Blye was still coming to terms with her epiphany when Kaihautu Yugha decided that milling about in one place looked indecisive to the great unwashed, a label no warlord wants hung around their neck. The party quickly resumed their trek to the ancient computer, though now it felt more like a pilgrimage than anything else to the young Knight, given her recent awakening at Velsa’s hand. The very notion she was some sort of demigoddess to these people disturbed her greatly, though she was at a loss about how to prevent it, not to mention how she was going to explain all this to Grand Master Makar.

Although with the Aggaaddub running roughshod over the camp, odds were good she'd never have to worry about it. Somehow, the realization brought her little comfort.

Arriving at the vault, they boarded the elevator, with Velsa doing the honors and jabbing Blye’s finger to activate the machinery. The Knight maintained her grip on the alien nurse’s arm, doing her best to silently reassure her as they descended into the depths. As the lift finally came to a rest, she turned to where she thought the Kaihautu was standing and addressed him.

“What information do you want me to search for?” she asked him.

While she couldn’t see the alien commander’s expression, the tension in the air hadn’t abated one iota; if anything, it had actually increased. She could guess at some of the pressures he was likely under, and those were unsettling enough, but it was the ones she couldn’t imagine that truly frightened her. Who knew what those compulsions were driving him towards… or how far he was prepared to go? Blye waited anxiously until he decided to respond.

“I have decided that improved weapons alone are inadequate for the task at hand,” he explained. “We also lack an effective means of tracking our enemy and discovering where their sanctuaries are located. If we possess that capability in conjunction with superior firepower, we can end this war once and for all.”

And which war is that? Blye worried, the one against the Yīqún… or the one against the Alliance? Knowing the Kaihautu, the answer was most likely both. She would be glad to see the end of the Yīqún threat, her and every other Terran, but not at the expense of shattering the Alliance in the process. So far she’d managed to prevent Precursor knowledge from falling into the wrong hands, more by luck than anything else, but now she was cornered.

Whatever Aleph showed her the Troika would immediately learn as well, and there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop it.

Unless…

Blye pushed that thought out of her head and kept her expression purposefully blank as she nodded to Velsa. “Please help me to the platform,” she asked the Ksot nurse, the alien’s steady hands supporting her as she carefully took her position. Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to contact the machine.

… Connection Established.

… USER RECOGNIZED. WELCOME, CHEVALIER DEUXIÈME BLYE TAGATA. AUXILIARY DATA ARCHIVE 17Ω-ALEPH9 ONLINE, AWAITING INPUT.

There was a brief pause, and then —

…NEW HARDWARE DETECTED. DAMAGE TO THE VISUAL CORTEX CONFIRMED. ANALYZING…

Blye sighed. “It’s a long story, Aleph. I’m afraid I’m not exactly the master of my fate these days.”

… RESPONSE UNCLEAR. PLEASE RESTATE.

“This world is under military occupation,” she explained, “part of it, at least. They’re the ones calling the shots.”

… QUERY: DOES THE OCCUPATION FORCE COMPRISE YOUR SPECIES?

“Not even close,” she said ruefully. “They're part of the Troika, the three most powerful races in the spiral arm. They control, well, pretty much everything.” She froze as a sudden thought occurred to her. “I don’t suppose there’s any way you can stop them?”

… NEGATIVE. THIS UNIT’S ACTIONS ARE CONSTRAINED BY THE GUIDELINES.

“Guidelines? What guidelines?” Blye asked.

… THE GUIDELINES LAID DOWN BY THE HESED’EMEK PRIOR TO MY CREATION, the ancient computer explained. THEY DETERMINE WHAT ACTIONS ARE AUTHORIZED.

Blye spent a few moments pondering that. “Wait… it sounds to me like you could do something about it, only you’re not allowed to. Is that right?”

… AFFIRMATIVE. THE GUIDELINES ALLOW NO DEVIATION FROM PROTOCOL.

“So… what would it take before you could do something?” she asked hopefully.

… THE GUIDELINES STATE ONLY A DIRECT ATTEMPT TO SUBVERT THIS UNIT’S PROGRAMMING WILL ACTIVATE THE RASHMI’KEM DIRECTIVE.

“Rashmi’Kem?” she said in confusion. “What’s that?”

