“Coordinates set, heading for Sunday,” I said, leaning back in the pilot's seat.

Prometheus had been nice enough to take my height into consideration when modifying the new observation shuttle, so now it actually felt comfortable. Another improvement was the enhanced exterior radiation shielding, allowing Elec and myself to spend more time in the heart of the system without getting completely fried. Even in such conditions, our time window was slim. Doctor Sim had explicitly warned both of us that he wouldn't be held responsible for anything should we spend more than forty-three minutes in orbit of the central sun. For a brief moment, it was as if his old eccentric personality shone through, before the cold grip of reality set in. The enhanced shielding and decreased exposure time meant we would be closer to the central sun than originally suspected, which made getting in touch with Euclid more difficult.

“Try not to to waste too many satellites,” the science ship said snidely—his way of giving me the go ahead. “And avoid too much exposure.”

After the conversation with the Salvage Authorities, the mission had been significantly shortened. My new instructions were to find a suitable location between the inner two suns and simultaneously launch two sats at each. Elec was monitoring and controlling the data, while I got back to the shuttle and prepared to thrust to a safe point and contact Prometheus. While I was doing this, two other teams would fly to two more suns and do the same. Provided all went according to plan, we were supposed to have readings of seven stars in the system within two days, leaving us a few more days to wrap up things. It was a solid plan, and quite reasonable at that. If war had told me something, though, it was that every plan was only good up to the start of the mission. Unfortunately, the same could be said for my plan as well.

Originally, we were supposed to deviate off course on our way to the system's center, passing by the Monday twins. Meanwhile, I was going to boost the transmission capability of a spare satellite and use it to find the spot where I had caught Euclid's transmission, then use the sats I had dropped behind to boost my signal even further. Based on a few dozen simulations, all this was going to extend our mission by an additional two hours.

“Any idea who your replacement is?” I asked Elec as the shuttle autopilot engaged.

“No.” The cadet stretched in his chair. “The transmission from HQ said that we only got one spot. The captain was mad.”

I can imagine that. Even in times of calm, people were a resource that captains squabbled over. Because of his rank and services, Augustus never had to deal with such problems. Gibraltar, on the other hand, had experienced everything in the book. Every three months, he and his staff would go through military database, evaluating people and sending out feelers who the other captains in our part of the fleet might pick. Weapons experts and medical personnel were the most sought after and usually gobbled up by the ship with the best service record. As an Ascendant class, I was in the middle of the pack, so my captain would get to pick from “the better leftovers.” I had no idea how important Prometheus was, though based on the fact that I was sent here, I'd say he wasn't in a much better position.

“Any names?” I turned towards Elec.

“A few. The Captain and the XO got together to discuss things. Everyone else was kicked out. Even the majors.”

That was interesting. I could imagine Major Tanner's expression when he was told he couldn't be part of the selection. Then again, he didn't seem like the man who would be particularly interested either. Mostly likely, he had quickly gone back to yell at someone.

“Prometheus, do you know anything about that?” I turned to the science ship. As expected, there was no response from Prometheus. “I guess I'll know in a week.”

“Yeah.” Elec's voice sounded pensive. “I'll go before that,” he added. The opacity of his helmet made it difficult to see his expression. Mostly likely, he had set it to maximum so I wouldn't know how he felt. “My promotion has been approved. I think command didn't want to risk me being part of another classified mission.”

I doubted that was the case. More likely an opening had to be filled up faster than expected. If humanity was arming up for a potential third conflict, a lot of spots would need filling.

“Congratulations, sir.” I gave him a salute. “Any idea where you'll go?”

“Cat Lion,” he said with a slight sigh. “A Zodiac support ship at the Scuu front.“

Zodiac? That was the same class Bull Calf was. Near the Scuu front, the ship would probably have a resupply and transport role. The choice of assignment suggested that command hadn't found Elec's skills of particular value. As harsh as it was, I regarded him in the same way: competent and dependable enough to be near a theatre of war, but not so remarkable as to be put in it. In all likelihood, he'd serve a long undistinguished career, marry, form a family, then retire in a rural colony somewhere.

“Don't worry, I doubt you'll see any action.” The Scuu weren't as aggressive as the Cassandrians. “You won't even notice them when you get promoted up.”

“Sure.” The response lacked any emotion. “I'll get some sleep. Wake me up when it's time.”

Elec turned in his seat, back to me. Moments later, a message appeared on my visor display informing he had disabled his comm. As most humans, he had chosen to face his problems alone. Part of me envied him. Whenever I had to face mine, I'd always drag others along.

The next five hours passed quickly. I spent part of the time analysing the third contact symbols, picturing three dimensional representations of each glyph in an attempt to approximate the missing ones. The task was more difficult than expected. Lacking millions of subroutines, I had to brute force at a far slower rate, while keeping an eye on the shuttle readings. Every now and again, I'd take magnified pictures of the suns of the system. Cass would have enjoyed being with me on this flight. If he hadn't had the fateful experience, Sev probably would have as well.

