There were no words to describe the sensation of flying through space. If I didn’t have a human body, I wouldn’t even try. The closest thing I could think of was a pleasant breeze before a storm. Looking at the wall, I could imagine atomic particles brushing over Prometheus’ nano shielding like drizzling rain. The star system we were heading towards was barely visible, just a pinprick among millions of stars, but even from this distance I knew that he could feel it, just as I had at the time. I also knew I’d never be able to share the experience ever again.

Get ready for the briefing. A message flashed on my datapad. This had become my only means of communication with the crew in the last few days. With the upcoming mission, the command staff had become beyond reach, and Elec was too busy to see me in person. The only person I could freely go and talk with was the ship’s medical officer, whom, ironically, I did my best to avoid.

“Is the mission debriefing at the bridge?” I asked, putting on my socks.

“Yes,” Prometheus replied. “You better hurry. The captain doesn’t like wasting time.”

People rarely did, unless it was them who wasted it. Some of Cass’ crew—back when she still had a crew—were the epitome of that. They would remain in their quarters all day doing nothing, grumbling each time something disrupted their routine. Things had gotten so annoying that one day I had run a full emergency drill, in accordance with military protocols. The reaction times were catastrophic, not to mention that a tenth of tech crew had broken down in tears. A further hint on my part that drills could become part of the routine until we pick up the number,s and half the crew requested a transfer. Thinking about it, that had been a win for all of us.

Putting on my shoes, I rushed out of my room towards the nearest elevator. A few techs and security guards ignored me as I ran past. My frequent trips to the canteen had gotten most of them used to me to the point that I had become as invisible as any cadet.

The elevator was waiting for me when I reached it. The moment I stepped in, it went to the bridge deck without waiting for instructions.

“Thanks.” I looked at my reflection in the wall. My hair had grown about a centimeter since I rejoined the fleet. Sadly, my height hadn’t changed at all. “Anything you can tell me about the mission?”

No response. I had no doubt he was familiar with all of the details. The first few years, I too had been a stickler for rules, but Augustus had quickly knocked those notions out of my cores. Unlike everyone else I’d met, he had a legendary dislike of uselessness. Personally, I didn’t see the point of being kept in the dark for a week until the captain decided to officially share the details in front of the rest of the officers. Then again, with my current record, I could only smile and wait.

“What do you think of Radiance?” I changed the subject. “She seems closer to your generation.”

“Not that close.” There was a barely noticeable note of disdain.

“Any idea what ship she is?” The elevator stopped, but the door didn’t open. You don’t know, do you?

“She’s not a science ship,” Prometheus replied.

That was interesting. After my conversation with her, I knew she wasn’t a battleship either. That would mean she was either a hybrid or a whole new classification.

The elevator doors opened. “Hurry up,” Prometheus urged. “The captain is waiting.”

I hated when someone ended a conversation that way. Most who did thought they were being clever. Not Prometheus, though. He was just answering in his typically subtle way. Gibraltar had been the same, yet when he did it, I knew things had become serious.

* * *

“All personnel accounted for and restricted to quarters,” I said as all my walls flickered with red lockdown messages. “External communications are blocked and weapons systems are offline.”

The last one and a half weeks hadn’t been my best. It had all started with an ambush eleven days ago. The recon data command had provided had turned out to be faulty, resulting in the loss of seven ships and half of my hull being blasted off. Aurie and Ursa had managed to avoid heavy damage and provide protection, so me and two more ships had enough time to perform suitable repairs before we could retreat to our rendezvous point. I had used all of my bots to reinforce the breaches, shedding off chunks of my outer hull to remove all foreign matter. It was standard procedure; all affected ships had done it. Yet somehow the Cassandrians had still managed to track us. Fifty-six hours and forty-nine minutes after our retreat, a second wave of attack had followed, devastating most of what had been left.

Twenty-three enemy ships had appeared, launching a full barrage of missiles at the core of our formation. Seven vessels had been instantly vaporized. Later I had learned that twice as many had executed forced shutdowns during escape. I had been one of the lucky ones to escape whole, lucky being a relative term.

“All non-essential personnel have been sedated,” I said as my subroutines released knockout gas in the respective quarters. A data burst of bio-readings swept over me, carefully monitoring and recording the state of every individual. Meanwhile, several thousand of my subroutines analyzed the data, searching for patterns or anomalies. “All is within expected parameters.”

