“How can you, the so-called ‘Technocracy’ Party, claim to represent progress? The Regnum Tertius barely holds a third of the territory that Eternal Emperor claimed, and a fraction of the Imperium’s might. If we didn’t hold two Omega Stations, we would have splintered along with the rest of the Imperium! How dare you make such bold and baseless claims? Your ‘progress’ will undo what remains, and your ‘political reforms’ are thinly disguised bread-and-circus policies aimed at pleasing your supporters at the expense of the Regnum. I and my faction stand opposed to your Governance Reformation Act.”

Lady E. Lamentum, Imperial Faction of Regnum Tertius

19 Julius, Annum 413 ERT

Dominus Valerius Artifex, Eternal Emperor

Enroute to Antarasel System, Unknown Space

The Crown’s Vigor translated back into normal space with no warning or fanfare. Translating between a transdimensional fold and normal space, for all the difficulty of bending space-time of two different dimensions, had very little impact on human or supran senses. In one moment, the ship was in foldspace, the next, normal space.

Because the corvette did not have to slow down, it already had significant velocity already built up. Artifex really wished he could have repaired the cloaking functions before traveling. He was feeling particularly naked without weapons, defenses or a massive Imperium War Fleet around him.

“Well, this system isn’t quite abandoned anymore,” said Titus, after analyzing the sensor data. “It looks like there is a good amount of traffic between the two Waypoints. That doesn’t bode well for the Imperium having survived.”

“At the very least, for the Imperium to have retained control of this sector of space,” corrected Artifex. “I don’t see any stations, and those planets don’t look settled either.”

“Nothing in the habitable zone, no terraforming,” confirmed Titus.

“I see a cargo cog ahead of us, heading to the same Waypoint. We got lucky,” said Artifex.

“Indeed. The two Waypoints are nearly on top of each other. Only a scant 13 million kilometers. And this is the one we want, according to our records. The other is 108 million kilometers away. That’s a solid six to eight week trip between them.”

“That’s borderline long-range,” observed Artifex.

“That was borderline long-range,” corrected Titus. “We don’t know what the new normal is. If this area is no longer Imperium controlled, then multi-system trading might be more difficult, and a moderate-to-long range route such as this might actually be safer because it hits fewer star systems. And if major traders are avoiding one system or the other, local traders might be making a lot of profit off of this route that would have otherwise remained dark.”

Artifex nodded in concession. Titus’ observations were as astute as ever, one of the reasons he had been at Artifex’ side for so many centuries. The two men, despite having deep, mutual respect and admiration, simply looked at the world through different perspectives. Artifex always had an end goal in mind, and operated from the big picture view, and the bigger picture view. His actions were driven by targets to be met and plans to enact. Few actions had a single purpose, and he never lost sight of the goal lines. Titus, on the other hand, had an eye for minutia. He saw the interrelations of systems, how Person A and System B might interact, and how Object C could change that interaction. Titus excelled at pattern recognition and abstract comprehension, and could track fine details of finance and economics at a macro and micro scale.

With that segue aside, Artifex refocused his attention on the system plot. He could detect two other ships in the system. This did not, of course, preclude other ships from being present - only that any other ships here were either running dark or simply had better electronic warfare capabilities. If modern warships were spoofing their systems, Artifex did not expect to be able to find them. After all, they had a thousand years to improve on the technology of his day.

What Artifex found was two cargo cogs. One was a remarkably large one, the type that would have been owned by a rich, powerful family or consortium. It was slower than Artifex expected, but cargo cogs came in all sizes and capabilities. This one was on its way to the Waypoint that led to the more populous system. Through the Muenes Waypoint, Artifex knew there wasa star system that had, at least a thousand years prior, three populated planets.

The other, smaller cargo cog was heading towards the Waypoint leading to the Antarasel System, albeit their heading indicated that they were coming from the Waypoint leading to Muenes. From the calculated trajectories of both the small cog and the Crown’s Vigor, their paths should come close about a three day’s out from the Antarasel Waypoint. Artifex assumed that at that point, the corvette would be able to slip past it and get through the Waypoint first. He shrugged and dismissed the cog from his thoughts.

“Sixteen days travel time to the Muenes Waypoint,” said Titus. “Since we’re closer to that one than heading to Antarasel, it will be twenty-four days that direction. Last chance to change our minds and hit the bigger system first.”

Artifex shook his head. “Too likely that we will get asked lots of questions and maybe even detained. We don’t even know if we’re speaking the standard dialects anymore. A more backwater system is definitely better.”

“In the interests of keeping our capabilities unknown, then we should plan on dumping velocity and going slow through the Waypoint,” suggested Titus.

“Why- oh. Both those cargo cogs are doing deceleration burns,” came the reply.

“Imperium cargo cogs lasted around a century or so, before pitting from micrometeorites, costs of engine and systems maintenance, and general wear and tear pushed the running costs too high to ensure profitability. So we can assume that those cogs are no older a hundred years old…”

“And if they are that new comparatively, then either the non-Imperium civilizations never figured out polaritonics or phased crystal technology, or the modern Imperium lost the technology,” said Artifex. “And letting a random cargo cog see our full speed capabilities would be foolish, since that is literally our only advantage right now.”

