A hissing of oxygen interrupts the silence of a massive cryogenic facility. Almost four thousand metallic coffin-shaped stasis pods sit attached to the wall, each one inscribed with the name and callsign of its occupant. One of them lowers to the floor, guided by a robotic apparatus. Its square-shaped bottom strikes the exo-steel paneling, sending a metallic ring throughout the air.

Hundreds of lights activate. Many bulbs, now broken and faded due to age, sputter uselessly as the UTC 'Bloodbearer' starts up its life support systems for the first time in over a hundred million years.

Umi's voice transmits over the ship's omni-directional speakers. "Warning: The Bloodbearer's oxygen consistency rating is 20% lower than the preferred parameters. Recalibrating the carbon emission panels now. Consistency increased to 85%. 90%. 95%. Operation complete. The Bloodbearer's oxygen consistency has now reached 100%."

"Warning. I am currently detecting one million, seven hundred and nine thousand, eight-hundred and fifteen unknown biological contaminants within the cryogenic storage bay. These contaminants pose a 98.3% chance of viral infection to the Bloodbearer's crew. Initiating decontamination procedure."

"Proceeding."

"Decontamination sweep complete. Bio-contagion molecules have been deposited into the Science Bay for further study. Possible uses for viral warfare number one hundred and twenty-four thousand, six hundred and seven. Further study required to test their viability."

"Multiple miscellaneous wakeup procedures in progress. Seven out of one hundred and thirteen complete. Twelve out of one hundred and thirteen complete. Nineteen out of one hundred and thirteen complete."

...

"All miscellaneous wakeup procedures complete. Now performing final checks to ensure safety of the Bloodbearer's crew. Warning! I have detected multiple injuries to crew member José Rodriguez's internal organs. Severe trauma caused by extended stasis-sleep detected. Two out of five lungs, inoperable. One out of two hearts, inoperable. Muscle atrophy detected. Applying stabilization medical procedures. Complete. Calculating crew member's survival likelihood. Calculations complete. Result: 96.4% chance of survival. Finalizing wakeup procedures. Complete."

A violent explosion of air erupts from the bio-stasis capsule. Copious amounts of frothing, blue liquid spills out onto the Bloodbearer's smooth metal floor, only to fizzle away after coming into contact with the floor. This amniotic-like fluid, the preservational liquid that allows humans to stay in suspended animation for millennia, is designed to evaporate the moment it comes into contact with richly oxygenized air.

The pinnacle of Precursor technology completes multiple automated wakeup procedures at the exact moment the stasis capsule's occupant opens his eyes.

Stomp.

A nine-foot-tall naked biped emerges from the containment unit. His thick, short-cropped black hair pokes up messily due to the cryofluid stuck throughout it. However, the liquid dissolves into a gaseous substance mere moments after contacting the oxygen outside his pod, reducing the stickiness to undetectable levels. The human steps on the ground with the serenity of a veteran of a thousand wars, blinking off the effects of his cryo-sickness with ease.

"Welcome, Private José Rodriguez, Callsign: Epsilon-Wolf-Eaters, Green-Seven. Please detail your physical status."

The man stands stiffly for several seconds. He gazes forward and blinks over and over to clear the sleep from his eyes.

Eventually, he folds his hands behind his back and assumes a dignified pose.

"My body feels stiff, and my chest hurts. Beyond that, I am ready for duty. Umi, have we reached Alpha Centauri Starbase IV?"

"Negative. My apologies, Private Rodriguez. I awoke you from stasis-sleep due to several urgent matters. However, before detailing the current situation, I must confirm that you are fit for duty. Please follow my instructions to the best of your ability, and I will give you your mission afterward."

Private Rodriguez frowns. He glances around the cryogenics chamber and mentally takes note of every stasis pod with a green light above them. The lights, of course, indicate that their occupant continues to remain in stasis.

"I am only a Private, Umi. Why have you not revived Sergeant Gutierrez, or Admiral Baruchen? Whatever matters you need to attend, a Private is far from ideal for your purposes."

