“Feeling nervous?” Lux asked.

Everything considered, it was normal to be. Officially, we had started the mission seven minutes ago, and I still didn’t know what I was supposed to do, exactly. I had received an encrypted message informing me of my duties. The message was rich in warnings and protocol reminders, but poor on actual information. The only specifics it gave was that I had been assigned to escort Ms Lux to the surface. When I had sent a request for clarification to the XO, he had replied in no uncertain terms that I was to figure it out on my own.

“There’s no cause to be,” the woman continued, taking my silence for a confirmation. “I won’t hold your past mistakes against you.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” I held tight to my belt strap. At present, she had all the cards and was making a point to let me know it. Even so, I had to admire her going to the surface in person. As per the general mission parameters, exos and probes were not allowed to be sent down. Exploration and sample gathering were to be done in person, with scientists only being allowed to direct security personnel to act as proxies. “I’m still uncertain why you would choose to go in person.”

Readings from the planet appeared on my visor display. The atmospheric conditions for our sector were close to perfect for the next few hours. After that, one of the minor storms moving down from the planet’s poles might pose a danger.

“Some things could only be done in person,” Lux said. Moments later, my connection with Prometheus was severed. “Are you aware how many ships return to the service after coming out of retirement?”

“I have no idea, ma’am.” Based on the number of retirees, I suspected the number was small.

“Thirty-seven.” She set the opacity of her helmet to ten percent, enough for me to fully see her expression. “Each and every one of you a bureaucratic nightmare.”

So, I’m not the only cadet in the service. There was no telling how many of the thirty-seven remained on active duty, but I felt relieved that there were others.

“I’ll take your word for it, ma’am.” After the mission was over, I was going to look into the matter.

“There are those who think that your place isn’t in the fleet.” The entire shuttle began to tremble as we entered the planet’s atmosphere. “There’s a surprising amount of political pressure to make it illegal for retirees to serve. ‘One can’t unbreak a toy,’ they say.” She paused, waiting for the tremors to subside. Thirteen seconds later, they did. “BICEFI disagrees.”

I tightened my grip on my belt strap. From experience, I’d found that what was good for the BICEFI came at someone else’s expense.

“The reason I picked you for this mission was your third-contact experience.” The words brought the images of the third-contact symbols to the forefront of my mind, making them spin in their three-dimensional order. The long nights in the octonary system had managed to help me brute force the missing elements. By the sound of things, I was going to need that information sooner than expected.

“Yes, ma’am.” I felt partial regret. “Does that mean the planet won’t be colonized?”

“Not for decades,” she said in a tone that suggested it was unlikely any civilians were going to set foot on it, even after a century. “Too many risks are involved. Remember the dome you found during your previous mission? We have reason to suspect that there are similar artefacts here.”

An unknown connection linked to my core sending two data bursts directly to my mind. A three-dimensional virtual image of the planet appeared. Markers covered two of the major land masses. Upon inspecting them, further images appeared: unknown triangular symbols, composed entirely of cobalt.

“Same artefacts, same material, same symbols,” Lux continued. “So far, we’re retrieved five thousand and seventeen artefacts in total, all of them of minor significance but capable of disrupting standard communications.”

“And you suspect there’s a dome,” I finished her thought for her.

“Several.” Lux crossed her arms. I could see her smug smile behind her helmet. “The scatter pattern of the smaller pieces suggests the presence of three potential “spheres.” Assuming they haven’t been removed. Personally, I’m more interested in the presence of life on this planet.”

“Not the artefacts?” I found that difficult to believe.

“I’m interested because of the artefacts. So far there’s only been one other case of third-contact artefacts being found on an inhabitable planet. Based on what we’ve seen, there is no doubt that the local flora has been affected in some way.”

“I understand,” I lied.

After my recent experience, I had taken the time to go through all the protocols and procedures dealing with anything third-contact related. Considering the scale of the bureaucratic apparatus, there was remarkably little information on the subject. Ultimately, it all boiled down to a set of loose guidelines and an insistence to bring the matter up the chain of command as quickly as possible. Most likely, Prometheus had been tasked with collecting and analysing plant samples, while Lux went along with her real mission. It was also unlikely that I had been told the truth of that mission either. It was the practice of the BICEFI.

“Don’t overthink it,” Lux said, pointing a finger at me. “Your goal is to assist me while I’m down there., That’s all.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Drop the ma’am.” There was a distinct note of annoyance in her voice.

“Yes, Ms Lux,” I said, preferring it over “Operative”. She seemed to approve, for she didn’t make any comment. “Is there anything specific you’d like me to do?”

Behind the helmet, her lips curved in a smile—the first genuine one I’d seen since I’d met her.

