A teenage Leo stood in the loading bay. Just a few weeks ago, he received the primary duty designation mark on his right cheek. It was supposed to be a big deal. He had a career assignment. He had a future. He had a place. But it was not the place he wanted. The message he received the night before being given the duty assignment was short and to the point.

“You have been rejected from the Explorer Program,” it read. “Selection required a score of 600 or higher. Your score was 589.”

But the kids packing large duffel bags with everything they ever owned in their lives onto a cargo platform qualified. Among them was his friend Alex, who was now walking over to say goodbye. His uniform was the same as Leo’s with one exception. The insignia over Leo’s right pectoral was a shield behind a sword, while Alex’s featured the Explorers’ much sough-after rocket ship.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make it. I tried, I really tried,” Leo said, shaking.

“I know,” sympathetically frowned Alex. “But it’s ok. It’s not like we won’t see each other! I won’t be on Tau Ceti forever. We can stay in touch and I’m sure we’ll figure out how to see each other after the academy, right?”

Leo nervously nodded in agreement as an Attendant behind them politely cleared his throat. Alex acknowledged him with a grimace.

“Well, gotta get going,” he said. “Can’t miss my flight.”

After a quick hug and a pat on his friend’s back, he threw a large duffel bag over his shoulder and walked off towards a terminal where other cyborgs like himself were starting to gather. Leo sighed heavily and turned toward the Supervisor standing and watching the interaction with crossed arms.

“Don’t worry kid, you’re the lucky one,” scoffed the Supervisor. “I know it seems like life is over because your capacity score didn’t cut it, but don’t envy your friend. The explorer track is for lab rats. He’s going to be thrown into the unknown and at it. Whatever that mark on his right cheek says, his primary duty designation is testing the limits of human ability.”

“So why make him do it?” asked Leo. “Why make any of them do it?”

“Because someone has to, because they volunteered to do it, and because they have the best chance of surviving. We do the best we can to prepare them, but we don’t know what will happen on a mission.”

Leo looked back at his friend and other explorer candidates now boarding the spaceplane.

“We made cyborgs like you very difficult to permanently injure or kill, but that means you live through things you shouldn’t have lived through,” added the Supervisor. “It takes a certain kind of person to deal with that and not lose their mind, which is why the requirements are so strict. This is why... Well... You know what happened.”

Leo had nothing to say. They’ve all heard the rumors only to see the headlines in shock and revulsion later. A part of him wondered if that’s why Alex scored in the 800s, but he told it to shut up in the most heinous language he could think of. He hated that jealous, petty voice envying a friend for something even the suits on Earth found unacceptable.

“Come on. We should get going,” called the Supervisor while checking his watch.

He turned away and proceeded towards a large elevator with a blast door. Leo silently followed him, giving the plane and its boarding passengers one last glance.

...

The giant mobile command center from the 13th Fleet was still in orbit over Sigma Draconis 691 D. Destroyers and transports came and went, creating a steady churn of ships around the vast structure, much like similar fleets did whenever they went in their new campaign to re-unify humanity with the power of warp drives and technology.

Christine stopped by the entrance to the infirmary just as Alex walked out with a few small adhesive bandages on his face, and his rolled-up sleeves showing one on his left forearm.

“Hey Alex, how are you feeling?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” he shrugged. “Just got a few scratches barely worth the adhesive on them. Honestly, I didn’t even want to go in but as a prototype, I don’t have a choice. They have to examine me after every mission. How are you doing?”

“Still in one piece after my first actual engagement. No, wait. Would it be my second?”

“Yeah, technically it would be your second. See? Already becoming a badass with combat experience.”

He flashed her a warm,, goofy grin, and scratched the back of his head, lost in thought for a just moment.

“All right, I gotta grab something to eat and get back to work,” he finally said and started heading down the corridor.

Christine looked on, hesitating, unsure how to say what she wanted to say, but Alex suddenly stopped and turned back to her.

“By the way Christine, excellent work on Psi Cygnus,” he said. “I mean it. I’m glad you didn’t get hurt, but we really don’t want to put you in danger like this again.”

He turned around and headed to the mess hall.

“Alex, wait,” said Christine. “Okay, yes, Steve and I don’t know what’s going on or even why we’re on this base right now. But after what you told me and what we’ve seen, we just... We can’t just sit here and let it happen again. We’re our base’s top comms and engineering specialists. We both did three rotations. We want to... We need to help.”

Alex froze without turning around.

“I understand,” he acknowledged after a pause. “Meanwhile, like Dot said this morning, if you decide to go back to your home, you’re free to do so whenever you want.”

...

