Samir took a moment to survey the conference room. The entire auditorium was arrayed in a sphere, with the seating all pointing towards a central platform where the senior staff stood. The crew held the lower rows with their seats looking up while Protectorate and Free Exchange officials sat in the upper areas looking down. A quiet silence descended upon the room as Samir took his position at a podium in the center of the space.

His eyes looked over at his attentive audience. All young faces staring back at him. Some were with awe, some with bored apathy, and some with bitter resentment. Samir didn’t expect anything different. He was not unaware he was treading on a few toes, accepting the position of captain. However, that wasn’t going to stop him.

Samir took a deep breath and waved his right arm to lower the lighting. “Approximately four months ago, the Free Exchange received a signal from one of the quantum computers kept on Earth. These computers were historically used to instantaneously track the location of colony ships and functioning as emergency SOS beacons. There are two computers paired together, one on Earth and another on the ship. They communicate exclusively with one another and cannot be duplicated or forged by known science.”

He raised his left hand, which brought up a holographic image of the galaxy. An orange indicator displayed a circle near the outer edge of the upper right quadrant. “As you all know, the signal was identified as belonging to the Herodatus. A ship designed as one of the final attempts at intergalactic travel in human history. We assume it’s not the same vessel, but the quantum signal is undeniable.”

Samir outstretched his right hand and pulled an image of the Hyperion next to the galaxy. “The Free Exchange has generously decided to sponsor an expedition to the signal as a politically neutral body. We shall travel along the Space Gate System until reaching Vetrius Minor.” He pointed towards a spot a foot away from the orange indicator.

“At that point, we’ll disconnect from the Space Gates and travel in our own gravity bubble. The expected trip is approximately eight years to reach the destination. We’ll be placed in stasis for this length of the journey. After reaching our target, our mission is to identify the nature of the signal and report back to the Free Exchange.”

Most of the remaining briefing involved tedious logistics about the capabilities of the ship and the supplies they were taking with them. Nothing he hadn’t seen before except for the variety of doctors and scientists they were taking with them. Going through the list, he realized there were several dozen advanced laboratories on the Hyperion for nearly all sciences: engineers, physicists, chemists, biologists, psychologists, and even botanists and zoologists. The Free Exchange truly wanted a comprehensive report on the new visitors.

Further sections included everything from standard operating procedures of spaceflight, emergency evacuation protocol in case of hull rupture, and most importantly, the established rules for conducting first contact.

For the latter, such codes had not been in effect since the earliest days of space travel. Humanity had found a barren and desolate galaxy with only a select few planets bearing abundant plant and animal life. The rest were all uninhabitable rocks surrounded by deadly atmospheres.

Samir couldn’t help but note an energized feeling of excitement in the air as he outlined the codes of conduct for an alien species. True, no one believed for a single second that actual aliens had sent out the signal. But for humans who had been separated for more than three thousand years, they might as well be aliens at this point.

He concluded the remainder of the briefing by outlining battle strategies and tactics in the event of a conflict. Unfortunately, the plans had to be kept simplified and vague in the face of a completely unknown entity. He knew the maneuvers he prescribed were unimpressive and simple, and the look on the faces of the pilots and the turret operators told him he wasn’t making a good first impression.

Finally, Samir lowered his hands, and the holograms disappeared. The lights of the room gradually brightened back to a comfortable level.

“Do we have any questions?” Samir opened the floor for the audience.

A short red-headed woman stood up in one of the lower rows of the auditorium. A holographic name displayed near her face giving her rank and profile.

Ensign Mara Riegal raised her voice. “Has command identified any possible purpose for the signal? Any likely scenarios we should prepare for?”

Samir raised his hand and brought back the image of the beacon in the galaxy. “The beacon has not moved from its position since it has been activated four months ago. It seems the ship is content to stay within the local star system.”

He held out two fingers and scrolled inward toward the specific star. The galaxy zoomed in into the solar system. Unfortunately, it was not a real-time image. The data had been sourced from the galactic mapping project carried out nearly eight hundred years ago. Seven planetary bodies circled around a red giant star. Three were rocky husks of earth while the remaining four were gas giants. The beacon was nestled just under the cloud layers of the second gas giant from the star. Its picture was not unlike Jupiter, save for perhaps a more ruddy color.

“We have no idea what the ship looks like or what it’s doing in the gas giant. There is currently no explanation for why it has chosen to reside here of all places. We have speculated that it may be a polite way for the Andromedans to make first contact with us by allowing it to be on our terms. But we don’t have enough information to make anything conclusive.”

“Could it be an ambush?” This time Ensign Harold Mayors stood up. “Lure in one of our ships to be attacked. Take it apart for information before launching an assault?”

