Sheep going to the slaughter. Back when I was a ship, I’d hear thousands utter that phrase. It was never the ones going to battle, but rather those returning that would use it. After every significant event, soldiers were required to go through a one on one debriefing with their superiors. I knew the significance of the process, even if I saw it as a waste of time. The outcome was always known in advance, with one side having the option to accept it and move on or appeal and accept it later. As I stood in front of Major Tanner’s quarters, I had the same feelings as I did during my appeal. I already knew that our conversation would be brief, to the point, and that the outcome was already clear. The only thing I didn’t know was what the question would be.

It’s unlike a battleship to hesitate for so long, Prometheus said. Weren’t you supposed to be fearless?

“Yes.” I slid my hand over the bell sensor. “I was.”

The door opened almost immediately. I straightened my clothes, then walked in.

“Sit,” the major said, in typical fashion, although I detected a hint of softness. He was in casual clothes, pale and visibly underslept. Even the cocktail of nanites and chemicals were barely keeping him awake. “This won't take long.”

“Yes, sir.” I gave a salute. The major replied with a brief nod, allowing to take my seat. “I assume everything said here is unofficial?”

“So, let’s get started.” The man ignored my question. “You have already given your statements and report to Prometheus, I am told.”

“Yes, sir.” The seat felt remarkably uncomfortable, as if it were made of a solid block of carbon. “Memories as well.”

“I’m sure you’ll go through that during your standard debriefing. That’s not why you are here.” Now we were getting to the serious part of the conversation. The major typed something into his datapad, then handed it to me. “This is based on Prometheus’ latest data analyses.”

I took the device and turned it around. It took me a second to recognize the map of Planet V’s surface, complete with terrain and mineral data. As I zoomed in, a vast amount of artifact locations became visible, significantly more than when I had left for the planet.

“New artifacts have been found,” I said, scrolling to site Alpha-Delta-Three. “If my theory is correct, I expect a more detailed scan to reveal thousands more.”

“It’s possible.” The major leaned forward. “According to Prometheus, it’s even likely. Yet we’ll never find out.”

“Sir?” I looked up.

“The map there is a simulation based on the initial probing data. With the exception of the two sites you visited, all the rest are a glorified guess on Prometheus’ part.” Major Tanner leaned back in his chair. “As of now, there is no first-hand confirmation of any of that. Just theories, and as of yesterday, theories are not seen as reliable.”

What’s going on? I asked Prometheus. In space, ninety-nine-point-nine percent of everything was based on simulations. No one sent a human to confirm every single finding before having us proceed. Even in uncharted territory, my readings were considered accurate enough to be taken for real, every ship’s were. Why were the readings suddenly considered unreliable?

“Based on your and Prometheus’ request, most probes were sent to perform a detailed scan of your landing site,” the major went on. “Myself and the captain ordered a few to go to other perspective landing sites and do the same. The idea was to have a detailed survey of all areas we wished to explore in the next hundred and twenty hours. Two landing pods were launched full of exos, and three more were being prepped. Based on the priority orders from command, we were to explore five sites per cycle and provide regular reports. According to Prometheus’ estimates we were on schedule too, when suddenly...” The man slapped on the desk with his hand. Part of me wanted to call it theatrics, but his behavior and facial expression told another story. “Two pods and seventeen probes lost, just like that. All communication channels to the planet severed. The pods burned up upon entry. Of the probes, only two were retrieved, both dead as a brick.”

Dead as a brick. That wasn’t an expression I often heard. Even back in my day, function-safety protocols were considered the field of second highest priority in human space. Having massive fleets driven by sapient-intelligence level was a monumental achievement, yet it would mean nothing if they could be disrupted. Even in my current biological form, safeguards were put in place to ensure that I’d be able to function after anything but a quasar blast. And still, something had managed to knock out a number of probes, while jamming all communications.

I see how things are. I hadn’t been called here to be prosecuted, I was here because my core safeguards had withstood the communication attack. As of now, I was the only and most reliable witness to the events that had transpired.

“Was there a point of origin?” I asked, looking at the map once more.

“All data is conflicting. Each individual probe claimed that the event originated at their own location, based on their internal timestamps.”

There’s a nice paradox for you, Sev. I thought. If everyone in a room claims they spoke before everyone else, could all of them have spoken at the same time? Logic suggested that it was impossible. For Prometheus to claim it, there had to be a valid reason. That wasn’t the most disturbing part. From what I could tell, the phenomenon had started shortly after I had arrived at the artifact, which very likely meant that I had triggered it.

“What did you do when you got to the crystal, Elcy?” Major Tanner asked. This was the first time he had addressed me by name. It made me feel uncertain.

“I conducted a non-contact analysis of the symbol,” I said, straight to the point. “It allowed me to determine the composition of the artifact... and most likely caused the communications disruption.”

