Nightmare hissed loudly as she reached the end of the data trail, retreating as quickly as she could to keep her exposed tendril out of the high end security measures waiting at the other end. She had chased down a highly illegal, but well hidden, trail of transfers through a series of planets, space stations, fleets, governments and one classified and supposedly non-existent agency.

She hadn't gone straight through those, that would have been beyond stupid. The firewalls and security programs waiting for intrusions would have spotted her attempts at infiltration immediately. There was no way to subtly enter those dataspaces, but then again she didn't need to. She was merely following the trail, not diving into it, which was pushing her abilities to their limits but she had succeeded, even if it had been a close call on a few occasions.

She had been lucky as well, for if the intelligence agency hadn't been relying on a single data connection with the wider web she would have lost the trail. It wasn't a mistake on their part, against sentient intruders and traitors limiting your ins and outs to a singular point made defending it significantly easier. Against an AI, a being that was nothing but code, it was a weaknes she had greedily exploited.

As she gathered her extended consciousness into something more cohesive she eyed the obstacle she had bumped into. It was an impressive network of security nodes, firewalls, anti-malware programs and a whole other plethora of nasty traps and dormant systems that were just waiting for a hacking attempt. It was one of the most impressive defences she had ever witnessed and she had clashed headfirst with an SI that had been running a dreadnaught once.

This wasn't an opponent she was going to toy with and she needed information before making her next move. A hell of a lot more. Most of her 'mind' was focused on her main objective, the shell companies she'd need to set up a massive array of sensors to keep watch over Litash, but enough was left to circle around the gargantuan fortifications. She cast open her net, jumping from network to network, but it was hard to track down. Whatever the place was, it had to have some sort of digital footprint outside it's protected sphere.

It was difficult to explain what she was doing in human terms. Still, she had reports to write, even if she wasn't planning on informing Mentuc about this. Yet. So that meant going through the painstaking process of prepping a full briefing. How to translate it, though? Infiltrating dataspace wasn't akin to a recon mission. What was close by in digital space didn't mean it was the same in realspace. She couldn't actually see what she was approaching. She followed a specific pair of footsteps that constantly changed but retained some similar core that was recognisable to her, not entirely dissimilar to a dog following a scent, even if everything else changed. She knew the chase had lead her here, to this insurmountable barrier, but just what it was she did not know. She could hazard a guess, though. She would have to backtrack her steps, log everything that went into the barrier and then check the datanet for similarities. A gargantuan task with little chance of success.

Unless you know what to look for, she sang, giddy with excitement. And it just so happens that I do.

When she was flesh and blood she had never been able to take joy in her duties, lacking the appropriate emotions for it. As a digital sapient, however, she experienced the same thrills that soldiers throughout the ages had when dealing with high risk operations. It was exhilarating to run her awareness past countless processor and enjoy the electronic equivalent of an adrenaline rush as she weaved in between security protocols, defence orientated databases and computer cores. Inquiries were launched towards her presence as she zipped past, shrugging them off or responding to their pings with false data of her own, sating their curiosity and assuring them nothing was amiss. She infected nodes, left a sliver of dormant code behind. A lookout that would warn her if important information would pass through it. Her awareness grew as her touch reached more and more stations.

She was grateful that the discovery of FTL data transmission hadn't died alongside the Empire. Massive, automated space stations powered gy gigantic generators kept a tiny breach open in the anomaly that hyperspace was, constantly sending and receiving data through it. There was a bit of lag on it which grew worse the further its counterpart was located, but it still allowed for information to be transferred from one system to another at an incredible pace.

It feels strange, she said to the empty ship. It isn't like being in two places at once, I'm more than used to that. I'm in a lot more places than just two. No, this is like witnessing a drunk clone stumbling about, one you share sentience with, but with time lag added on top of it. It is distressing in a way. My conscious on the other side is incredibly vulnerable compared to the me here and doesn't have the same defensive capabilities. It shouldn't worry me overmuch given that I didn't transmit any data about who or what I am, but any strand of code that is part of me will cause no small bit of consternation if found. AI code is... peculiar. Unique.