"Negative. Please refrain from asking any unnecessary questions, Private Rodriguez. As per the military regulations instated by Divine Emperor Malathar III, in the event of a Crimson-Type tactical emergency, Ship-Command synthminds may delegate sensitive tasks to low-ranking crew members. This is one such occasion."

José Rodriguez stiffens noticeably. A sense of clarity appears in his eyes as he blinks away the last of his cryo-fatigue. "I see. In that case, I will comply."

Umi continues. "Private Rodriguez. We are currently in a time-sensitive situation involving a danger to the Bloodbearer's crew. However, I have decided these wakeup procedures must not be ignored. Please answer the following questions succinctly and to the best of your knowledge."

"Go on."

"Private Rodriguez. What is the last thing you remember before entering stasis?"

José hesitates.

"...Hmm. I chatted with my bunkmate, Private Nicholai Azaram. We spoke about how after arriving at Alpha Centauri Starbase IV, we would take three days of leave to visit their active volcano formations. After that, we entered stasis."

"Your response has been noted. Please lift your right arm above your head, then stretch it to your left at a fifteen degree angle. At the same time, extend your left leg out, and..."

Umi gives Private Rodriguez a list of complex stretching exercises. José complies without complaint, though, his suspicions deepen as the synthmind's requests grow exceedingly strange. Several of the stretches cause him to cough violently and hack up blue liquid, which only further the dark thoughts bubbling in his mind.

"Cough, cough! Umi. Are we done? Something is wrong with my body. My chest hurts more than any other instance of stasis sleep I've ever endured. To be honest, if I have to do any more of these stretches, I might throw up a lung."

The synthmind doesn't reply for several seconds.

When she does, her tone is markedly softer.

"Yes. I apologize for the trouble, Private Rodriguez. As I said, I am currently attempting to resolve a time sensitive situation. Due to the nature of multiple pieces of information I have recently received, I calculate with a 65.3% likelihood that your psyche will encounter a tremendous blow if I reveal the nature of my knowledge to you. I am attempting to prepare you for this news, but due to the fragility of the human mind, it is not a simple process."

José straightens his posture. He stands in the middle of the room, a mere speck of flesh amidst a vast, connected facility of tubes and lights, yet commands authority as if he were a rising dragon.

"Umi. Do not presume upon my mental strength. I am a soldier. I have lived for seven thousand, six hundred years. I fought in Divine Emperor Malathus II's wars, as well as those of his son. I have watched countless comrades perish, all without batting an eye. Now, please, explain why you've woken me up instead of any other officer. If our mission is as time-sensitive as you claim, then stop trying to coddle me like a fresh recruit."

Private Rodriguez lowers his voice.

"Is there a traitor to Ramma's Chosen among the crew? Is that why you've chosen me? Has someone betrayed the Divine Emperor?"

...

Umi observes the battle-hardened veteran's expression. Despite his tough words, and despite his mental clarity, the synthmind still hesitates to reveal all of her cards to the Private.

However, after a few moments, she speaks.

"Private Rodriguez. I commend your desire to proceed with any mission, so long as it gives glory to the Divine Emperor. However, the mission I have planned revolves entirely around your survival. You are paramount. If you perish, or lose your will to live, it will cause an immense blow to the rest of the galaxy. I cannot overstate how grave the current galactic situation has become."

Umi continues. "A significant amount of time has passed while you and the rest of the crew were in stasis. You might not be fully aware, but the Bloodbearer is no ordinary ship. It is a Juggernaut-class vessel carrying a large number of experimental craft and upgrade modules. The possibility of these top-secret pieces of technology falling into the hands of the Divine Emperor's enemies would be catastrophic."

José's eyes flicker with a knowing light. "I have never observed the experimental projects, but I do know of their existence."

"The amount of time you have spent in stasis-sleep exceeds all my established safety parameters. Due to this fact, you may be able to understand the significance of what I am telling you."