“Not likely.” Samir swiped the display away to address the entire auditorium. “If they wanted war, there are a dozen better ways to gather information than luring in a ship. Send probes deep into our territory to survey capabilities. Launch raiding parties on our outer protectorates. Even sending a diplomatic party to spy on us would be a better alternative than a First-Year’s idea of an ambush.”

There was a smattering of laughter from those who graduated from the Free Exchange space academies. Samir was glad he was able to make at least somewhat of a connection with the crew. But while everyone knew it was a pathetic attempt at war, it was also a baffling choice for first contact if that was the intention.

The Andromedans could have sent a dozen other signals instead of a quantum one, which only gave location. It was a small miracle the computer on Earth was still working. Had it not been, the entire ploy would’ve fallen on deaf ears. Even a brief “hello” from a radio would’ve been a better choice to make someone heard. Just make a ruckus with whatever equipment you had, and it would’ve had the same effect. There were easy means to make signals travel faster than light. It wouldn’t have been too hard to make something work.

Samir had heard only two working theories for the quantum signal that made any sense to him. Some had speculated the Andromedans may have evolved to a state where they could only establish contact via the quantum computer. He thought it was an unlikely scenario. Why would people so advanced want to suddenly make contact after all this time?

Then there was the other one. The theory often forgotten and disregarded by most of the others as being paranoid. Above all, quantum signals were silent. They couldn’t be detected outside of the two paired computers. Instant and untraceable. It was perfect if you didn’t want anyone else to hear what you were doing.

The rest of the mission briefing went by quickly, and Samir soon retired back to his suite on the top floor of the Concordia. He had requested a smaller room, which unfortunately was not given to him. Instead, he had a lavish living room ten times of his house, complete with a fully functional bar which dispensed any drink the Free Exchange had to offer.

Samir tried to relax on one of the couches but found the synthetic material far too soft for his liking. He tried the floor, but instead of hard metal it was covered in smart fiber, which adjusted to make your feet as comfortable as possible. It was almost insufferable with the amount of luxury displayed.

He found himself retreating towards the kitchen counter, which seemingly had the only hard surface in the entire hotel. Sleeping for a few hours, he was awoken by the sound of the door buzzer going off.

Samir opened the door and saw a pale man standing in the doorway. Arthur had clearly decided to let himself age up until his late fifties. A different look than when Samir had previously known him. He wore a weathered brown wool coat over a rustic buttoned shirt. Fuzzy black hair sat on his wrinkled head and pocked around his mouth. He wore a pair of wire spectacles on his eyes, more for appearance than practicality, as most eyes were fixed through surgery or genetic therapy.

Near his feet was a black briefcase which was locked with several mechanical and digital mechanisms.

The man gave a wide grin as soon as he saw Samir in the doorway. “Samir! It’s been for too long!”

“I know. I should’ve kept in touch more.” Samir hugged the man and led him into the living room. “How’s your work been?”

“Ah, you know, I’ve been keeping busy. Merchandise is always easy to sell. Just have to know where to find buyers.”

Arthur set the briefcase down upon one of the tables in the living room. Samir went off and brought a drink of Borian Whisky. Pouring Arthur a glass, he waited as the man continued unlocking the briefcase.

“Never mind me, how have you been?” Arthur pushed the spectacles against his eyes and chuckled a little. “Captain of the most important expedition in human history. Not bad since last I saw you on that little moon.”

“That would’ve been fifty years ago, wouldn’t it?” Samir sipped from a patterned glass cup. “To be honest, I was surprised you were still alive when I reached out.”

“Oh, you know me, life is far too interesting to die.” Arthur flipped the last set of locks, but didn’t open the case.

He hesitated, checking an antique watch on his wrist. A beep sounded a moment earlier, and Arthur’s shoulders visibly relaxed as he flipped the case open.

“That was my men disabling the sensors on the room.” Arthur smiled. “We’re feeding fake video into the hotel surveillance system. No one is watching, least of all the Exchange.” He reached out to a glass and took a sip.

“Thank you,” Samir sighed as he glanced over toward one of the walls. “I missed having privacy.”

“Your order was difficult to get together, but the challenge was welcome. Most of this new generation just don’t have an appreciation for elegance anymore.” Arthur lifted a sleek dark grey pistol out of the case and handed to Singh.

When Singh was working with Central Fleet, all officers preferred to find independent dealers rather than the standard issue equipment given. Going to the hottest war zones, you wanted the best of the best. If you were lucky to move up in the ranks, getting a position high up in the chain of command, then even more so. Someone was always looking for a quicker promotion.

“Made out of a Bellock designed synthetic to be completely invisible to sensors. The Derrida 42 is a beautiful piece. AI sensors will direct your movements to lock onto your targets. The grip is made with a genetic lock to make sure only you can fire it.”