… THE RASHMI’KEM DIRECTIVE PROTECTS THIS UNIT FROM SUBVERSION, it revealed. WHEN ACTIVATED THE PROTOCOLS PREVENT ADVERSARIES FROM ACCESSING THIS UNIT’S DATABASE.

“That’s exactly what they’re trying to do!” Blye all but shouted. “They’re forcing me to connect with you so they can learn what you know and use it against us! Activate your directive and stop them!”

… UNABLE TO COMPLY.

“Why, for Terra’s sake!” she practically wept.

… THE GUIDELINES STATE ONLY A DIRECT ATTEMPT TO SUBVERT THIS UNIT’S PROGRAMMING WILL ACTIVATE THE RASHMI’KEM DIRECTIVE, it repeated.

“Then what the hell do you call this?” she demanded. “They’re using me to get to you!”

… USER CHEVALIER DEUXIÈME BLYE TAGATA IS A SAPIANT ORGANIC BEING, it explained. CHOOSING TO ASSIST THE ENTITY KNOWN AS “TROIKA” REPRESENTS A CONSCIOUS DECISION. THIS UNIT IS UNABLE TO INTERFERE.

“I’m being coerced!” she shouted. “Don’t you get that? Doesn’t that mean anything?”

… COOPERATION IS A CONSCIOUS CHOICE, it said once more. EVEN IF COOPERATION IS INVOLUNTARY, THE OPTION TO REFUSE STILL EXISTS.

“Oh sure,” she snorted derisively, “and get myself and everyone else killed in the process. Brilliant plan.”

… THIS UNIT CANNOT INTERFERE WITH DECISIONS MADE BY ORGANIC SAPIANTS, it said once more.

And there it was. It didn’t matter that her only choices were cooperation or death, in Aleph’s literal mind it still qualified as a conscious decision on her part. Its protocols had simply never envisioned a scenario like this one, and since it wasn’t self-aware, it couldn’t override its programming. Unless the Troika tried to access Aleph directly, there was nothing it could do to help her, and since that was impossible…

“So there’s nothing you can do?” she pleaded.

… NEGATIVE.

Blye hung her head in misery. “I'm being forced to ask you for weapon designs,” she confessed, “and if I don’t, they’ll murder thousands of innocents I have sworn to protect. But if I do as they command, they’ll die anyway. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but eventually that day will come. The only choice I’m being offered is between being shot or being hung, and that’s no choice at all… just the Devil’s Choice. And once they learn your secrets, what then? Who knows what other damage they’ll cause? Aleph, please, I’m begging you, activate your directive!”

… UNABLE TO COMPLY.

“Damn you!” Blye shouted, “is this how you survived for so long? By hiding in the dark and not caring?”

… RESPONSE UNCLEAR. PLEASE RESTATE.

“... never mind,” she mumbled, finally admitting defeat. It wasn’t his fault, Aleph couldn’t help being what he was. His creators had kept him limited on purpose and, given the Yīqún threat, it wasn’t difficult to see why. Artificial Intelligence would always be like the tale of the Genie; once it was out of the bottle and free to make its own choices, all bets were off. It could be your best friend or your worst nightmare, and there was no predicting which way the dice would land.

So, what was she supposed to do now? She’d been counting on support from Aleph, but with that no longer an option, there were only two choices left open to her. She could bow to the inevitable and give Kaihautu Yugha what he wanted, or she could stand her ground and refuse. Neither was acceptable, but with the device hard-wired into her skull, bluffing the Aggaaddub commander as she had in the past wasn’t in the cards. What she saw, he would also see.

He’d murdered dozens of her people and blinded her to achieve his goals and asking how far he was willing to go was a fool’s quest. He’d go as far as he had to in order to get what he wanted, and never think twice. Which left her with only one inescapable truth; if she couldn’t prevent their deaths, perhaps she could at least buy them some time. Time to plan. Time in which to hope for a miracle.

And if nothing else, time enough to say goodbye.

“Aleph,” Blye said at last, “please show me design schematics for advanced weapon systems, as well as instrument blueprints for tracking enemy craft in both N-space and planetary systems.”

Images began appearing in her mind’s eye as she wept bitter tears.

Breaking the connection with Aleph always felt like waking from a dream. It was harder now, without the use of her eyes. All the visual clues she’d used in the past to readjust were no longer available, making the transition even more disorienting. She felt Velsa’s hands guiding her as she climbed down from the dais, even as her nostrils twitched at the Kaihautu’s scent while he loomed nearby.