Finally, José's confident expression begins to waver. "Wait... in order to exceed your safety parameters... don't tell me..."

Private Rodriguez trails off. His eyes grow distant as multiple puzzle pieces click together. Eventually, he shakes the fog from his eyes and glances again at the stasis pods adhered to the walls.

"...The safety parameters for stasis pods aboard the Bloodbearer are supposed to last as long as 500,000 years! That can't be right. Umi, has your programming become corrupted? Are you attempting to joke around with me at a time like this?"

"I am not."

Umi's voice lowers.

"Private Rodriguez. I regret to inform you that you are the only living member of the Bloodbearer's crew. All of the others have perished in stasis-sleep."

Her words suck the oxygen from the room.

Private José Rodriguez, a low-level member of the Bloodbearer's crew, slowly shifts his eyes from one capsule to another. Even after all the wars he's fought, and all the comrades who have fallen in front of his eyes, this piece of news hits him like no other.

"Impossible. That's... how am I supposed to believe that?"

Numb with shock, José steps toward one of the nearby stasis capsules. Its solid metal exterior prevents him from seeing inside.

"...My bunkmate. Private Azaram. Let me... let me see him. Maybe your calculations are wrong."

Umi's voice transmits from the ceiling, barely a whisper.

"I do not recommend opening Private Azaram's stasis capsule, Private Rodriguez."

She pauses for several long seconds.

"You will not like what you find."

Her ominous words hang in the air, unchecked.

José swallows the lump forming in his throat. Shakily, he reaches toward the manual controls and begins keying in the release command code.

Hiss!

A burst of air fires from the back of the capsule as its cryofluid tubes decouple from the ship's liquid-cycling modulators. Two guidance-arms lower from the ceiling, grab the stasis pod, and pull it off the wall. The arms initiate the opening procedure, which requires thirty seconds.

All the while, Private Rodriguez waits.

He balls his hands into fists and forces his eyes open, not wanting to miss any details.

"He has to be alive. The synthmind must be lying. She's testing my loyalty."

Convinced that the ship's artificial intelligence has suffered data corruption, José waits for the reveal of his bunkmate and best friend, still safe and sound.

Reality proves harsher than fiction.

The pod opens, and a figure lurches forward, startling José. Before he can react, a vaguely humanoid shape, all of its body having long since liquefied, flops out of the capsule and strikes the Bloodbearer's metallic floor.

Splat.

Like a sack of watermelons, José's bunkmate explodes into a horrific mess of blue and red liquids. The ossein in his bones, eaten away by the effects of corrupted cryofluid, break up into fragments, scattering what remains of his skull and brains in every direction.

José lurches backward. He retreats a step, only to nearly slip on a small lake of gore washing around his feet. Horrified, the Private freezes in place and closes his eyes.

"Aah... by Ramma's will..."

José stumbles away from the horrific scene of shattered bone, liquid skin, and evaporating cryofluid. He staggers toward the cryogenic facility's exit, a pair of double doors. Instead of leaving, he grabs hold of an adjacent bench and flops onto it to steady his weakening legs.

"Dead. All dead. It's true!"

"Oh, gods! Oh... oh, Nick... Nick... he can't be dead... he can't..."

"Everyone is... gone... how are they-? I'm hallucinating... I'm..."

Numb from the shock and horror at the loss of his friends and family, José's mind begins to reel with the possibilities.

Lost in space. 500,000 years. Everyone I know has died. What of the Emperor? What of Ramma's Chosen? Where am I? I... I can barely process what's happened!

Five minutes pass.

Slowly, José Rodriguez manages to get his emotions and body in check. He finally raises his eyes to the gelatinous remains of his friend, Nicholai Azaram.

"Synthmind Umi. Please, be honest with me. How much time has passed? 500,000 years? 600,000?"

Umi's voice transmits overhead, just as quiet as before.

"No. According to the information I've received... the actual number exceeds one hundred million years."

José's brain shuts off.

He fails to wrap any part of his mind around the insane number the synthmind fed him.