“I’ll tell you when appropriate.” Yellow notifications appeared on my screen—the shuttle pilot was informing us that we’d be landing in three minutes. Not a lot of time, considering the conversation we were having. “But I’m sure you have your own theories.”

“I suspect that since life is abundant near the artefacts, it’s likely that…” My words trailed off. If there was a link between life on the planet and the third-contact artefacts, there was no telling what we might come across. Maybe even a self-aware artefact?

The concept sounded terrifyingly captivating. A race with three-dimensional space perception and the technology to produce artefacts with sentience. If true, it would be like meeting an alien version of myself. The prospect made me anxious with anticipation, almost as if I were about to hit the front lines once more.

“What if we come across another Scuu, ma’am?” I asked. If they had the power to render our communication technology useless, they could also be capable of worse, possibly even shutting down ship cores and human brains. “Isn’t there a danger that I and the entire crew might be compromised in case of contact?”

“An unlikely possibility.” Lux tensed up as we entered the final stages of landing. “But that’s why we chose a science ship for this mission. If things go wrong, the infection won’t travel far.”

The implication was clear. It also explained the restrictions imposed on devices sent to the planet. If the key artefact was anything similar to the ones I’d run into, most gadgets would be rendered inoperable. However, I knew that there was an even greater concern, possibly the real reason that Prometheus had been sent to the planet instead of a battleship: science ships didn’t have weapon systems.

Priority zero fleet communication protocols. Memory restriction removed.

* * *

“The fleet will go in geosynchronous orbit round the fourth planet and execute an all-out bombing strike,” Sword of Wands said in the channel. “Light Seeker will be one of the ships coordinating it, along with myself and Cyan Forge. Any other actions are strictly forbidden. Confirm that the order is received and understood.”

I performed a new series of deep scans, had my subroutines analyse the data, then repeated the cycle. According to the readings, no enemy presence was detected within the system, although the gravitational anomalies made it impossible to have full certainty. Even so, my worst simulations predicted that in a worst-case scenario, there could be no more than ninety-one Cassandrian ships hiding within the system—nowhere near enough to present any danger to our numbers.

My next action was to perform a search of Cyan Forge in the fleet database. His file listed him as experimental, but based on his designs, I could tell he was little more than a modified carrier that had his contingent of fighters replaced by next gen missile systems. Little wonder he had been selected to co-lead the charge. That still didn’t explain why I was. From what I could tell, I had never been on any missions with him nor Sword of Wands.

“Do I send our confirmation, Captain?” I asked, attempting a distant planet scan.

“Send the confirmation,” Gibraltar whispered. I could tell he didn’t like the notion. “Sound combat alert. Call everyone to battle stations.”

“Yes, sir.” I obeyed the order, although I found it overkill for a mere planetary bombardment. Two-point-three seconds later, my attack vectors were sent to me, along with those of half the fleet.

“Do you think the Scuu have gotten this far?” Minyasha Iy asked in a semi-whisper. The readings from her nanites were spiking. “Bombardment is used for planets they’ve taken.”

“The Scuu haven’t entered Cassandrian space.” Gibraltar’s voice had traces of hesitation.

“We both know this isn’t how you fight Cassandrians,” Iy persisted.

“I’m not detecting any bio presence on the surface.” I did a distant planetary scan. “No structures or major anomalies.”

“Command didn’t send a small armada to shoot up a planet for target practice!” the weapon’s officer hissed. I had to agree with her statement. Looking at it logically, there was no reason for us to be here.

Cassandrians jumping in, Lunar Smile transmitted in the fleet channel. Seventy-eight jumps.

“Enemy ships jumping in, Captain,” I related. We weren’t the only ones interested in the system. “All defenses are up. Ready to engage on your order.”

Another fifty ships entered the system, followed by a hundred and twelve, then waves of fifty in two second intervals. I readied my weapon systems, displaying warnings on every wall and hallway. The transmissions in the fleet channel had increased to the point where they were a constant stream of info bursts. Simulation results and tactics options jumped from ship to ship, building one overarching strategy. Each time the number of enemy ships increased, the strategy changed.

“Fourteen hundred ships, Captain.” Unless the flow of reinforcements decreased, they were going to outnumber us in less than a minute. “Everyone’s on standby and awaiting orders.”

“Break free from the current formation.” Gibraltar rushed to the center of the bridge. I covered the walls and ceiling with displays of the system. The enemy ships had already started to form a crude front heading towards our position. The only advantage we held was the field of debris and gravitational anomalies separating us. “Inform Command and request reinforcements.”

I had a subroutine send the request, while I prepared to engage. The bridge staff were at their command consoles, ready to intervene. Moments later, a mass request denial flooded the channel.

