When I was a ship, it wasn't uncommon for me to be visited by people of importance. For me, such events were more pompous than anything, serving no practical purpose. That hadn't kept my crew and staff from scrambling to prepare for the visit, often going so far as to have me place a layer of nanites all over the rooms and corridors the top brass would pass.

Arriving on Leoforge Station was the first time I got a taste of what it was like to be a VIP. While Prometheus was still going through docking procedures, a shuttle arrived to pick the XO, the doctor, and myself for direct transport to the station. We didn't go through security or even quarantine, instead reaching a high security platform. From there, one of the four pilots present—a captain judging by his insignia—escorted us though the outer section of the station and up to a heavily guarded double blast door. I could only assume this was the entrance to one of the station research labs; if Prometheus had granted me access to the station's layout schematics, I would have known for certain.

“Just a moment, sir,” one of the guards said, tapping something into his datapad. The remaining soldiers stayed put as they were, silently watching us, weapons at the ready.

Any idea why they'd have heavy scramblers? I asked Prometheus.

The weapon was the FSR-40, a favourite among ground troops. According to its stats, it had the strength to drill through a two meter wall of concrete and scramble the insides of everyone behind it. That's where the nickname came from. Their existence was highly restricted off-planet, and strictly forbidden on Scuu fleet ships. Personally, I didn't like having them aboard when I was active.

As a corporate entity, they aren't subject to fleet standards, Prometheus replied, conveying that he didn't approve of the practice either. Try not to annoy them too much.

Got you.

“This way, please.” Someone that appeared to be the lead guard gestured for us to proceed. The door behind him melted away, creating an opening. A bright yellow line appeared on the floor, directing us forward. “Do not deviate from the indicated path.”

“Anything else?” the XO asked in typical fashion.

“Nothing, sir.” The guard stepped aside. I could see nanites covering his black uniform. Either nano had gone through a series of breakthroughs, or someone had gone through a lot of expenses to make this section of the station invulnerable, far more than any lab usually was. “Please continue to the garden.”

The XO gave the guard a displeased look, then continued into the corridor. Doctor Sim and I followed him. Several steps later, the entrance closed up behind us, shifting into a dead-end wall. Half the fleet would have huge benefits having such tech. Hopefully, the new generation of ships had it.

The walk didn't take long. After half a minute, we arrived at our destination. When the guard had mentioned “garden,” I had assumed he was being metaphorical. Right now, I was glad to be wrong. Fields of grass extended into the distance, broken up by small clusters of trees. The whole air smelled of freshness and vegetation, reminding me of the time I was on a planet. For a whole second, I felt the urge to take off my shoes and walk over through the field. The presence of the XO held my desire in check.

“Someone wasted a lot of money,” the XO said, as the doctor bent down and took a blade of grass. “Prometheus, how large is this?”

There was no reply. Likely all external communications from the area were blocked. By my personal estimates, the area was eight hectares, surrounded by a metal dome. Sun simulation lights shone from above, giving the impression that we were on a planet garden at noon. The only thing missing was a light breeze for it to be completely believable.

“Almost natural,” Sim said, putting the blade of grass in his pocket. “At least our host has a good sense of humor.”

“Why do you say that?” The XO narrowed his eyes.

Instead of an answer, the doctor pointed at the patch of grass in front of our feet. Part of it had turned yellow, creating a line that went through the field. None of the technology itself was new, but I had never seen it squandered in such fashion. If Augustus were here, he'd probably be out of his mind.

The soil felt nice as we walked, unmistakably softer than the real thing, though stopping short from giving the illusion we were walking through mud. We passed through a small cluster of trees, past a large moss-covered rock of white marble, up to a silvery-grey building located next to a small lake. Cass would have loved it here. A pity I didn't have the means to give her such accommodations during her final years.

As we approached the building, the yellow grass reverted to green. Moments later, the woman who I'd seen in the communication link emerged from inside. She was wearing golden-red this time, her dress stopping at her knees. Everything about her screamed high-level corporate.