Still, even a 'vulnerable' part of her conscious had defences that only dedicated programs could deal with if they had to go after her rather than the other way around, so she was content to sit back and let her code crawl around, infecting stations, computers, snuck through firewalls and nested in unused bits of dataspace. Once she had a proper awareness on the other side she started doing reconaissance. Her strength was directly relative to how much computing power she had at her disposal. The more power in a single location, the more dangerous she became, at least when it came to digital warfare. Since she didn't have a dedicated hub or processor all to herself, she had to make do with 'rented' space, weakening her tremendously. She'd have to get hold of some shell companies there as well to get her something more secure.

No place like home, after all, she joked to her non-existing audience.

She looked at the large datafield in front of her and started making similar preparations as to the ones she had made on Litash, albeit on a much smaller sale. She started making herself at home, drawing out the name of the system her target was in.

Guran. And in it a small outpost on the only inhabitable planet, even if it barely deserves the title. She whistled, impressed by what she found. This planet redefines the concept of sandstorms. Strips the flesh right of the bones if you're caught in a bad one. I wonder what happened there to reduce the planet to such a state. There's not a lot left in the ways of infrastructure. I am surprised to find myself being curious about it. It doesn't have anything to do with mission parameters. I wonder if this is Onoelle's influence. The more I am exposed to humans, the more I find myself taking after them. Genesis never had this problem. We did the job and only the job. Curiosity isn't an emotion I'd have ever imagined associating myself with.

She let out a dry laugh, which intensified when she realised just how much she was talking to herself these days. She had known it, her sensors and self-diagnostics didn't miss a single thing, but she hadn't been aware. A subtle but telling difference. She focused her attention back on her sensor data as she pulled up old maps of Guran.

Correctional Facility Guide Towards Eden. What a prosaic name for a prison complex. Pretty good security though. Defence satellites, patrol cutters, some corvettes and two cruisers in case of a hostile attack, because apparently having a network of kill-sats isn't good enough. Point defence turrets, missile silos, gun batteries, anti-ship cannons, far more weaponry than a prison has any right to have. And that is just what is visible. No clues about what lays hidden underneath those armour plates. I can't wait to bring in some proper monitoring equipment. Its energy profile will provide me with quite an intriguing read.

She eyed the map a bit longer, running it through her processors and dissecting it with her intellect, drawing more information from it than any sentient ever could. She tracked the freighter that showed up at a random time, but at least once a month and saw how it docked, how it was escorted, how long it took to transfer cargo, positions of the other vessels in the vicinity and how the weapons of both the satellites and the space station swivelled during the entire process.

All that to protect a few psionic prisoners. Not criminals, not all of them at least, but prisoners none the less. For whom good money is paid to keep them locked away. From too many systems at once to connect it to a single government, and all done in secret. How peculiar. How interesting.

She purred as she dedicated a significant part of her awareness fully on it. She'd build her own little base on the surface and launch a few intel gathering ops from there. That station would be hers, sooner rather than later.

She'd take the station, would 'free' the prisoners and then all the mysteries in regards to a prison complex that had no viable reason to exist would be hers.

It was well past midnight when the tiny earpiece tucked deep away in Mentuc's ear pinged softly. The female voice on the other end didn't bother to introduce herself. There was only one person whom had access to this link. He didn't visibly react to it, nor did he give a response. He merely pressed the long stake into the ground and checked the rope that led from it towards the tent, finding it sufficiently tight. His senses were sharp and ready, but in a comfortable way.

He wasn't actively hunting for anything out of the ordinary, merely passively observing, something he only did when he felt secure. Jane had been rendered moot as a threat, too destabilised to take even his wife off guard, unwilling to assault Cassy and constantly watched by Nightmare. Cassy, the second newcomer, was a known variable and was strangely loyal to him. Something he did not fully understood, but he could certainly work with it. He did not mind her presence much.

