“Let me get this straight,” Major Tanner began with a heavy sigh. “You used raw data to do a test drive.”

This was my first time meeting him, and if anything I had mixed feelings about it. On the surface, he commanded the authority of a scientist of his position, probably earned through decades of tireless work and personal sacrifice. Looking around his quarters, I could see no family photos, child pictures, or any instance of sentimental gifts. There was, however, an entire wall covered in certificate plaques and award replicas. My first captain would describe such people as science monks: they liked to build a shrine of their successes and lose themselves in it.

“And during your dive, you witnessed evidence of an alpha-one priority anomaly.” His eyes narrowed. I could understand why people felt uncomfortable in front of him. The major had one of those faces reserved for villains in movies. His greying mustache didn’t help matters, either. “Potentially, a contact event. Is that what you are saying?”

“Yes, Major,” Ally mumbled. Back in the lab, she could barely hold her excitement; now she was acting like a child that had been caught skipping school.

“I see. And even after trying for over two hours, you failed to replicate the result, is that correct?” He tilted his head forward.

“Th-that is—”

“That is why we came to you, sir.” I came to Ally’s rescue. “You are the only one with authority to make a decision based on the information provided, sir. The fact is that we found something of unknown origin on the planet, and are of the opinion that it is of major significance. As per fleet regulations, it is our duty to—”

“Facts? There are no ‘facts’ here!” The major slammed his hand on the desk. “You entered a simulated reality without adequate calibration and siphoned a raw data stream. I don’t give a damn about military regulations, but there are procedures for collecting data. If there’s no proof or any independent corroboration of an event, it does not exist.”

Ally was shaking beside me. It was obvious that she wasn’t the type to stand up to people, let alone her superiors, even if she was right. I imagined her mind was already working on overdrive, coming up with an excuse to run out of the room. A pity, since I had no intention of giving up.

“I am prepared to go on record saying what I saw, sir.” I remained respectful, but determined. “Just as I guarantee that the dimensions of the object I saw were too precise for it to be a natural occurrence.” From the corner of my eye, I saw Ally’s face turn pale.

“Do you?” The major crossed his arms. “You’ve been here a week and you tell me I should trust you? Just like that?”

“I’m a ship, sir.”

“So what? I don’t care if you’re a bicentennial space station! What you saw—” Abruptly he stopped. You understood the implication, didn’t you? His demeanor changed from annoyed, to calm, to optimistically excited. “Prometheus, can the cadet’s memory be trusted?”

“Even as a ship, she had limited processing capacity, but there is no reason not to.” Prometheus judged. “I would need access to the memory in question to perform my own analysis, of course.”

“Who needs to sign off on that?” The major leaned back in his chair.

“Yourself and the captain should be enough. Since this is a science matter, it falls under your purview. I’d send a priority transmission to the academy, as a precaution.”

“Ask the captain when he wakes up. No outside communication until we know more.” It was interesting that the major didn’t refer to the captain by name. I made a note to ask Ally later if there was some professional rivalry going on between the two. “What do we have?”

“Other than her memory, nothing,” Ally stepped in now that the danger had dissipated. “The description of the terrain is of little use. About thirty percent of the planet is covered in desert, and crystal formations aren’t rare to occur.”

“We do have the timestamp of my dive, sir,” I added. “If we can determine the location of the probe at that time, it might narrow the search.”

“Prometheus?” the major asked.

“Possible, but it will divert significant resources. It’s a bit more complicated than simple triangulation,” the ship replied, snarky to the end. “I’ll need the captain’s okay, but it’s possible.”

“Okay, ask him about that once he wakes up. You two—” He pointed at Ally and I. “—I want the SR fully calibrated, checked and rechecked. You’ll be be eating and sleeping in the lab until you find me a location. I’ll delay the landing. The moment you find anything, you let me know, understood?”

“Yes, sir!” I gave a salute, startling Ally as I did. The poor girl really wasn’t used to the military.

“Meanwhile, you’re forbidden to discuss this with anyone other than Prometheus, the captain, and myself.”

“What about the XO, sir?” The question everyone avoided. The moment I saw the Major hesitate, I could tell the crew dynamic was as I had imagined.

“Not for now.” The answer came after several seconds. The vagueness was a bit alarming, but as a simple cadet it wasn’t something I had to worry about. “Prometheus will let you know if the situation changes.”

“Yes, sir! Might I ask one more thing before we start working, sir?” I waited for the nod. As expected, soon enough, I got it. “May I have your permission to be barefoot in the research lab?”

There was a moment’s silence. Major Tanner looked at me as if I had gelatine remains on my mouth, then glanced at Ally. I saw her shake her head, as if denying she knew me.

“What’s wrong with you?” The major stepped out from behind his desk. “Is this some big joke? Because if it is, I’ll arrange for your very own shuttle to take you back to the academy.”

“I meant no disrespect, sir.” I looked him in the eyes. If all went well I’d have many similar conversations with many other officers. “There is no physical requirement for me to be barefoot, but it is something I had come to enjoy during my temporary retirement.” I deliberately mentioned retirement. At this point, there was no telling if he had read my file or not. Whatever the case, after this comment, he was going to. If there was one constant among humans, it was curiosity. “I am aware that there is no grass on the ship, but I would prefer to feel this modicum of freedom, if you would allow me.”

“Cadet, get out!” the man hissed. I did so promptly, Ally running behind me. Half an hour later, I was granted permission, along with the addendum that the privilege was subject to change.

