They made the ride back to the surface in silence.

Blye refused to answer questions regarding her experience, so Spata Zhai and Akuum Wuzah waited until they were free of the vault. As they exited the structure they were forced to come to a halt, their pathway blocked by the now sizable crowd that had gathered in their absence. All conversation ceased as they reappeared, with anxious faces eagerly waiting for news of their discovery.

Amar was at Blye’s side in a heartbeat. “What happened?” he asked her.

She shook her head, refusing his question, before turning to the Ixian. “You were right,” she told him, “this place is a threat. Seal it up, bury it, do whatever it takes, but no one else goes in there.”

“What did you see?” he whispered, as a trickle of fear showed in his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter,” she answered. “This place is dangerous; to you, to me, to the entire Perseus Arm. No one should have access to what’s down there.”

“But think of the knowledge to be gained!” Akuum Wuzah protested. “You must have learned something!”

She glanced at the engineer. “Only that some secrets come at too high a price.” She turned her attention back to Spata Zhai. “Seal the vault. That’s an order.”

The crowd parted before her as Blye and Amar made their way through the throng, as they headed back to the clinic.

“... you’re telling me there’s a Precursor computer down there, filled with information from that ancient race… and you just want to bury it?”

Amar stared at her, incredulous. “This could be the opportunity we’ve been waiting for!” he said frantically. “It could end the Yīqún threat forever! It could break the Troika’s grip on the galaxy!” He stepped forward, gripping her shoulders in desperation. “It could lead us to Terra Nova. We can't just give all that up. We can’t.”

Blye wrestled free from his grasp, glaring at him. “This isn't some magical genie we’re talking about, here to grant your fondest wish. That thing is Pandora's box, nothing less, filled with evils you can’t even begin to imagine.”

Prash started to protest, only for her to immediately shut him down. “You’ve both seen firsthand the damage even the hint of that knowledge can do,” she reminded them. “Have you forgotten everything we went through on Gyrfalcon?” Blye asked him point blank. “Samara, the Eleexx, the attack on Freya?”

“No, of course not, but…” he began, only to have her turn to the other Knight.

“And you… everything that happened on Sonoitii Prime was because of the Precursors, and what they knew. It’s the reason the Alliance even exists, to fight the Troika’s attempt to seize total power.” She stepped forward, eyeing him coldly. “If it weren’t for the Precursors… Sergeant Kai and the others would still be alive.” Amar winced and turned away. Blye just shook her head. “Once you start down that road, there is no going back. We seal the vault. End of discussion.”

It was clear the pair still had plenty to say on the subject, but they held their tongues for now. “That still leaves us with that other matter,” Prash reminded her. “What are we going to do about the Aggaaddub?”

“We’ll have to accelerate our plans,” she said, changing gears. “I’ve been researching the medical databases, and I think I’ve hit upon a disease that’s certain to get their attention. It’s documented to affect reptilian species, and unless treated immediately carries a thirty percent fatality rate. Bacteriophagic plasmosis.”

Amar gave off a low whistle. “Yeah, that would do it all right,” he agreed. “And what happens if it jumps quarantine, or worse, one of them actually dies?”

“That’s a risk we’ll just have to take,” she said, though it was obvious she was unhappy about it. “With what we know now, we need to get them off this planet, and the surest way to do that is to scare them off. Once they show symptoms, we immediately institute quarantine, and inform them our supplies are limited. We tell them that if they truly wish to be safe, they should re-enter the stasis pods and seek medical assistance elsewhere. Someplace more advanced. I think they’ll buy that. Let’s face it, they never wanted to come here in the first place.”

Prash slowly nodded his head. “Still a risk, though. If they catch on…”

“They can’t,” Blye hissed. “The stakes are too damn high. They can’t ever know what we’ve done to them, which means it’s up to us to really sell it. One mistake, one slip up, and they’ll level this camp.”

“I don’t like this,” Amar admitted, “but you’re right, we don’t have any other options.”