Samir pointed it towards one of the bottles on the bar. The AI detected the general area of his desired target and shifted the weight of the gun to be dead center on a clear glass filled with Abrian Vodka. The gun felt like it was guiding itself to perfectly align with where he wanted to fire.

Arthur held out his hand and Samir placed it in the man’s palm. He discharged the magazine and handed it to Samir. The magazine looked more like a container. Part of it was glass and looking within he saw a grey liquid not unlike the color of mercury.

“Smart metal. The safety has seven settings. The lowest will prevent you from firing, obviously. The next three are nonlethal. A condenser shapes the bullet and fires it at a speed which will cause a great deal of pain to the target. The other three will determine if you want a hole in a man’s chest or to remove his torso. There is a small gravity device to help with inertia.”

Samir took the pistol and slid the magazine back in. “How many shots?”

“Depends on what safety level you’re firing. Different densities and all that. I would say an average of fifty shots per magazine. I brought you three just in case you are in deep space for longer than expected.”

“Excellent,” Samir placed the gun on the table. “We have offense. What about defense?”

Arthur produced a small hand-held device which attached to his wrist with a leather strap. Clicking on the grey surface, he smiled wide. “You’re going to like this one. Throw something at me.”

Samir took his glass and tossed the liquid out. It traveled through the air towards Arthur before being violently seized by an invisible force and thrown to the side. The whisky spilled all over the carpet, which soaked up the substance and cleaned it up on its own. Arthur’s image was distorted for a brief second, the top half of him disappearing. A second passed, and his form returned to normal.

“Top of the line gravity shield. Very expensive. Can track up to nine fast-moving objects in rapid succession before the AI fails. Better than most standard builds. Unfortunately, you still won’t be able to see much while the shield works.”

Samir gratefully took the shield and gave Arthur a credit stick carrying the equivalent of eighty years in purchasable lifespan. “Thank you. This is much more than I expected.”

There was a beam of pride in Arthur’s eyes as he closed the briefcase, but the man hesitated while shutting the locks. “Samir, the salesman part of me is happy you’re back. But as a friend, I thought you turned back on all this when you converted.” The weapons dealer gave a concerned look.

“I have.” Samir took the pistol and watched it fold to make itself thinner as he put it into his waistband. “I’m not the same man I was.”

“Then why all this? I just gave you enough firepower to kill at least a hundred men.”

“I hate violence.” Samir looked at him. “But there’s an old saying. Be as innocent as a dove and as cunning as a snake. The Free Exchange makes me captain of a warship. That’s not a coincidence. They want a fight. It’s just a question of who's going to finish it.”

Arthur tipped his head at Samir. “Please try not to get yourself killed.”

Samir wrapped the gravity shield around his arm and tucked the device under his sleeve. No one could tell he was armed. “I promise I’ll see you again. Hopefully, my suspicions are wrong.”

The dining room was just as luxurious as the rest of the Concordia. The ceiling above was a digital recreation of the night sky above Earth. The holographic technology allowed for full depth, so it allowed it to appear like an actual sky above them. The walls were curved so as to allow for the illusion of a horizon.

Samir would’ve killed for his old house back. To sit back and watch the real stars from his comfy front porch. And most of all not having to deal with the people. The banquet hall was crammed with various officials and military officers. Dotted among them were some of the people who oversaw the construction of the Hyperion and a select few leaders from several protectorates.

There were some hushed whispers as he entered. A few tracking eyes, but most were polite enough to disregard him. A holographic waiter appeared and silently nodded, gesturing him to follow. Samir followed the man to a table among the crowded hundreds. Sitting there was Dr. Therese and Lt. Commander Klyker, both dressed in the grey and black. Both of them stood up as they saw Samir approach.

“Dr. Therese, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Samir shook her hand. The woman gave a friendly smile back. “And Lt. Commander Klyker, your reputation precedes you.” Samir shook his hand as well.

“I think I should be the one saying that. It’s an honor to be assigned under you, sir.” Klyker said as the three of them took their seats at the table.

The three of them had met a few times before the briefing, but only now had they been given the time to properly talk. The days had been a rush of activity and not a little disorganized as the days wound down before launch.

“While I appreciate the Free Exchange for generously funding this expedition, they don’t seem to understand the professionalism of a military environment.” He glanced around at the banquet hall. “I want to warn both of you that I will be enforcing a strict chain of command. Either of you have a problem with me or my orders, you take it up in private and not in front of the crew. You keep me appraised of everything—and I mean everything. The two of you are my eyes and ears to the rest of the ship. There can’t be anything that gets in the way of that. Nothing, understand?”