Steve sat in the corner of a long, large couch with a cup of tea on an armrest cup holder, reading a tablet. Three imposing figures blocked his light, prompting him to instinctively look up to a trio of imposing military cyborgs dressed in duty uniforms; Leo, Alice, and Sergio.

“Steve Robbins?” asked Leo.

“Yes?” croaked Steve, his heart beginning to race.

“I’m Leo Anand. This is Alice Sage and Sergio Gian. We’re members of the 13th’s Principal’s Committee which oversees mission planning and day-to-day operations of the fleet’s ships and bases. We were looking for you and your partner, but she seems otherwise occupied at the moment.“

“I’m a little surprised that such a... distinguished group would be interested in us. How, uh, can I help you?”

“You see, there’s a tradition for those who successfully complete their first special operations mission behind enemy lines,” said Alice, as she smiled ominously, revealing a fang. “As part of our duties, we encourage certain traditions to be followed to boost morale and wanted to invite you to participate.”

Steve swallowed hard and put down his tablet.

“Yeah... I... uh... of course, will participate...” he managed to get out.

...

In the outpost below, Ingrid sat in her office with Izzy. The mission commander heard the harrowing story of what happened on Psi Cygnus and called the meeting as soon as she could. To her pleasant surprise, her request was quickly granted, and not only by video but in person. It felt like a cloud had cleared and the cautious standoff between the humans on the planet and the fleet in orbit ended amicably.

“So, what happens to us now?” asked Ingrid.

“Unfortunately, I’m not entirely sure,” replied Izzy. “For a while, Earth decided to take a... hands-off approach to many of its outposts for reasons that are much more political than logistical or practical. But given the advancement of warp technology, they’re once again reaching out across space to bring the human-settled galaxy back together.”

“Does that mean you’ll be staying here?”

“We’re still waiting for orders after reporting the incidents so, again, I don’t know. The friendly fire attack disrupted normal protocol and procedure. And since this world is now known to exist by the Rexx, that changes things as well. They could turn your city into a forward operating military base, or they could just start sending patrols. Either way, if you ever wanted to reestablish contact with Earth, you’ve done it now. Just don’t expect to like what you’ll find.”

Ingrid registered those words with alarm but decided to push past the uneasiness.

“Who are the Rexx, exactly?” she shifted gears.

“That’s classi...” Izzy stopped herself mid-word. “Ah, screw it. They’re a dying species. We think they used to rule some nearby part of the galaxy until their civilization more or less collapsed. Now, they just roam the stars in bands, trying to start over. We’re unable to communicate with them, they can’t talk to us, and they hate our guts for reasons that we guess but not confirm. Out of all the units they fought, Prototypes tend to enrage them the most.”

“All right, so what about those ships supposedly from the 10th Fleet? Who were they and were they who you wanted to avoid coming here?”

“Unfortunately, that’s not something I can discuss, but I think you can guess the answer to the second part of your question.”

Ingrid’s fingers played with her now empty coffee cup.

“Just out of curiosity,” she started, “if they were to convert this city into a base, what would it be like? Is there a way to look into that future?”

“I could do that for you,” smiled Izzy.

She looked at her smartphone and her eyes pulsed. In response, her phone brought up a holographic render of a giant, black and red spiderweb wrapped around the city, a generic seal in its bulging, hardened center.

“That’s a Forward Operating Base?” Ingrid gasped. ”Holy shit, that’s enormous!”

“The nukes, infantry, and soldiers have to go somewhere,” shrugged Izzy and dismissed the hologram with another pulse of her eyes. “The only good news I can offer is that you’d more than likely either fall under the purview of the Eagles, or the Hellhounds. We work with these fleets closely and I can vouch that they’re led by good commanders who won’t trample over your authority. They’re fans of a light touch unless it’s absolutely required to apply force on Terra Firma worlds.”

“And is that ever required?”

“On some planets, unfortunately, it has been. But those are worlds where we were met with nukes and revolts because they saw Earthlings as invaders for very messy, complicated reasons.”

“They got used to being independent and were allergic to even the thought of anyone telling them what to do?”

“Something like that.”

“Selfish question then, what happens to me?”

“Up to you. If you choose to stay in command and there are enough supporters on this planet to justify it, you would be appointed governor. Largely the same job by a different name and with the occasional meetings with Earth.”

Ingrid looked at her cup.

“You know, Hayes and Robbins are going to want to try and go with you,” she said. “They always wanted to see other worlds and will jump at any chance to go on an adventure. Plus, they told me that after what they saw on Psi Cygnus...”

“Understandable,” nodded Izzy.