“And yet you weren’t affected.” I could hear the implication as loud as if he had yelled it. My reckless behavior had resulted in material loss and threatened the safety of Prometheus and everyone on board.

The major looked me in the eye, then stood up and went to the food dispenser. I watched him take a glass of water and empty it in one gulp. I wasn’t offered one. Nice to know that we both knew what the situation was.

“However.” He returned to his seat. “It also appears that you were responsible for restoring communications the following day,” the major added.

“Sir?” That was a pleasant surprise.

“We cannot be certain, as we can’t say for sure that you caused the initial incident, but based on your personal timestamps and the information we have, your extraction of the artifact allowed us to reestablish contact. The captain has decided that you won’t be court martialed.”

“I am much in your debt, s—”

“And you won’t say a word about it during your official debriefing,” he interrupted. “As far as we could tell, you went down there, started collecting soil samples, then after communications were disrupted proceeded to analyze the artifact as was the original plan.” He waved his finger at me during every word he spoke. “Following that, you did what you needed to survive and only extracted the artifact after receiving instructions from Prometheus.”

“Absolutely, sir.” Well, Sev, this is the first time I’m part of a coverup. Usually, only my captains bothered. I would get certain memories blocked or removed, then continue with business as usual. “Should I report to sickbay for memory removal?”

“Not yet.” The major yawned. “Until the end of the mission your memories will be intact. You will, under no circumstances, share what happened with anyone, unless specifically ordered by a senior officer plus the captain and myself.”

“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“Since when did you give a damn about anyone’s permission?” He grumbled, then made a gesture with his hand for me to get on with it.

“Why the charade? As a ship, I remain fleet property. Having my memories removed would only be seen as the appropriate course of action.”

“Are you clueless?” the man shouted. “There’s a real chance that the artifacts can rip our communication networks to shreds! Not just inter-stellar communications, but short range, maybe even ship-wide communications! Three different bodies oversee memory extraction. What do you think will happen if any of this got out? This information has such a high security level that if I’m to follow the letter of the law, I must shoot you in the head, then myself!”

Strictly speaking, he was correct. As were many things in the wondrous world of bureaucracy, that was a perfectly legal interpretation of the rules. All parties who came into possession of top-level classified information, even by accident, were subject to immediate imprisonment, or execution during time of war. Since no ceasefire was in effect, we were still technically at war against two alien enemies. What was more, the rule didn’t distinguish between discovering information and coming into possession of it by accident. Whoever had written it couldn’t have possibly imagined there would be in instance of a third-contact artifact containing secrets that humanity had been guarding for centuries.

“What happened with the mission?” I returned the major’s datapad on the table.

“I have no idea.” Major Tanner rubbed his eyes. “The captain has requested a call with a level three arbiter. I expect he’ll get it in a few hours.” Based on the high priority of this mission, I speculated he was already in the call. “Until then, we analyze the data and wait.”

“Yes, sir.” I stood up. “Permission to return to duty?”

“Get out of here,” the major growled.

I gave a salute and left the room. Everything considered, I had to admit it had gone rather well. Down on the planet, I had acted like a snotty know-it-all, and it had come to bite me in the ass, almost costing me six months of memories and my future career. I had relied so much on my battleship experience that I had viewed everyone as children, that I hadn’t seriously considered the possibility that I might be as inexperienced as my body suggested.

My official debriefing took place fifty-seven minutes later. I was called to the bridge, where the captain proceeded to analyze every moment of my stay on the planet in the presence of his senior staff and several representatives from fleet command, who conveniently remained anonymous during the entire process. I answered every question, omitting the details I was told to omit. For the most part it didn’t even seem to matter. The observers seemed more interested in the planet itself and the third-contact confirmation than the communication breakdown. If I hadn’t mentioned in it my report twice, I would have almost suspected that Prometheus hadn’t even told them.

The debriefing ended precisely fifteen minutes after it began, with the captain giving me a day off to rest. Habit almost made me note that as a ship I didn’t need so much rest—or any for that matter—yet recent events suggested that remaining quiet might be the better course of action. Offering a quick salute, I left the bridge, heading back to my quarters.

They won’t stop the mission, Prometheus said as I entered the elevator. There are too many questions.

I smiled. This was the ship’s way of showing support. It wasn’t the talks Gibraltar used to have with me after I messed up in battle, but it was something. At least I knew that someone cared enough for me to go on, even if it was yet another ship.

Get some downtime. Once they get this sorted out, and I finish making your new suit, you’ll be back down there doing triple shift.

“I’m sure.” I leaned against the elevator wall. “When it rains, it pours. Tell me, what happened to the artifact I took? Is it onboard?”

Quarantined until further notice, Prometheus replied. I wouldn’t worry about it, though. It would take a shuttle-load of permissions to touch it. The thing has already been requisitioned.

“Requisitioned?” I didn’t like the sound of that. “Who by?”

BICEFI.