“The truth often has many different faces.”

***Deep Space***

***Antioch***

I walk through the corridors of the large ship which Silith and I named Haven. That's because the ship's main purpose is to provide us with a home. The name made sense at the time, but I have a feeling that Guardian would have made more sense because our future will surely include fighting.

Keeping my pace to an easy step, I concentrate fully on my senses. There is the faint noise of electronics, a capacitor which is pushed to its limits. Some transformer which does its best to provide energy for the lights on the corridor. In the background, I can hear the steady humming of the warp engines and the fusion reactor.

It has been three months since we discovered the empty protein tank and assumed that there must be a stowaway on the ship. Of course, we searched the vessel in its entirety and devised several ways to keep track of what's happening inside the ship. From internal sensors to giving our drones specific orders to attack anything that isn't us.

For days nothing of note happened, and we started searching for other explanations regarding the empty tank.

Then some medical supplies disappeared from the storage area and the both of us went paranoid, fearing the safety of our kids. Silith didn't leave their side, while I was expected to deal with the problem.

Indeed, I did everything that came to mind.

Unable to find the thieves, I decided to flush them out. From evacuating the air from large parts of the ship to spreading poisonous gas and radiating entire sections of the ship. I am quite sure that I killed every bug and innocent microbe on the entire vessel. It's as sterile as it can be.

Nonetheless, little things kept disappearing. From the aforementioned supplies to articles of daily convenience. At least the thieves don't seem to be malevolent... yet. Who knows what might happen if they turn bolder. Their uncanny ability to stay out of sight and off the radar is unprecedented. Even the pirate database couldn't provide us with any clues to the nature of these events, even though it is very generous on subjects like alien races and mysterious happenings in space.

Of course, there are as many different species in the universe as there are habitable planets... and apparently, there are a lot of those. Far more than any database may cover. Who is to say that there isn't a rare breed which is exceptional at hiding? On the other hand, pirates should be very interested in knowing who they rob. It wouldn't do to board a vessel, just to find out that the crew has a taste for pirate.

I refuse to believe that we somehow got ghosts or gremlins on our ship, which are apparently famous beings in the mythology of many space-faring species. I read some of the creepier stories, but according to the database that's all those tales are. Stories. Yet, up until now, I have no other explanation for what is happening on the ship.

Today, I am following one of the rare sensor echoes, which are recorded from time to time. They show up and when I go to investigate I find nothing. Stepping slower, I raise my trusty molecular blade and edge around the corner of the corridor.

There it is! The door to one of the storage rooms is slightly ajar. It's a room with only one entrance. There should be no way out. Chuckling evilly, I advance quickly, feeling like this mystery will be solved any moment.

“Now I have you, thieves!” I kick open the door and storm into the room, yelling a primeval warcry. All that greets me is a mostly empty room, aside from some crates. Cursing, I stomp my foot on the ground. I am starting to feel inadequate in my job as the protector of this vessel and my family. Not willing to give up, I start a thorough search which lasts for several minutes, but it becomes quickly clear that the thief escaped.

My rant is interrupted by a noise from outside the storage room. I quickly check the map, which is updated in real time. The sensors show two warmth-signatures on the corridor, directly in front of the room.

With my blade ready, I charge outside, sure that the mystery will be solved any second.

Digging in my heels, I come to a dead halt, almost colliding with the two little humanoid figures. “Samuel, Minerva! What are you two doing on the lower levels!? Where is your mother? You know that you aren't supposed to come here.”

The two toddlers look at me with innocent expressions. Their rapid development is thanks to the fact that Silith somehow used her design ability to shorten their infancy. I don't know what I would have done if I had to change their soiled beddings for more than two weeks until they became clean. The first few days were hell on us parents, as the two babies required a lot of attention. Even the babysitter-drone had trouble keeping up.

Minerva looks up at me with her big, round eyes, sucking on her thumb and holding onto Samuel's clothes. Instead of answering in child-talk, they look at each other, clearly plotting their next actions. Agreeing on a plan, they both step forward and hug my legs at knee-height.