At one point, I made a casual request to open a channel with Rad to pass the time, and use her to assist with my orbital calculations. Prometheus wasn't impressed, refusing with the explanation that my mission had been reclassified as top secret. He did, however, agree to re-transmit my questions and provide me with a response afterwards. The entire process seemed as stupid as most I'd seen during my active service. Strangely enough, that made me smile. It seemed that little Prometheus was starting to grow up... or at least be more cynical. Since he was a science ship, it was difficult for me to tell.

On the sixth hour all, communication with Prometheus and the rest of my team broke down. Even at this distance, the radiation from the inner four suns, combined with the severity of the gravitational anomalies, was enough to interfere with the shuttle's systems. From here on till the end of the mission, I was to assume autonomous control.

“Elec,” I said, shaking his shoulder. “Elec.”

Seconds later, the notification of him restoring his comms popped up on my visor. It was obvious he hadn't managed to get much sleep, if any. I had seen soldiers and officers go through similar states before combat. They would close their eyes, replaying the possible futures in their minds, attempting to prepare themselves what was to come. The truth was that there was no preparing. When I was a ship, I had accepted that and gone with the flow.

“It'll be fine,” I patted him on the back of the suit. “Being an ensign is just like being a cadet. I'm sure your new ship will find you okay.”

“Assuming I don't get court-martial because of your crazy scene,” he said. I couldn't tell if it was a joke or if he was being serious. “You sure this will work?”

“It should.” I changed the shuttle's course. The navigation AI spewed a wave of warnings, all of which were ignored. ”Take over for a bit, I'll go set up the probes.”

Taking a final glance at the controls, I pushed myself out of the seat and floated my way to the cargo section. The navigation update Prometheus made weightlessness almost normal, even if there still were minor random tugs to the sides; it was completely different from our first flight.

“Any idea what happened to our shuttle pilot?” I asked, opening the sat case. The design had been modified to allow for a longer flight, and respectively, a marginally more powerful navigational core was used.

“No,” came the response. “Why?”

“Was just wondering.” I removed the safety panel and engaged the manual remote override, forcing the sats system to reach out to my suit communication feed. From there, I could issue commands directly. “I like to know what happens with people I see.” Or at least some of them. There were a whole lot of faces from the academy still in my memory that I had vastly ignored.

“Why do you think my next ship will find me okay?” the cadet suddenly asked.

“I have a sense for such things.” I boosted the transmission strength past the default maximum. Augustus had taught me that every device was built with a ten percent buffer beyond the scale maximum. I had only forced myself to experience that once, during my final battle with Gibraltar.

“How exactly? You haven't seen my full file.”

“I don't need your file.” I moved the case to the ground and opened the next one. “I can see your behavior.”

“And what's so special about that?” Elec kept on insisting.

I paused. There was only one universal reason that ensured a ship would be okay with a member of its crew. However, it wasn't something most people liked to hear. The question was did Elec need to?

“You're not someone who would do something stupid and get yourself harmed,” I said, as I finished my software modifications. “You're dependable.”

Whenever I used to tell Sev that, he either got upset or annoyed. Elec probably did as well just now, but unlike Sev, he was part of the fleet.

“Finished?” He glanced at me over his shoulder.

“Almost.” I moved to the third case. “One to go.”

With the mission being changed to get all the readings in one go, Major Tanner had gone all out, giving us a total of ten suicide sats. His official instructions were to bring as many as possible back to Prometheus, but everyone knew he wouldn't mind if a few were lost. The sats would have little use for anything outside the current mission, and, everything considered, the cost was negligible.

“Done.” I finished modifying the third and set it aside with the other two. “Now we just need to find the spot.”

Back when I was a ship, my second captain would say that finding anything in space was like finding a message in a bottle. Before I spent time on a planet, I never understood the metaphor. Only now was I able to appreciate it. What better way to describe an infinite endlessness in which even stars were specks of dust. The satellites I'd dropped in the hopes of being a beacon were less than bugs screaming in a valley. Even with approximate coordinates, finding them was a prolonged experience. With the time of the mission counting down, every minute wasted made Elec more and more nervous. He never said anything, hiding his unease under his spacesuit, yet every now and again an unexplained twitch would betray his thoughts. Precisely twenty-seven minutes after we had deviated course, a faint reading was caught by the shuttle. When the signal was identified as originating from the sats, the cadet relaxed with a sigh. Phase one of my plan was over.

“At least that's here,” he said, leaning back in his seat.

“Definitely. Think we should pick them up? The radiation readings aren't too bad here.”

“No,” Elec said firmly. “Someone else will.”

“Okay,” I said, even if I doubted it. “Taking manual control.”

The shuttle flew to the point where the satellites were drifting, then went on. Their signal continued to be registered loud and clear, until, in the background, the markings of a second one appeared. Now it was my turn to feel a speck of relief. I was close to finding what I came for.

“This is it,” I said, when the signal became clear enough for the shuttle to receive fragments. “I'll drop the trio. You keep an eye on things.”

“Five minutes,” the cadet said, concern in his voice. “Not one more.” He indicated with his hand. It was sweet and very convincing. Unfortunately, I had reacquainted myself with the new training files and knew exactly which leadership guide he was referencing.