“Exactly. Any Waypoint is an emergency escape hatch, since no one else can get through without slamming into retroburn, and we can hit at top speed.”

Because of the need to slow down, the Crown’s Vigor slipped through the Waypoint thirty-one days after entering the unnamed system, and two days in transdimensional space before exiting into the next star system. This system was equally unnamed in the navigation system’s database, for the Imperium did not name systems unless they were in active use - either because of inhabited planets, space stations, or significant military assets.

The system that Artifex and Titus had just entered had none of those things. There wasn’t a true star, per se, but a protostar that was mostly just a giant ball of condensing gas. There was no true nuclear fusion yet, and may not for another hundred thousand years. A few lumps of matter had started accreting in a loose orbit around the protostar, which someday may form into protoplanets, and eventually into planets. But all of that was millions of years away. Right now, the only true use for this system was as a stepping stone to the next Waypoint.

The two Waypoints were reasonably close together, only a scant two week trip, which pleased Artifex to no end. The longer they were in space, the more likely something they had cobbled together would come undone. It was already a risk that they had decided to head to the further system of their two choices.

“We’re picking up a signal, looks like an emergency beacon. Hmm, still basically the same mix of electromagnetic and gravitic signaling as we used,” said Titus.

“Why fix what works?” said Artifex rhetorically. “Is it the cargo cog we followed?”

“No, they’re still ahead of us, but we’ll pass them in normal space before the next Waypoint.”

“Where is the beacon coming from then?”

Titus pulled up a rough sensor map of the system onto the dashboard screen. Two purple hexagons indicating Waypoints flashed into existence, followed by two white circles to indicate the cargo cog and the Crown’s Vigor. Then a red dot, about six million kilometers off to the side, began to flash. As sensor data kept pouring in, the map continued to refine itself, showing asteroids and dense clusters of dust and elements that were condensed enough to give a return to the sensors. The red dot was in a section where the spiraling matter and asteroids made good sensor scans almost impossible.

“And we’re getting a weak radio signal,” said Titus.

“Radio? Really? No local ansible?”

“We’re not detecting any emitters,” said Titus. “If they don’t have an onboard emitter, then radio is still a reliable way to talk.”

“...please help….. oxygen... almost… really low… need… anyone… children onboard…”

The radio message repeated itself, but didn’t improve. It was a woman’s voice, and the sheer panic in her voice was enough to pull any heartstring, and galvanize a rescue effort.

“It’s a trap,” said Artifex matter-of-factly. “Set course for the next Waypoint.”

“Are you sure?” asked Titus dubiously. “Oh, new communication inbound. Ansible this time.”

“Put it up,” said Artifex.

A three dimensional holographic image of a man from the shoulder’s up appeared on the dashboard. There were visible lines of distortion throughout the image, indicating a major lack of signal clarity and quality. The man looked to be middle-aged, with a portly face made even rounder by long mutton-chop sideburns that joined up to the ring of hair circling the bald dome of his head. He wore a green monocle over one eye that glinted with light, making it an obvious information device projecting images directly into his eye. A ruffled collar and formal jacket atop it was all that was visible of his clothing.

“This is Captain Ivago of the cargo cog Fat Pony. Oh, wow, your ansible clarity is amazing! To whom am I speaking?”

“I am Captain Valerius of the Swift Summons. What can I do for you?” answered Artifex.

“Have you detected the emergency beacon in-system?” asked Captain Ivago. His accent was strange, definitely not anything at all like that of the suprans of Swiftes. Obviously, planets would have a variety of accents, but a dominant monoculture such as the Imperium had decreased local cultures, dialects and even accents to a significant degree by the time Artifex went ‘on ice’. But far more important than the accent was the fact that the man was still speaking Imperial Standard. It did not give an answer as to what had happened, but it did say, that at least here, near what had been the heart of the Imperium galactically speaking, that the influence of the Imperium was still obvious.

“I did,” answered Valerius, but he gave no further commentary.

After a long, awkward silence, Ivago spoke again. “I intend to go rescue that poor family trapped out there. Can I count on you for assistance?”

“You may not,” answered Artifex.

“What?!” said Ivago in obvious outrage. “There are innoc-”

Artifex cut off the transmission. Immediately, the transcom began to flash indicating an incoming communication request.

“So it’s a trap?” said Titus.

“Yes, as I was trying to say before our dear friend Captain Ivago called us. The signal is originating from a place that is naturally hard to sweep with sensors at a distance, and probably not very well up close either. It is close enough to the common path between the Waypoints for a kindhearted ship’s captain to consider going out of their way to help. And yet, it’s far enough away that a slow cargo cog would have trouble escaping once they found trouble,” reasoned out Artifex.

“You present a convincing case, Imperator,” said Titus.