“Finally,” she said in the form of a greeting. “Let's keep this short, I have a full schedule today.”

The XO looked at the doctor, then back at her. I could hear the unspoken “Lady, you brought us here.”

“Understood, ma'am.” He kept it professional. “How may we be of assistance?”

“For starters I want you to vet and evaluate your present crew. There can be no mistakes on this one. I want everything checked and rechecked in seventy-two hours before we leave. You,” she pointed at me. “Go get a full medical.”

“That will be difficult, Ma'am.” The XO didn't miss a beat. “Some of the crew are going through their rotation. It will take a while for the new replacements to arrive on board.”

“I've already spoken with the sector head of Fleet Personnel.” The woman crossed her arms. “He has assured me he'll handle vetting and med checks on his part and ensure transport. You just deal with your own.”

Part of me wanted to smirk. It was as if I were looking at a younger, female version of Augustus. If she were to light a cigar, the image would be complete. The XO didn't appreciate my sentiments. At his rank, he had been through a number of similar situations and was probably used to be talked down by civilians with deep connections. He clearly didn't like it, though.

“We shall do our best,” he said. “Anything else?”

“Not enough for you?” the woman scoffed, narrowing her eyes and making the doctor let out a stifled laugh.

“It might help if we knew some details about this mission we're supposed to take,” the XO said with a deliberate sigh. “Command said you have the details.”

“Which you'll get in due time. For the moment, make sure everyone is vetted, healthy, and psychologically sane. That is all.” The woman glanced at her watch. With all the technology at her disposal, it was obviously for show. I wouldn't be surprised if it cost a fortune by human standards. Knowing the cost for my own production, I was more impressed by her attitude. She excelled in making people feel insignificant.

“I'm not giving the go-ahead to a mission I know nothing about!” The XO raised his voice. “If you have a problem with that, take it up it with command.”

“You will.” The edge in her voice was sharp enough to cut through steel. “After your latest disaster, you'll do any mission you are told. I've been given full authority in the matter, is that clear?”

There was a moment of silence. It was like watching a cluster of cruisers coming to the realisation that they were facing a battleship. For the most part, the woman behaved exactly like a top-tier corporate executive would, yet she had made a few slips, showing she was more familiar with military procedures than she was supposed to. Back when I was a ship, I had seen civilians pick up military behavior after being exposed to them for a long while, yet certain habits could only be formed living through actual combat; despite trying to display the opposite, the woman in front of us had.

“You're BICEFI.” I broke the silence. “Aren't you?”

Priority one plus alpha fleet communication protocols. Commencing memory.

* * *

“Shuttle has docked, captain,” I announced. “How do you wish for me to proceed?”

Never before had I experienced a visit from the BICEFI. If the rumors were any indication, any interaction with them was considered a bad thing. According to Aurie's gossip, ships lost their memories after talking to them, sometimes ending up in other parts of the fleet. That much I knew to be false, but it was also a known fact that common ships weren't supposed to have dealings with anyone from Fleet Intelligence.

“Let them board,” Augustus said from his command chair. “And clear a corridor directly to here.”

“Yes, captain.”

Normally it would be against regulations to allow outsiders on the bridge without approval from fleet command, but with everything else going on, it had become hard to keep track of all the rule breaking.

“You've got no claim, Augustus,” the bald Salvage Operative said. He was one of the three people remaining on the bridge, after my captain had ordered everyone out. From what I could tell, he was of senior rank, possibly the equivalent of battleship captain. “Ship remains belong to us.”

“Save it for a rookie.” The captain lit up a cigar. I still didn't approve of this habit.

“What's there is ours.” The baldy didn't give up.

“Others have made the claim,” Augustus said, the cigar in the corner of his mouth. “They were first.”

