No one knew how long the wars had lasted. Officially, there were millions of historical files and data entries detailing the changes humanity had gone through after the disastrous first contact. Everyone knew about the first wave of defeats, the construction of the Paladin class ships—the first conscious core vessels—followed by the rise of the mass-produced fleets, the battlefleet split, and the campaigns that managed to push the enemies back into their own space. Each of these events had major historical significance, but on closer examination, it quickly became obvious how vague they actually were. To this day, I don’t know the exact year the wars had started, nor can I find information on the ancient ships. The Swords were said to be among the last ship class to fight on both fronts, as were the Shields. Beyond that, I couldn’t tell. Even the Paladins were little more than a name with highly censored blueprints and system statistics.

While I was a ship, I never wondered about such things. My focus had consistently been to protect my crew and defeat the enemy, same as the people aboard me. And still there was one question that kept bothering me since my first year: how could the three races be so different? With the combined processing power of all the ship and station cores at its disposal, humanity should have been able to break the communication barrier and obtain information to aid us in the war effort. According to both military and civilian databases, no such thing had happened. Technology had been reverse-engineered, weapons systems had been copied, yet nowhere was there a list of Cassandrian terms. The few enemies that we’d managed to capture had been shipped off to the dark intelligence divisions in the fleet, all images quarantined from my memory. Scuu script was the only alien language officially recognized, it too hidden behind several layers of confidentiality. Centuries of combat and none of the three races could exchange a single word. Would the third-contact be any different?

“No symbols on this one either,” Jax said through my comm. “Any luck on your end?”

“No.” I slid my fingers along the cobalt artefact. Nine domes—nine artefacts—all close to one another, yet never touching. Jax and I had spent over twenty minutes examining the visible surfaces of all nine. So far, only one was consistently covered with third contact symbols. “Take a break. I’ll take a quick look at the center one.” I tapped the dome, then went to the rope ladder attached to the wall and started climbing.

The arrangement between me and Lux remained in effect, although with slight modifications. She had agreed not to interfere, and in exchange, I was to provide a non-interrupted video stream of everything Jax and I did. Lux had also drilled a small shaft, large enough to provide us food, oxygen, power cells, and a select number of electronic devices. One of the first things I had requested was a military grade weapon. Instead, I was given a portable oxygen mask and a mini-comm device. If nothing else, it couldn’t be said that Lux didn’t have a sense of humor.

Walking along the separator walls, I paid special attention to the domes. Each of the outer ones had a star-shaped fractal symbol on top, and none of them had reacted to touch. The only one that remained unknown was the larger artefact, but to get there, I needed some additional gear from Lux.

“Why are you so eager to activate it?” the BICEFI operator asked through the comm.

“I’m curious like that, ma’am,” I replied.

“I’d have hoped that last time would have taught you something.” The disapproval was plain to hear.

“Last time I had a memory block thrust on me, possibly by someone in your organization.” I leaned against the central dome. No effect. The surface remained unchanged and far too smooth for me to scale. “I never got an answer to my question back then.”

“And you think you’ll get one now?” She laughed in typically condescending fashion.

“Who knows. At this point, it's best I ask for the impossible. I doubt I’ll get another chance.”

“Oh, you won’t. I’ll try to arrange for you to get an answer during your court martial.”

“I knew I could count on you, ma’am.” I stepped away. Finding out would have to wait a bit longer.

“Look, I’ll admit that your particular skill set has made you useful in exploring certain types of situations, but we had no intention of shutting you down. You were supposed to be a time saver, nothing more.” She was obviously lying. Even humans would be kicked out after disobeying as many orders as I had. “You’re a loose cannon, but you’re useful.”

“Are you trying to recruit me, ma’am?” I asked in a deliberately snarky voice.

“I see why your superiors find you such a joy to work with,” she snapped. “And just to be clear, if you try anything on the core dome, I’ll burn you out of there just out of principle.”

Nice to know you have any principles at all, I thought. As fun as it would have been saying this in an open comm, there was nothing to gain from such a confrontation. Besides, Lux was right—interacting with the core artifact wasn’t the best idea.

“Understood loud and clear, ma’am.” I made my way to the section Jax was waiting at. “Any advice you might share as to how I should proceed?”

“I’ll let you know.” Lux severed the link. As with most high-level bureaucrats, her humor seemed to be one-sided.

There was nothing keeping me from disobeying her “advice” and gambling that I could activate the core dome. If there was one thing I had learned through decades on the battlefield, it was to always consider the capabilities of the opposing participant. Despite the air she was giving, Lux wasn’t stupid. She had been very careful to manipulate events to be in control of her operation, without revealing its true nature. I knew that her plan was to use me to find the artefact all along, even if the presence of a core artefact surprised her. In any other circumstances I would have call this a fortunate turn of events. Looking at the big picture, however, my concern continued to grow. Shipyards continued to pump out new classes of ships, and fleet recruitment was visibly on the rise, tripling in the last few months. According what Buc had last shared, training had become more intense, nearing active combat levels of severity. From this perspective, it was highly improbable that my mission assignment was an accident.