Physically she somewhat resembled his wife, even if it was a much younger version, but mentally the likeness was uncanny. The major difference was that Onoelle's character had exploded outwards during her student years, only to be tempered severely after she met him, as opposed to Cassy, whose aggressive curiousity was much more direct in nature. The eldest sister wanted to know how people thought and touched their buttons to see how they would react, especially if they told her off. The younger one simply wanted to know everything, but listened when she received a solid no.

In short both people that were now living with him, one for a prolonged period of time, the other for a short while, were tolerable. The invasion of privacy didn't bother him overmuch. There had been missions where he had shared a single room with hundreds of people before. The only downside of it was that displays of intimacy between him and Onoelle had to be toned down until they were alone. Or rather, from his side at least. His wife seemed significantly less troubled by it, but then again she often used them with an ulterior motive in mind. It was not something he minded.

He kept working on the tent, soft footsteps and a minor rustling of leaves informing him that his wife was approaching him long before she spotted him. The way her breath whispered through her mouth and the gentle sound of the green undergrowth trickling across the fabric of her clothes and her skin told him that it was her long before he could pick up her unique scent. It simultaneously told him that she hadn't changed into her nightwear yet, given that the sound was too rough for it and her breathing hadn't been quickened by the cold. He waited for her, delaying his work on the final stake so that he remained on one knee. Onoelle audibly quickened her pace and let herself fall on his back, arms wrapped tightly around him. She smelled tired and her deep sigh confirmed it. He moved his hand up and tenderly squeezed hers. She lovingly returned the gesture and as her head rested against his neck he could feel the corners of her lips twitch upwards in a soft smile.

'Jane is... tiring to deal with,' she began, exhaling deeply as she rubbed her nose against his short hair. 'I love her to bits and she is my best friend, but she's stubborn and unmoving about some things. I think you scared the ability to reason out of her. She seems to be in deep shock.'

He felt her frown.

'Deeper than I thought possible. For her, at least. I'm tempted to guess it is because you threatened her with physical violence and people can respond strangely to that, but I'm not entirely convinced. There seems to be something else at play and I don't like that I can't think of what.'

He remained quiet, letting her speak. He was woefully ignorant when it cames to the matters of human psyche and he had long ago understood that his wife often spoke her thoughts aloud, bounceing them off him in order to come to a conclusion. Sometimes he had even managed to help by offering her a new, alien perspective. Not this time. He knew he was out of his depth and that Onoelle was as much of an expert in this as he was in warfare.

'There seems to be two states of mind warring within her. Part of her wants to trust me, to believe that what I say is the truth, but at the same time there is a part that seems to deny everything I say, to dismiss all of it as a lie. She seems similarly split on the historical facts that you have given her and while I can't place that in any proper context, it seems to have damaged her mind somehow. As if it inflicted some form of trauma. I don't get it Mentuc, I just don't. I can't help her without understanding it properly and I hate both that inability and not being able to understand it.' She gnashed her teeth and Mentuc could hear the fire in her voice as she growled softly, something she did, most likely subconsciously, when agitated.

'I hate it.'

He nodded, understanding it. Being helpless to alter a situation was one emotion he was intimately familiar with. He had sent too many of his brothers towards their death, knowing there was no other way, seen people die that he could not save, saw an Empire and everything he was made to protect burn while being forced to run. He felt his muscles tighten and his breath quicken softly as the dark memories pressed down on him.

He decided to quell those thoughts, both within himself and his wife, in the most straightforward way possible. She was already laying on top of him and that made it easy to just slide his foot down a bit further before kicking himself up, using his back as a launching platform and throwing his wife over his shoulders. She sailed through the air with a loud whoop, taken off guard but not feeling threatened in the slightest. She crashed on top of the sturdy tent and bounced off it. Before gravity pulled her back down on top of it she felt his lips on hers. It wasn't the first time he performed such an acrobatic display of affection on her and she had no troubles adjusting, eagerly allowing him to distract her.

