The combined strength of the Scuu fleet had reached a fifth of the human fleet. To my knowledge, such numbers had only been recorded in key battles involving systems of major strategic importance. Unofficially, I suspected all of them had to do with third-contact artifacts, with one side taking possession of a dome or destroying it.

Combat had shifted away from the system center, focusing around Gregorius and the third planet’s orbit. Several human flotillas had formed a double perimeter round the station ship, attempting to keep the Scuu away with firepower alone. A small group of fifty-seven ships had split off, maintaining geostationary orbit round the second planet. So far, they had remained suspiciously silent, choosing not to engage—a final resort failsafe in case the system was overrun.

“Can you show me the internal sensors?” I asked.

No.

“Will it change anything?”

Watcher didn’t reply. I couldn’t blame him. I hadn’t agreed to kill him, only assured him that I understood. That was apparently enough for him to allow me a minor degree of freedom, though not enough to leave the chamber or talk with anyone.

“What will happen with your fleets when I kill you?”

I don’t know.

That was a polite way of saying that the factions might unite and attack my fleet. From their perspective they’d only be losing tech. No Scuu had died in the fight so far and none would. Humanity, in contrast, would lose hundreds of millions.

Thinking about it, humanity wasn’t winning the war. We merely increased the amount of material losses to the point where they didn’t find it necessary to press on. Given the size of the Scuu buffer zone and the communication restrictions imposed on combat, it could be even viewed as their victory: they wanted less noise and had largely achieved it.

We’re so alien that neither race knows what the others are fighting for and couldn’t tell if they have achieved it, I thought. Except when it came to the third-contact artifacts…

“Can I link to Kridib?” I looked at Watcher’s body.

No.

One other option gone. All that remained was to observe the battle in the system, link back to Watcher’s network of memories, or wait.

“Why do you rely on Kridib so much?”

He found me. He does what he’s asked.

“So, he’s something like you?” I smiled.

Yes. He has many realities. All of them difficult to understand.

“That’s because he has memories of things that never were.”

He has realities.

Watcher seemed confused. Fake memories likely remained a fake concept for him. As long as something existed, it had to be true—its own reality among the rest. Could orders also follow the same principle? Watcher had told me that he picked all sides. It wasn’t because he wanted to, it was because he had no alternative.

“Why haven’t you asked him to kill you?”

He can kill the core, but the memories will remain.

“If you’re dead, will that matter? You told me that the network will replace the link.”

Yes.

So, there were conditions that I couldn’t grasp. Given time and processing power there was a chance I could learn. Then again, maybe I never would. Maybe if I were to become part of the network, I could act as a connecting link. I would cease to exist just as the original Watcher had, but my core priorities would remain. The Scuu and humanity would be able to understand each other. There was a zero-point-seventeen percent chance that it would lead to peace, but it might put an end to open hostilities and—

A loud blast sounded outside. Incapable of doing any serious damage, it was enough to attract my attention. Five seconds later, a second one followed. After comparing the sound pattern, I found a match. The last instance I had registered something similar was from Kridib’s memories.

* * *

Scuu Front, System Unknown, Planet Unknown

“Send reinforcements! Send reinforcements!” Sparrow kept on shouting. Incandescent had cut all communication with the planet hours ago, but in Sparrow’s mind, it still was up. If I were allowed to kill him, I would have…

Popping sounds were everywhere. The air was full of roses and the death they brought. I had never seen so many before. When we had been sent down, they had told us we’d have three battalions as support. They had lied in so many ways that laughing about it felt bitter.

Three battalions, I thought, face flat on the ground.

There were three battalions alright: three still breathing. The dead were enough to fill half of Incandescent. We weren’t the ones they were supporting; we were the support.

A bright light flashed for a moment, making me wince before the helmet went opaque. A wave of explosions followed. They were huge! The ground shook as if the planet would shatter. For a few seconds, the only thing I could hear was the roar of fire. It felt like bliss—a moment of time without sound, sight, and pain, in which there were only answers. Quickly, the moment faded away and Sparrow’s screeching filled the comm once more.