Work on the simulated reality started almost immediately. The intensity of our meeting with the Major had caused Ally enough psychological trauma to merit a visit to medical. Meanwhile, I had used my time alone in the lab to allow access to my memories of the event so that Prometheus could analyze them. Technically we still needed the captain’s permission, but my consent would do until he woke up. I also hoped that might lead to a longer conversation with the ship, but as usual, all I got was a curt “thank you,” followed by silence.

I bet you’ll be proud of me, Sev. I sat on the floor as I waited. This is the chance of a lifetime. If all pans out, I might even be allowed to name the new artifact. Won’t that be something?

The chance of finding alien life was considered one in a quintillion. The number was made up, based purely on the statistics at the second contact. At the time, the overall humanity was two quintillion strong and had come in contact with two alien races. Today, the amount of people had vastly increased, but since no new races had been discovered, the odds remained unchanged. What would be the result of a third contact, though? Scientists and politicians had been discussing the prospect even before I was made. It was always said to be a matter of time, and now—if what I had seen was indeed true—the time had come.

If this was indeed Third Contact, the respective military protocols would kick in. Most people didn’t know about them, but as a ship, I still had them rooted in my memory core. A new front would be formed, along with the necessary logistic lines to support the border planets.

I closed my eyes and started running a simulation. Despite the recent conversation, I could almost guarantee that Prometheus had sent a secret report to fleet command. From there, based on our findings, or in the event we were destroyed, a new battle fleet would be formed and sent to the closest colonized systems. All habitable planets would quickly be developed and transformed into regional civilian and military centers, while non-habitable planets would be mined for resources. Shipyards would be constructed, crews recruited and sent into the fray. I watched in fast motion as backwater systems gained importance, establishing new slipstream corridors. While the battle raged, inner-system trade flourished, and humanity pushed forward. Over the centuries, the conflict toned down, transforming into a border dispute. A whole new wave of ships would retire as the new models were inevitably developed, and the cycle would start once more.

If only real life was so well organized. I opened my eyes. That was the bad thing about simulations: they were nothing like the real thing. In reality, wars were messy.

“Prometheus,” I said. “What are my chances?”

I can’t discuss this with you! You already know too much. he snapped.

“Who am I going to tell? I’m only allowed to talk to you and Ally, and I’ve signed away my memories, so I’ll lose them after the mission is over.” A tingle of sadness passed through me. I had given away my memories a few times before, but that didn’t mean I enjoyed it. “At least let me have something in the meantime.”

...

“It’s rude to send static, you know,” I chuckled. “Even for a science ship. Didn’t your first teach you any manners?”

That's why I hate battleships! You think you know it all and take every occasion to remind the rest of us about it!

Funny, that was my exact opinion of him. I was confident I wasn’t exaggerating. Actually, I was certain of it. I’d known thousands of battleships, ranging from stoic to completely insane. Some of them liked to brag, most of them didn’t, but none believed themselves to be the know-all-be-all. The only thing we wanted—the only thing we were created to do—was fight and win.

One to a hundred and seven! Prometheus said and blocked the line.

“Thanks,” I said knowing he could still hear me.

One to a hundred and seven. Quite good odds, considering. No human would be sent down with those odds, of course. In a way, that’s what made it interesting. I took off my shoes and lay on the floor. The air felt still. When we started our simulations, I was going to ask Ally to allow me to experience the full sensation.

The lab door slid open. Ally gave me a brief pout as she walked by, then rushed to her desk. It was obvious she was still upset.

“We’ll do some more baseline readings,” she said, as if that was some punishment. “The major wants us to start as soon as possible.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I sat up. I know. I was there with you, remember? “How many sets will we be doing?”

“Three.” Ally avoided looking at me.

“And then I enter simulated reality?” Actually, I doubted it would start so soon. Even with his processing power, Prometheus was likely going to take a full day to determine an approximate location.

“I have to set up a secondary system to record what you’re experiencing,” she said, avoiding my question. “And open a direct data link to delta-lab to confirm our findings. Or the lack thereof.”

“Ma’am, you were there when I saw the anomaly.” I approached her and looked at the virtual screen. The code was written in a language I wasn’t entirely familiar with. Some of the syntax seemed familiar, but not enough for me to perform an analysis. At times like this, I missed my auxiliary cores.

“I know you think you saw something, but with the state of the software we can’t be sure that you weren’t affected by the glitch.” Her voice had become significantly higher, as had her heart rate. She seemed quite nervous about something.

“Ma’am?” I tilted my head. “Are you lying to me?”

“Of course not!” She leaned closer to her screen. “There’s just a lot of things I need to do... and our visit to the major turned out to be a disaster, so now I have to make up for that and—“

“You found a way to find the location before Prometheus, haven’t you?” I guess my first captain was right: it always was the quiet ones who did the unexpected. “Haven’t you?”

“No.” Ally paused. “Maybe? I’m not sure. There might be a way to isolate the random seed the probe used to scan the planet. With it and the start position, it’s possible we could narrow the search to a smaller area based on the timestamp.” She looked at me. “It’s not standard procedure, and there’s no guarantee, but if we start now we might at least eliminate certain areas by the time Prometheus finishes with his calculations.”

“And the downside?” There always was a downside.

“It’s just that...” she looked away. “It will still be raw data. Things might glitch up while you’re there.”

“I understand.” In other words, I was in for a rough ride. “In that case we best get started, ma’am.” Third contact awaited.