“I'll do my best.” There was no point in breaking his illusion. “Mark it from the moment I get outside.”

A rush of excitement swept through me, as if I had activated my battle systems and was ready for a fight. It didn't matter that each of the sat cases was larger than me. In this instance, I viewed them as auxiliary systems I had been equipped with.

I put on my safety harness and checked the cable. Everything was in order as always; after the last mission, Prometheus had become even more pedantic when it came to component quality. Everything he was responsible for was built according to specs, checked and rechecked. Buckling up, I gave the sign for Elec to open the bay door.

Just like water skiing, Sev. I attached a cable to one of the ready sat cases and pushed it in space. Or surfing. The second and third followed. Seconds later, I set my visor opacity to ninety percent and followed. The rays of the twin suns hit me like radiation drizzle before a storm.

Five minutes, I thought, opening the nearest sat case. With the modifications I had performed, I didn't need to set up the entire sat. All that was needed was to link all signals to my suit and sync them properly. If my theory was correct, they would capture and boost the signal to me, while allowing me to broadcast back, assuming there was anyone to transmit to.

“Four minutes,” Elec transmitted from the shuttle. Apparently, he had started counting from the moment I had entered the cargo section.

“I'll do my best.” I gave the usual answer and continued syncing. In standard gravity, the job would have been done in forty seconds. Being in weightlessness, it took me fifty-one. “All set,” I told Elec and started listening.

According to everything taught at the academy, I was supposed only to listen and nothing more. Decades of military experience and routine, however, made me transmit my old ident code requesting to join a network. It was a trivial mistake. After all this time, communication protocols had been changed to that point that most subroutines would automatically reject the attempt. I didn't expect anything to happen. Seconds later, something did.

Hello, Light Seeker, a transmission came. The contact data packet identified the sender as a fleet ship. This is the Euclid. Come to take me home?

Priority one plus fleet communication protocols. Commencing memory.

* * *

There were twenty-four of them, all dressed in dark beige uniforms without insignias. As they walked off the shuttle, I attempted to do a database search base on their faces. All my attempts resulted in an abrupt denial and a message informing me I didn't have the required access clearance. Shortly after, I received a reminder that I was under full external information quarantine.

“Light Seeker,” the leader of the group said. He was a tall man in his thirties with large arms, broad shoulders and not a single hair on his face. “Where's your captain?”

“Captain Augustus is undergoing decontamination procedures,” I replied. I didn't like that he had done so despite the insistences from the Salvage Authorities that he meet them. At the same time I didn't like they had imposed themselves and disrupted my operations without any given reason. “I estimate he'll be available in three hours.”

None of the people seemed remotely surprised. Judging by their expressions they were expecting it.

“Where's the next in command?” the bald man asked.

“On my bridge.” I didn't know how to address him, so I decided not to. In my files, Salvage Authority operatives had their own complex hierarchy matching that of the fleet. They were also supposed to have visible insignia and ident tags. This group had neither. “Is this a classified operation?”

The lips of the man curved in a mocking smile. “Yes.” He looked directly at the nearest med bot. “Take me to whoever's in charge aboard the Sobre.”

“I can't do that. You have entered a quarantine area and I cannot allow you to proceed further without protective gear and direct authorisation from a medical officer.” I deliberately didn't tell them that any high ranking officer could grant them permission as well. Captain Augustus wasn't the only one who could play at that game.

“Cute.” The man walked anyway. “Tell Augustus he can join us when he's done playing.”

The rest of his group followed. A few minutes later, two more salvage shuttles docked to the Solar Breeze. This time, the occupants were in suits and full protective gear. Two groups of three were pushing lead-coated containers, large enough to hold a person. Leaving their shuttle, they stopped just outside of the quarantine zone and waited.

“What's the situation, rookie?” I heard Captain Augustus contact me directly through his emergency comm.

“Twenty-four Salvage Authority agents ignored the quarantine warnings and went to the engine section. Two more groups in suits and gear just docked and are waiting.” Logically, it was supposed to be the other way around. “One of the agents wished to speak to you, sir.”

“What is the group in the engine section doing?”

“I cannot say, sir. I have no visual feed in the area.” I made an attempt to check for nanites in the new group. My attempt was instantly denied. “I can send a group some med bots, sir.” There was no denying that some sentinel bots would have been far more suitable in the circumstances. Clearly, the captain had been in such situations before.

“No, send a priority call to the BICEFI,” he ordered. “And get this quarantine thing over with!”

“Sir?” There was so much wrong in that sentence I didn't know where to start. “I am forbidden from external communication,” I said, deciding to start with the obvious. “The only exception is if I am under attack and in need of crew rescue.”

“BICEFI communications are exempt.” His tone was more rushed than angry. “Tell them Salvage is trying to snatch the Sobre.”

“It's their prerogative, sir. Salvage has full authority over such matters.”

“No!” he snapped. “The core belongs to the fleet! And I'm not giving it up without a fight!”

Memory Restriction Imposed