Six months worth of video data streams into José Rodriguez's cortical implant. These videos, recorded by José himself, rapidly play out in his mind at a fifty-to-one time dilation ratio. Countless conversations and moments all occur inside his head, back to back, expanding his consciousness and filling in memory blanks the Admiral never knew he had.

The Terran continues to hold Lele in his arms, but his posture slackens noticeably. While the Kessu and Kraktol watch, his gaze grows distant. He stares into space for tens of minutes, slowly absorbing Umi's data as she feeds it to him.

His emergence from the stasis capsule.

His realization that all of his fellow crew-members had died.

Watching the liquefied remains of his best friend spill out of the stasis capsule.

Struggling to suppress his emotions as he took control of the ship's mainframe.

Fighting the Kraktol, outwitting their commander, and eventually killing him.

These memories, and more, play inside José's mind's eye. Unbeknownst to him, several hours crawl by. The Kraktol and Kessu become restless as they watch the Admiral stand in place, motionless, unmoving.

"What's happening?" Megla whispers.

Penelope folds her hands together in front of herself. "The Admiral is currently viewing the events of the past six months via a time-accelerated data-link. This data streams to his brain via a neural interface, allowing him to observe the life he's lived since his emergence from the stasis capsule, back before he met you."

Megla's eyes widen. "Really? Kyargh! That's great! That's basically the same as getting all of his memories back!"

The bio-entity shakes her head. "No. It isn't. Reflecting upon one's memories is a sensation unlike viewing a video recreation of them. The thoughts of that time, the textures you may have felt, the smell in the air, all of those things are an integral part of the remembering process. None of them are involved in a simple audio-visual recording, meaning that, for the Admiral, viewing these memories is much more akin to observing the life of someone else through their eyes."

She continues. "Think of a time in your life when you decided to trust someone. Perhaps there was a warm feeling in your heart. Perhaps, after a long period of working with them, you had grown to see them as a peer, a kin-like figure you could treat as an equal. In your mind, many subtle biochemical changes accompanied that realization. Later, when reflecting upon that moment, you would inadvertently recall those sensations, subtly reminding yourself of why you chose to trust that person."

The bio-entity's expression becomes solemn. "Admiral Rodriguez is unlikely to experience anything of that sort. He will experience emotions, certainly, upon observing the death of his kin. He will once again suffer the heart-rending pain of watching his brother's liquefied remains spill out onto the ground in front of him. However, it will have a different sensation in his mind. A different bio-chemical reaction, one of a distant, untouchable loss."

After Penelope concludes, Megla's gaze softens. She recalls how she felt over the past several months as she grew closer to the Admiral, learning to trust him and his judgment.

But what if she hadn't experienced those moments herself? What if, instead, she only saw those moments through a camera? Would she still feel the same way about the Admiral as she does now?

Megla opens her mouth several times to speak, but closes it again moments later. After several attempts, she chuffs through her nose. "Kurrrgh. I don't know. Even if the Admiral isn't quite the same, he'll still see what good crewman we all are. At the least, he'll understand we have no hostile intentions toward him. We can work our way back to being friends."

"Perhaps..." Soren says, chiming in. "But there are two more elements you haven't considered, Megla."

Soren looks at her sister meaningfully before continuing.

"When the Admiral first awoke from stasis, he was under a tremendous mental pressure to stabilize himself, push his emotions to the back of his mind, and focus on his task at hand. The Bloodbearer was in pieces, barely functioning, and there was a fleet of Kraktol warships at his front door. He didn't have the time or luxury to sort through his emotions. Now, he does. He has no such pressure limiting him. Additionally, once you and I came aboard, he probably had to modulate his thoughts and not show any weakness. He wasn't sure if he could fully trust us or not."

"Secondly," Soren continues, "The Admiral won't ever be able to fully verify any of these video recordings. What if, instead, he suspects that we edited the videos to our advantage? For all he knows, this 'future' business is pure nonsense. We might really be creatures made by the Children of Ghül. We might have killed his whole crew, forged videos, and performed other heinous acts, all to get him to lower his guard."