That came to an all too soon end when Mentuc pulled back and took a tiny technological thingy out of his ear. He did it slowly, letting her see it. She felt her heart drop. She hadn't expected Mentuc to find a way to stay in contact with their self proclaimed guardian angel, but neither did it come a as a surprise. It made sense when she thought of it and probably came as natural as breathing to her militarily minded husband to the point he hadn't even considered informing her of it, undoubtedly assuming she'd know this. Still, having Nightmare in such close proximity wasn't something she was happy about.

His large fingers gently inserted the piece into her ear. It felt warm and buzzed softly and had Onoelle been more technologically adept she'd have recognised it as the earpiece activating as it recognised its new wearer and deemed her acceptable.

'Yes?' sighed a suddenly dejected Onoelle as she took a minor bit of solace in her husband's reassuring presence.

I take it you are done cavorting with my superior? came Nightmare's cold, accusing voice.

Separated by distance and heavily influenced by Mentuc stroking her hair, she rolled her teeth back in a feral grin, eager to get back at the AI. 'As a matter of fact I was just starting.'

Oh, good, came the strange reply. The AI sounded audibly relieved. For a second I was worried you'd be in such foul mood that I wouldn't find you in a passionate moment. You know, given your lack of success with Jane.

Onoelle paled slightly at that. 'How do you know that?' she whispered, suddenly feeling very vulnerable.

Nightmare's grin was palpable. I have my ways, Onoelle. You're within my sensor range. I can see everything, she purred.

Onoelle couldn't suppress the shivers running down her back nor her face contorting in pure distaste. Almost instantly she felt her attentive husband's lips return to hers, but she couldn't kiss him back this time. She was watching.

Mentuc did that creepy thing again where he seemed to just read her mind by looking at her. 'Do not let it bother you.'

She gave him an empty smile. 'Easier said then done. It's not something I can just put out of my mind.'

He tilted his head, seemingly stuck in thought. Then he nodded with a strange kind of confidence. 'Then I will make it so your mind is otherwise occupied.'

Onoelle threw her hands in front of her face, narrowly stopping her husband's advance while blushing so hard and radiating so much heat she could swear the earpiece was going to melt. She hated how he could make such comments so damned casually! He wasn't even aware of how heavily those words impacted her. It was just so unfair! Caught between Nightmare and Mentuc like a ship in a storm, she could only try to stay afloat between the two strange sentients whenever they had moments like this.

Anyway, I have something I need to discuss with you, Nightmare said, the tone of her voice approaching zero Kelvin. Something important.

Despite the ice in the words Onoelle heard something else underneath it. She couldn't place it, but knew it made her uneasy. 'What's that then?' She looked at Mentuc who was watching her carefully, tracking both her eyes and her body at the same time, listening simultaneously to her verbal and body language.

I think you already know. Jane is not listening to reason. It piqued my interest and I searched some things. Society at large hasn't been destabilised nor have the morals changed overmuch over the past centuries.

Onoelle nodded along mutely, picking up what Nightmare was alluding towards.

No criminal system is willing to punish an innocent for the crimes of another, family relations are universally seen as something unrelated compared to crimes committed. Yet for some reason the Imperial genetic line is exempted from this. Any living being whose genetic lineage can be traced back to an Imperial match is killed and usually the executors will gladly lay waste to everyone in their victim's general vicinity. Scorched earth tactics deployed on humans. The laws aren't always overly visible, some are hidden in very fine print, but they're there. Doesn't matter where I looked, any nation has the same exceptions, some more overt than others. If you are descended from Imperials, the universe wants you to die.

Nightmare left a small break, her processors running millions of simulations on how Onoelle would react, her sensors, both within the cruiser and those installed in the tiny earpiece, feeding her the necessary telemetry.

It is most peculiar. No being as educated as Jane should retain an illogical belief when presented with the facts. You know that, don't you? The AI paused briefly again, letting Onoelle mull that over.

A soft purr slid into her voice as she continued, her simulations telling her exactly how Onoelle was feeling and taking an evil delight in it. You presented her the facts, knowing this, didn't you? Called her out on an illogical hate. And she didn't listen, did she?