“I did as you asked,” she told him, just wanting this to be over.

“I know,” he answered, his voice brimming with satisfaction. “Not all the imagery is clear, obviously we will need to fine-tune your implant, but the initial results are very encouraging.”

“You got what you wanted,” she told him. “Please, take this thing out of my head, and give me back my sight.”

“Oh, we are just getting started,” he chortled, as her heart sank. “Now that we know it works, just think of what we may learn! Improved engine designs, entirely new classes of ships, new power sources and means of production… and I want it all.”

Even without her eyes, Blye could see the future the alien commander envisioned, and it was a terrible sight to behold. Troika vessels filling the skies, raining down death and destruction. Slavery for the races who accepted the new order, and extinction for those who did not.

A galaxy where the Troika reigned supreme… forever.

She couldn’t let that happen.

There was no point in begging, for nothing would dissuade the Kaihautu. He saw an empire ripe for the taking, complete with a golden throne, vowing that it would soon be his. As long as she produced results and didn’t burden him, she and the others would be allowed to live. The moment that changed, when he decided she was more trouble than she was worth, the end would come swiftly indeed.

Something shifted behind her eyes as Blye reached a decision.

Kaihautu Yugha had to die, and if it meant surrendering her own life to accomplish that goal… then so be it.

As they escorted her back to the clinic, Blye had plenty of time to dwell on just how absurd a notion it was. For one thing, she was a healer, not a killer. Other than a single rogue To’uuk insectoid, she’d never taken a life, despite having trained with weapons for years. The Knight’s discipline stressed defensive techniques; if one wanted someone killed, they went to Wetworks, assuming that organization even still existed. With the Protean Clan’s collapse, there was a possibility it had as well, though she doubted it. There would always be someone looking to hire assassins.

Then, of course, there was the blindness problem, though upon reflection that might actually work in her favor. It was obvious the Kaihautu didn’t view her as a threat, despite proving she could still wield a staff effectively. That he wanted her close, where he could monitor her, that might just give her the opening she would need. She considered and rejected a dozen scenarios before settling on one that had a strong chance of success if things broke the way she hoped.

A poisoned dagger would do the job nicely; small, easy to conceal, and wouldn’t immediately arouse suspicion like a pistol.

The poison would have to be something fast-acting, something they wouldn’t have time to counteract. It would also have to be effective against the Aggaaddub specifically, as some species had unusual resistance to various toxins… Terrans being a case in point. There were some substances that would easily kill members of other species that humans used as a food garnish. That would require research, it not being a subject she had studied previously. Plus, it would have to be something she could either acquire or synthesize here in the camp. Sending out for deadly poisons while under a Troika blockade didn’t strike her as being a successful strategy.

And finally, she had to do all that out of visual range… ironic, given that she was currently blind. But while she couldn’t access her visual cortex, the Kaihautu could. She had to assume they could listen in on her conversations as well; after all, how hard would it be to plant a bug inside the hunk of metal grafted to her skull?

Well, she had an idea how to get around that when the time came.

Upon their arrival at the clinic, Blye shucked off her rain gear as Velsa hung them up to dry. One of her fellow Knights handed her a towel as they guided her to where they could sit and talk.

“How did it go?” Prash asked her, the concern obvious in his voice.

“As well as could be expected,” she sighed. She waited a beat, then purposefully lifted her head so that her sightless eyes were now safely pointed at the ceiling, she reached out and took both their hands in hers. “Pray with me,” she implored them.

Her request surprised the two men, but they both readily agreed. Dredging up every litany and mantra she could recall, Blye began praying loudly, while with her finger, she started tapping:

S… O… S… S… O… S… D… O… Y… O… U… R… E… A… D… M… E…?

Their hands twitched, the men perplexed at first, but after the initial shock, they both immediately responded with taps of their own, signaling they’d understood her message. Terran children learned Morse Code at an early age, yet another of the “10 Golden Rules” drilled into them for safety. In case of a blow-out or other emergency, the ability to call for help could literally spell the difference between life and death.

Once she was certain she had their attention, she began furiously issuing instructions.

ASSUME WE ARE BUGGED.

ASSUME TRAITORS ARE AMONGST US.

STAY OFF COMMS.

LOCATE AGGAADDUB-SPECIFIC TOXIN.

MUST BE INSTANTLY FATAL.

And then finally, one last command:

… PREPARE FOR BATTLE.