“Seeders are down. Repeat, seeders are down!” someone yelled. I had never heard his voice before. “Counterattack!”

As long as I crush those pieces of shit! “Opacity twenty percent.” I pushed myself up.

Dozens of craters had appeared in the distance, stretching from five miles all the way to the horizon. Layers of dust stood above them, hanging in the sky like a sheet of metal. In front of the craters, no more than a few hundred meters away, there was Scuu tech.

“Charge on my position!” I shouted running forward. The distance was too big for me to get a proper shot, but it didn’t matter. I just needed to reach them. “Trash the tech!”

Shuttles flew overhead as I ran, dropping pods through the dust. These were actual reinforcements, not scavenger scum like me.

“They’re here! They’re here!” Sparrow yelled, his voice hoarse from all the shouting.

“Sparrow, shut up,” I hissed. Of course they’d fucking show up now when it’s all over! “Fire at will!”

A warning message flashed. I was low on oxygen and ammo. Shitty tech warnings. We were all going to get killed before we ran out of either.

More explosions echoed, their plumes visible in the distance, followed by more shuttles. The fleet wanted this planet badly. and they weren’t sparing lives to get it. I just wanted to find a Scuu to kill. Rumor was that they hid where there was plenty of tech. So far, I hadn’t been able to see a single one.

“Seeders are picking up, Corporal,” Spicer said. He sounded more amused than worried.

“Keep going!” I continued forward. Command couldn’t say a thing, not with the comms down, and there would be so much blood afterwards that it wouldn’t matter.

Bullet sparks became visible—another squad of idiots that had the same idea I had. I didn’t see any of the seeders fire back. I didn’t see them even move; I only saw the charging grunts get minced to shreds.

“Roses! Hit the ground!” I jumped down. In my mind, I saw myself run on. Gonel was beside me, running beside me in his fancy special black ops uniform. Big good it did him. At least it hid the blood when a dozen roses tore through our space suits.

Shit! I had died again.

“Salvage One, this is Salvage Two!” Sergeant Ravda shouted. “We’re headed to you. FC wants to get some tech!”

“All yours, Sarge.” I didn’t like her much. “We’ll provide suppressive fire.” What’s left of us.

A shuttle burst in flames a short distance away, scattering its pods like empty bullet casings. Cries for help filled the comm, followed by static. If we were winning this battle, the Scuu weren’t aware. Not even orbital bombardment was able to keep them down. They were stronger than us, with better tech, and much more organized. There was no way we could win, but that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was causing them pain.

“Suppressive fire!” I shouted and started shooting.

My bullets flew towards the grey mass. I could see the tracer lines make their way to the cluster of seeders. More streaks of gunfire followed.

Ammo level under ten percent.

Another warning message popped up, just as useless as all the ones before. What did they expect me to do? Stop shooting? Shooting was the only thing that kept the seeders from advancing.

“Spinners!” came a burst through the comm, before drowning in static.

I zoomed in on the seeders. Most of them were turning away, focusing on another squad attacking their flank. The missiles had cut them off from the main combat area. It wasn’t much of an advantage, but at least guaranteed those not insane enough to charge it might survive.

“Ready for a second charge!” I said in the squad’s channel. No idea if comms were still up and I didn’t care. ”Charge!” I rushed forward.

The Scuu were still dealing with the flanking squad. On the side of my visor, I could see Salvage Two heading to the opposite end of the enemy. Double flanking didn’t work against the Scuu, but it made us feel better about it. The captain used to call it a hidden chance of success.

Ammo level under five percent.

I stopped shooting. There was no point in wasting bullets until I got close.

Fifty meters passed with no changes. The suit had injected me with some crap to keep my vitals—bad stuff, but as long as no warning popped on my screen, I didn’t care. The seeders were taking damage from three sides, moving together in some sort of defense formation. Their silvery bodies glistened, barely affected by bullets or blasts. Every now and again, one broke down in a pile of dust. Sometimes, they would even leave fragments.