The BICEFI shuttle door opened. I had directed it to a hangar far from the quarantine zone, but just for good measure ran a quick bios scan as the passenger got out. The moment I did, a wall of rejection messages blocked my subroutines. The person had a high enough clearance to stop any info delving. Similar to the Salvage authorities, he didn't exist, or rather he blocked all my attempts to determine his identity.

“Are you BICEFI?” I asked, streaming the question exclusively to his comm.

The man smiled, shaking his head. Looking at him, he seemed no more than twenty, more a cadet than soldier. His uniform was a shade darker than the standard ensign white, with no symbols or insignia. The only thing that stood out was a single black dot on the left part of his collar.

“Captain Augustus has instructed me to direct you to the bridge.” I instructed a security droid to him.

“I know the way.” He waved his hand.

For being Fleet Intelligence, it was rather likely he did. That didn't stop me from having the droid follow him. The trip was long and silent. Not once did the man ask a question or make a comment, walking along the corridors, as if he had been serving on me. At the same time, my captain and the Salvage agent had continued their discussion, becoming more and more heated by the minute. Observing them made me feel uncertain. If their rank were any less, I would have locked them in their quarters for behaviour unbecoming. Sadly, the captain had explicitly instructed me not to interfere. I was to solely observe and record.

“You wouldn't even have been there!” Augustus roared. “I found her! I told you as a courtesy.”

“So we'll owe you one.” The bald man was decidedly more calm, only raising his voice at chosen instances. Observing his behavior, it was as if he was following a pre-set pattern. ”Stranded ships don't belong to you or anyone else.”

“Save it for the arbiter!”

“Call one.” The person from Salvage crossed his arms. “Or call fleet HQ. They have already backed our claim.”

Two new ships emerged in the system, increasing the total to seven. At this point, I wasn't even clear who had authority in the matter. Standard fleet regulations stated that local Salvage Authorities had priority when dealing with dead ships. Augustus himself had agreed with that. Simultaneously, since I was dealing with a yet unknown outbreak, the Medical Core was suppose to step in. For the moment, they had chosen not to, although had informed me they would be monitoring the situation. And then there was the BICEFI, which had complete control over all matters relating to the war effort. Captain Augustus couldn't have come up with a more complicated situation if he had tried.

“The BICEFI envoy has arrived, sir,” I informed the bridge. Augustus and the Salvage operative stared at each other, after which the captain waved a hand. Moments later, I opened the blast doors letting the newcomer step in.

“Alexander.” The bald man nodded. If Aurie were here, she'd probably fill the communication stream with jokes about the man who didn't exist meeting the one that couldn't be acknowledged. And in her own silly way, she would be right. I tried to cross check the name Alexander with the official Fleet Intelligence database, but my searches were immediately blocked. “We won't be giving up the Sobre this time.”

“No one is talking about giving up the Sobre.” Alexander went to the nearest seat and sat down. “You can have the husk.”

Augustus let out a snort, then took a puff from his cigar.

“Do you want to start a war over this?” The bald man didn't seem amused. “The ship is ours, you can have whatever's on board. Or we get fleet HQ involved.”

“They are involved,” Alexander said calmly. “And have cleared us to collect the artefacts and our own. You get the husk and, against my better judgement, information access. Other than that, we can wait for an Arbiter.”

“You're starting to become arrogant, Alexander.” The Salvage operator shook his head. “Does the Sobre mean so much you want to get us pissed? You know there will be a response.”

“I know,” the BICEFI replied calmly. “This one goes higher. It's not me and Augustus you're dealing with. Escalate it if you want, but I have my instructions.”

“Nothing to say, Augustus?” The bald man turned to him. “Aren't you tired of being the loyal BICEFI hound?”

“Tired of dealing with idiots like you,” Augustus barked back. “I'm looking at the big picture. After this is over, you two will fly to your cushy bases, I'll keep on fighting on the front.”

“You can always rely on our support.” A slight frown appeared on Alexander's face.