Megla scoffs. "We'd never do something so horrible!"

"Of course not," Soren replies. "But does the Admiral know that?"

Megla falls silent, as does Soren. Both sisters turn back to the Admiral, gazing upon his unmoving form with looks of reverence and sadness.

No matter how this shakes out, their Admiral, their friend, will never be the same as he was before.

Megla's thoughts turn bitter.

It's all my fault. If I had brought a few more supplies... if I'd just outfitted myself with better weapons and relied on the Admiral less, I could have protected him. Instead, I let him take care of everything. Why didn't I bring some better armor and guns? Why did I let him charge under the mountain recklessly? It wouldn't have taken any effort to come just a bit more prepared.

He died because of me. He died because I was stupid. Weak. Pathetic. I can't even beat one measly simulated monster...

Her thoughts become tumultuous, but Megla doesn't give voice to the anger in her heart. Soren doesn't even notice the look of guilt on her sister's face.

...

Minutes pass. Hours.

Lele falls asleep in José's grasp. His warm embrace comforts her, enveloping the kitten in a world of peaceful dreams. The other Kessu curl up on the floor or wander around, some of them apprehensive, others bored.

Still, the Admiral doesn't move. Many of the Kessu leave to get food, then come back later, only to find the Terran still standing in the same spot, his eyes fixed on nothing in particular.

"How much longer will it take for the Admiral to view the video files?" Megla eventually asks. "Standing in one spot like that for so many hours... it can't be good for him."

Penelope presses her hands together and splays out her fingers. "I do not know. It could be a few more minutes, or several hours. However, based upon the brain waves I've observed, it seems his emotions have become more and more tumultuous. I recommend everyone leave for a while and give the Admiral some space. When he awakens from his trance, I imagine he might say some things he'll later regret."

"I understand," Megla replies, firming her will. "Even so, I'll stay. I don't want to leave him alone, not at a time like this."

"No, the doctor is right," Soren objects. "We should leave. The Kessu, too. I believe that right now, the Admiral is experiencing a tidal wave of emotions. We can visit him later, once he's gathered his thoughts."

Megla opens her mouth to retort, but thinks better of it. The giant crocodile sighs and shakes her head. "...Fine. We'll come back in a bit, then. Penelope, you'll tell us when he's come to his senses, won't you?"

"Naturally," The holo-doctor says. "The Admiral is a highly trained Terran, capable of going several days without sleep if necessary. You, however, are not. Get some rest. Doctor's orders."

"Haha..." Megla laughs hollowly. "I'll try."

Shortly after, she and Soren leave. The other Kessu follow, all except for Rags, Baaru, and Nyoor. These three, all closely related to Lele, stay behind, since they want to make sure she doesn't have any unpleasant experiences.

It takes another half a day before Admiral Rodriguez finally blinks his eyes and lowers his head. The Terran's subtle movements escape Nyoor and Baaru's notice, but not Rags. The young Kessu meows in surprise. "Look! The great Precursor! He's moving!"

All three Kessu stay seated, watching José from a distance. The Terran shakes the fog from his eyes, takes a few steps backward, and falls into a sitting position, his knees buckling.

Clang!

The Terran's heavy body thumps against the deck, jarring the metal plating. Startled, Lele awakens with a fright and jumps out of José's arms, her eyes darting around wildly. It takes the kitten a moment to realize what happened.

"Ah! Big Baldy! Are you awake, now?"

Her question goes unanswered. With his arms unencumbered, José raises his hands to his face and presses each palm against his eyes.

"...Dead. All dead. It can't be true."

The Terran swallows heavily, his throat catching with emotion.

"Stupid. Stupid! How could we make such a stupid mistake?! How could the Bloodbearer end up in a plasma storm?! If they'd just run more tests, paid more attention to the god-damned maintenance logs..."

