Second salvo hit, Aurora Borealis transmitted across all military channels. Half my hull’s gone. I’m sending escape pods your way.

Stay clear of me. Already at critical damage level. I’ll probably go in sixty-seven seconds, Incandescent replied. Give me a corridor to thrust into their front.

Moving aside and sending you an approach vector, I transmitted. Thanks, Inca.

I didn’t know the Incandescent all that well. He had only joined us for the front offensive, but I still felt unhappy about his early shutdown. So far, in the hour since the battle had started, over eighty battleships had been destroyed, some of them I considered close. Just as many were close to destruction. I had received three major breaches, losing eight decks and all the crew within. Thousands of my subroutines were dispatching med bots, while thousands more sealed parts of my corridors in an attempt to keep my overall integrity.

At least the bridge is safe, I thought, launching a barrage of missiles, followed by two waves of countermeasures.

“Decks thirty-four to forty-one secure, Captain,” I announced. “No survivors.” Making the report was painful. This wasn’t the first time I had lost crew, but each time it felt as if I was losing part of my core. “Aurie is requesting assistance for her escape pods. Your command?”

“Redirect them further to the rear,” captain Gibraltar whispered. His anxiety readings were off the roof, even with the nanites in his bloodstream. “Give me a missile estimate.”

“Thirty-nine salvos If I cannibalize myself.” I responded. “Two more if I use all escape pods and med-bots. I suggest that—”

“Eat all pods and shuttles,” the captain interrupted. “Coordinate with the rest of the fleet for rapid launch.”

“Yes, Captain.” I started the process.

Transforming shuttles to weapons wasn’t exactly a by-the-book procedure, but command always closed their eyes. Just to be sure, I transmitted the order to the theatre of war flagship.

You heard my captain, I said. I’ll clear a path so Inca can destruct in their ranks. Assists?

Coordinating salvo on your mark, Polar Reflection confirmed.

Coordinating salvo, Burst Fire, Morning Twilight, and Outer Glow joined in.

I’ll give what I got. Aurora Borealis laughed. I’m down to seven solos.

Keep it up, kids. A transmission from Crystal Scepter arrived. I’m launching my fighters and will be with you in forty-nine.

Crystal was a Majestic class carrier, five times my size. Ships like her usually remained in defense. So far, I’d rarely seen a carrier take part in the initial attack. The practice was to have them move in near the end of the battle to mop up pockets of resistance. According to her file, she was equipped with eleven thousand and two hundred automated short range fighters, each a semi-autonomous battle unit equipped with future gen weapon systems. That was a lot of firepower.

Mingling with us Ascendants, Crys? Aurie asked. She always had too much lip for her own good.

Just helping out. My scans showed her fighters starting to fly out of the carrier in swarms. Pretend I’m not even here.

It’ll be a bit difficult to ignore you. Two missiles managed to pass through my defense grid hitting me on the stern. Damage was moderate, thankfully without human loss. Part of my weapon capabilities were compromised, however. Immediately, I sent out repair bots to fix the issue, while launching another barrage of missiles.

“Salvo effectiveness reduced to ninety-three percent, Captain.” I performed a few quick simulations of my options. “Amount of salvos increased to—”

“Constant fire!” the captain ordered. “Are there any escape pods left?”

“Fifty-eight percent left. Should I stop missile creation?”

There was a long moment of silence. Everyone on the bridge turned to my captain, in anticipation of his decision. His order could be the equivalent of a death sentence. He was aware of it as well, and that made hm hesitate. Meanwhile, I continued receiving thousands of external and internal transmission. My hull integrity was temporarily restored until the next hit. Based on the battlefield simulations, though, it wouldn’t last long. I didn’t have the cores of a strategic ship, but based on the raw numbers, the Cassandrians had us at a clear disadvantage. Seven new ships on the front line sent their final transmissions before starting their final countdowns.

“Captain?” I reminded.

Starting self-destruct! Incandescent transmitted. Hope you win this one. Seconds later he disappeared from my sensors, along with three Cassandrian ships.

I hope I go like that, Aurie transmitted. Olympus, any news on reinforcements?

No update, Aurie, the flag ship replied. Keep the front lines.

“Captain? Do I eat the pods?” I repeated my question. If I was to do it, I had to know.

“Eat them,” he whispered. “We’re seeing this through.”

* * *

“Scan complete,” one of Prometheus’ subroutines announced. “You can proceed to put on your clothes and exit the quarantine chamber.”

“Thanks.” I waited for the last of the nanites to leave the air.

After spending a full day in a smelly oversized spacesuit, I was overjoyed to be able to walk on Prometheus again. My absence had created quite a stir, to the point that additional fleet assistance had been considered. I had inquired on the subject, yet being his typical self, Prometheus had refused any information with the excuse that I didn’t have the rank for such information. Technically, he was right, yet since I was involved in the “incident” it would have been nice to know a bit more. Not that I had ever given out such information voluntarily when I had been a ship. If anything, I had almost gotten reprimanded twice for stonewalling. Somehow, it seemed much more acceptable at the time.

“Can I—” I began, making my way to the neatly folded clothes in the far end of the quarantine chamber.

“Yes,” Prometheus interrupted me, almost immediately. “I’ve received the authority to let you walk barefoot in the lab.” I could tell there was some guilt involved. “Not that I see it anything more as a stupid indulgence.”

“Actually, I was about to ask if I could go to Lab C.” I took my temporary uniform shirt. It felt soft, and freshly constructed.

“That can wait until later. Right now, you’re to report to Major Tanner.”

“Not the captain?” This was a surprise.

“The captain has more important things to see to. As does the XO,” Prometheus added with a grumble. “Nothing that concerns you directly.”

