Quote:

Hello Elcy,

Are they picking on you? You’re a bundle of trouble alright, but if anyone’s giving you shit, you tell me and I’ll sort them out. Those ungrateful fleet idiots can’t see value if you smack them in the face with it. Only good one is the recruitment officer. We’ve been chatting a few times every week. Nice kid, but a bit dim. He said you might be in trouble because he put you in for elite training without clearing the basics. Shows how much he knows.

So, what are you doing exactly? From your letters, you seem to be just flying about doing nothing all day long. At least here you did some actual good. I don’t know where you got Cassius from, but his cooking is terrible. I keep telling him how I want my dinner and he ignores me. And he keeps complaining that I change his name a lot. The thing is defective and has no idea what he’s talking about! When you get back here, you better do a full check of his systems or something!

The grandkids are crazy now that you’ve joined the fleet. Can’t stop asking questions about it. I invited them all to have a dinner together, but my stupid son came up with some excuse that he has work in the city. As if I’ve never worked and don’t know he can get a day off anytime he wants. At least the little ones came. They’ve grown to be as annoying as you. At least they behaved when they were here. Kept calling you Grandma Elcy (that’s a laugh).

This trouble you’re in, is it serious? They keep talking about ships disappearing or getting destroyed on the front every day. Cassius keeps insisting that the numbers are small, and that you’re nowhere near the front, but what does he know? It’s my job to worry about you! Not something either of you understand. Just remember to take care of yourself and don’t stick out. I don’t want you to get hurt doing stupid heroics like that time in the mine accident! Be quiet, smile a lot, and do whatever they tell you and nothing more!

I hope you make it for my birthday. Cassius says it’s too soon for you to get leave, but if you happen to manage, come home for a few days.

Sev

This was the first letter I’d been allowed to have from Sev. There was no way to know how many more there were or when they were sent. Fleet internal regulations made sure to remove all time relevant information, and even if they didn’t, planetary time meant little in space.

I closed the message and put the datapad on the shelf, next to my sandals. There was a time I’d think of wearing them every hour. Now they were little more than a distant memory.

“Any info when the message was sent?” I asked Prometheus.

It was redirected from command seventeen hours and fifty-two minutes ago, came the reply.

That had been only a few minutes after our arrival on Leoforge, yet there was no telling for how long the bureaucratic apparatus had kept it on hold. At least I knew that Sev was well.

“Thanks.” I felt bad for not having written in the last few days. Me having problems was no reason to stop sending letters. “I’ll spend some private time in the exercise hall. Tell me if you need me.”

Augustus used to treat every day as if it was his last, and Gibraltar used to try and enjoy every moment of peace regardless of the overall state of things. I had yet to come up with my own approach. I hoped the hour I’d spend exercising would help me get a better grasp of things. Instead, Jax arrived ten minutes in. He had changed his red uniform for the standard bluish variant, suitable for Prometheus. Every now and again, he’d attempt to start a conversation, only to drop the topic soon after. The situation was somewhat awkward, given his previous attitude. Thankfully, after half an hour, he was called to the bridge for the obligatory briefing. Eleven minutes later I was called as well, only it wasn’t the XO that had asked for me, but Ms Lux. The only delay I was given was a few minutes to take a quick shower before heading down. Back when I was a ship, I would constantly watch people rushing from one point to the next. I’d seen haste, confusion, chaos, desperation, and euphoria so many times I could tell them apart by the data transmitted from the crew’s nanites. It felt very different experiencing it from the other side. My second captain often said that certain things had to be experienced in order to become known. He was right.

By the time I arrived, the bridge was packed. Immediately, I recognised Operative Lux, looking at her clock impatiently among the officers and security personnel. All ships’ science heads, and a few others, were also present, engaged in small talk. Ally was also there, discussing something with Major Tanner, who for once seemed like he wouldn’t collapse due to sleep deprivation.

As I stood there, more and more people arrived on the bridge, filling it to the point that only senior officers could afford to sit. The conditions closely resembled descent on a ground troop shuttle. A few minutes later, Ms Lux glanced at the security personnel near the entrance. The lights began to dim.

“Your attention, please,” she said in her usual sharp tone, her voice amplified by Prometheus to fill the entire room. “As you all undoubtedly know, the Prometheus has been diverted from his original mission to perform something for Fleet Intelligence. Before I continue, I need not remind anyone that the information that you are about to hear is beyond sensitive, and discussing it in unapproved areas of the ship or people without the proper clearance could and will result in severe punishment.”

A few whispers sounded in various part of the bridge.

“Let me also stress that this mission is unlike any this ship has performed.” There was a subtle shift in tone. The harshness was starting to peel away, replaced by enthusiasm. “There is no question that challenges will be faced, but I want for you to view them, rather, as opportunities that could change our understanding of the universe.”

The image of a star system appeared on the bridge ceiling. As I looked up, the focus quickly shifted to a specific planet, zooming on its surface.

“This is planet Alpha-Three-Nineteen,” Lux went on. “As you can see, it’s an one-point-one life index planet, with conditions suitable for human life.”