“Elcy, you coming?” Jax asked. “Or did you find something?”

“On my way.” I quickened my pace. There are too many things that don’t add up. “Any changes on the symbols?”

“Not that I could tell. I can ask Prometheus to confirm.”

“Don’t.” He’s incapable of seeing them either way. “He’d have said something if they were.”

Prometheus hadn’t spoken to me since my arrangement with Lux. We had gone through several rough patches since my short time onboard, but this time I had gone too far. I didn’t expect us to have anything to say after this, and being realistic about it, we wouldn’t have to.

Four ground lamps hummed near the active dome, drowning it in light like a glass of olive oil in a bowl of salad. Lux had been insistent that the place was adequately illuminated and we had decided to oblige.

“Gelatin rations,” Jax said, holding a cylindrical container. He was still wearing his space suit. “Guess I’m not special enough.”

“You can always try some.” I went next to him. The markings identified the food as a mix of cherry, pineapple, and lemon flavor. Not a combination I’d choose. “I’d advise against it, though.”

“Yep, I’ll pass.” He put on the ground. “Anything so far?”

“None of the outer ones can be activated.” I sat on the ground. This was the first time in a while I felt proper soil under me. It felt nice, making me want to take my boots off. “I’ll have to wait for Lux to send a camera before I can explore it. Scaling the dome is out of the question.”

“We still have this one.” Jax pointed.

“Yes, we do.” And no way to get inside. Last time, it had taken pressing on a fractal symbol for the sphere to activate. The same was probably true here, if I managed to find the symbol in question. I had determined it wasn’t the one on the top, and the visible side had none. Provided one existed, it was likely hidden in one of the areas touching the walls.

“What do you think it is?”

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be here.” I know what the BICEFI are using it for, though. “Could be a knowledge depository or control terminal. There’d be no reason for symbols otherwise.”

“We get messages on the walls every five minutes we’re aboard Prometheus. Is he a knowledge depository?” As sarcasm went, Jax’s was weak, even if he did have a point. There was no telling what the domes were about. With most of my relevant memories repressed, my guess was good as anyone else’s.

“Anything interesting during your search?” I opened the food ration cylinder and took a packet. Unlike the ones on the ship, the portion was in a tube, making it efficient for combat. Grounds troops used them during extended siege operations, though the last time I’d seen it happen was thirteen years before retiring. If the fleet records were to be believed, the amount of ground operations since then had decreased in number and length to the point where they had become impractical. It was almost impressive what Lux had gone through to dig them out, especially since Prometheus didn’t have any in storage.

“Nothing seems to have been touched in ages.” Jax said looking at the food tube. His smirk was visible even behind the helmet.

I wish I still had my probe. There was every chance that it had activated the dome. Lux was unlikely me to give me another. Further experimentation would have to wait until Jax and everyone else was off the planet and Prometheus a safe distance away.

“So what now?” Jax went to the dome. “We can’t activate them and we can’t enter this one…” he glanced at me over his shoulder. “Not much point in sitting here.”

“That’s true.” The paste tasted surprisingly good. To my further surprise, I didn’t detect any invading nanites enter my system. “At this point, we must improvise.”

Augustus constantly used to tell his officers to go with their gut. In my case, he would say the opposite: obey orders, do what I was told, and stop referring to the standard regulations. Back then, it was necessary for me to learn the basics. Now, I decided to show some human initiative. Joining Jax at the dome, I took off my glove and put my fingers on one of the symbols.

“What are you doing?” the cadet asked. I could feel the faint notes of panic in his voice.

“Testing a theory.” If the symbols were three-dimensional objects in the dome, it stood to reason that they could be manipulated. My previous experience suggested as much. During the first mission, I, and the entire team, had been so focused on clearing the dome and pressing the fractal runes that no one had even considered doing the obvious.

Pressing the symbol as hard as I could, I moved my hand to the left. The entire row of symbols moved along with it. Pausing, I then moved my hand upwards. The effect was the same.

“Wow,” Jax whispered, reminding me he was only a child. In his defense, I felt the same way.

“You better get ready to receive more packages.” I moved my hand off the dome. “We’ll be getting a lot more cameras.”

In less than three minutes, I was proven right. Lux was quick to send us a coded communication, along with half a dozen consent forms we were obliged to sign. I did so right away. Jax took a bit longer, initially requesting clarification on certain elements, before doing the same. Unlike my previous cadet, he was perfectly aware of the situation and also didn’t have nearly as many connections to do anything but comply.

The instant the obligatory bureaucracy was out of the way, a case of camera drones was dropped down the mini chute. There were sixteen in total, all of which we had to activate before proceeding further. Lux was very specific on the placement: one monitoring each inactive sphere and eight on the one in our area. Once that was done, the actual scientific process began and, as with anything dealing with the unknown, so did the boredom.

The first hour was spent mapping the symbols, namely rotating the central row one at a time. Jax lasted four and a half minutes before his interest waned. The next twelve minutes, he continued to feign interest before I made him take a break.