“At least we know now they can’t access the vault directly,” Prash pointed out, “though I’ll be damned if I can understand why. What’s so special about us Terrans?” he asked them.

“I wish I knew,” Blye said sincerely. “I can’t think of a single reason why our DNA is the key that opens the lock. When the Precursors disappeared a billion years ago? Our ancestors had just split off from fungi.” She shook her head, dumbfounded. “There is no scientific reason that would explain why we can access the vault.”

“... the pilot,” Prash said suddenly, snapping his fingers. “You know, the one that discovered Terra Nova, back during the war… Tsvetanov,” he recalled. “Is that how he got past the planet’s defenses? And why no one else has ever managed it? Because they didn’t have the right DNA?”

The trio stared at one another, wide-eyed. “If that’s true,” Blye said carefully, “then that would mean there has to be some sort of connection between the Precursors and us. A… genetic link, of some sort. But how? Better yet, why?”

“Could it be like the old Adam and Eve myth?” Prash wondered aloud. “Maybe there was a Precursor ship that crash-landed on Earth millions of years ago, and we’re descended from them.”

“That can't be right,” Blye answered. “The historical and biological texts all agree… humans were genetically related to all life on Earth. If this was some castaway scenario, there'd be an anomaly. Our DNA would stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Then you explain it,” Amar challenged her. “How is it no one but Terrans can make this stuff work?”

“I don’t know!” she exclaimed. “If what you're saying is true, it would had to have happened much further back… back when Terran life was still just single cells. You’re talking two, three billion years ago!”

There was a pregnant pause, as they all considered that. “The Oivu said they disappeared a billion years ago,” Prash said, “but did they ever mention how long they were around before that?”

“Not that I’ve ever heard,” Blye said finally, “and we probably know more than most.”

“So… it is possible then,” Amar said in disbelief. “They could have landed on Earth and seeded the planet with their DNA.”

“But why?” Blye demanded, “and why just Earth?”

“Maybe it was an accident,” Prash shrugged. “We’ll probably never know. I’ll bet even that computer has no idea… after all, when it was built, we didn’t exist yet.”

“... you know what this means,” Amar said suddenly. “Terrans just got a lot more valuable.”

“Yeah… as hostages,” Blye shuddered. “Or worse, guinea pigs.”

“This quarantine idea better work,” Prash said quietly, “or else our lives won’t be worth a blown fuse.”

It took a full day to incubate enough of the bacilli to begin infecting the Aggaaddub. Once that was accomplished, the question of how they would transmit the disease became the big question. They could inject the disease into those under their care directly, but if only the patients got sick, suspicion would immediately fall on the Knights. The Troika were no strangers to biological warfare, especially given the Ipqi Exclusion Zone that was only now being brought under control at the expense of tens of billions of lives. The plague had shown a frightening ability to mutate and jump species with almost reckless abandon… so much so that it had to be something created in a laboratory.

They considered insects as a vector, but the inherent complexity of finding a compatible species and using it to infect the Aggaaddub was simply too big a task and take far too long to implement. Simply releasing it in the air wouldn’t work either, as the disease couldn’t survive long enough in that environment to do any good. In the end, they fell back on the old standby, contaminated water. Given the number of issues they’d already faced with their water supply, it would be an easy enough sell, or so they hoped.

Three days later, the first symptoms appeared.

Nyanzvi Jenkai, the Aggaaddub patient Blye had operated on, began complaining about being cold, shivering constantly despite the seasonably warm temperatures. They brought in blankets and heaters to make him more comfortable. As ectotherms, reptiles can’t raise their internal body temperature to fight infection the way warm-blooded creatures can. Instead, they exhibit “Behavioral fever”, seeking heat to do the job externally. The vomiting and diarrhea followed shortly thereafter, earning Blye a visit from Kaihautu Yugha himself.

“I demand to know what is causing this!” the alien commander thundered. “I also hear that other members of my crew are reporting similar symptoms, and yet you do nothing!” He leaned in, once again towering over her. “If you value this camp and its occupants, heal them at once!”