The whispers turned into chatter. In the entire history of human space travel, there had been only fifty-seven fully developed inhabitable planets. The majority of inhabited planets had usually become so as a result of planned terraforming or rapid modification.

“And here lies your current mission.” Lux’s tone had become firm, almost triumphant. “As part of Operation Beehive, the science staff of the Prometheus has been selected to perform a full survey of specific areas throughout the planet’s surface and determine the degree of colonisation.” She paused to take a breath. “If the results prove within safety parameters, the planet will… well, I’m sure you know what will follow if that’s the case?” Lux added a corporate chuckle, which was instantly mimicked by a large part of the crowd. Looking around, people were beaming with excitement, eager to be part of the mission. None of them, not even Prometheus, knew how messy colonisation really was…

* * *

Platoons rushed into the hangar bay, filling in the shuttles before they had a chance to touch the floor. Hundreds of officers led their troops onboard in a perfect pattern of organised chaos.

Sending fourth wave, I said in the fleet channel. ETA forty-nine minutes.

Three waves of shuttles had gone before, transporting two-thirds of my land troops onto the planet. Optimally, two more would be needed to complete the deployment, provided the shuttles managed to withstand so many rapid re-entries. At such intensities, even a thin atmosphere was able to cause damage. Based on two hundred simulations, the first shuttles would start shutting down at the fifth wave. The next time the shuttles reached the surface, they wouldn’t be in any condition to leave.

Troops fully deployed, Aurie announced. She had been one of the early arrivals, starting the deployment a few hours ahead of me. As a result, she had also been brushed by Cassandrian fire, losing twelve decks in the process. Sending out shuttles if you need them.

Seven ships instantly made a request. If I were any closer, I would have as well. For the moment, I could only rely on my own.

“This is Colonel Enerdad,” a mass communication came from the planet. “I’m assuming command of sector delta-delta five and commencing purge advance.”

Two of my subroutines ran a search of the colonel. He wasn’t one of mine, although he had been on three colonisation tours before. According to the public part of his file, he had managed to distinguish himself enough to get fast-tracked from a captain to a colonel in less than a year. Based on the feeds I was receiving from the surface, it was unlikely he’d survive this campaign.

Bursts of death messages came through every second—squads, sometimes even full platoons, flatlining, only for reinforcements to take their place. The UADs had risen to the point that I had stopped informing Captain Gibraltar about it. The best I could do was use my minisats to provide assisting intel to the ground while constantly scanning for additional Cassandrian activity in the system.

“Wave four has started to land, Captain.” I provided a few selected visual feeds from the ground troop suits. “I estimate our sector will be purged in two hours.” I didn’t add that my simulations also predicted fifty-four percent of the troops dying in the process. “Cassandrian resistance is likely to increase afterwards.”

“Unless they get reinforcements,” the captain sighed. He never could get used to the notion of losing troops. To an extent, neither had I. In this aspect, planetary missions were the worst. The only minor comfort was that there was nothing I could have done to protect them.

“Command doubts more enemy reinforcements will arrive.” As I spoke, over a hundred people on the surface died to toxic gas explosion in one of the marsh areas they were traversing. “It’s only us and them.”

“All for the sake of a semi-organic lump of rock.”

Gibraltar’s disappointment could be felt clearly, but despite that, I didn’t share his sentiment. Life-bearing systems weren’t common. Discovering one so close to the front instantly made it a strategic target for both sides. Based on the intel command had shared, the surface planet was abundant in water and primitive plant forms, making it ideal for rapid terraforming. The only thing that remained was to purge it from enemy troops and hostile bioforms so that humanity could claim it as their own. As things currently stood, the enemy presence was on the retreat, providing fierce resistance. The local flora had also taken its toll, accounting for hundreds of thousands of dead. And then there were the BICEFI, meticulously observing from a safe distance.

The feeds of my ground troops continued streaming images of their surroundings. Seven thousand and thirteen were engaged in combat with the Cassandrian troops along with regiments from other ships. Approximately every twenty-three seconds, a death notification would occur despite the strategic advantage they held. From general transmissions, I could determine that the death rate was much higher in other areas of the planet.

“Three Cassandrian ships have left the system,” I announced on my bridge, while my subroutines sent warning messages to all ground troop helmets. If the enemy were abandoning the system, they would have instructed those left behind to engage in suicide tactics.

“Full alert,” Captain Gibraltar said. “Prepare to evade anything that approaches along an attack vector.”

“No pursuit?” The amount of damage was insignificant. “With the amount of armament remaining, I’m capable of inflicting considerable damage to fleeing ships. Simulations suggest we can take out seventeen if supported by other ships.”

“No pursuit,” Gibraltar said firmly. “That’s command’s worry now.” He took a long glance at the streams from below. The battle had started to turn in our favour, yet the fatalities continued to mount. “Any new orders from command?”

“No changes.” We had been ordered to oversee the ground efforts until the planet was ready for colonisation preparations. “Shall I request a new assignment?”

“No,” Gibraltar said. “We do as ordered.”

