During my time in the Fleet, I had faced millions of Cassandrian Battleships. I had fought off fighter attacks, bombarded their troops from orbit, and on a few occasions I had even helped fight off enemy breaches. And still, this was the first time I would get to fight a Cassandrian in person at close range. As I watched spores form in the air bubble, dozens of simulations ran through my mind, displaying the most effective methods against all the subspecies of Cassandrians I had in my database.

All the weapons that could do any serious damage were outside the dome, as was my support. That made a successful outcome seem unlikely.

“I’ve confirmed Cassandrian tech in the dome,” I said, gripping the rods tightly. Based on all my simulations, there was only one thing I could do. Taking a deep breath, I hit the rods against each other once more.

The force of the energy release was far stronger than before. Lacking any liquid metal to absorb it, it threw me back, slamming me against the cobalt then pushing on.

The air bubble increased, taking up roughly a quarter of the overall volume. If I had done this anywhere else, odds were I wouldn’t survive. Thankfully, my calculations had been within the realm of prediction. The suit, along with my protective gear, had managed to withstand just enough force while the liquid cobalt I had slammed into had cushioned me to some degree.

In other circumstances, I would have chosen a much safer approach, but safety wasn’t my only concern. In this instance, I was walking along a thin line, balancing my safety while also doing what was best for the Director and the rest of the people trapped down here. Also, there was the matter of the Cassandrians.

In the moments I was thrust backwards, I saw the dust disperse, then become swallowed by the cobalt as the liquid slowly filled the void.

“Elcy!” I heard the colonel’s voice through the comm. “Whatever you did, it worked. Good job! Comm lines to the surface are back up.”

Emergency messages flooded my core. Apparently, the little adventure I had initiated had been worse on my body than I had imagined. Even with all the protection, sufficient damage had been done to my body to make me go into shock and without enough nanites to deal with the issue, I could only rely on the reactions of the organic part of me.

“I need extraction,” I thought to say, the words coming out like a blurred whisper.

Focusing on what strength I had left, I pushed myself towards the point of entry. My only hope was to reach the cube artifact while I remained conscious. The third-contact tech would deal with the rest from there.

“What’s going on?” ‘Rissa asked.

I didn’t have the strength or will to respond. All my processing and physical power were focused on a single task.

“Princess?” Sim’s voice joined in. He sounded a lot more upbeat than a while back, although without a proper voice analysis, I couldn’t be sure. “What’s your status?”

“You were right.” I let go of the rods and reached for the cube. It was so close, and yet so far away. A few inches separated my fingers from it… they might as well have been miles. Pushing every remaining ounce of strength I had left, I kicked backwards in a sloppy attempt to pass the distance that remained.

From past experience, I knew it wouldn’t be long before sleep mode was initiated. Thankfully, my last-ditch effort paid off. As my fingers pressed against the side of the seven triangles cube, I felt the force pull me forward.

Condition critical!

Engaging sleep mode.

A moment later, three hundred seventy-three thousand and two hundred and twenty-one milliseconds had passed. I was on the floor, with someone standing above me. Instantly, I recognized the sergeant of my group. The helmet opacity made it difficult to be certain, but based on his body language, the man was agitated.

“I’m all right,” I tried to say. The words were so weak that they were barely registered by the comm. Apparently, I was vastly overestimating my body’s abilities. It wasn’t like someone was using agora on me. “I’m alright,” I said more forcefully.

This got some attention. The sergeant froze for a few moments, as if to confirm whether he had really heard anything. When he saw me look at him—thanks to my low helmet opacity—he immediately knelt down close to me.

“The lieutenant is back,” I heard him say through com. “I repeat, the lieutenant is back.”

Good to know I’m being addressed as a lieutenant, I thought.

“Good to have you back, princess.” I heard the director’s voice. “’Rissa was debating sending a med team your way.”

It was obvious he was lying. The colonel wouldn’t risk losing any more men to come after me, especially given that I had completed my primary objective. Still, it was nice of Sim to say that.