“Mama was boring!”

“Play hide and seek with Papa!”

I ready myself to reprimand them when I get a mind to mind connection request from Silith. 'Gone!'

'Gone? Was something else stolen!?' I reply.

'Yes! The kids! I swear, I only turned around for a moment to deal with some of the ship's functions and they disappeared!' she replies with her feelings of fright and terror added to the communication.

'Don't worry. They are with me. They must've followed when I went to investigate the sensor echo,' I reassure her.

'Oh, those little, devious miscreants! I told them not to move from the spot! Just wait. They will get a hard lecture from me.' She cuts the connection, clearly already planning a proper punishment for the twins.

“Are you mad?” Minerva looks up at me, giving me her best innocent-child-expression.

I sigh and stow away the molecular blade. “No, but you should better prepare an apology for your mother. She is fuming that you ran off like that.” Steeling my voice, I look down at them. “And I am not happy either. It's dangerous down here. There are all kinds of things which you could hurt yourselves with. You have to be careful. At least until you have your own hardware backups.”

They look at the ground. Both of them are clearly ashamed of themselves.

Sighing, I decide that my hunt was yet another failure. No matter what I do, I seem to be unable to catch the culprit. Once, I even stripped naked and tried to rely on my skin's camouflage ability in an attempt to ambush the thief. All I got from it was a cold butt and three days of lurking in the storage area which I could have spent in Silith's warm embrace.

After checking the corridor and the storage room one last time, I close the door and make my way back to the living quarters. Samuel and Minerva use the chance for a ride, clinging to my legs while I walk. They liked to do that ever since they became strong enough to hold onto me without falling off.

We reach the living quarters, where Silith promptly picks the two hyperactive kids from my legs like ripe fruits, lecturing them about the dangers of not listening to their parents. After a tirade which would have made even me rethink my actions, she sends them back to their rooms.

The two younglings trot off with hanging heads, almost as if they had been beaten. Somehow I am glad that at least Silith is able to reprimand them. I never manage to make that much of an impression on them. And if it seemed like I got my point across, they went back to their usual aloof selves in no time, the lecture forgotten.

Still huffing and puffing, she turns to me. “Anything?”

“No,” I grumble. “Whatever they are, they are sneaky as hell and sturdy as vermin. Silith, please don't take this the wrong way, but make sure not to let the twins out of your eyes the next time I go to the storage area. I almost hurt the kids when they showed up on the sensors, thinking that they were our ghosts.”

“I am sorry, but you have no idea how quick they can be. They may look and behave like cute, little tadpoles, but once you turn your back on them they turn into lightning streaks!” She spreads her hands helplessly. “I did just a few seconds of maintenance on the ship's network. That's all it took.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. It's not like they didn't pull the same stunt on me.” I rub my temples. “This would be so much easier if we knew what's going on. You know, maybe we should just ask for G.O.D.'s assistance? Between you and me, we still have two boons. Maybe using one of-”

“Waste a boon on this?” She furrows her forehead. “I admit that we ran out of ideas, but is that really a reason to waste a powerful boon? As it's now, the situation might be stressful to us, but it's nowhere near a life-threatening situation. If the lost items stay within reasonable limits, we can deal with it.”

I scratch my head. Silith is right when she says that wasting a boon on this is stupid. “I know, but this situation grates on my nerves! How can they hide and at the same time survive everything I throw at them.”

We bicker for a while longer, no smarter than we were before. Finally, we decide to split up in order to follow our own agendas. Silith spends a lot of time on the two levels which make up the hydroponic garden, while I tend to the fusion reactor and make sure that the anti-matter is stored correctly.

Weeks of sneaking around the ship created and tempered the habit of making no noise when I walk, and so I unconsciously fall into that behaviour on my way towards the engine room. The Nano-Workers are fine for pure maintenance, but with anti-matter around, I don't want to take any risks.