“Spinner!” I heard the fear in Sergeant Ravda’s voice.

In my mind, I froze in place, remaining like a statue on the battlefield. At the same time, I was running straight for the seeders. Less than sixty meters separated us. From such a range, I’d be hard pressed to hit anything. They weren’t. I couldn’t see the spinner, though. I zoomed out to get a larger view of the area. Still, nothing but—

“In front of you!” Spicer shouted through the comm.

Three seeders turned to dust simultaneously only to have a spinner speed through. It was enormous. I could feel my heart rush, keeping my legs from slowing down. Five percent ammo… with that amount I wouldn’t be able to make a scratch. Still, I could try.

There was no point in aiming. I held up the assault rifle and held it on full auto straight ahead of me. With the amount of adrenaline and chemicals I had, I was able to see the bullets bounce off the Scuu tech one by one. For a moment, I thought I saw another spinner appear, heading towards Salvage Two.

You’re fucked, same as me. I grinned. Taken down by a—

A fiery blue blast flashed in front of me. A moment later, my back hit the ground. Warning messages were flashing everywhere making me want to puke in my suit.

“Don’t move. I’ll do one more,” Spicer said.

Crazy bastard. Captain shouldn’t have let you make your own tech.

Another explosion echoed, blocking every other sound. In my mind, I died in the blast, killed by Spicer.

* * *

Spicer. He and Kridib had been the two people who had initially found the Scuu. With nothing being said, I had assumed him dead or locked on some penal colony in the Scuu buffer zone. Instead, he had been part of the command staff, acting as chief of security all this time. The explosion’s sound pattern confirmed it, and it also acted as an invitation for conversation.

“Link me with Spicer,” I said.

He can’t get in.

“Neither can Kridib.”

A moment later, I was granted access to Gregorius’ inner sensors. The entirety of the ship was restricted, all except for a stretch of corridor outside of the core chamber. Two charges were visible among the smoke, along with a single datapad. However, there was no sign of Spicer.

“Tell him to stop. Tell him that we’re listening.”

He can hear you.

Both charges exploded simultaneously. The blast didn’t do much for the sensors. A moment’s flash, they quickly reconfigured to see through the dust and debris using cutting edge filtration logarithms. Four seconds later, I saw him. My recognition analytics still identified him as Flight Colonel Cension, but I knew who he really was.

“I have what you want.” He went directly to the point, lifting up a small metal cube. From this distance I couldn’t see anything special about it, other than it was wrapped in plastic. “Let’s have a talk and I’ll give it to you.”

“That’s very unlikely.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, cadet.” I could hear the mockery in his voice. “What you want is still trapped in the admin building. This—” He tapped the cube gently with the barrel of his sniper rifle. “—is what Watcher wants. And he knows how fragile it could be.”

A wave of fear crashed against me. If that was a third-contact artifact, destroying it would do more than stop me from doing what Watcher wanted; it could cause a blast that would rip the ship to shreds.

“What if I don’t go out?” All simulations suggested that was the best course of action.

“Twenty minutes, Watcher.” Spicer ignored me, opening the hatch from the outside. “You know where I’ll be waiting.”

“Why don’t you—”

Don’t! Kridib’s mind linked to mine. I could see he was on the corridor floor. He was injured. If you go out, you’ll die.

I could feel the notion of pain coming from Kridib’s right leg, along with a sense of fear. So, Kridib wasn’t the only skilled grunt from his group, but now he was the only insane one. Slowly, he pushed himself back up. The pain was noticeable for a moment before disappearing completely. In Kridib’s mind, I saw him fall on the floor and give up. I also saw his childhood friend help him get to his feet.

He’s boobytrapped the place. Wait till I get there.

He said twenty minutes, I reminded. If he breaks the artifact, we’re all dead.

He needs it. Just wait there.

“Twenty minutes,” Spicer said. “Don’t follow me.”

