“I don’t care what the problem is, we need the rations you promised us,” Blye barked into the handset. “You’re two days behind schedule as it is, and we’re already dealing with nervous refugees threatening to take matters into their own hands. You want them marching on your capital?” She looked up as Prash entered the cramped office, holding up her hand while the Tsengju government representative sputtered in indignation on the other end of the line. “Look, you can either send us what we need,” she snapped, cutting him off once more, “or I can have the Baishain and Ixian forces attached to us requisition them at gunpoint. Your call.”

She held the receiver away from her ear as Facilitator Tsun Prang Gen vented his spleen. Blye simply waited for him to wind down before speaking back up. “There’s no way I’m letting you sweep this under the rug.” she snarled, “With one call I can ensure everyone knows the story, so unless you want to be the most infamous Tsengju in the galaxy for deliberately starving refugees to death, you’ll deliver the food we need. I expect to see your vehicles by this time tomorrow. Good day, sir,” she snapped, before ringing off.

“Still dragging his heels?” Prash guessed as she clenched her fists in frustration.

“Bureaucrats,” she hissed, “if there’s ever been a more pathetic, mealy-mouthed, spineless bunch of useless parasites, I’ve certainly never heard of them,” she sniffed. “Always trying to pass the buck and duck their responsibilities.”

“You’ll get no argument from me, but… I couldn’t help overhearing your not-so-minor threat. Much as I like Spata Zhai, I’m pretty sure his orders don’t include armed robbery.”

“Oh, I know,” she said with a weary smile, “but I’m betting the good Facilitator either doesn’t know that or isn’t willing to take the risk.”

“And when he checks in with the Ixian government?” he prompted. “Bluffs only work if they don’t call you out.”

“It’ll take time to get a message to the Ixians and receive an official reply,” she pointed out, “and by then, we’ll hopefully have enough food to get us through next month.” She shrugged, tucking back a wisp of hair. “I’ve got too much on my plate today to worry about what’s happening tomorrow.” Blye sighed, shaking her head. “What have you got?”

“Well, I don’t want to add to your burdens, but…” he began carefully.

“Spit it out, Prash,” she snapped.

He fidgeted in the doorway. “I just heard from our friend Akuum Wuzah. He was scouting a new well site, tagging along with one of the timber crews. He was surveying the area, and…” His voice trailed off as he paused, debating on what to say next.

“And?” Blye said impatiently.

Prash took a deep breath. “And… they found something.”

A small crowd was already gathering as the Knights made their way into the jungle, parting as the trio entered the clearing. Stacked logs of recently felled hardwood sat nearby as Spata Zhai approached them, the drilling engineer in tow beside him.

“I’m glad you’re here,” the Ixian said with a nod. “Word is spreading through the camp, and we're hearing some ugly rumors. I don’t need to tell you people were already on edge before this discovery.”

“I’m certain it’s nothing to be alarmed about,” Akuum explained, “merely a curiosity.”

“Show me,” Blye told them.

The pair gestured towards the edge of the clearing, towards a small bluff. “It’s over here,” the engineer told them, leading them to where an odd-looking flat surface appeared in the hillside, partially obscured by rock and soil. “The loggers found it when a fallen tree crashed into the precipice. They thought it was just a slab of bedrock at first, but they soon realized it was something else altogether.”

Cocking her head, she studied the freshly uncovered barrier. It was clearly not just a hunk of rock. While dirt and moss still covered much of its face, it was obviously something fabricated, the product of intelligence. It stood over three meters in height, peaking out in several spots as dirt and vegetation were pulled free. She was unsure what it comprised of; while her first guess had been some kind of metal, there were also mineral and ceramic aspects to it as well. Stepping forward, Blye reached out and touched the alien structure, sensing intricate patterns beneath her fingertips. As she traced out the lines and patterns on the archaic wall, she stumbled upon what appeared to be the outline of a doorway, partially obscured by mud and lichen. She looked closer, but there appeared to be no handle or mechanism to open it, nor obvious hinges or grooves to indicate how it might function.

