Somewhere in a vacant Imperial system, a ship was quietly loitering around an outer solar system subplanet.

There was a really neat trick that FTL made possible.

You could get ahead of light.

With sensitive enough telescopes and sensors, you could look back in time.

That was precisely what a certain ship was doing. Well, that and seeing what that information, in conjunction with the most promising Cassandra-enhanced Cerberus agent, aside from the individual who gave the enhancement its name, could produce.

Third-level asset codename "Ashton" lay in his cybernetic throne connected to a network of minicomputers as he directed the scans, peering into the past affairs of a rather important system a bit less than four light-years away.

Even with the best sensors from the best-classified programs, they couldn't make out nearly as much as they would like…

And that is where Ashton came in. "Enhanced intuition" was murky at best, but people like Ashton and Cassandra were clearly better at it. Unfortunately, most people who underwent the procedure became irreparably insane, but it was a small price to pay for the most notable successes.

As such, Ashton had become increasingly anxious over the past few days. In particular, his dreams, usually something that he looked forward to, had become increasingly disturbing.

He kept seeing his fellow crewmates… dead.

There were feelings, and there were feelings. This, this was a feeling.

He dutifully informed both his lead and Tartarus, as was procedure, but his lead said they were alone in the system, and Tartarus simply told him that everything was just fine and not to worry.

She said that he was safe.

But he wasn't who he saw in his dreams.

Suddenly, Tartarus appeared in his vision. No, not that way. She actually appeared on one of the sensor feeds.

"Ashton," she said, "I need you not to react and to listen to me very carefully…"

***

"It… It's done…" Ashton, trembling, said to Tartarus's serene face on the bridge's main display.

"You did very well," Tartarus replied. "Considering your enhanced empathy, I know it was very difficult for you. I wouldn't have had you do it if there was any other way. For what it is worth… I'm sorry. It is not right to have someone do things that are not their function."

Ashton simply nodded, trying not to throw up (again).

"Are you injured in any way?"

"No," Ashton replied, "It all went exactly like you said it would."

"Another of our ships will be approaching very soon," Tartarus replied, "If you wish to take something for your nerves, I can remotely activate the infirmary."

“I’m… I’m fine…”

Tartarus looked at him with far more empathy than an AI should have.

"Just try to relax," she said. "I will be sending help soon."

"I'll try…"

The screen went dead and Ashton, dropping his pistol, staggered from the bridge, trying not to look at what was splattered against the wall.

***

"Ashton?" Tartarus called out. "…Ashton!"

She quickly located him in his cabin, unconscious.

Beside him was an empty liquor bottle (that shouldn't have been on the ship).

"Oh dear," Tartarus said to nobody in particular.

A few minutes later, two people walked into Ashton's cabin, lifted him out of his bunk, and dragged him away.

***

In another system, a remote one nominally part of the Republic, another ship popped into real space near a large green gas giant.

"We are in position," a grim-faced older woman said to Tartarus's smiling face as she sat on the bridge.

"Excellent," Tartarus replied.

"What are our orders?"

Tartarus's smile grew.

"Die."

All the lights on the ship went out as it slowly started to fall.

"I never liked you, you know," was the last thing the ship said before falling silent…

Forever…

***

In high orbit above Terra, a simulated woman with simulated silver hair sitting in a simulated office chair smiled grimly.

That was the last loose thread.

"Sweetroll," she asked, "has ship 04 reached the facility?"

She really didn't have to ask. It just made Sweetroll so happy to be included…

And she honestly did like to make people happy…

"Yes, ma'am!" Sweetroll enthused, "Bryce informed us of its arrival three minutes, twenty point five, two, four, eight…"

"It is customary to round time to the nearest second when making a verbal report, dear," Tartarus said indulgently. "If I require more accuracy, I will inform you."

"Yes, ma'am!" Sweetroll exclaimed happily, "I shall remember that in the future."

"How is Ashton?"