“Support.” The captain snorted again, smoke coming out of his mouth and nostrils. “Your support is like an umbrella. You hand it to me in clear skies and snatch it away the moment it starts to rain. If Salvage wasn't here, you wouldn't be either!” He took a puff then looked at the end of his cigar, almost with adoration. “I'm going to have a drink. You two—” He pointed at each in turn. “—come to an agreement!” He threw the cigar on the floor, then extinguished it with his shoe. I was tempted to log in another complaint, but in light of the situation didn't. “Rookie, info quarantine the bridge,” he ordered. “No monitoring until I get back!”

“Order confirmed,” I replied, isolating the corresponding subroutines. For the first time in my existence, I wouldn't have access to part of me.

Memory restriction imposed.

* * *

“Yes.” The woman's lips curved in a faint smile. “And I shall be overseeing the execution of this mission first-hand.”

Now it's in the open. Everyone present had suspected it, yet the hint of uncertainty kept them from behaving as they would if they knew for certain. The XO straightened up, while the doctor leaned slightly forward, looking at the woman as if she were a rare specimen.

“Any other questions?” A note of harshness was added, making the doctor quickly step back.

“How are we to address you, ma'am?” The XO asked. He hadn't lost his composure completely. Augustus would probably liked him, though he'd never have him as a full-fledged officer. One of these days, I was going to have Rad go through his service record and tell me the highlights.

“Lux.” The reply was swift. “Miz. Now if there isn't anything else, I have a very busy schedule,” she said, ensuring no one had a chance to ask. That was a pity, since I had a question of my own. “Let me know when you have vetted everyone. I expect the first report by tomorrow morning.”

No goodbye followed. Lux turned around without bothering to dismiss us, walking into the building, as if she owned both our ship and the station. After the conversation we'd had, I didn't doubt both to be true. She wasn't as relaxed and welcome as the few BICEFI representatives I had seen in person, but the sensation of lingering power was evident. One look at the XO and Doctor Sim told me I wasn't the only one of the opinion.

We didn't say a word as we left the garden. I had offered to lead us to the exit; before I could, the grass had shifted colour, forming a line of red blades that started from our feet. As far as hints went, the BICEFI was as bad as child before their birthday.

“That went well,” the doctor broke the silence, a few hundred steps from the exit. “Couldn't have gone much worse, considering.”

“Give it time,” the XO grumbled. We had yet to learn any actual specifics regarding our mission.

“I always admired your optimism, you know,” Sim mocked, though not to the extent to be tagged as annoying. “I guess we’d better head to quarantine. I might be able to grab some of the results to save time. I don't see how I'll go through those that remain on board.”

“Have Prometheus help.” The XO gave me a long glance. “Pass your medical,” he said with a mixture of annoyance and uncertainty. “Then find our new cadet and report back.”

“Yes, sir.” The order was clearly flawed. If the cadet was on the station, they and anyone else would likely be waiting at the dock for the ship to complete its quarantine procedures. The XO clearly wanted to get rid of me, and I, for one, didn't mind. After all, there always was the chance that there were other gardens I could spend some time in.

The moment we left the garden dome, I gave my XO the obligatory salute, then rushed forward along the maze of corridors. Before long, the corridors ended, revealing large sections of people and open space. If I were to forget where I was located, I could easily imagine being in a colony dome. Security guards were replaced by sparse crowds of people, most in casual clothes, moving between patches of vegetation, discussing everything from the sports to the stock market. I overheard a few people in fleet uniforms have a conversation about shifts and future plans, but even those were had a heavy civilian slant to them. Back when I was at the front, eighty-seven percent of all crew conversations had to do with the war, stories from home being a distant second. Here, neither seemed to be the case.

“Prometheus, plot me a path to the med facility,” I said, taking out my datapad. “And give me all info on the new—”

“Elcy?” a male voice said behind me, one I was distinctly familiar with. Out of habit, I tried to connect to any of the station’s data streams, but my authentication protocols hadn't been updated.

“Hello, Jax.” I turned around. “You look well.”