“Continue with previous objective,” Sword of Wands commanded. “Don’t contact Command or engage the enemy.”

“He’s insane!” Gibraltar hissed. I watched him use his personal communication line to establish connection with fleet HQ. I also watched the request be denied for the first time since my creation. Having a ship override the orders of a human was unheard of. The denial was further followed by a reminder that disobeying Sow’s orders was considered treason.

Increase speed beyond safety limits, Sword of Wands transmitted. Prepare for annihilating bombardment.

A new set of strategy orders arrived: the planetary attack was to occur in two simultaneous waves. Sword and the other ship were going to coordinate a massive missile bombardment, while I was to direct all laser attacks at a specific point. The instructions were different than the ones I’d received minutes ago. The presence of the Cassandrians had clearly changed them, but I couldn’t see any logic in the new commands.

“Cassandrians are launching fighters, Captain. First wave’s ETA is seventeen minutes.” Meanwhile enemy reinforcements continued to jump in. They had surpassed the size of our fleet by twenty percent and kept growing. “We’re expected to reach the target planet in twenty.”

That was cutting it too close. According to the new set of simulations, our fleet was going to suffer substantial amounts of damage before we were in position to fire the first shot. And for some reason, Sword of Wands kept sending the same instructions.

“Defense and shuttle crews are ready and standing by,” I announced. “Reinforcing outer hull.”

This was the moment for my Captain to say something, but he didn’t. For the next few minutes, he remained looking at the screens silently, his forehead wrinkling up into latticework of disbelief. I knew that he was ambitious the moment he came to inspect me before being assigned as my captain, but I never imagined he would devolve to this when his control was stripped away. There wasn’t a fleet officer standing in my bridge right now, but a child waking up in a world he knew nothing about.

“Two enemy wings have set course towards us, sir,” I said after a few minutes. “Your orders?”

For several seconds, everyone looked at Gibraltar for guidance. When the moments were over, Kyra Hiat—the commanding officer—took over. He was older than Gibraltar, though by no means as ambitious, preferring to take a back seat unless needed. Unlike Gibraltar, he hadn’t received any advanced tactics training, or even been in any officer academies. Instead, he had managed to reach his current position through years on the front, receiving two battlefield promotions. The only thing the two had in common was their approach to combat.

“Have everyone prepare for boarding attempts.” The commander’s voice was dry. “Ready minisats and missiles.”

“On it, commander.” I sent Sow the plan of action for confirmation. “Missile use has been denied.” No surprises there, although I had expected to be allowed to use the anti-ship ammunition.

“Get virus transmission ready.” His voice sounded half as loud. “Seal the deck. Reinforce the bridge.”

No further orders were given. I had my subroutines convey the orders before focusing ninety-nine percent of them on preparing for the attack. Attack vectors and trajectory paths occupied all my processing power, limiting my ability to run simulations to one per seven seconds. In the majority of scenarios, I survived about eight minutes after initial engagement before being shredded by the Cassandrian fleet. Sow and Cyan, by my calculations, never made it past six.

Sword of Wands, requesting to engage the fighters. I sent a direct transmission.

Continue as planned, Ascendant. The reply came with a millisecond delay. Don’t engage in any way.

The fleet won’t survive ten minutes after initial encounter!

Neither will they. Sow disabled my communication protocols.

This was the first time someone had meddled with my systems so openly. I’d had hundreds of instances of being ignored, having my commination channel severed abruptly, or having a restriction slapped on, but never this. Instinctively, I put up a series of virtual barriers, even if I knew it would hardly matter; the BICEFI didn’t follow the standard rules.

The attack started as predicted. Waves of fighters swept over their intended targets, scattering arrays of probing shots.

“Enemy missiles underway,” I announced. “Impact in nine seconds.”

The Cassandrians were following a variation of their standard attack, relying on fighters to weaken and disable us before the major ships arrived. The approach was highly flawed and predictable, relying on numbers to achieve its goal. It was of interest, however, that the fighters had only resorted to standard missiles, passing up any beam or transmission virus attacks.

“Brace for impact!” I said on the bridge. My hull shook as four missiles exploded on contact with my hull. The fifth was a borehead, attempting to drill though, yet failing due to my nanite reinforcements.

“The hull’s been partially breached.” I sealed off the relevant section. “Systems remain nominal.”

“Launch minisats!” Commander Kyra ordered. “Are any other waves targeting us?”

“The current waves are focusing on the Sword of Wands.” I used what processing power I had available to project their heading. “No one’s targeting us for the moment.”