José mutters to himself, ignoring the kitten pestering him. His eyes flick back and forth rapidly as he digests the months worth of videos he's seen, churning them around in his head like a madman.

Suddenly, the Terran jumps to his feet. He turns toward the wall of stasis capsules, strides toward a nearby control panel, and begins pressing buttons rapid-fire.

Penelope appears next to him, phasing into existence in an instant.

"Crew-member Rodriguez. What are you doing?"

José ignores her.

"-can't be dead. Someone had to have survived. Admiral Baruchen? Lieutenant Warner? I can't be the only one."

The Terran flicks through multiple screens worth of data, all of them reflecting the biological integrity of the stasis capsule's occupants. One by one, José flicks through their contents, his expression turning grimmer and grimmer as the list of negative bio-signs feeds into his eyes.

"Fuck. Fuck! FUCK! Goddammit!"

He pounds the console, smashing his fist against the screen, which somehow doesn't crack under the impact. Again and again, José helplessly punches the screen, enraged at what he sees.

"How could they all be dead?! It's not possible! I can't be the only one who made it! None of this makes a goddamn lick of sense! FUCK!"

Penelope watches, wordlessly, as the Terran releases waves of anger and rage against the poor, undeserving control panel. However, she makes no motion to stop him.

Similarly, Lele gazes with flattened ears at her friend, Big Baldy, as he screams in rage at nobody in particular. His cries become progressively more anguished, and his fury more chaotic, as he struggles to make sense of the thoughts in his head.

Eventually, José stops punching the console. His fists drip blood onto the floor, leaving streams of crimson liquid all across the deckplates.

The Terran presses his bloody palms against his face and thrashes his head from left to right.

"Nick! Nicky-boy! How can you be gone?! You were better than me! It should have been me who died, not you! Not you! God fucking dammit!"

Then, the Terran goes still.

He continues pressing his hands against his face, but his words become thoughts, expressed only in his heart. He sobs emotionally as countless memories, created over thousands of years, stream into his brain.

How could Nick have died?! Why did it have to be me who survived? It's not fair. He deserved better!

Lele takes several steps back. She draws close to her grandmother and grandfather, who wrap their arms around her.

"Grandpa... I'm scared. What's wrong with Big Baldy? He's... he's so angry. I've never seen him this mad before."

Nyoor shakes his head.

"It's not something you'd understand, Lele. When your mother died... your daddy felt the same way. Helpless. Angry. Resentful. Words can't express that sort of pain... that level of loss. The Precursor just has to let his anger out. He won't be able to move on, otherwise."

...

After half an hour, José slowly lowers his hands. His face, now covered in blood, resembles a ghastly specter of death. He stares hollowly at the blood-covered panel, its bio-indicators seemingly taunting him with their readouts.

"...Why did I have to survive? It's not fair. If only I had died in stasis like the rest of them..."

Penelope approaches.

"Crew-member Rodriguez. You are one of Ramma's Chosen. Recite your creed. Ponder on Ramma's wisdom. What would she say at a time like this?"

The Terran falls silent. He stops mumbling to himself, closes his eyes, and forces his thoughts to align themselves. As a soldier who has fought on innumerable battlefields, slain the mightiest of enemies, and helped topple empires, even in his weakest state, José still has the mental fortitude to take hold of his mind and replay Ramma's Creed.

"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 never give in to the heretics who stain our creed."

José's breathing evens out. His grief, his endless anguish, slowly fades into the back of his mind. He opens his eyes and stares ahead, a blank expression swallowing his face.

"...What am I supposed to do next?"

Penelope shakes her head. "Since you are, presumably, the last living Terran in the universe, you have become the de facto leader of humanity. You alone hold the keys to your species' survival. I do not have the right to give you any orders."

José sighs. "But... there's no point in continuing without everyone else. Without Nick, without my Admiral, my friends and family... what use is there in going on alone?"