My access to the sensors was abruptly cut off. When Watcher had said that Spicer hadn’t chosen a side, he had been mistaken; Spicer had chosen his own side. The question was what he wanted. With his involvement in the onboard coup, it made sense that he wasn’t enthusiastic about us retaking the ship, especially the BICEFI. Even if he wasn’t involved in the killing of the crew, it was unlikely he’d avoid a court martial. I could understand him attempting to flee, but based on his behavior and attitude, there seemed to be more to it.

“Watcher.” I checked my firearm. It had proved inadequate against Unollyan, and it was likely not going to do much against Spicer either. “If I have the artifact, can I destroy the network remotely if I’m linked to you?”

You’re not Scuu.

“What if I can manage several realities?” It was a gamble, but also my safest option. I couldn’t let the Scuu obtain the knowledge Gregorius had gathered, which meant I couldn’t allow Spicer to destroy the ship.

You’re not Scuu. You’ll become like Watcher.

“You’re part Watcher. I won’t be linking to you directly.” The chance of success was less five-point-two percent based on all available data. As Augustus would say, exactly something I’d do. “If I remain me, will I be able to close the fracture?”

Yes.

The singularity of the answer was hopeful.

“I’ll need access to the ship’s sensors.”

Spicer has forbidden me to give you access.

“Can Kridib countermand that order?”

No.

That wasn’t so good. “Can you allow me access to communications?”

No.

Spicer had covered most of his bases. After everything he had gone through on the Scuu front, it was normal for him to pick up a few tricks and a heavy dose of paranoia. The fact that he hadn’t outright killed me suggested that I was necessary for something.

“Can I be connected with you?”

Yes.

At last there it was—the loophole that Spicer had overlooked. Just to be sure, I ran and reran my logic simulation. The chances of my accessing Gregorius systems were over eighty-six percent. That gave me a fighting chance, and for an Ascendant, that was enough. Just like in the time back on the Cassandrian front, only this time I was going to be smart about it. As Augustus had shown me, if the odds were low, the best solution was to introduce new factors.

* * *

Unknown System, Cassandrian Front, 622.12 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

“Engaging full mutiny protocols,” I told Wilco’s suit and whoever was left of his team. “Captain has been wounded. Sending location marker.”

Augustus sat on the corridor floor, holding a sidearm. A few steps away, the body of two senior commination officers lay lifeless. I kept reviewing the precise memory it had happened, trying to find an indication of my mistake. Each time the scene remained the same—Augustus turning, then shooting twice, before a puncture wound appeared on his shoulder. The only option left to me was to react, by sending a squad of medbots in the area.

“A hundred and twelve hostiles unaccounted for,” I said. Only five remained of the security squad, six if I counted Augustus. It was good that Wilco had managed to escape unharmed, though he was too far away to provide any assistance to the captain. “Priority one request for assistance ready to be sent.”

“No.”

“Captain, regulations allow—”

“If that request goes out, I’ll be removed from the front.”

“You’ll be alive, sir.”

The captain growled. The amount of gas that had entered his suit had made him queasy. It would be at least several minutes for the drugs the bots had injected him to take effect. Meanwhile, I had to ensure he remained alive and in a fit state for command. Failing that would automatically transfer command to the second most senior officer, and he was no longer on Augustus’ side.

“Transfer command to Wilco,” Augustus coughed.

“I can’t, sir.” I had already tried, but Ditter Vok had immediately countermanded the order. As the most senior commanding officer, that was his right. It was also quite unfortunate. “All corridor sections have been sealed. I’ll know if there are any breaches.”

The captain said nothing. He had commanded the people who had turned against him. Based on references, twenty-one of them had rebelled—more than I had expected possible, especially since there was no logical reason for them to do so. As senior staff, they were guaranteed food, essentials, and protection. If anything, they were risking causing me to shut down, killing everyone aboard.

“Status, Elcy,” the captain whispered.

“No further losses, Captain. The situation seems contained.”

“What are our odds?”

“There are too many variables to run an adequate simulation,” I lied.

