You’ll find her betwixt the light,

For e’er she searches the night,

To find those lost and afraid,

That she might grant her aid.

Unlike the isle of ancient tomes,

The Worldship calls the void her home,

And through the sea of stars she roams,

To find those yet lost and alone.

So fear not for your home is the Avalon,

And where she goes we’ll all be along,

Surrounded by her mighty fleet,

A sword with which none can compete.

Every world will test our mettle,

But we will take every battle,

Never lost or alone,

The Avalon is our home.

So remember my children,

We are never lost,

Remember my children,

We are never alone,

For the Avalon is our Home.

Hephaestus

Bridget was at a workstation staring blankly at the genetic sequence in front of her. It had long since dissolved into a kaleidoscope of colors and symbols as her brain lagged behind her will. A steaming cup of coffee was gently set down to her left, and a gentle tap on her shoulder startled her back to reality.

She narrowly missed knocking over the coffee with her hand and, upon noticing it, gratefully grabbed it drinking deeply from the cup. “Thank you,” she said, turning to look at who had brought her the coffee. She nearly dropped the drink when she saw Doctor Voinovich leaning against the counter behind her, a smug smile on his face. “I wasn’t expecting you Doctor.”

“No, I don’t imagine you were,” he replied. “I need another set of eyes on something, and I don’t trust these perfection chasing imbeciles to understand what I am attempting to achieve. I am hoping that someone who is less tainted by ideology will be more useful, now catch.” Doctor Voinovich tossed a small data stick to Bridget that she caught deftly in spite of still being in a slight haze.

Without question, Bridget plugged the device into her workstation and opened up the contents. It was a file for reading a stored genetic sequence, much like the one she’d just been viewing. She quickly recognized the primary donor as being the sample that the Doctor had taken a few weeks before.

Thinking of that brought Bridget’s mind back to a few weeks ago when she was still primarily doing the grunt work of the lab. She still did plenty of that, but lately she’d been allowed to analyze sequences for errors not caught by other researchers or the machines they utilized. It was grueling work, but it utilized the education she’d been giving herself in her time both in and out of the lab, so she didn’t mind. She imagined that the Doctor was looking for a similar service from her now.

So Bridget dug deep into the file that she’d been given. Much of the sequence had been left unmodified, much more than was normal, so she focused on the areas that had been. She skimmed over the areas that she was used to being modified, finding many of the standard changes. The clone would be a physically ideal version of the donor, taller, able to easily put on muscle, have faster reflexes, and sharper senses. A cut above even the vastly improved Homo Novus.

She’d seen samples of ancient human genetic code, and it wasn’t pretty. How they’d managed to survive in such a flawed state was beyond her. This was why she was surprised to see that there were sections of the genetic sequence that had been reverted to a state more in line with that of homo sapiens. Something about that made her suspicious, so she went and viewed sections that had been improved by Surina long ago and was shocked to find the changes undone, not only in the Doctor’s version but in the subject’s original sequence.

Bridget turned to the Doctor, his smug grin had widened further. “I see you’ve stumbled onto the first piece of the puzzle. Save your questions for when you have the next piece. It will make more sense then.”

Bridget didn’t bother to respond. Instead she turned back to the screen and dove deeper. She needed to understand why was undoing Surina’s legacy, at least in part, the key? It certainly wasn’t the quality of his work. He had greatly improved upon humanity’s original genetic code. They had become a superior species to what had crawled out from the mud of their homeworld. So why had this soldier regressed? And why did Doctor Voinovich seem to think that was the key?

Suddenly there was a hand on her shoulder, and Bridget jumped in surprise before looking up at Doctor Voinovich. “Leave it be for now, I didn’t crack the secret in a day I hardly expect you to be able to understand and also find any errors I may have missed immediately. I’ve already passed down orders to McKay to free up some time in your schedule for this. Not that he knows what this is, only that I have you working on one of my side projects. If you are asked just say that I’m not ready to reveal what I’m working on yet and want it kept to as few eyes as possible for now.”

Bridget nodded, “I can do that. Thank you for the opportunity sir.”

Doctor Voinovich shook his head, “There is no need to thank me. We all do as we must. Now go get some rest. McKay has been telling me you’re working longer and longer hours. His incessant whining is obnoxious, but he is right to be concerned. If you burn yourself out you will be useless to me. Learn how to rest.”

Without waiting for a retort, he disappeared, and Bridget was alone. She took the hint from his earlier statements and packed up to go home, making sure to unplug the data stick and place it safely in her small backpack. She was already leaving later than she probably should have been as she’d been working longer and longer hours as of late. The payoffs were good, and she was already far from her days of mucking out the growth vats.