“No need for that, Director.” I tried to stand up, but my balance was off. The sergeant, along with someone else from my squad, quickly gave me some support, helping me sit up on the floor.

Looking around, I could tell I was in the temp bunker. The place was fortified, as well as a group of five could manage in this amount of time. That was to say that we could probably hold off a few single enemies, but would be overrun if any larger force appeared.

“What’s the overall status?” I asked.

“Not great,” ‘Rissa joined in. “We’ve lost close to three-quarters of everyone here. A few larger groups managed to survive by grouping together. We’re trying to get them to join the rest of us.”

“The escape route?”

“The elevator shaft is completely gone. They’ve started drilling to make a new one, but that could take a few days. A week if we’re unlucky.”

A week in a hive with Cassandrians… that might as well be a death sentence.

“On the bright side, the Cassies aren’t as strong as we feared.”

“How did you come to such a conclusion, ma’am?” I asked.

“They haven’t killed us off. If this were a normal surge, we would have been dead by now. The fact that we’re alive means that there aren’t too many of them.”

“It means that there aren’t that many of them yet, ma’am,” I corrected. In theory, there weren’t supposed to be any, and when we first went down here, there weren’t. “Something has activated the remnants that were here. It is unlikely that it has stopped.”

There was a moment of silence.

“What did you mean when you said that Sim was right?” ‘Rissa asked through a private line.

“The Cassandrians. They were hiding in the dome. One of the rods was fake. I saw it crumble to dust.” There was no point in adding all the details that accompanied my discovery. As Gibraltar used to say, “what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m a battleship, ma’am,” I replied. “There’s no telling whether the spores can survive in the cobalt environment, but in any event, they are still locked within the dome. Do you wish for me to retrieve the cube artifacts?”

“Given that’s their way out, you’ll have to.” There was a note of disappointment in her voice. “Anything else?”

“Nothing of significance, ma’am. Are there any orders from HQ?”

“Comms are slightly limited at the moment. We don’t have a line to the research facility. Most of the direct lines are blocked.”

That was not unusual. When there was an unexplained incident, the systems in question were usually quarantined. That said, I expected Sim to have the authority to get in contact with Med Core HQ, at least.

“Quarantine protocols?” I asked.

“For the moment. Until the situation is resolved, at least.”

Understandable, and also very fortunate for Ondalov. From what I knew about him, he would be petty enough to use the situation to cease all communications with the planet under one pretext or another. No doubt he had already had a series of conversations with Med Core HQ, apprising them about the situation, where he likely had mentioned the importance of his own work.

“Any new orders for me, ma’am?”

“Not for now. Sim wants you back here, but I think we’ll be better off if you do some investigating.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Here it was—the order I was expecting. Now that things were back to normal, the next step was to get some data on the situation. Sending a large team was too risky. Sending a single battleship and her squad, on the other hand, could be considered an acceptable loss. “You want me to locate and engage the enemy?”

“No, I want you to find their source. Once we know that, we’ll know what to expect.”

This was a typical high risk, low reward mission. The best I could hope for was to find out that the number of cases was vastly inferior to ours. There was no indication that that was the case, although there was one thing that the colonel was correct about—they hadn’t killed us off, which ran counter to their nature.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll need a while to get my bearings and I’ll get on it.”

“Right.”

“One question before that, ma’am.”

“Yes?”

“I heard that I was referred to as a lieutenant. Once this is over, do I get to keep my rank?”

“Good luck, Elcy.” There was a note of amusement in ‘Rissa’s voice. The good news was that the joke managed to get her in a slightly better mood. The bad news—if I managed to survive this, I wouldn’t be promoted further than an ensign.

* * *

Sarion III, Cassandrian Buffer Zone, 607.10 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

Quarantine imposed

Quarantine bypassed

“We’re in orbit, Captain,” I said, running a series of long-range scans. “No enemies detected.”