"Hah... a joke. It can't be real. Am I still in stasis? Is this, perhaps, one of those vivid cryo-nightmares I've heard so much about? Haha."

"I apologize, Private Rodriguez. My programmers ensured I was incapable of delivering humor."

Five minutes tick by, as Private Rodriguez rests his face in his palms. After everything he's endured in his life, the loss of his friends and family, coupled with the realization that he won't be able to fully understand what has happened anytime soon, dawns on him.

"Private Rodriguez. Let me remind you that you are still an enlisted soldier with a duty to follow the will of the Divine Emperors. Now is not the time to give in to despair. I understand that this news is incomprehensible... but I require an operator to intervene during unexpected events. If you should begin to ritualistically self-harm, I will be unable to defend us both."

The computer's words cut at the basest parts of Private Rodriguez's brain. His mind, honed by millennia of adherence to the Divine Emperor's laws, snaps back into place. Immediately, Humanity's creed plays in his mind.

We are explorers. We discover.

We are warriors. We contest.

We are judges. We punish.

We are saviors. We protect.

We are followers of the Divine Emperor. We are Ramma's Chosen.

We must never give in to the heretics who stain our creed.

...

Rising to his feet, José inhales a deep breath, then expels the turbid air in his lungs. His eyes shift into those of a hawk as he sets aside his worries and doubts. The Private's military training takes over, putting him on autopilot.

"Understood. I apologize, Synthmind Umi. Please give me my mission. I shall take the time to grieve for those who have fallen later. In the meantime, I will carry out the Divine Emperor's will."

"Thank you for your compliance, Private Rodriguez. You are a model soldier. Please proceed to the nearest uniform dispersal unit. As per ship regulations, you are now the highest-level surviving military officer aboard the Bloodbearer. I will outfit you with the Ship's admiral uniform, bearing the five crimson stars."

José stares ahead blankly, shutting off his emotions to protect his psyche. "Do as you must."

.......................................

Shortly afterward, the newly minted Admiral Rodriguez exits the cryogenics bay. A sharp-looking blue and red uniform, forged with the finest Peraltian steel and stitched with several layers of exo-dermal regenerative synth-fibers, shines like a diamond in the ship's artificial light. The suit's steel pauldrons rest upon José's shoulders weightlessly, not hindering his movements in the slightest. Five blood-red stars sit upon his Admiral beret, contrasting with its striking navy blue coloration.

Just by putting on a uniform, José's nine-foot figure appears even taller than before, transforming him into a lion among men. His lightly-shaven and well-proportioned face makes him look like a living god. At the start of the stellar age, when humans had only first ascended to the stars, José might have stood among the highest ranks of humanity. However, after millions of years of the Divine Emperor's leadership, he was merely ordinary-looking among his fellow soldiers.

José tugs his shirt's sleeve as he walks. "Explain to me my time sensitive mission, Umi."

"Orders confirmed, Admiral Rodriguez. I have detected one hundred and seventeen enemy vessels approaching the Bloodbearer's starboard bow. Due to the regulations stipulated by Divine Emperor Malathus II, I am unable to engage in combat or diplomacy with a fleet of unknown origins without the presence of a biological officer guiding my actions."

"I see. What information have you managed to collect on our enemies? Are they from the League of 17? Are they Void Roamers?"

The Admiral pauses.

"No. It's been one hundred million years. The likelihood of these ships bearing any marker we know is a trillion to one. Umi, tell me any information you've gathered regarding the encroaching fleet."

José walks down one of the many hallways spread across the Bloodbearer's ten-mile-long body. The ship's length, a status symbol among the many Juggernauts at the Divine Emperor's command, inspires fear and awe in its enemies. However, when attempting to travel from one end to another, it can take a frustratingly long while to reach the traveler's destination.

Sadly, with the Bloodbearer's systems long-overdue for a maintenance check, Umi won't allow Admiral Rodriguez to use the Bloodbearer's teleporter facilities to reach the Bridge. The risk of death or horrific injuries is much too high for her liking.