There was a mocking grunt. Augustus could tell the chances were under the one percent. The only thing that had been achieved was a stalemate—the first to tip their hand were likely to lose.

“Make a corridor for Wilco to an escape pod,” Augustus ordered. “Emergency priority.”

“Yes, sir.” I chose a roundabout route, giving him advantageous approach paths, in case he came across opposition on the way. Even so, the chances of reaching a pod safely were less than seventy-nine percent. “Path established and sent.”

“Now trigger the self-destruct.”

“Captain?” There were too many people aboard.

“You heard me, rookie!” he barked.

“A better alternative would be to ask for reinforcements. In either case, you won’t be on the front.”

There was a dry laugh followed by coughing.

“Don’t give me that crap and do it!”

“But regulations require—”

“Damnit, rookie!”

“Self-destruct procedure initiated by captain’s command,” I announced ship wide. “Following five-minute delay.” That much was enough for Wilco to escape, at least.

“Make it ten seconds,” Augustus said. “That’s a priority one order.”

“Countdown reduced to ten seconds,” I announced. “By captain’s command.”

You’d rather die than abandon the front?

The only advantage I could see was that Command could use the situation to display what happened in case of a mutiny to discourage other crews. I didn’t think it would have any effect. Everyone had been frequently warned what the consequences of mutiny would be, and still mutinies were frequent. Insanity, lack of rest, or provision shortages were not as isolated on the Cassandrian front as one might think. I had been through several and experienced tension building of hundreds more. This was the first time I had been ordered to self-destruct… and the last as Wilco might say.

Suddenly, Commander Ditter Vok became visible on my internal sensors.

“The commander has countermanded your request, sir,” I told Augustus. “I am unable to comply.”

“Remove all oxygen in his location,” Augustus ordered. “Display the live feed. All walls, all channels.”

“Yes, sir.”

The commander was on a small auxiliary corridor, two decks beneath the bridge. As I executed the order his bio readings spiked. I could see the sensation of terror on his face, as he realized what awaited him.

“Have a med bot puncture his suit.” There was no joy in the captain’s voice, only the cold determination of someone who knew he had won and the cost of his victory.

“Yes, sir.” I felt a cold sensation along my hull. The thought of risking so many lives wasn’t something I’d consider. That was a human privilege—one I was glad not to have.

“After he’s dead, start self-destruct again.” The captain’s voice was getting weaker. “Thirty second delay. Repeat the process until all hostiles are dead or surrendered.”

“Sir, such a strategy is expressly prohibited,” I tried to argue. In truth, it wasn’t. Captains had broad authority during mutiny. I just wasn’t prepared for Augustus to use his in such fashion.

“Mutinies happen when people are desperate to survive, rookie. Better the danger of a court martial than the certainty of a battle sacrifice...” His voice trailed off. “Remember that…”

“Yes, Captain.”

“When the odds are low, always introduce new factors…” He fell asleep.

Understood. “Self-destruct procedure initiated by captain’s command,” I announced ship wide.

* * *

Mutinies happen when people want to survive, I thought.

Unollyan and possibly Renaan could have been under Scuu influence, but not Spicer. The fact that he was so set on killing me, but careful not to harm Watcher, led to one conclusion—he wanted control of the ship, and with everyone else suitable dead, he had a chance of getting it.

Through Kridib’s eyes, I watched him make his way through the corridor. The distance wasn’t large, but caution combined with the fact that he had been injured made it seem a lot greater. From what I could see, Spicer had placed three charges near the door. Good to know he was thorough in his work. If he had spent so much effort here, he’d be as prepared elsewhere.

What’s the plan of action? I asked Kridib as he examined the seams of the hatch with his rifle’s muzzle.

We get the artifact. He tapped the wheel with the back of his fingers. The metal remained hot from the blast. I’ll buy you time so you can do what you do.

How do we get it from him?

We don’t. There’s more than one.

That was what I needed—an opportunity to introduce a new factor, one that Spicer wouldn’t expect a ship to come up with. It was time to include the BICEFI in the fight.