On the way, I pass my daughter's room, where I witness something strange. The door to the room isn't completely closed, so I take a quick look inside.

Minerva is standing on her tiptoes on a stool. She has both of her hands on the computer terminal, of which there is a similar one readily available in every living room of the ship. The terminal is positioned at the far wall, but not really intended for a child, so she needed the stool to boost her up. She has her back to me, and so she doesn't notice it when I slowly approach from behind, entering the room carefully.

The terminal's screen isn't showing anything sensible. I almost dismiss the seemingly random sequence of ones and zeros as a child's first attempt to connect with hardware. That should make me proud, just as when Minerva and Samuel spouted their first words and managed to form their first sentences a mere month after their birth.

Already averting my eyes to sneak away, I suddenly recognize the code. It's the unique encryption method which Silith and I established between each other, and our daughter is clearly trying to crack it. Why would she try to do that? How would she know how to do it? My mind still reeling, I request a connection with Silith and send her a stream with what's happening.

Then I add a quick explanation to make sure that my mate knows what's going on. The acknowledgement that Silith received the message comes mere moments later when my mate slams the door to Minerva's room open. The heavy door, which is supposed to seal automatically in case of a pressure loss, cracks with loud metal 'clang' against the wall.

Startled, the girl's whole body twitches, causing her to jump several centimetres into the air.

She turns around, finding two adults four times her size looming over her, their gazes fixed on the screen behind her. Turning towards us, she seemingly accidentally deactivates the terminal when her hand brushes over the controls. She expectantly spreads her hands wide and grins, hoping for us to pick her up. If this had been a genuine first attempt at connecting with a computer, we would surely do just so.

Sadly, it was something quite different, and I am not sure that I like the implications. Not one bit.

When the silence and our inaction turn awkward after a few long seconds, Minerva lowers her hands and puts on a hurt expression. If I hadn't just witnessed something not very innocent about the child, I would have believed her. That child is good, or should I call her an agent?

“Answers!” Silith demands. For the first time since knowing her, her voice sounds clearly angry.

I can understand her. I am no less enraged and if my worries turn out to be true, I honestly don't know what I'll do. There are so many terrible fantasies I could spin out of this situation that I don't even know where to start.

Minerva doesn't give up and puts on quite the show. Her quivering chin, shaking body, tears and all. “Mom still angry?”

“I'll show you angry!”

Before I can stop her, Silith grabs Minerva and digs her knuckles into the child's temples, kneading them with enough force to make the child squeal. “Uwaaargh!”

The noise clearly attracts Samuel's attention and I hear the 'pit-a-pat' of little feet approaching. The boy looks into the room, his eyes flicking from his sister, to Silith, to me. For a moment, he clearly forgets his childlike demeanour and his expression turns calculating.

Noticing my attention, he turns to flee.

When Silith growls for me to catch him, I am already moving.

Samuel has no chance in his little body and I catch up easily. He managed less than ten metres when I grab his clothes at the neck and lift him up. At first, he doesn't realize that he is already caught, and so his feet paddle helplessly through the air.

I turn us around in order to head back to Minerva's room when his sister emits a squeal of agony.

Clearly not as stubborn or as willing to tolerate pain, Samuel starts shaking his head and wildly flails with all his limbs. “I'll talk! I'll talk! Just don't let Mom get her hands on me!”

Snorting, I return him to Minerva's room, where his sister is still resisting her mother's interrogation. The girl's head is bright red, but she still refuses to break.

“We will simply wait until your sister is ready to spill, and then it's your turn. We'll need confirmation.” I sigh. “After having learned a few things about females, I suppose that this exchange between mother and daughter will take a while.”

Samuel looks up at me, hope in his eyes. “But we are men! We can talk about things! We aren't so barbaric.” He uses his little fist to punch my thigh in a companionable way.

I look down at him.

He stopped flailing and is now just dangling in his flabby clothes. “Right? Dad? No reason for violence!?”