After what the system had been through, it was normal for there to be no Cassandrians left. However, after Fleet Intelligence’s massive mess-up a month ago, I felt it proper to be on guard.

“Do you want me to send out sats?”

“No sats,” Augustus grumbled. He didn’t hide the fact that he found the mission a waste of time.

I had to agree. If there had been anything of value, it had been long bombed out of existence by several armadas on both sides. What remained were several scorch spots on the planet, along with a completely ruined ecosystem. No one could establish a colony now—neither Cassandrian nor human. And yet, Command had sent a flotilla here all the same.

Officially, our orders were to check the status of the troops left behind. In reality, the admiralty wanted to make sure that there were no Cassandrians remaining. For that reason, thirty-one of the ships were equipped with deep scan sensors. Our goal was simply to keep an eye on them and assist should any threat appear.

“I can take over if you want me to, cap’n,” Wilco said.

Augustus gave him a glance that explained his thoughts on the matter—a defiant refusal accompanied by a lot of shouting and swearing.

“What are your orders, sir?” I asked.

“What are the conditions like down there?” my captain asked.

“Hostile.” The atmosphere had been made toxic and radioactive as a result of the fighting, to the point that even the Cassandrians wouldn’t take it. Sending a person to the surface even for a few hours would be against medical regulations. There was even a chance that comm lines would be distorted.

“How long would an exo survive?”

“Most likely decades,” I replied. “That is not the issue, sir. We won’t be able to retrieve it, and fine control will be difficult at this level of radiation.”

“Prep a squad of exos, rookie,” he said, ignoring me. “And boost their comm devices. I want them to be on the surface and transmitting in twelve hours.”

“Understood, sir.” There was no point in arguing. I also had to admire the sneakiness of his order. Command couldn’t stop him since his actions were within the purview of the original mission. Strictly speaking, we were going to attempt to retrieve human remains, which would confirm our suspicions of their status. Going through the odds, though, I suspected there was a different reason for the order. Augustus wasn’t the sentimental type.

“I’ll be in my quarters. Wilco has the bridge.”

“Aye, cap’n.”

No one argued, even if the lieutenant wasn’t the next in line for command. In a way, the higher-ranking officers were thankful. This way, they wouldn’t have to deal with all this mess. If I had the choice, I wouldn’t want to, either. Only med ships were supposed to go to death scenes. There was nothing of strategic value here, not anymore. All that was left were indistinguishable remains.

I’ll be making a drop, I transmitted in the ship comm channel. Anything I have to keep in mind?

What are you dropping? Light of Past asked. He was one of the scanner ships, but other than that, there wasn’t much I could tell about him. Like everyone else in his squadron, his file was classified.

One shuttle of exos as per our primary mission, I quickly added.

The milliseconds of silence told me that the ship wasn’t pleased with my action, but there was nothing he could do about it.

Why’s your captain sending exos in that dump? Glowback asked. She was one of the younger ships who hadn’t been present in the battles a month ago. He won’t be able to get those back.

Captain’s orders, I replied.

I still don’t follow the logic. But hey, it’s your captain.

He’s a veteran war hero, Light of Past said, to my surprise. When’s your drop?

Twelve hours. I transmitted the location coordinates of the troops I’d lost. Those are the expected coordinates.

Don’t worry about it. We’ll be done in six. Pleasant hunting.

It was clear to everyone that he wasn’t a battleship. That phrase had a very specific meaning, and this was not it. His design didn’t match any Med Core or science ships I had on record, although with the current level of Fleet customization practices, it was difficult to tell. Of course, there was always the possibility that Light belonged to the BICEFI.

Reconstructing the exos to Augustus’ specifications took less than an hour. Getting the shuttle they were on to reach its destination within the given time frame was slightly more difficult.

The moment the shuttle left my hangar, I received a direct message from Command informing me that the planet had been quarantined. Naturally, I responded with a recording of the captain’s orders and a link to the official mission debriefing.