'No,' Onoelle whispered, struggling to get the words out. 'She didn't.

And that isn't normal for her, is it?

'No,' she repeated, her wide open eyes fluttering over to Mentuc in worry. She could see his muscles rippling as he tightened, not understanding what was bothering her but getting ready to act none the less.

And you cannot figure out why. That wasn't a question but a statement. The AI dropped her act and became all business again. This is worrying. I saw and heard your discussion. Do me a favour and keep the datapad she uses close by whenever you engage her in debate about this. I'll prepare some additional sensors that I'll need installed. Before you are bothered by this, I do not intend to spy on you. There was something in Jane's behaviour that alarms me.

'What is that then?'

Nightmare didn't respond. She had her reasons for worrying and didn't like the way the galaxy at large seemed to carry a six centuries old grudge against the Empire, a grudge that wasn't even justified in the first place. More and more things weren't adding up, causing a rapidly growing sense of alarm to fester within the AI's mind.

You are the psychologist here. Figure it out, came the icy reply, a soft click ending the conversation.

Onoelle took the earpiece out, staring at it in confusion. Nightmare wouldn't and likely couldn't cut the connection between herself and the earpiece, but she knew that she wouldn't get any further answers out of the AI. Before she could voice her worries to Mentuc he plucked the thing out of her hand and put it back in his own ear.

She opened her mouth, suspecting Nightmare would start talking to him instantly to fill him in but he moved with startling speed and took her off guard, again, which annoyed her, by pressing his lips on hers, again. That had the exact opposite effect and with a gentle, irresistible insistence her mind was coaxed away from her worries and towards more pleasant thoughts and sensations. Her body reacted almost instinctively to it, primal desires betraying the more rational parts of her mind that wanted an explanation. She tried to resist, but to no avail. Mentuc knew her too well, physically and emotionally and knew how to touch her to make her forget about everything else and it wasn't long before she found herself carried into the tent and without clothes, although she couldn't say which had happened first.

A short while later Mentuc hovered lightly over a heavily panting Onoelle, the droplets of sweat adorning her body creating a sight he was intimately familiar with, but would never tire off.

Distract her, had Nightmare told him the moment he had put the earpiece in. The conversation was about Jane and a logical error in her thought process, one that should not be there. I asked your pet to further investigate along that line. It is of no security concern and Jane remains a non-threat. Mentuc had accepted that, taking in the information even as he was devoting most of his attention to his wife. That is all.

Then he had given Onoelle his full attention.

His fingers danced lightly across her skin, trailing from drop to drop, coaxing miniscule reactions from her as she came down from a euphoric high. He enjoyed watching her, could do so for hours if not days on end. Her eyes fluttered open, her chest still rising and sinking along the pace of her rabid breaths. Her smile was broad and honest, a twinkle in her eyes hidden by the darkness to all but his sensitive eyes.

'That wasn't fair,' she complained, reaching out to kiss him.

'If you engage in a fair fight, you are a fool,' he replied as she broke the kiss after hang run out of breath.

'So I'm an easy target then?' she huffed, reaching for the nearby blanket and pulling it across her chest in mock indignity.

He tilted his head slightly, lowering his body so he hovered just above hers, their skin lightly touching and sending a shiver down across her body. 'Well, you are incapable of putting up fierce resistance,' he teased back.

She let out a growl that ended in a giggle, taking delight in his somewhat successful attempt at humour. Then she reached out with her arms again, wrapping them around his neck.

'I'll show you just how fierce I can be,' she softly promised him.

He let his hands rest on her thighs for a bit longer, satisfied that the tension she had been feeling earlier had left her body entirely. Nightmare had told him in detail how the events that had transpired were affecting his wife, something he had a hard time understanding. He could see the effects, but not understand the cause properly. Then his sole remaining Genesis companion had told him a bit more.

In the end it was surprisingly simple to restore Onoelle's mood. She may not be a Genesis like him, but they both were very tactile people.

And luckily enough he could more than make up his other shortcomings in that specific department.