“Sure.” Prometheus, right now everything concerns me directly. There always was the remote possibility that the whole loss of communication thing wasn’t related to my landing on the planet, yet I strongly doubted it. For the moment, all I knew was that I was deliberately kept in the dark.

I put on the rest of my clothes and waited. The door slid aside, letting me breathe the recycled ship air. It almost tasted sweet, although I used to filter it much better. Unlike me, science ships didn’t have to worry about peak crew efficiency.

As I made my way to the major’s quarters, scores of crew and scientists gathered on the sides of the corridor to stare at me. None of them said a word until they thought I was out of earshot. I was hoping to catch Ally, but she wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

Is Ally onboard? I asked Prometheus.

Sleeping. She was part of the team that tried to raise you since the incident. When I came through, the Major ordered that she and the rest get some sleep.

That’s nice. Thirty hours awake was rather impressive for a scientist. I take it the Major managed to get a short nap?

No. I pumped him up with nanites. That’s why he asked that you go see him ASAP. Prometheus paused for a few seconds. He wanted to explain a few things before your debriefing.

The few simple sentences managed to make me reevaluate my opinion of the man. In the week I’d known him, I considered him little more than a glorified science bureaucrat. It was possible that he still was, but at least he had the conviction to personally see things through. He had led the team that fetched me from the planet and took me to the second landing pod. Just because he was using a remote exo-robot in no way diminished the achievement. I’ll always appreciate the first word he said upon meeting me down there. It was something my first captain would have used.

* * *

“I won’t charge you for stupidity, Cadet.” The massive robotic exo said in Major Tanner's voice. “But you’re a total idiot.”

Lying on the ground, I couldn’t even laugh. Prometheus had said the second landing party would reach me in forty minutes. It had taken them almost two hours. Apparently, some, new glitch had caused them to land closer to site Alpha-Delta-One, delaying their arrival by a bit. By my calculations, I had oxygen to spare, yet just in case, I chose to lie in the robo-rover’s shadow and conserve as much as possible.

“Always happy to oblige, Major,” I whispered. “I didn’t manage to get all the samples. They should be still in the area.”

“I know.” The exo took an oxygen tank out of a storage compartment and proceeded to attach it to my suit. I almost felt being pampered. Not in a hundred years did I think there’d ever be a time when a human would do that to me. Back in the day, that was my job. “Prometheus also got your stupid letters.”

“I guess you ruined the surprise.” Slowly, I stood up. My suit felt nearly as before, only this time, the oxygen warning had disappeared from my visor. “Is everyone on board alright?”

“You’ll go through that during the debriefing. Right now, I want you to tell me what happened.”

“As mentioned, my preliminary report is that we have confirmed third contact.” While waiting, I had discussed the issue with Prometheus at length and the both of us agreed the chances of the artifact occurring naturally were virtually zero. “I suspect the artifacts might be a side effect of something bigger. It looks like they stimulated the growth of the quartz crystals around them.”

“And you’re basing this on two sites?” The Major’s exo turned towards the remains of the crystal cluster. Several other members of the team were already in the process of gathering quarts fragments. “And that led you to destroy one of them?”

“Under the circumstances, I calculated that was the optimal outcome,” I replied.

Now you see why we don’t get along with battleships, Prometheus transmitted. Good thing you didn’t have any real weapons.

I would disagree, but for the moment I remained silent.

“After you lost communication with Prometheus, did you experience anything out of the ordinary?” The major asked.

“Such as nausea, headaches, and the like?” I tilted my head. My spacesuit helmet tilted more.

“Any power loss, core malfunctions, memory issues?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” I quickly initiated a full memory check. This wasn’t a line of questioning I expected. “Is there anything I should be made aware of, sir?”

“That’s a matter for the debriefing.” He brushed the question off. “I’m just assessing the situation. Is that clear, Cadet?”

So it was that game. Official unofficiality. I’d played that game more times than I’d had crew. Technically, non-situational assessment was reserved only for life-threatening and time-sensitive cases, yet fleet command allowed a certain degree of leniency.

“Apart from the communications failure, there was nothing else to report, sir.” I paused. “Other than the way the crystal reacted during artifact extraction.”

“I see.” If the exo could frown, it would have. “No malfunctions to your suit?”

So that was the angle of questioning? At this point, I couldn’t tell if the issue was the event or if I was being pinned as incompetent. Knowing my last experience, it could very well be the latter.

“Nothing more than usual, sir.” I glanced at the robo-rover. “Considering the age of the equipment in question.”

“And you went on to interact with only one artifact, is that correct?” He moved to the next question.

“Not at all, sir.” Nice try. “I did a non-contact analyses of the artifact at Alpha-Delta-Three, followed by an extraction of the present one a day later. It’s all in my suit report logs. I’ve already transmitted them to Prometheus, along with all available readings.” Including my personal account of events.

“Are you sure about this?” The exo towered above me, like a crow above an ant.

“I’m ninety-nine point nine percent confident, sir.” I looked up at the exo’s head camera.

“Alright, that’s all.” He made a sigh to the rest of the team. “You are to accompany me to the second landing pod. From there we’ll launch you back to Prometheus.”

“Understood, sir.” I hoped he didn’t mean literally. “And the artifact?”

“You have done enough for one day, Elcy,” the major’s exo said. It was difficult to tell if he meant that as an insult or a compliment. “For the moment, your only tasks are to get back on board, go through decontamination, and prepare for debriefing.”

“Right you are, sir.” I gave a salute. The space suit wasn’t very cooperative.

“And this time, try to keep in contact with Prometheus.” I could almost hear a sigh. “You’ve caused enough panic for one mission.”

“I’ll try to accommodate, sir.”

Well, Sev, it’s almost like that time I was called into the principal's office during your last year of school. The only difference this time is that I’ve no idea what the outcome will be.