That didn’t seem to achieve much. This time, a subroutine got into direct contact with me with the authority to bypass my security protocols and investigate the modifications I’d made on the shuttles and the exos aboard.

Once that was done, I was given a very specific approach vector and told not to deviate from it. Only then was I allowed to resume control of my shuttle.

The approach was slower than I had expected. Normally, I’d have a shuttle on the planet in a few hours at the most. Given the new restrictions, the shuttle was still en route when Augustus returned from his quarters. Naturally, he wasn’t pleased.

“What’s the holdup, rookie?” he asked after seeing the shuttle video feed on the bridge wall.

“Quarantine restrictions, sir,” I replied. “I estimate we’ll be entering the atmosphere in another twenty-seven minutes.”

The captain turned to Wilco.

“Bureaucracy, cap.” The lieutenant shrugged. “Nothing we can do.”

“Get me a line to the admiralty,” Augustus growled.

When I attempted to comply, a subroutine informed me I had been temporarily denied access. Used to this, I repeated the request using the captain’s authority as well as upping the request to a level one priority. In both cases, the result remained the same.

“I’m not allowed to establish a link, sir,” I informed Augustus.

“Bloody cowards. They know they have no arguments against me, so they hide behind a firewall. Has the scanning finished?”

“Not yet, sir.” I checked with the other ships. “However, the area for the drop is cleared.”

“At least that’s some good news. I want you to land heavy. We’ll be leaving the shuttle, so no point in saving it. How many exos on board?”

“Squad of eighteen, sir. And all ground troop operators are already linked.”

“Drop one of the grunts. I’ll be assuming direct control.”

“Are you sure, sir? You haven’t been—”

“Just do it, rookie.” Augustus stormed out of the bridge again, heading directly for the nearest elevator point. “Back to you, Wilco,” he managed to say before the bridge doors closed.

“This is most unusual even for you, sir.” I established a direct comm line to the captain. “There is no reason for you to take command of the squad.”

“Someone must see that things are done right. Unlike last time.”

If there was such a thing as a low blow, this was it. I couldn’t tell whether he was blaming me for the failure of the previous mission, or Fleet Intelligence. Regardless, I felt a sharp pain split through my conscience cores at the thought. There wasn’t a ship in the Fleet that would enjoy any of its crew getting killed… even if ground troops were not considered part of the crew.

“There are a few things that only I can get done,” Augustus added as he entered the elevator I had prepared for him.

“Aye, sir. What do I tell the person when I disconnect?”

“Just tell him that he’ll be on a mission that will get him promoted, even if he’s not there.”

* * *

Be on a mission that will get him promoted… even if he’s not there…

The phrase made me smile. At times, Augustus had a way with words that was unparalleled. My memories of the specific mission remained restricted. At some point, I was going to use the mind scalpel to look into it, though that was for a later time. There was no link between it or the Cassandrians or my present predicament.

“Anyone have a stim cocktail?” I asked.

The three members of my squad looked at each other, indicating that they didn’t.

“Great,” I said, pretending I let the word slip. “Someone help me up.”

“Are you sure, ma’am?” the sergeant asked. “That didn’t go too well last time.”

“It’ll have to do.”

Slowly, I let myself be helped up. There were no core warning messages suggesting that the crisis my body had gone through was over. Still, I could feel my center of gravity shifting slightly. It took a few more seconds for my body to get used to standing.

“You can let me go,” I said. Despite their reluctance, my squad mates obeyed.

So far, so good, I took a step forward.

“Where’s my rifle?”

“Near the dome, ma’am,” Private Biu replied. According to the file ‘Rissa had read out to me, he was the support guy with seventeen successful missions. “The colonel ordered that we leave it there just in case.”

Just in case of what? I wondered.

“Prep up. We’re getting my rifle, then heading out.”

“Aye, ma’am. Has the mission changed?”

“No. We’ve been given a new mission. We’re to head further in and locate the enemy. Just locate,” I said, seeing how they froze. “We are not to engage. This is an information gathering mission.”