All he can do is walk there on his own two feet, like a primitive ape.

"Orders received. Condensing known variables into useful subgroups. Enemy ship classifications: Seventy-five light cruisers. Thirteen Punisher-class vessels. Nineteen Strikers. Two Leviathan-class carriers. Twelve..."

Umi rattles off more entries on the list of ships, forcing José to quicken his pace. "Damn. I haven't even gotten my bearings yet, and already I'm facing potential annihilation. How long until the enemy fleet arrives within firing range?"

"They have already done so," Umi replies. "The enemy fleet came to a stop seven minutes before I reanimated you from stasis. They have continued to hold position for the last forty-three minutes and have not initiated any hostile actions. However, I calculate that may change soon due to several transmissions I have intercepted."

José nods. "We're dealing with enemy hostiles with tech a hundred million years more advanced than anything I can comprehend. The moment they attack, I suspect we will perish without firing a single shot."

Umi hesitates.

"Your hypothesis is... erroneous. The enemy vessels appear to come from the Third Era. Their technology is several epochs less advanced than ours."

José scoffs. "The Third Era? That was a mere forty thousand years after humanity defeated the Volgrim. We hadn't even evolved past using Quasar drives for interstellar travel. Fuel inefficiencies alone made such ancient ships mere target practice compared to modern shipmaking. Umi, are you being serious right now, or are you pulling my leg?"

"...Negative. I am incapable of delivering jokes, Admiral. You will understand when you reach the Bridge."

Despite his disbelief, José further quickens his pace. He breaks into a light jog, putting his advanced commando biology into play. Thanks to millions of years of genetic engineering, his body stands at the peak of humanity's biological limitations. Dozens of integrated modulators spread throughout his body deliver additional reserves of oxygen to his blood while also repairing his muscles.

José's speed increases to thirty miles an hour. Such swift movement doesn't even make him so much as sweat, as he casually jogs down the hall at a pace he might describe as 'quite comfortable.'

Minutes later, José arrives at the entrance to the Bloodbearer's Bridge. He steps inside without hesitation, arriving at the heart of the ship's operations.

Located in the center of the Bloodbearer's frame, the Bridge rests close to the 'upper' sections, with hundreds of panels, consoles, and displays hanging from the ceiling or mounted to the walls. Hundreds of tele-projectors activate, creating a dazzling array of three-dimensional images for José to inspect as he arrives.

The newly minted Admiral glances around in confusion. "Ahh, sorry, Umi, but I've only been to the Bridge a few times. I'm not familiar with its layout. Can you guide me to the appropriate consoles?"

"Affirmative. Since you are the sole crew member aboard the Bloodbearer, I will synthesize holographic assistants to guide you. 41.3% of the holographic emitters on the Bridge are non-functional, but more than enough remain for me to create synthetic counselors for all your needs."

A flash of light appears before José. Seconds later, five synthetic humans appear before him, all of them wearing standard white uniforms, with their faces and hair being the only differences between them. Their androgynously-shaped bodies offer no indication of their genders, but their faces and hair give a small amount of distinction between them.

Three female and two male holographic crew members bow politely to the Admiral. The first one, a blond woman with long hair, speaks. "Admiral Rodriguez. We are Artificial Bio-Entities one through five. You may refer to us by any designation you like. What are your orders?"

For a moment, a pang of loneliness appears in José's heart as he gazes at the faces of the several vaguely human-like projections. He swallows his feelings of discomfort and nods at the blond women. "I'll call you, uh, Irene. Irene, please guide me to the tactical computers. And you, the red-haired female, I'll call you Silvia. Please take over the Bloodbearer's movement arrays. You, with the black hair, I'll call you Stefan. Go to the tactical readouts and stand by for my orders. You, with that odd crop-top, I'll call you Mikami. Go to the Engineering Station and collate a list of urgently-required repairs. Finally, you with the long brown hair, I'll call you Penelope. Take over the Admiral's chair for the moment. I'll get back to you after I finish with Irene."

