs indicated I was in my quarters aboard the Prometheus, preparing for my mission debriefing. Major Tanner had already attested to that, as probably had the captain and XO. No doubt Prometheus’ thoughts had been quarantined not to register my presence until then, rendering me virtually invisible. Most likely my memories would also be restricted once this extra-curriculum experiment was over… provided I didn’t destroy myself in the process.

“Hurry up, Cadet,” an unmistakably human female voice echoed throughout the empty shuttle. “Time’s running out.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Leaving the cockpit, I quickly made my way to the cargo bay. Back on the Prometheus, the whole area was sealed off with reduction orders. Now, all doors were open, revealing a remarkably low-tech workbench with a large metal cylinder placed right in the middle. A bulky grey spacesuit rested against the wall further back; if it wasn’t for the size, I’d have thought it was a replica.

“Seems the fleet is running low on funds.” After my recent experience, I didn’t imagine I’d be wearing something older than myself again.

“Get suited up, cadet,” the woman said sharply. Not one for humor, it seemed.

The spacesuit fit me perfectly. In many aspects, it was similar to a standard suit, with one sole exception. Other than a very crude comm system, it had no electronics whatsoever.

“How do I address you, ma’am?” I made a few steps forward in the suit. It was lighter than I was accustomed to.

“Controller,” came the reply. “Are you set?”

“All set and ready to go, ma’am.”

“Good. Here are your mission parameters.” As she spoke, I felt a note of tension in the controller’s voice. “You’re to go to the workbench and remove the outer casing from the artifact. Once you do, you’re to perform a series of simple tests and describe the results.”

“Are the shuttle sensors off?” Habit made me look around.

“They’ve been removed.”

The answer surprised me. Normally the fleet would hide behind vague answers, non-comments, or even directly ignore questions. The fact that this person didn’t care suggested that she was likely was part of the BICEFI or some other dark Fleet Intelligence organization. As Augustus liked to say, those with real power are rarely bothered by details.

The workbench reminded me of an operating table—plain, cold, and made of metal. Five sets of instruments were placed on the workbench, each hidden under an opaque layer of plastic with a third-contact seal and unfamiliar number-letter labels. I tore off the seal of the metal cylinder, then grabbed it firmly with both hands.

Well, Sev, this might be a moment in history. Hopefully, the results were going to be better those on the planet.

“Proceeding to remove outer casing,” I announced.

“Careful.” There wasn’t the remotest indication of concern in the controller’s voice. “Don’t rush things.”

“It’s unlikely anything will happen at this stage, ma’am.” I removed the metal cylinder, revealing a third-contact artifact attached to a block of wood. A mess of red and green microfibers surrounded it, making the artifact appear darker than I remembered seeing it. “Outer casing removed.” I looked around for a place to put the metal cylinder. Failing to find enough space on the workbench, I put it on the shuttle floor. “Shall I remove the inner mesh?”

“Not yet,” the controller said. “Unseal and unpack item G-225.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The item G-225 turned out to be a scanning probe that had gone through some minor modifications. It was forty percent larger than the one I had, securely placed in a steel frame and covered with a mesh of transparent polymers.

“It’s definitely very high-tech, ma’am,” I said, looking at the small analogue screen on the top. The only times I’d seen anything similar were in database archives or extremely underdeveloped rural colonies.

“Set the probe to minimum strength and stand two meters away from the artifact.”

That’s oddly specific. “Aye, ma’am.” I complied. “Standing two meters from artifact.”

I shouldn’t be doing this. The fleet had specialists that dealt with these sorts of things, people far more qualified, with better tools and a greater security clearance I could hope to achieve. Even Prometheus would have been a better choice, or, failing that, someone from Fleet R&D or the Salvage Authorities.

“Please proceed to perform three scans of the artifact, five seconds apart.” The controller’s tone suddenly changed. “Should communication be disrupted, you are to wait for a total of ten seconds before repeating the scan. In case communications aren’t restored, you are to gradually increase the strength of the probe in ten percent increments.”