“What about the officers?” Gibraltar mumbled from his desk. The captain was in pitiful shape, unwashed, unshaven, and exhausted, kept functioning by a constant cocktail of stimulants and nanites that I had a med bot inject in him. His jacket was on the floor, the rest of his uniform covering him in a semblance of authority. I had kept him awake for ten full days and the strain was showing.

“All on the bridge, except for Doctor Fiarra.” She had been one of the few high ranking casualties, along with one of her assistants. “Most haven’t slept either.”

“We’ll get to sleep once this is over.” Gibraltar yawned. “When are the boarding ships expected?”

“Three salvage ships have arrived. Still waiting for the rest.” After my last transmission, command had ordered that I stay at the specified coordinates and wait. Normally I would have expected a military frigate and someone from counterintelligence. Having ships from the salvage authority come was concerning.

“Good.” The captain leaned back. “They will be here soon. You archive everything that happened and make a hard copy for transfer.”

His heart rate and the pitch of his voice told me he was lying. The ambush and subsequent chase hadn’t been a coincidence. There had to be some new weapon at play... or a traitor. I had a hundred subroutines do an intensive search of my archive database. As far as records went, there hadn’t been a single case of betrayal on this battlefront. There were reports that the Scuu used technology that rendered ships and humans rogue, but no such instances had occurred here.

My subroutines analysed every millisecond of my behavior for the last month. From what I could tell, there were no anomalous commands, no restricted memory gaps, no dubious or modified logs. According to everything measurable, I was completely virus free, from my systems to the last atom of my physical structure. And still, the ambush had happened.

“There aren’t any other ships, are there?” I asked. The question made Gibraltar stir slightly. Fatigue made it impossible for him to hide his answer.

“Backup everything from the last three months.” The captain looked at the floor, eyes half closed. “We’ll talk when it’s done.”

* * *

We’ll talk when it’s done. That had been one of the few times that Gibraltar didn’t have faith in me, and the only one I thought would be my last. The salvage ships hadn’t shredded me, although they had come pretty close. My entire outer coating and fourteen of my lower decks had been completely dismantled and transported away. The reason given was “fear of foreign particles”. I hadn’t argued, instead remaining stationary for a full twenty days before being towed to a shipyard for full reconstruction. Gibraltar had remained with me every step of the way. Now, I could only hope that Prometheus would as well.

Straightening my shirt, I entered the bridge. Everyone was already there.

This is slightly awkward, I thought as all eyes turned my direction.

“Cadet Elcy, reporting as ordered.” I gave the obligatory salute, then when I got the nod from the captain, crept to the side. Elec was already there, deep in thought, as was Major Tanner. To my relief, Doctor Sim appeared to be missing.

“Now that we’re all here, Prometheus, if you will.” Captain Khal said. A large generated picture of a star system appeared on the bridge walls. Immediately, I saw the peculiarity—the system was composed entirely of stars. “This is the Tau-seven-beta-twenty-one,” the captain went on. “A octonary star system that we have been sent to observe and explore. Now, I know it’s not as groundbreaking as our previous mission—” the resentment was felt in full force “—but, let me remind everyone that this will be treated with the same level of professionalism as is mandated.” He paused a moment to take a breath. I could see that Elec wasn’t paying nearly as much attention as usual. “The mission is considered an open mission, so communication with others with fleet clearance is allowed. Just try not to abuse it, okay?”

I expected a few stifled laughs. To my surprise, there were none. Even after a week of travel, the bitterness of losing a third contact mission could still be felt.

“Carry on, Prometheus.” The captain moved his hands behind his back.

“The official name of the mission is Firefly and will consist of detailed spectral and gravitation analyses of each of the stars within the system.” The ship didn’t miss a beat. “As one of the two observed octonary star systems, and the only one in human space, it’s needless to say that this is a rather unique natural phenomenon, and as such, every aspect of the mission must proceed with extreme caution and precision.”

A system composed only of suns. I had watched half a dozen science fiction series based on the subject while Sev was growing up. The theme always included the involvement of aliens or other supernatural entities. At the time, the notion felt ridiculously amusing.