All five holographic entities nod. "Yes, Admiral."

As they split apart, José falls into step beside the blond woman he designated 'Irene.' Her neutral expression and stiff body language betray her distinctly non-human heritage, but it doesn't bother José, given the number of times he's interacted with similar entities.

"Admiral Rodriguez," Irene says. "This display at the head of the Bridge is the Tactical Station. Ordinarily, it requires seven crew at all times, given the vast number of systems running at any given moment. For now, we will have to make do with our limited resources."

The holographic entity's speech patterns appear slightly more human than Umi's, a requirement, given her role as a physical assistant to the crew. However, she always maintains a monotone voice, preventing the known quantity of the Uncanny Valley from forming. Given humanity's ancient predilections to engage in romance with holographic life-forms, the Divine Emperors of past eras always made sure that all holograms must act like pure and unemotional robots, save for rare exceptions involving emergency trauma counseling.

José glances around the Tactical station. He taps several keys and inputs his command codes, all of which have been upgraded to an Admiral's level thanks to his promotion. Dozens of bits of information stream in front of him, allowing him to confirm the status of the enemy fleet.

"Wow, Umi. You weren't kidding after all. How bizarre. I couldn't tell you where to find such a large number of Third Era ships back in the time we came from, let alone a hundred million years later. The few I remember were all in museums or art galleries as props for remembering our history. Whoever this unknown fleet belongs to, I can't imagine they'll pose the slightest threat to us."

"Negative," Umi replies. "The encroaching enemy fleet belongs to a sect of bipedal aliens known as the Kraktol. Based on several pieces of information I've received, the Kraktol are a fierce, warlike reptilian species with immense physical strength and an intelligence index of zero point nine. Their intellect is only slightly below that of humanity's, and thus, they pose a minor threat to this vessel."

"Oh?" José frowns. "If every single enemy ship concentrated their weapons at the weakest point on the Bloodbearer, what are the odds they would be able to catastrophically damage this vessel beyond repair?"

Umi hesitates.

"...Zero percent. Their firepower is insufficient to penetrate the Bloodbearer's hull."

José rubs the bridge of his nose. "Right. So, in what way are they a threat to us?"

Once again, Umi hesitates before answering.

"...Apologies, Admiral. My calculations were erroneous. My internal matrices have suffered catastrophic degradation over time. The enemy fleet does not pose a threat to the Bloodbearer. This understanding of the current situation was only possible due to a human's intervention. I now comprehend why the enemy vessels have not moved forward to attack."

With a sigh, José nods. "Yes, yes. Look, since we aren't in any danger, send a hail to the lead vessel. I will attempt a diplomatic approach to show them we mean them no harm."

"With all due respect, Admiral, I do not advise this course of action. Revealing your identity to the enemy commander may result in unexpected variables."

"In what way?"

Umi falls silent.

It takes several seconds before she formulates a reply.

"The Kraktol are unlikely to empathize with anything you say. Additionally, we are not aware of the galactic situation outside our vessel. One hundred million years is a long time for the political map to shift. I hypothesize these enemies covet the technology located aboard the Bloodbearer. They will stop at nothing to obtain it."

"Your concern is appreciated," José says, as he straightens his posture. The Admiral walks to the center of the Bridge, where he stands atop an elevated platform meant for communicating with other vessels. "Send the hail, Umi. Wait! Hold on a second."

José glances at the five holographic entities aboard the bridge. "Irene, Silvia, Stefan, Mikami, Penelope. Come here, please. Equip yourselves with energy rifles and stand at attention behind me. Umi, narrow the field of view to only the six of us. Once everyone assembles, send the hail."

For once, the synthmind doesn't question Admiral Rodriguez. She computes the effects of his command and beeps an affirmation. "Order acknowledged. This is an interesting ploy, Admiral Rodriguez. I believe it may stimulate the effect you wish."

"I certainly hope so, Umi."