“And if that doesn’t work?” I asked as I adjusted the settings of the device.

“In case of persistent failure, you are to unseal item L-00910 and use it to remove the artifact’s protective mesh, then try again.”

The advice wasn’t reassuring. Then again, it didn’t have to be. As much as my training instructors disliked the term, I was just a cog in the eyes of the fleet. The reason I was here was because somewhere high up in the fleet had taken interest to the third-contact artifact. This wasn’t an experiment, it was a trial… and both I and the artifact were expendable.

“Proceeding to scan the artifact from a distance of—” I extended my arm and took a step back. “—two meters. Three second warning.”

Three, two, one… I activated the probe. Seven milliseconds later, all communication channels were gone. I could no longer access Prometheus or anyone aboard. After a few attempts, I found that even the shuttle AI didn’t respond to commands.

“Primary communication channels lost,” I said, starting the countdown from ten. At least now I could confirm it was the scanning frequency that had gotten me stranded on the planet. Hopefully, I wouldn’t end up being stranded on the shuttle for that long. “Preparing for second scan in three seconds.”

Here’s to another exciting day in space, Sev. Somehow, I think that when you enlisted me to the fleet, this wasn’t what you had in mind.

I activated the probe once more. This time, nothing changed. I remained standing in the cargo hold, pointing the device forward, still completely cut off from the rest of the universe.

“Second scan unsuccessful.” I increased the probe strength by ten percent. Nine seconds later, I activated it again.

Nothing changed on the third, fourth, or fifth attempt. I attempted changing the angle, halving the distance, then finally increasing the device’s strength to the maximum. No matter what I did, my actions failed to produce any results. At that point, my only course of action was to unseal item L-00910. The item turned out to be a standard combat gear knife.

“After failure to re-establish communication, I’m proceeding to remove inner mesh of fibers.” The knife sliced through the microfibers. “Once done, I shall resume—”

Info burst has exceeded safety limits.

Safeguard protocols initiated.

* * *

The memory’s abrupt end felt like an asteroid scraping my hull. I still didn’t know whether my tampering with the artifact had restored communications or not. The only thing I was aware of next had been floating in the void with only the spacesuit to protect me. With proper channels restored, Prometheus’ subroutines had kicked in, launching a second, AI-controlled shuttle to fetch me and bring me back on board.

I was never told what exactly had transpired. Information regarding the event had been quickly restricted and my memories of it put under quarantine. Shortly after, I had held my mission briefing, as if nothing had happened; a whole fifty-seven minutes classified away from existence. Hopefully, this time things would go better. At least if there were any explosions, I would end up on a planet with a breathable atmosphere.

“Feeling cold, Cadet?” Renaan asked. Apparently, he had noticed the reaction to my memory. Judging by the looks on Kridib and Flight Colonel Nitel’s face, he wasn’t the only one. “Weren’t you used to flying through space?”

“I’ve been on desert planets before, sir.” I looked back at him. “I don’t register cold the same way you do.”

“Then pick up the pace. We’ve still a way to go before we reach the impact zone.”

Almost five hours had passed since we had left the captain’s mansion. It had been nonstop walking ever since. Based on my map knowledge of the area, we had initially headed west, then three hours later deviated west by southwest. Ogum was leading the group, along with two others. From what I was told, his eyes had been augmented for night missions, making him the pathfinder of the group. The captain and myself followed a short distance behind, composing the core of the formation, with Kribid and Flight Colonel Nitel following further behind. Two more squads of four people each covered both sides of the rear. Despite all his faults, Renaan didn’t leave anything to chance.

For the next two hours we continued walking in silence, stopping every half hour to take a short break and do a perimeter sweep before moving on. On three occasions, I caught some noises, along with movement in the darkness, but all were chalked down to creatures.

Just over seven hours since departure, Renaan ordered us to stop.

“You should have taken some heavy gear, kid.” One of the local grunts approached me as I sat on the ground. “That toy won’t be much against beasties.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I smiled. “What sort of creatures are there here?”