You used to believe those movies, didn’t you, Sev? We’d have long talks in which he’d try to convince me it might be possible, and I would destroy his enthusiasm with a century of facts. Today, I wasn’t as convinced.

“Cadet Elcy,” Prometheus addressed me. “You and Cadet Liao will assist senior research scientist Vexinion with near body observation. If at any point either of you notice an anomaly or anything you suspect to be of unknown origin, you are not to engage it in any way. Is that understood?”

I nodded. Elec didn’t bother to respond, but we both knew the message wasn’t addressed towards him.

“Good. You’re both dismissed,” Prometheus noted with a trace of satisfaction. “Report to lab seven D.”

I gave my best salute, then left the bridge. There was no doubt that by the hour I’d receive all mission specifics, detailing precisely what I was supposed to do and what not. One thing I could be certain of was that I’d likely be closer than anyone else on board. Back when I was active, I had gone close to many stars, which was why I knew the danger they posed to my systems and crew. Even in battle, approaching too closely was considered a risk, especially since the Cassandrians had the technology to remain functional while four times closer. From what I knew, there had been several programs in development working on reverse engineering the technology in order to negate their advantage. The lack of public announcements, however, led me believe that the problem hadn’t been cracked.

“Elcy?” Elec asked behind me. “Have a moment?”

“Sure.” I slowed down for him to catch up. “What’s up?”

“In a bit.” He joined me in the elevator. “Observation deck,” Elec instructed.

The entire ride passed in silence. Elec didn’t bother starting a conversation or looking at me, just stared blankly at the door until it opened. For several seconds he stood there, refusing to leave or go to a new deck. I turned towards him.

“This will be my final mission,” he finally said, avoiding eye contact.

“Your last mission on Prometheus?” I probed.

“My last cadet mission,” he sighed. “After we’re done taking pictures, I’ll be off to my academy station for final evaluation.” There was another pause. “I got the fleet transmission a while back.“

“Ah,” I nodded. I wasn’t sure why he was telling me. Finishing cadet training was supposed to be a positive thing. Based on his personnel file and personality I had expected he’d me more enthusiastic about it, and yet he looked remarkably somber. “Congratulations?”

“Yeah,” he let out a sad laugh. “After three years I finally get to make ensign.”

“But?” I wasn’t able to stop myself. To a certain degree, I knew people found it difficult to get to the point. I’d seen first hand how they’d come up with a whole lot of problems to postpone saying what they really wanted for as long as possible. Sev had been the same, as well as the majority of people that I had had onboard.

“You’ve been a battleship for a long time.” Elec raised his glance. “Can you tell me, how does one become ready?”

“Are they sending you to the front?”

“I’m not sure.” I could feel his uncertainty. “Maybe. Who knows?”

“And you’re afraid you won’t be ready?”

“Am I?” He raised his tone. “They drill our heads with all sorts of things in the academy. I’ve been through intensive training, SR, psych, even advanced combat. I knew there could be accidents, that people could die, I’ve seen people get killed when I was on a previous ship. After a few weeks, I’ll be the one making that decision that could make them die. How do I prepare for that?”

“You don’t.” The more I had these direct talks, the less I liked them. It was one thing telling someone the harsh reality of things when they were an organic speck of matter I didn’t even consider important. Saying it to the face of someone I’d worked with—even if for a short while—felt all that more personal. “You are or you aren’t. Most often people aren’t.”

“And there’s nothing I can do?”

“I’m not a shrink, Elec.” I avoided the question. “The only thing you can do is rely on people who are ready and hope to get lucky. Most people do.”

He stared at me, eyes full of disbelief. If I were to be honest, I gave him a three in ten chance of remaining in the service. To a large degree, it depended on the staff he ended up with. Maybe he’d do well on a patrol or transport ship, possibly even a science vessel. On the front, though, he’d probably last less than a month.

“Just don’t worry until it happens,” I suggested. “You’ll be happier that way.”

Elec didn’t react, as if his face had transformed into rubber.

“I’m really not the best person to talk about this.” I’m not even a complete person. “Maybe Doc Sim will—”

“It’s fine,” he cut me off. I could tell he was lying. “You helped a lot.”

No, I didn’t. I watched as the elevator door closed. But I plan to.