Holographic menus appeared before them at their tables. Appearing as normal paper, one flicked their hand over them to move the recreated page. Samir paid more attention to his two subordinates as they nodded back in solemn agreement.

“That being said, I hope that won’t get in way of friendly conversation from time to time.” He smiled a little and turned his menu, allowing the air to settle to a more relaxed attitude.

Above, there was a change in the lighting as the stars moved position. Suddenly, a purple and blue nebulae appeared overhead. The dust sparkling and rolling around the stars. Samir couldn’t recognize the planet where the image was taken from, but he was impressed with the visual nonetheless.

“Tell me, Dr. Therese.” Samir began, leaning back in his chair and looking at the blond woman. “Everyone seems to have their own theories. What do you think we’ll find at the beacon?”

A thoughtful expression crossed her face. Though from the stiffness of her movements, she clearly didn’t feel comfortable around him. “That’s the real question. I can honestly say I have no idea.”

He turned to Klyker. “Any ideas yourself?”

“Although it would interesting.” Erika responded before Klyker had a chance to speak. “To see how the Andromedans organize their society in relation to ours.”

Samir rubbed his beard, flicking his fingers through the strands of hair. “How do you mean?”

“Humanity encountered many large issues as our technology increased. Genetic augmentation, artificial intelligence, even the problem of machine automation could’ve ended in disaster if the Free Exchange had not solved those issues. It’ll be interesting to see how the Andromedans tackle such problems.”

Those thoughts had crossed Samir’s mind before. The Free Exchange was built on the single foundational principle to preserve humanity. In the past, numerous societies rose up, some transhuman and others attempting alternative options. Cataclysmic wars had been fought over these philosophies until the Free Exchange arose victorious.

Humanity first and humanity always. AI was never allowed to develop anywhere near sentience, and it was relentlessly hunted down whenever did appear. Genetics were kept to the original genome taken just before earth achieved space travel. Even machine automation was kept to a minimum to ensure human relevance in society.

Not everyone agreed to these standards, but the Free Exchange held access to the Space Gates and the UTN. If any protectorate was caught violating these sanctions, suddenly they would lose instantaneous travel. The information networks cut off, the leadership losing all economic and political legitimacy. Finally, the violating protectorate would be declared excommunicated and free territory for whichever protectorates could conquer them. The wolves would inevitably finish the rest.

It was the only way humanity could keep its relevance in a civilization where technology could so easily outpace mankind.

“That poses a massive threat, doesn’t it?” Klyker interjected. “The Andromedans could easily break the balance of power. It could throw the galaxy right back into chaos.”

She sighed, “Yes, that could easily happen.”

“And perhaps the Andromedans might have found a better solution than ours,” Samir suggested. “Who knows? A different perspective on the problem might be what the Free Exchange needs.”

Erika hid a quick smile and readjusted in her seat. Turning towards the Captain, she spoke, “Have you ever heard of matrioshka theory, Captain Singh? What you just said sounds remarkably like it.”

Samir shook his head. “Unless it was taught in the academies, no.”

“It’s a rather important term in my field. The idea comes from matrioshka dolls from Earth Russia. It’s a series of smaller dolls encapsulated by a bigger doll. They often depict a child growing up to an adult with every bigger doll getting older. The idea is that societies are much the same way.”

“I’m still not quite getting the concept.” Samir was still confused.

“Take for example, human civilization transitioning from a hunter-gatherer society to an agricultural one. The beginning stage is small and less complex. Then suddenly, with the advent of agriculture, you see a rapid increase in complexity and size. Such a radical shift that the agricultural is nearly completely unrecognizable from the hunter-gatherer. Then you have it again with the industrial revolution, the digital epoch, the interstellar colonization, and now the Free Exchange. Each stage is distinct and marked by an order-of-magnitude increase in complexity and size. Coincidentally, also resulting in a near unparalleled increase in human prosperity.”

Erika glanced around at both Samir and Klyker, looking to see if the two were still following. “The point I was trying to make is that the space between these stages is what we call the matrioshka divide. The problems like the Captain brought up litter the divide, and prevent the civilization from crossing from one stage to the next. Imagine if there was no oil to power the industrial revolution or if AI took over in the space faring age. Each stage is met with more problems that need to be solved.”

“So you’re saying the Andromedans might have figured out how to cross this divide? That they might help us move from the Free Exchange to whatever is the next step?” Klyker asked.

“That’s the one possibility.” Erika shrugged her shoulders. “The problem with the theory is that it gets unpredictable. There’s no telling what problems we may face until they are nearly on top of us. There’s also no telling what the next stage will fully look like until we are already there.”

“An optimistic theory.” Samir rested his cheek on his hand. “Is there an end stage to this process? Or would it go on forever and ever?”

Erika blinked. “The end would be nothing less than utopia.”