“They’re both troublemakers and have been like that since they were kids. But they’re smart, resourceful, and can handle just about anything. Just look how they managed to deal with your arrival.”

“That’s quite the recommendation. We’ll keep it in mind if the question comes up.”

Ingrid leaned back in her seat and spun her cup around in her hand.

“I have a lot of things to consider, a lot of meetings to set up, and a lot of decisions to make very soon,” she sighed. “But before all that, I need a drink that’s not this. Will you join me?”

“I’d love to,” smiled Izzy.

...

Dot was reading an old-fashioned book, sitting cross-legged on a large, circular chair while wearing only a tank top and shorts. Her quarters were spacious but sparsely decorated. Aside from her current seat, there was another just like it, a table, a chair slid under a desk, and an open sliding door to a bedroom with a wide bed. Behind her was a large window with a view of the city and the planet below.

There was a knock on her door. She lifted her head, paused the quiet ambient tune playing in her head, and closed her book.

“Come in,” she said.

Christine entered as the door slid open, closing behind her as soon as she stepped in.

“Hi, Dot. They told me where I could find you. The directions seemed a little weird. I think I actually got lost for a minute there.”

“Well, I’m glad you made it Christine. Have a seat. Anything to drink?”

“No thank you, I’m fine,” she said, sitting down on the edge of the second seat.

Dot put the book away on the table, next to a stack of others.

“So, what can I do for you?” asked Dot. “Doing a little tour of living quarters? I can guarantee you, all of them look pretty much like yours and Mr. Robbins’, although two bedrooms is not a frequent configuration.”

“No, I had questions after today’s events, and since we went on a mission with you and we passed whatever background check you were doing, I’m hoping to get some answers,” Christine replied nervously.

“That’s fair.”

“No matter how hard I try, I just can’t get over the image of that thing blowing its brains out. What was it? Why did it look so much like a military cyborg?”

“We don’t know that yet. We’re still analyzing the remains. They did have a QR code and version number, so we’re pretty sure they were made by humans.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let me show you,” said Dot standing up.

She turned around and lifted the back of her shirt to show eight hockey puck-sized chrome circles inscribed with black glyphs stretching from her shoulder blades to her lower back. Under the right upper circle was a long QR code and “_v 2.1.7” inscribed into the gel that functioned as her skin. After giving her guest enough time to study her back. Dot pulled her tank top back down.

“Do all cyborgs with tentacles have these codes and numbers?” asked Christine.

“Yes,” replied Dot. “The version numbers and codes would be different, but the layout is exactly the same. They’re there for inventory management, so doctors and engineers know what spare parts and stem cells to use when a prototype is being repaired or undergoing maintenance.”

“Okay... I have a lot of follow-up questions but they’re sort of just swimming in my head right now and I need to organize them first.”

Christine rubbed her face in deep thought for a few seconds before catching herself.

“I... I should probably let you get back to your evening,” she finally muttered. After a short pause she blushed and heard herself add “And thanks for letting me look under your shirt. You’re very cute.”

She looked back at the cyborg in embarrassed horror, her cheeks so red, they were almost glowing.

“You know what?” laughed Dot. “Stay if you’d like. I didn’t have any plans other than reading tonight. Let’s organize those thoughts of yours.”

A playful gleam illuminated her eyes as a mischievous smile crossed her lips.

...

Milburn leaned back in his office chair with a contemplative frown as a heavily bandaged Jason barely held himself upright on a couch.

“So, they have a specimen now?” said Milburn. “That makes things more interesting. It probably won’t take the 13th long to figure out what it is. I’m very, very interested to see what they’ll do after that.”

“And what about Mai’s findings?” asked Jason.

“Yes, her report definitely made your visit to that planet more than worthwhile,” the scientist smiled, looking back at a still frame from a clip of Dot in full combat mode. “A 19,000 plus Kelvin model. He’s been very busy indeed...”

Mai stood at the entrance to the office, listening to Milburn while leaning on the wall out of sight, although he probably knew she was there, nervously biting her thumb. Why, why was Alex creating more prototypes after everything that happened?

Wasn’t it enough that he converted her and himself in the first place? That part she could understand. He had little choice in the matter because his fate was sealed after the incident in that hellish tundra, and she agreed to something she didn’t understand. But knowing what they knew now, why push further? What was the endgame?

She bit her thumb hard enough to draw blood. Her clenched teeth refused to let go. If that little twerp burned hotter than most stars in the universe and could move fast enough to basically teleport, what other monstrosities did Alex have in his lab? And what was he planning to do with them? For the first time in a very long time she shared Milburn’s concerns.