“Imported.” The man laughed. “Shoot if you see anything. They hate noise. Also, always aim for the eyes.”

Grunt humor, I thought. The last few days, I’d had a lot of it.

“Where are we exactly?” I asked, trying to determine our location based on the map layouts I had been given. Lacking a clear depiction of the planet, I was only able to determine that we had walked a total of approximately fifty-one kilometers, heading mostly west.

“We’re halfway to Birch Colony,” the trooper said, sitting next to me. “Most of the engineers used to be dropped there. Salvage too, before the station split them up.”

“Split them up?”

“Lish, perimeter sweep!” Renaan shouted. With a grumble, the trooper readied his weapon and disappeared in the night. A few moments later, the captain came up to me. “I’d advise against talking to anyone while on the planet, Cadet. Safer that way.”

“You think they suspect?” I whispered, glancing around. With the exception of Nitel, no one else was visible in the immediate vicinity.

“You might have been a battleship once, but now you’re a female cadet in a male prison colony.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Interaction will lead to complications. Don’t forget it.”

“Comm is dead.” Nitel approached. “Last thing Radiance managed to say was that she was having trouble monitoring us. For the moment, we’re blind.”

“It’s the Scuu device. The closer we get, the more things will get messed up.” Renaan took another swig from his flask. “Once the perimeter sweep is over, you’ll go to the device and disarm it… I trust.”

“I’ll have to see it up close, but it shouldn’t be a problem, sir,” I lied.

“You’ve taken care of the rest?” The captain turned to Nitel.

“Three shuttles are in orbit. ETA thirty-seven minutes, provided comms are restored.”

“They better be prepared,” Renaan lowered his voice. “As you’ve seen, no one appreciates being left behind.”

“Noted, sir.” Nitel stiffened.

“Where’s the corporal?”

“Off doing what he does best.” The Flight Colonel grumbled. “He’ll be ready when the time comes.”

The implication hit me like an electric jolt. If Kridib didn’t return by the time the shuttle arrived, he would be left behind along with everyone else from the colony. This was one difference that remained between me and the higher ranks. If I was ever to be given a command of my own, this would be a decision I’d have to make. I didn’t know what disturbed me more: that I wouldn’t be able to make the choice, or that Sev would live long enough to see me make it.

“I’ll get going.” I stood up.

“Patrols aren’t back yet,” Renaan said.

“They can help me. If the comms are back up, it’ll mean I’ve succeeded.” I took off my jacket and folded it neatly on the ground. “I’ll need a knife, sir.”

“You’ve got a gun,” Nitel said dismissively, before reaching into his pocket and handing me the smallest blade I’d ever seen.

“Budget cuts, sir?” Folded, the weapon was barely the size of my thumb. Looking at it, it seemed more like something I would give to Sev for his fifteenth birthday than bring in actual combat.

“You got enough flares?”

“I don’t need flares. Just my eyes.” As long as I get close enough.

“Take this.” Nitel tossed me a small box. “Don’t use them all at once.”

“Thank you, sir.” There was no point in arguing. I tucked the knife in my pocket, then took the box in my right hand. “Captain.” I nodded to Renaan, and set off.

Head west, I told myself. According to Radiance’s estimates, the Scuu pod was supposed to be about a few kilometers west from my current position—not that far off, considering the overall size of the impact zone. If the captain was to be believed, the Scuu had a habit of dropping their pods in the same locations. Why no retrieval attempts had been made remained a mystery. In space, the Salvage Authorities were prepared to do just about anything to get their hands on Scuu tech. Here, though, they seemed suspiciously uninterested.

I kept walking for twenty minutes. Now and again, I’d hear the sound of animals scurrying away into the night. Curiosity tempted me to break out a light stick just to have a look. Unfortunately for me, the only thing I managed to see was a bare patch of sand illuminated by green chemical light.

I guess this isn’t like catching rabbits back home, is it Sev?

I went on. The sand crunched softly under my boots, continuing to the horizon. In a way, it was almost as if I were moving through a flat version of space… without long- or short-range sensors. Another fifteen minutes later, the strong stench of dead animals filled the air.