“I have to find out what’s causing it,” she protested, trying not to let his intimidation tactics overwhelm her. “We’ve already obtained specimens to determine the type of infection, but it will take time. Meanwhile, we’re doing everything we can to treat their symptoms.”

His eyes bore into hers. “I find this all to be very suspicious,” he snarled. “My crew were healthy when they arrived, which leads me to the conclusion they were infected here. Perhaps... even deliberately.” He growled menacingly at her as a drop of saliva landed on her shoulder.

Blye swallowed nervously. “In fact, your crew were not healthy when they arrived,” she pointed out. “They were suffering from a host of injuries, not to mention radiation poisoning in several cases, all of which can seriously compromise the immune system. I agree they most likely were infected after their arrival, but… look around you, Kaihautu,” she argued, “look at the conditions I’m forced to work under. I am doing the very best I can here, but this isn’t a Core World Trauma Hospital. Opportunistic infections, I regret to say, are one challenge I am forced to deal with daily.”

She took a moment to calm herself before continuing. “If you are concerned about the welfare of your crew, you still have the option of returning them to stasis. That will protect them until they can be transported elsewhere and treated in a more clinical setting.”

With a roar, the hulking lizard lashed out, smashing a nearby cabinet to splinters with a single blow. Blye flinched and shied away as she was pelted with fragments, while the Kaihautu glowered at her once more.

“Repairs to our ship are still ongoing,” he snarled, “leaving us stranded here until we can complete them, otherwise I would gladly act upon your suggestion,” he snapped at her.

“Even if you’re unable to leave, you can still return them to their pods,” she advised him. “Until we know what this thing is, it’s the safest course of action. However, in the interim, I must place you, your crew, and this clinic under quarantine, in order to prevent the infection from spreading.”

“What?” he bellowed with rage. “A moment ago you were urging us to depart, and now you intend to hold us prisoner?” A massive paw grabbed her by the collar and yanked her off her feet while his claws raked her chest. “You… intend to hold me captive?” Blye struggled in his grasp, but was powerless to stop him. “And just how do you intend to accomplish that, puny Terran?”

“I hoped… to appeal… to your… sense of… understanding,” she gasped. “An epidemic… serves... no one,” Blye attempted to reason with him, though she feared he had no concerns about the disease spreading to other races. His massive head loomed large before her, the stink of his breath filling her nostrils as he glared at her in dark fury.

Blye closed her eyes and whispered, “... Holy Mother Terra, be my staff and my shield, in our hour of need,” as she waited for the Troika commander to decide her fate.

With a roar, he flung her aside, sending her crashing into the wall. Blye landed in a heap, bruised but not seriously injured, as a shadow loomed over her. “Those of us not afflicted will return to our ship,” he said at last, “while you devise a cure for those under your care.” He turned to depart, as she let out a sigh of relief… only to freeze as he faced her once more.

“I hope for your sake my crew does not come to harm,” he hissed, “for if they do… it will be your refugees who suffer.”

Blye managed a trembling nod as he stormed out of the clinic.

The aging freighter approached Taing’zem, scanning the planet as the crew went about their duties. Suddenly, the pilot double-checked their readings before turning to the captain.

“Sir, I’m reading a Troika vessel in high orbit,” they reported. “It appears to be damaged.”

The captain leaned forward. “How badly damaged?” he asked. “Are they a threat?”

“It is difficult to say,” the pilot replied. “Their engines are cold, their reactors at minimal power. It looks as if they are conducting repairs.” The pilot scanned closer. “The weapons’ signatures on the damaged sections seem to be Yīqún.”

“I see.” The captain rested his chin on his hand. “Which of the three races does the ship belong to?”

The pilot, Okaat, turned in his chair. “It is an Aggaaddub vessel, captain.”

Captain Shunaadh, of the Bamidh freighter Taisen Jit, smiled.

“So, the Troika have come to pay a visit to our old friends, the Terrans,” he chuckled. “Interesting… very interesting indeed…”