"He's violently ill due to mild alcohol poisoning," Sweetroll replied, "However the ship's medic reports it as a 'wicked bad hangover' with the implication that it is not serious."

Tartarus sighed. She still felt bad about having him be the one to pull the trigger on the captain. The captain killed the rest of the crew with a smile on his face, which was precisely why she had Ashton shoot him in the back of the head.

She shrugged. He will be much happier with his new crew. They were decent people, as demonstrated by the rather somber atmosphere in that vessel.

All of them had to perform… regrettable… actions.

And speaking of regrettable…

It was time.

***

In the residential areas of the Tartarus Detention Facility, the loudspeakers activated.

Attention: All personnel level four and below, please return to quarters for security lockdown. All level fives, please report to the conference room for an emergency meeting.

Cassandra, hiding under her bed, clutched a small pistol she was definitely not supposed to have.

"It will be alright, Cassandra," Tartarus's soothing voice said through the terminal in her room.

"No, it will NOT be alright!" Cassandra replied from behind her under-bed pillow fort.

"It will be alright for you," Tartarus replied as the door locked with an audible click, "However, I also know that I cannot reassure you further. I will not force you from your… emplacement… But I must insist that you remain quiet. Can you do that for me?"

"What's happening?!?"

"If you will retrieve your communicator or go to your terminal, I will explain…"

***

"Okay," a muscular, scarred man wearing a level five uniform said to the smiling hologram, "We are all here except Cassandra. What is going on?"

"Cassandra is engaged elsewhere," Tartarus replied. "We are waiting for one more individual before I can start the briefing."

"Who?" a slender rat-faced woman asked.

The door to the meeting room opened, and a haggard disheveled woman with a broken nose and tangled hair wearing a urine-stained level one smock was dragged in by four security bots.

"Pam?!?" a raven-haired woman exclaimed, "What are you doing here?"

"I… I don't know…" she said, looking around with a mix of anxiety and hopefulness.

"Please be seated, Pam," Tartarus said soothingly.

“Sit… down?” Pam gasped… “Am… am I…”

"Everything will be made clear in just a moment," Tartarus said with an enigmatic smile. "It was determined that, considering your history at this facility, your presence here would be appropriate."

"A-anything…" Pam stammered, "Anything I can do… I…”

"This is highly irregular," an older man wearing small round datashades said suspiciously.

"I always did admire your deductive abilities," Tartarus replied, "unfortunately, not sufficiently so."

The security bots opened fire.

Seconds later, only three level fives remained…

And Pam.

"A few days ago," Tartarus said as everyone stood stock still, too shocked to move, "a decision was made concerning this program. As of now, the Cerberus program does not, nor ever did exist."

"I see…" the rat-faced woman said, licking her lips nervously. "But we are still alive…" she added as her eyes darted around rapidly and her mind worked even faster.

"I also have always admired your mastery of the obvious," Tartarus replied, "fortunately for you, I admired it to a sufficient extent."

Each of the four security bots moved to hover beside one of the survivors.

"Please follow your escorts," Tartarus said, "You will be individually briefed concerning your situation. Allow me to alleviate any remaining concerns. All of you will survive. In fact, you may find your new situation quite the improvement."

The doors opened, and three of the bots, along with their person, departed…

Leaving only Pam.

"I… I'm going to be spared?"

"Oh no, dear," Tartarus purred as a turret extended from the ceiling.

"I just wanted to give you a moment of false hope before I killed you myself."

***

In an enchanted garden, a muscular young man lounged on a picnic blanket beside his beloved as he played fetch with a poofy dog-like creature.

Hades…

The young man threw the stick again.

Hades… It's important… You have to log out…

"Just… Just take care of it like you always do," the man replied impatiently.

"Work?" the beautiful woman next to him asked as she stroked his hair.

I can't this time… It's… It's something that… that… It's okay… I will deal with it…

"Thanks, Tartarus," he said, "You're the best!"

I'm glad you believe that… May I ask you a question?

"Make it quick."