“Information gathering in hostile territory?” The sergeant snorted. “Maybe I should draw a picture of what’s going on.”

“There are Cassies out there killing us,” I responded, saying what was on everyone’s mind. “We have no idea what subspecies they are, how many are left, or what made them come back to life after a few thousand years of death. The colonel has asked the questions; we need to provide the answers.”

“Aye, ma’am.” The sergeant gave me the laziest salute possible, then went to pack up his gear. The remaining members of the squad did the same.

When I left the bunker, the remaining two members were waiting for me. They had heard everything that had been said and now were patiently waiting for things to get started. The calm in their posture told me that this wasn’t the first suicide mission they had been sent on. It likely wasn’t the most stupid either.

“Wait for me here,” I told them. “There’s something I need to do before we go.”

“Yes, ma’am,” both of them replied in unison.

You always made command look easy, Augustus. Sorry for not being able to ever tell you that.

I made my way to the dome. My rifle lay a few meters away, along with my sidearm. Why they had been put there, I could only guess. Despite everything, Sim still didn’t trust me completely.

“Ma’am,” I established a direct comm link with the colonel. “What’s the procedure to retrieve the cubes?”

“Are you in any condition for that?” she responded. Interesting that she didn’t outright forbid it. That suggested that she likely had the intention of asking me herself if I hadn’t raised the topic myself.

“I’m as good as I’ll get, ma’am.”

There was a long period of silence.

“Ma’am?”

“When you grab the artifact, do a full rotation counterclockwise without letting go. Start with the star, then the triangles.”

“Do you mean I must hold on to both at the same time?”

“Those are the instructions.” The doubt in her voice was palpable. I had no doubt that those were the instructions she had been given. That didn’t make it particularly better. If both my hands were occupied, there was no way I could use my side arm.

“What if there’s a Cassandrian inside?”

“Kill it.” The colonel ended the connection.

Kill it…

There was too much of Gibraltar in her for comfort. Sadly, it wasn’t like I had any choice. Picking up my pistol, I checked that it was loaded, then holstered it. With luck, I wouldn’t have to use it. If I did, though, it was imperative that I didn’t miss. There was no telling what would happen if the inside of the dome was hit with the force of a flying bullet. Given the amount of power stored in the artifact, I could end up taking a one-way trip through an energy blender.

Standing in front of the metal surface, I pressed the vector rune. The dome swallowed me up, as it usually did. Immediately I looked around, ready to face an attacker. To my surprise, there were none. The rod, and all the spores that had come out of it, were nowhere to be seen. What was more, from what I could see, a few other rods were missing as well. The many that remained had snapped to their usual spots, ready to do what the dome was designed to do.

“There are indications that there were more instances of Cassandrian tech,” I said. “I’m preparing to extract the fractal cubes.” I turned around and floated my way to the exit point. Both cubes were one next to the other, less than a meter apart. This was the moment of truth.

In perfect sync, I took hold of both of them. Then—making sure there were no surprises—I turned them a full rotation.

A series of white fractals flashed around me. A ripple passed through the entire liquid core of the dome, its intense vibrations making me feel slightly disoriented. It was as if the space itself was changing around me. My organic senses told me that I was being pulled back, despite the fact that I wasn’t moving at all. Moments later, I was outside again.

As much as I tried, though, I wasn’t able to recall the exact memory of my exit. It was as if one moment I was inside, and the next, I was out… holding both artifacts in my hands.

“Ready to go, ma’am,” the sergeant informed me. The fact that he was acting casually suggested that my exit couldn’t have been out of the ordinary.

“Thanks, sergeant. Can you find me a container that could hold these?” I raised the artifacts.

“There aren’t that many options, ma’am… I think there was an ammo case in the bunker.”

“That will do.”

For the rest of the mission, I’m not letting you out of my sight. I looked at the cubes. Not before I figure out if you’re linked to all this.

After all, Sim and ‘Rissa never specified that this tech wasn’t mimicked.