As it turned out, the Governor had taken an interest in their research and had diverted some of the contract workers from The Avalon for the labs use. This had led to them having an abundance of low-level labor, which had freed Bridget up to spend all of her time learning the secrets of the human genome. She was still far from the level of knowledge that the original team possessed, but she held her own at the tasks that they deemed within her ability.

Bridget got on the train as she continued to think back on and decompress from her long day of work. She collapsed into one of the seats lining the sides of the car. It was incredible the progress that had been made in the short time since The Avalon Fleet had made contact with their world. Sure the seats weren’t exactly of premium quality and hurt to sit on for too long, but it was a vast improvement over nothing.

It wasn’t long before the train came upon her stop, and she departed to begin the short walk back to her home. She made her way to the small apartment she shared with her family, quietly opening the door, not sure if they were asleep yet or not. She snuck into the apartment, careful to make as little noise as possible. She turned around after closing the door to see her father standing at the end of the short entrance hallway, a disapproving look on his face.

Bridget grimaced at the sight. Her parent’s concern over her long work hours had been growing from a minor nuisance into an active problem as of late. Her father, in particular, had been quite vocal on the subject in the past few days. He wanted her to slow down on work so that she could actually enjoy her life or some nonsense. Trying to explain that this is what she enjoyed in life hadn’t had much effect.

“Dad, I’d thought you’d be asleep or at least winding down by now.” Bridget tried for casual, but her voice cracked slightly as she talked, betraying the nervousness she felt.

“You know why daughter of mine. You need to curb your hours. You’ll burn yourself out working like this. There’s no need to go so far. Maybe before it would have been necessary, but now that the colony is prosperous again you really don’t need to push yourself so hard.” Her father shifted from leaning against the wall to a more neutral stance as he spoke.

Bridget sighed, “It’s not that I feel like I have to. I genuinely love what I’m doing. If it makes you feel any better the head of the project personally told me pretty much the same thing tonight. I’ll scale back my hours a bit. It will still be more than what you’ll likely approve of, but I can’t ignore you and my boss both.”

Bridget’s father gave a wan smile and strode down the hallway, gathering her up in a hug. “You’re as stubborn as I am. I’m just concerned, because I gave too much of myself to work when I was young. If your mother hadn’t smacked some sense into me I probably would have killed myself doing it. I just don’t want you to make the same mistake.”

Bridget returned her father’s fierce hug. “Don’t worry father of mine. The message is received loud and clear now. I’ll tone it back a bit. I promise you though that this is work worth doing, even if I’m not allowed to talk about it much.”

“That’s fine, now go get yourself some rest. I need to be up tomorrow as well.”

Bridget nodded and made her way to her room, collapsing into her bed without undressing. Her mind buzzed with thoughts of the day for a few moments before sleep overtook her weary mind and drug her down into its warm embrace.

***

Two squires attended to his armor, placing the heavy plates and tightening straps to hold the pieces in place. When they finished, he tested his range of motion and flexibility, stopping when they returned with his weapons. He took his sword, admiring the skillfully wrought if somewhat ordinary-looking blade. If not for the glowing runes of ancient script that ran down its length, one would think it the blade of a local man at arms.

Next, he received his shield. This particular item was far more ornate and proudly displayed a brilliant coat of arms. He exited his tent and came up to his mare. She was the finest steed a man could ask for. She gently butted her head against his palm, and he looked to one of his squires. The boy quickly produced a carrot, and he took it, feeding it to the horse. Then he strapped his sword to her side and deftly mounted her.

As he strapped himself into the saddle one of the squires approached with his lance. Once he had finished with his own task, he took the lance and told the boys to prepare for his return, though he knew that on this day, he very well may not do that. Dark forces were at work, and he feared none would survive.

***

The air was thick with rain and the sharp tang of copper. The mud of the battlefield was thick with the blood from hundreds of men. Yet he remained to witness it. He was left undefeated, and yet his armies lay broken. What was a king without his people to lead? What failure of a leader survives the crumbling of his army around him?

***

Bridget awoke with a start at a loud banging on her door. “-time to wake up. Though with how much you’ve been working I say you call in for a rest day. You deserve it.” Bridget’s tired brain only partially registered her father’s half-shouted wake-up call.

Groaning, she slipped out of her bed onto the floor and crawled over to her closet to try and salvage some clothes for the day. She pondered the strange dream that she’d been torn from. It had felt so real. But she had been a man in metal armor? It was like one of those ancient earth stories that had gotten popular recently since The Avalon found them.

She shook off the thoughts of the dream and turned back to getting ready for the day. She had work to do, including going over and attempting, however pointlessly, to understand Doctor Voinovich’s work and what he was attempting to achieve. The fact that he wouldn’t just tell her was annoying, but it also meant he had faith that she could figure it out. And more importantly that he thought she was skilled enough to find any mistakes he might have made once she learned of his intent. She wasn’t quite sure where this faith in her came from, but she would certainly try to live up to his expectations.