"I cannot give you any orders," Penelope repeats. "But, I may be able to offer you guidance. Suggestions. As the Admiral of the Bloodbearer, you have a unique opportunity to investigate what happened to humanity. You can uncover that which led to their demise. Perhaps, given time, you might even be able to bring them back. Does that not sound like a worthy goal? A purpose worth existing to fulfill?"

Slowly, José nods, his head's movement appearing somewhat robotic.

"...a purpose. Yes. I don't know, maybe?"

Uncertain of what to say, José's arms drop to his sides. He takes a few steps toward another monitoring console, one with a chair placed before it, and sits down. He plunks into the seat heavily, exhaling as he lowers.

"If everyone is dead and I'm the last human alive... that means I can't kill myself. I have an obligation to my species, right? I have to live on for everyone else's sake. I have to find out how they met their end."

"I think that is a good goal," Penelope says, encouraging him. "Besides. You're not alone, José. You have friends in this new world. How about the Kessu? You think they're cute, don't you? You like the cute kitty cats."

Penelope's words, despite sounding childish, prove to be exactly what José needs to hear. He nods along, smiling faintly as he recalls the Kessu. He raises his head and looks to his right, across the room, where Lele and the other three Kessu sit.

"...Yeah. They're cute. Fluffy cats. I like the cute kitties..."

Penelope rests her hand on the top of José's head. "You've endured well, Admiral. I know it's been hard on you, but you'll pull through. You just need time to yourself."

The Terran lowers his eyes to the floor. He nods slowly, barely listening to Penelope's words.

"I'm... I'm going to the holodeck."

Abruptly, the Terran stands up. Penelope watches as he starts walking toward the door. Invisible question marks pop up over her head as she observes José's odd change of mood. A moment later, she realizes something.

"Wait. Admiral... I would not advise taking any drastic action at a time like this. You should sit down with me for several days, talk about your feelings, and-"

"I don't want to," José says, cutting Penelope off. "I'm the Admiral, aren't I? You can't order me around."

Penelope falters. "No, I cannot."

José strides past the Kessu. The giant double-doors open before him, and he pauses before exiting.

"Thank you for your... guidance. But I'll handle this my way."

Without another word, he strides out, allowing the door to close behind him.

The four Kessu, bewildered, turn to look at Penelope.

"Mraww! What was that all about?" Baaru asks. "Where is the great Precursor going?"

Penelope appears beside the Kessu instantly, teleporting to them via her holographic transmitters.

"The Admiral is... he's going to the holodeck. Evidently, he has yet to truly vent his emotions. I cannot recommend the actions he's about to take... but male and female Terrans have different ways of handling their feelings. So long as he releases his built-up anguish and doesn't stuff it down until it breaks him, he should be fine."

Baaru, uncertain of what the bio-entity means, merely nods her head. "...Oh. I, erm, see? Well, let us hope the Precursor can handle things on his own, then."

"Grandma!" Lele says. "I want to go see Big Baldy! Maybe I can help him!"

"I advise against visiting the Admiral at this time," Penelope quickly responds. "We must leave him alone until he is ready to see us. Not even you will be immune from his wrath."

Lele decides not to protest.

"Meow! Fine, whatever. But I know Big Baldy better than anyone. He always smiles when he sees me. I bet I'd make him feel better!"

"Haha." Penelope laughs in a vaguely human manner. "Yes, I believe you will indeed be the ultimate antidote to his loneliness. For now though, there's nothing we can do but wait. Do not underestimate the resilience of a Terran's mind. The Admiral once lived for two hundred years, isolated, in a hostile faction's prison system. Enemies everywhere. Nobody to talk to. He ultimately escaped with his sanity intact. I believe we will witness a similar result this time, as well."

Nyoor shakes his head helplessly. "The ways of the great Precursor are truly beyond us. How can we mere mortals understand the mind of one as long-lived and wise as he?"

"I don't know, love," Baaru says, licking her husband's fur. "I don't know."

The room falls silent as everyone wonders just what exactly the Terran is going to do, all by himself, on the holodeck.