“How old is it?” she asked in wonder.

“It’s hard to say,” Akuum told her. “There does not appear to be any weathering of the material itself but based on the geology and growth patterns of the vegetation... centuries, at least.” He paused, an uneasy expression coming over him. “Perhaps even far older.”

Blye raised an eyebrow. “Millennia?” she guessed. “That’s not so unusual in this part of the galaxy. The Troika have been around that long at least.”

The civilian grew uneasy. “It’s just that… I’ve never come across like this before,” he explained. “I’m no expert; I’m not a historian or a scientist, but…” He shot the object a nervous look. “It feels… ancient, to me.”

The young Knight took that in before turning to the Ixian. “And you? What do you think?”

The Spata’s expression was unreadable. “I agree with Engineer Wuzah’s assessment,” he said stiffly. “However, I have heard of such things,” he said darkly. “If you wish my advice... then I say bury it once more and purge your memory of its very existence.”

The three Knights just stared at him. “Why?” Amar asked in surprise. “It’s just some old shelter or something. No big deal.”

The blue-skinned alien’s eyes narrowed. “You truly do not know who built this?”

Blye froze, then gave the strange object a closer inspection. “You think it was the Precursors,” she got out, her voice suddenly low and husky.

A loud murmur flared from several members of the crowd as onlookers began backing away. “Yes, I do,” the Spata agreed, “and if I am correct, then nothing good will come of this… this thing,” he all but spat out. “If we are very lucky, the Troika will come and remove the structure from this world.”

“And if we’re unlucky?” Blye probed. “What exactly is it about the Precursors that you aren’t saying?”

“That anything associated with them is cursed,” the Ixian growled. “Death surrounds even the very world that spawned their misbegotten race, according to legend. I say shun this evil place, Chevalier Blye Tagata, lest you bring their sorcery down upon us.”

“Like the Troika are any better,” Prash muttered. The Spata gave him a terse nod, conceding his point.

The crowd, who until now had been observing this spectacle with interest, suddenly lost whatever enthusiasm they might have felt for the buried edifice. What started out as a trickle of refugees withdrawing from the area quickly became a stampede as they began running, though thankfully, no one was injured in the rush. Soon after, only the Knights, Ixians, and lone Glevack engineer remained. The Spata nodded in approval of the refugees’ prudence as they hastily decamped.

“I’d… like to examine it in more detail,” Akuum Wuzah quietly announced to the others, “though I doubt I’ll learn much. As I said, I am no scientist.”

The Deuxième mulled it over. “Spata, cordon off this area, and post a guard,” she said at last. “Limit access to the five of us.”

“Gladly,” he agreed.

“In the meantime,” she continued, turning to Akuum, “I’d also like to learn more about it. We’re not well supplied for an investigation of this nature; most of our equipment is designated for medical purposes. Still, between the two of us, we can probably cobble together something to give us a better look.”

“Don’t we already have enough on our plate?” Prash asked her.

“We do,” she agreed, “which is why I’m content to allow Mister Wuzah to take point on this.” She paused for a moment. “Just remember that the second well site still has the highest priority,” Blye reminded him.

“Of course,” he agreed. “I should be able to begin within a few days.”

“Excellent,” she smiled. “In that case, I will leave you both to your duties. Prash, Amar… with me.” She gave the two aliens a polite nod before turning on her heel and journeying back towards their makeshift hospital, as the two men fell in beside her. Not a word was spoken until they arrived at their destination, though Blye checked in briefly with Velsa Sebu, their Ksot medic enlisted from the refugees, to monitor their patients while the three humans talked.

“The Precursors,” Blye sighed, shaking her head once they’d made themselves comfortable. “As if we didn’t have enough troubles.”

“This doesn’t have to be an issue,” Prash pointed out. “If you’re right, and it is one of theirs, then that means it’s been sitting in that jungle for millions of years. We could just rebury it and forget we ever saw it.”