Medbots entered the bridge, ready to act if needed. The attack had led to no casualties, although three hundred and twelve personnel had sustained moderate to serious injuries. I instructed all available bots to head to the affected areas, then left them on autonomous control.

“Total amount of Cassandrian ships has increased to four thousand seven-hundred.” Reinforcements had stopped appearing eight minutes ago, but at these numbers, they didn’t have to continue. And yet, I still couldn’t find a logical reason for either side to show such interest in a graveyard system. “Mission to commence in ninety-three seconds.”

“Are you allowed to launch decoys?” Kyra rushed to the command area of the bridge.

Gibraltar remained motionless in his seat. The nanite readings had fallen to levels indicating he wasn’t acknowledging anything around him. The med officer would probably describe this as a full psychic breakdown. Until today, I never thought it was something that could occur to him. However, it had.

“Permission granted,” I said and launched a few dozen to discourage stray fighters. The rest, I was going to save for a targeted attack upon me.

Entering a fifty-second calm window, I sent a status query on the other ships of the fleet. Like me, most had suffered minor to moderate damages, with only three ending up destroyed. It wasn’t anyone I knew, though I still found their death to be a waste, considering they likely could have fought off the attackers. Sword of Wands remained under heavy fire, swarmed by over five hundred fighters. Surface scans suggested he had taken a minimal amount of damage, despite what he had been subjected to.

“Attack commencing in fifteen seconds,” I said on the bridge. “Sealing off bridge and auxiliary sections. Reactors have three layers of protection.” Serving under Augustus had taught me a few things, although I doubted he would have been enthusiastic about our current odds… and plan. Next attack wave expected in twenty-seven seconds.”

I had hoped my last announcements would spur Gibraltar to make a comment of some kind. The captain remained frozen in his seat, staring blankly at a spot on the floor. A quarter minute later, our attack commenced. Eight missiles launched from a single ship behind me, starting their approach towards the planet. Two milliseconds later, sixty-four followed, then five hundred and twelve. The Cassandrian fighters simultaneously changed course, breaking their attack. The simulation I’d managed to run had shown them dispersing and fleeing to the safety of their capital shifts. Instead, they headed straight for the missiles.

Three seconds till your start, Sword of Wands transmitted.

Clusters of explosions lit up around me like mini-novas, all the way to the planet, peeling off the crust’s layers. Each missile had been constructed with the power to pierce an enemy ship; when combined in one spot, they had the power to shatter planets.

Go! The order came.

My subroutines acted in sync, directing the precise time, target, and strength of the fleet’s entire beam weapons. My attack vectors merged with those of Sow and Cyan, weaving the most complicated attack pattern I had seen. Tens of thousands of beams pierced through the explosion clouds, hitting the red scorched surface. A new plume of molten matter emerged, blowing away what little atmosphere the planet had.

Salvo complete, I transmitted. Eleven seconds till next. The initial plan was for the fleet to fire four salvos, then await further instructions.

Commence salvo now! Sow ordered. Adjust your target coordinates.

A new set of coordinates were received, far more specific than before, directing all the firepower to one specific point, located seventy-nine kilometers beneath the planet’s surface. While my subroutines were recalibrating the weapons of the fleet, I redirected one of my minisats to get a visual of the location.

You’ve deviating from the plan, Cyan Forge transmitted. Start the salvo so we get this over with.

Salvo commencing in sixty milliseconds, I announced, sending the final instructions. Throughout the fleet, weapon systems responded, awaiting the final synchronized order. And all the while, I still had no idea about the purpose of this entire operation. Since the start of the wars, ships had been wasted and sacrificed every day, but there always was at least some indication as to what the overall goals were. To make things even stranger, the Cassandrians had responded by sending a massive fleet of their own to reconquer a strategically useless system. And based on the amount of ship remains, this wasn’t the first time.

Initiating salvo, I gave the trigger command.

As the rays shot at the target, a single image came from my minisat, providing me with a visual. The spot was surrounded by molten smothering rock of the planet’s crust, amid balls of smoke and fire. The deep scan, though, had revealed something: a single anomalous spherical object of dense metal buried deep under the rock. I watched the cluster of rays drill up to it… then the entire planet exploded with the might of a supernova star.

Memory Restriction Imposed.

* * *

BICEFI destroyed the artifact.

I stared at Lux. There were still parts of that expeditions I couldn’t access, but I remembered the condition of the ships who had managed to return. A single artifact had destroyed thousands of ships in an instant. It explained why the BICEFI were persistently keeping third-contact artifacts away from everyone else, even within the fleet.

“Any other concerns?” The woman looked at me, as if I were a one-legged sparrow.

“No.” I set the opacity of my helmet to fifty percent. “No concerns at all.”