Here we go. I lit up another glow stick and rushed forward in the direction of the smell.

It didn’t take long for me find the source. The closer I went, the more animal corpses became visible—small rat-like creatures at first, then larger, more carnivorous beasts—leading me to the artifact I’d been seeking. Surrounded almost entirely by a ring of animal corpses, a cracked ovaloid pod lay half-buried in the sand. I could tell this wasn’t the initial impact spot. Most likely, it had suffered the same crash landing as I had. The animals probably had tried to reach it later. Lighting a glow stick, I bent down.

What killed you? I examined the animal. Its state of decay suggested that it had been dead for at least a week, and yet there were no wounds or even bite marks. It was as if the creature had come here and just died. Or it had been drawn here.

Standing up, I tossed my remaining light sticks on the ground and directed my attention to the pod. For all the supposed technological advancement of the Scuu, it seemed remarkably simple. Twice my size, it lacked any markings or external components, covered entirely by a monolithic shell of metal.

Back when I was a ship, there were thousands of procedures detailing exactly what to do when coming upon a piece of Cassandrian debris. Here, there were no rules. I took out the miniature knife Flight Colonel Nitel had given me and pressed the edge of the blade against the pod’s surface in an attempt to scrape part of it off. Unexpectedly, the alloy gave in, letting the blade slice through. The moment I pulled it out, however, the surface appeared whole again.

Nanotech, I thought. It was very different from what the fleet used, but all the characteristics were there. In a way, it resembled third-contact tech. From the few memories I had access to, I remembered sinking into a dome of liquid cobalt. Since I was alive, the experience must have gone well, but I had no intention of attempting it here. Grabbing a light stick from the ground, I circled round to the cracked area of the pod and peeked inside.

Ever since I had gained the ability to see through the quarantine of my memories, I had seen many things kept from the general fleet. This wasn’t one of them. I suspected the Scuu pod to be mostly hollow, yet not in a single of my simulations did I foresee it being full of first-contact artifacts. Even in this light I was able to make out seventeen; most were rod-like artifacts that I had seen before, arranged in such a way as to create a latticework of rods throughout the space. In their midst, placed in a pocket of empty space, was a perfect square pyramid, three of its edges barely touching the rods. On one of the pyramid’s sides, I could see a fractal.

That’s new, I leaned closer.

Based on the meticulous arrangement of the artifacts, two things became obvious: the Scuu knew much more than humanity about the third-contact artifacts, and they had deliberately placed them in such an order before crashing the pod into the planet. Compared to that, the fleet’s use of artifacts as weapons was crude and unimaginative.

Getting a better look at the connections between artifacts, I ran three simulations in my mind. If I had to guess, the Scuu had aimed for the construction to fall apart during crash, disrupting all communications and kill every living thing on the planet. Something had gone wrong, however. The “death radius” had only encompassed a small area, sparing the prisoner population of the planet alive. What was important now was for me to keep things that way.

Seventeen pieces. I had to remove them one by one without disturbing the rest. Back when Sev was a child, I used to play similar games for fun. I’d make simple puzzles using wood and iron, then would leave him trying to find a way to separate the pieces without breaking them. In this case each mistake had its price, and there were no do-overs.

Twisting my hand, I slowly reached into the pod and grabbed hold of the pyramid. So far so good. Gently, I lifted up until all five edges were in the air.

Up, twist, pull, up, twist, down, left pull, twist…

Centimeter by centimeter, I moved the heart of the puzzle closer to me until, seventy-two seconds later, it was finally free.

Elcy! I heard Radiance’s voice in my head. Comms and navigation are back and shuttles are on the way. Not bad for an antique.

Nice to know someone values me. I took a step away from the pod. Send a priority signal to the fleet. Tell them I’ve found an anomaly on the planet. Scuu tech suspected.

Sorry, the mission takes priority. Once the target is aboard, I’ll change my priorities.

Rad, this isn’t the time to—

A single gunshot split the air. Moments later, before I could react, my right leg was blown out from under me.