* * *

Do as ordered…

We had spent twenty-nine days in orbit to the planet. The Cassandrians had been wiped out after seven. A total of three enemy troopers had been captured, quickly taken by Fleet Intelligence operatives and flown off elsewhere. I and the remaining battleships had remained. By the end of the mission, nearly three-quarters of my ground crew were dead or injured. Gibraltar had put in a request for ten days rest. Instead, we had been ordered to a shipyard for a full refit. The following three months of my memories were void.

“Each of you shall be given individual mission orders,” Lux continued. “You are not to share or discuss the orders with anyone unless so specified. Let me make one thing clear, there are no ‘lesser’ orders in this mission. Command and Fleet Intelligence has put a great level of trust in your capabilities and it is my task to make sure that everything goes as planned.”

Now I knew she was lying. As Augustus used to say, “When things sound too good to be true, look out for secret orders.”

“If at all uncertain, you’re to address your executive officer for clarification,” the woman concluded. Interesting that it wasn’t the captain, as was the standard practice. “Thank you for your time.”

With a typical corporate closer, Ms Lux left the bridge. She was followed by a few scientists, who left in accordance to their seniority, then the XO with most of the security personnel, then the remaining staff. I waited for the crowd to thin a bit. I wasn’t in the mood of squeezing through packed corridors.

“Elcy, hold up!” I heard Jax. My junior cadet shoved his way up to me, in a fashion that would make lieutenants envious. “What do you think?”

“Too much to share,” I went through all my colonisation memories. The sight wasn’t pretty. “Hardly surprising, keeping in mind where it’s coming from.”

“Want to go for a walk?”

You were told something before I arrived, weren’t you? “Okay.” It was starting to feel too much like the academy. “Let’s go.”

We joined the crowd to the nearest elevators. Prometheus was doing his best to ensure that everyone was taken to their respective decks at the fastest possible, though that hadn’t prevented us from having to cramp ourselves with ten other people. Initially, I wanted to go to the observation deck, but Jax had gotten off before that, forcing me to follow.

“So?” I asked the moment we were alone in the corridor.

“Not here.” He led on. “Let’s go to my room.”

“Why?” I crossed my arms. We’d been together for less than a day and I already didn’t like it.

“Better privacy settings,” he said over his shoulder in a matter of fact fashion. “I’m fully human.”

The response was slightly irritating, but I couldn’t argue its logic. In the eyes of the bureaucratic apparatus, he remained human, and no experience or seniority could diminish that fact. I watched him go down the corridor for a few moments, then followed.

“Do you still eat that jelly stuff?” Jax asked as we walked. “You were the only one who enjoyed it back at the academy.”

“Mostly.” Unlike him, I needed gelatine for my bones, and despite the time spent with Sev, I had never become particularly picky.

“I stopped the moment I got my assignment. Ship food’s way better.”

“Depends on the ship.” My crew weren’t terribly impressed by my servings. In fact, all of my captains had a habit of consistently smuggling planet goods aboard. Augustus enjoyed his cigars and alcohol, Gibraltar had made it a point not to eat ship food unless he had to, and Cass was struck by a sweet tooth. Knowing how little effort it would have taken me to modify my food explicator settings, I should have served better. “Some are better than others.”

It didn’t take us long to reach Elec’s old quarters. Once inside Jax ordered that the space be kept private and locked the door.

“Not settled in yet?” I looked at the bags in the far end of the room. If nothing else, the escort ship must have taught him some discipline; the room, although still bare and impersonal, was impeccably clean and tidy. The only thing out in the open was a second uniform, neatly placed on a hanger.

“I’ll get to it.” Jax leaned against the wall. “You can sit on the bed if you want to.”

“I’m fine. So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“The XO warned me you’re a loose cannon.” He went straight to the point. “I was advised to keep my distance, especially with our history.”

“We have no history.” Somewhere some bureaucratic AI had mused we’d been in the same training station and defined our contact as potentially significant. Back when I was active, I would get a crew member’s entire file so I could come to my own conclusions.

“The XO also told me that I’m to keep an eye on you should we ever be teamed up.” Jax paused for a moment.

“You can say you’ve been asked to spy on me.” I found it almost amusing. “I’m a battleship, I used to spy on hundreds of thousands at a time. It’s okay.”

“That’s not it.” He looked away. “Lux requested you escort her on the planet surface.” Jax’s words were drenched with concern. “According to the XO, she asked for you by name.”

“I see.” I had suspected that to be the case, but was somewhat surprised at the XO. He should have known better than to share such information, and to a fresh cadet at that. I had to admit that it was weird for a BICEFI operative to request me when she could easily have a full security escort. “Are you worried?”

You should be. In my experience, all colonisation initiatives had been performed by warships and combat troops. The crew of the Prometheus was neither.

“Did you get your mission specifics?” He replied with a question.

“No. I expect it’ll be a while before—”

“I have,” Jax interrupted. “Everyone else has. Some details are pending, but everyone on board has been given their mission briefs.”

“Oh?” I tilted my head. “How did you learn that?”

“The XO’s the one giving out assignments. He received the list hours before the briefing. Only you weren’t on it.”