“Won’t work,” Amar disagreed. “You’re forgetting about the ones that found it, the timber crew. Once Spata Zhai started making dire warnings about ancient curses, they might have hauled ass out of there, but you can guarantee they’ve been telling anyone who’ll listen what they found. It must be all over the camp by now.”

“He’s right,” the Deuxième said unhappily. “We can’t simply ignore this. The question is, what do we do about it?”

“Maybe we could call the Facilitator and use it for leverage,” the former Valkyrie suggested. “Maybe get some more food and supplies out of the Tsengju.”

“Forget it,” Prash told him. “If they get wind of this, they’ll force us out and send us Terra alone knows where. They won’t want this camp or the refugees anywhere near this place.”

“They’ll move to exploit it,” Blye agreed, “or worse… use it to curry favor with the Troika. I don’t even want to think what’ll happen if they find out about it.”

“Ma’am… you’d better prepare yourself for just that possibility,” Amar said glumly. “We’ve got ten thousand refugees in this camp, and I guarantee at least some of them will gladly sell us out... especially if it comes with a ticket out of here.” A dark look came over him. “I saw it happen on Sonoitii. We lost a lot of good people when some of our so-called ‘allies’ switched sides once they were convinced the Troika were going to win.”

“We can’t let that happen,” the senior Knight stressed. “There are too many people depending on us. We’re not serving them up as sacrificial lambs: they’ve been through enough already.”

“Look, we don’t even know what it is,” Prash pointed out. “It might turn out to be nothing, or at least, nothing of value. This whole discussion could be moot.”

“It won’t matter even if that’s true,” Blye said. “Look what happened when we were on Gyrfalcon, and that was based on little more than old folklore.” She froze, and then slowly turned to Amar. “Look… there’s something Prash and I have been meaning to tell you…”

“You mean your mission to Earth?” he grinned. “Kai and Rúna told us. A lot of things just weren’t adding up, and eventually, they came clean about it.”

The other two breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank Terra,” Blye whispered. “We didn't mean to purposefully exclude you, but we’ve been trying to limit who all knows. If word ever leaked to the Troika…”

“It’s okay, I get it,” Amar shrugged. “I figured you’d bring it up when you were ready.”

“It’s big, all right,” Prash agreed, “as big as it gets. So big that it scares me at times.”

“Scares all of us,” Blye chimed in. “All right, so where does that leave us? We can try to keep this under wraps, but given how many already know about it, that’s likely to fail. If the Troika steps in to take it, we won’t be able to stop them. Not only that, but they’ll probably also do a lot of collateral damage while they’re at it. What else is left? Besides prayer, I mean.”

“We can try learning what it is ourselves,” Amar suggested. “We do that, we’ve got an edge.”

“These are the Precursors we’re talking about,” Prash fired back, “the oldest and most powerful race that ever walked the galaxy. It’d be like bacteria trying to fly a starship.”

“They weren’t gods,” Blye reminded them. “Yes, they were incredibly advanced and powerful, and yes, their homeworld and technology is still a mystery, but despite all of that, their achievements were grounded in science. Science is the only truly common language that exists, because it’s framed by the laws of our universe. It may seem like an impossible task, but somewhere out there is the answer. All we have to do is find it.”

“Something tells me it’s not going to be quite that easy,” Prash said, shaking his head. “I mean, if that thing in the jungle is a vault of some kind, how the hell do we even get inside?”

“Every door has a key,” Blye said confidently, “and so does this one. We start by using the investigative tools we do possess and studying the structure. We throw every test we can think of at it and see what they tell us.”

“And if they tell us nothing?” Amar asked.

“Then we invent new tests,” she snapped. “We do whatever it takes, and we don’t give up until we have some answers… because that’s the only way we’re going to weather the storm that’s coming.”

“I wish I had your confidence,” Prash grimaced.

“Yeah,” Blye said quietly, “... so do I.”