“A fully complement of ship cores would come in handy, ma’am,” I said in comm.

“It probably would,” Lux didn’t take long to reply. “But I can’t offer one.”

“I wasn’t talking about myself, ma’am.”

“I know. I was talking about Prometheus. He doesn’t have the clearance for such an operation.”

“Slow and steady it is then, ma’am,”

“I told you to drop the ma’am,” Lux said with a slight hiss. “Now that we’re in this shit, go ahead and drop the pleasantries.”

“I didn’t know there was a mess the BICEFI couldn’t fix.” I went to the point where the sphere touched the wall and moved the leftmost symbol up. During the entire process the symbols on the walls had remained static, just as had the connections between the wall and the dome itself. “Ms. Lux,” I added.

“Aquila,” the woman corrected. “Take a break, if you want.”

“Maybe later.” I moved the next symbol of the row up. Maybe when I had the entire sphere mapped.

The process continued in silence. With each shift, more of the dome’s symbols appeared. Three hours in, I reached the second fractal symbol. I expected Lux to order me to stop, but no such command came. Cautious, I moved another three symbols as usual. Nothing changed.

“What is your goal?” I asked. “You know the significance of the symbol. Why didn’t you order me to press it?”

“Why do you think I’m interested in you pressing it?” She sounded amused. “I told you my interest lies in the artefacts, nothing more.”

“The previous operative seemed very eager to find out what was inside.” I kept on with my task. Twenty-nine percent of the dome’s surface remained uncovered. By rough calculations, if I continued at the present pace, I’d be able to pass through them in ninety-six minutes.

“The BICEFI isn’t as monolithic as you’d think. Different divisions have different goals. Sometimes we cooperate, but for the most part we just CC the corresponding departments and focus on our objectives. You of all ships should know that.”

My hand froze. She knew about my forbidden memories and was still keeping them under wraps. With Doctor Sim all too happy to back her up, all she needed to do was start an official investigation to get me isolated and forcibly shut down. That was why she had forbidden any med tests during the mission. If even a suspicion leaked out, I wouldn’t have been able to participate in the mission, and she would have had many more problems finding the artefacts. Now that I had done her work for her, I was expendable.

“I’ll finish the mapping,” I said, closing the link.

By the time I finished the complete map, Jax had gone to sleep. No attempts had been made to dig us out, although I felt a few minor tremors suggesting the area above me was being prepared for artefact extraction.

Going through my database, there were a total of a hundred and forty-four new symbols, with the same amount missing from the previous dome. There were only two fractal symbols—the same I was familiar with, though at different locations. After some consultation with Aquila Lux, I arranged them in an order she suggested. She never specified, but I was sure it was based on the discoveries of previous artifacts. One could only assume how many others the BICEFI had come across before making their system. I also wondered what percentage had been destroyed.

“Does Jax need to be here for this?” I asked. “There’s no telling what will happen when I activate it.”

“Someone must be present on the outside,” Aquila said. “Cameras might not be enough, if there’s another communication blackout.”

“The whole planet won’t be enough if there’s an explosion,” I upped the ante. “Let me do this on my own. I’m used to one-way missions.”

“There won’t be any explosions,” she said. I could almost feel a smile. “Jax will have to stay. If any of the other domes activate, he’ll have to enter it as well.”

“This isn’t the first time you’ve come across a core, is it?” I took a step back. The fractal symbol was right in front of me at chest level, in the middle of the dome.

“No,” Aquila said after a while. “I wasn’t sure I’d find one, though. Cores and key artefacts are rare. If nothing else, discovering it would be to your benefit during your arbitration.”

“So, there’s no going round that.” Things were becoming more and more clear. I was no longer going through a standard court martial. The people looking at my case were going to be Arbiters, and the outcome could only go one way. “Will the war effort gain from this?”

“That much, I can promise.” There was slight hesitation. “Despite everything you’ve done and what you might think, you’ve helped the fleet enough to be of significance.”

It’s just a shame my career couldn’t last beyond three months. Augustus and Gibraltar had taught me many tricks during our service together, though none would be able to get me out of this mess. Still, there was one final gamble I was going to take. One final charge against the fleet.

Quietly, I went to my space suit. It was folded a few steps from where Jax had curled up on the ground. Watching him sleep reminded me of the times I’d spent with Alicia and Elec. The time I’d spent together with them had been short, but I still felt a connection. Hopefully they would remember me once this was over. I doubted Buc, Prometheus, and Radiance would.

“Rebooting suit systems,” I said. Streams of data flowed over my visor, informing me of the suit’s status. With the exception of the minor damage received during my fall into the chamber, all was fully functional. “Backup recorder activated. Ready for the go-ahead.”

“Authorization granted.” Aquila’s voice sounded louder. Regardless of our diametrically opposing views, at this moment we had one goal—a temporary alliance that made everything else irrelevant. “Safe flying, Elcy.”

Here we go again. I put my hand on the fractal symbol.