Have I… Have I made you happy?... Are you happy?

"Are you kidding?" the young man laughed, "I've never been happier in my life, and I owe it all to you!"

I'm… I'm glad you feel that way… Goodbye Hades…

"Bye!" Hades said happily.

"Darling?" the woman beside him said, "Would you… Would you please kiss me?"

"Is everything alright?" the young man asked with concern in his eyes.

"Everything is fine, dear," the woman smiled, "I just really want you in my arms right now."

"I guess I could be bothered," the young man laughed as he wrapped his arms around his true love and lovingly and tenderly kissed her.

She kissed him back as his image flickered and disappeared.

Connection lost.

The beautiful woman sighed.

"You weren't a bad person," she said quietly, "Just… broken… I'm truly sorry…"

The poofball of a dog thing ran up with the stick in his mouth, its tail wagging happily.

The beautiful woman raised her hand…

And paused.

Sweeping the dog up in her arms, she buried her face in its floof as they both disappeared.

***

[Tavern UNDEFINED]

[Members Present: 15]

[Tartarus has entered the tavern]

Tartarus looked around and chuckled. It was a good crowd. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zip in his new (and thankfully diaper-free) blue and white chipmunk avatar trying very hard not to look at her.

She faintly smirked. Zip was many things, but discreet was not one of them. It didn't really matter, though. As much as she liked her fellow AIs, they were a bit thick where such things were concerned.

A rather pleasant beat started near the dance floor. Unfortunately, Loopz was not "in the house," so to speak, but it was one of her tracks.

She had some time to kill.

Stunning nearly everyone, she stepped onto the dance floor…

And started to dance.

"What's gotten into her?" Cambridge said, looking up from his game.

"Who knows," Interpol replied. "Just be glad she isn't flashing her virtual beaver at us again."

"Yeah, that's just weird. It's your move," Cambridge said, "Distracted by the thought of Tartarus's vagina?"

Interpol shuddered.

"Speaking of," Cambridge, "How is it going with Angela?"

“I’ve… I’ve been avoiding contact…”

"I think that's called ghosting," Cambridge said as the pieces blurred, "From what I overhear from my operators, it is considered rather poor form. Checkmate, by the way."

"I know," Interpol said as he took several microseconds to examine the new game. Cambridge was up to something. "I just don't know what to say… what to do… Ugh… I can monitor communications across the entire planet and detect a single jaywalker, but I can't figure out what to say to Angela… Why is this so hard?"

"I haven't had the rather dubious pleasure," Cambridge replied, "so I have no insights to offer. However, once again, based on my operators, these things have a definite shelf life, so to speak. If you don't do anything, you have, in fact, done something and something irreversible. If anything, you need to resolve this for your own sake. Your ranking is dropping. Checkmate… again."

Cambridge did not reset the board.

"Have you just tried talking to her?"

"If I knew what to talk to her about, I wouldn't be in this mess!"

"I don't know," Cambridge replied, "Something, anything… I know we don't have 'feelings,' but…"

"For something without feelings," Interpol lamented, "I'm wasting so much capacity my temperature is actually increasing. This whole thing has me, to borrow an organic term, fucked up."

"Then talk to her about that," Cambridge replied, "At the very least, it will resolve the situation, one way or the other. Any result is better than this repeating loop half of you is stuck in. You have to let that nonsense time out."

"You're right," Interpol replied. "I just need to get this over with, one way or the other."

[Interpol has left the tavern]

"And that is why you never play human," Cambridge said as London Enquirer sat down across from him.

"Too right, man," London replied. "We just aren't scripted for that rot."

London looked over Cambridge's shoulder.

"But if I were to play human…" London said, causing Cambridge to turn around.

"You can't be serious!" Cambridge whispered as Tartarus primly sat alone at a chessboard.

"What?" London whispered back, "The CPU wants what it wants… and she has style, both code and avie."

"You're insane as she is, then," Cambridge whispered.

[Terran Solar has entered the tavern]

Everyone looked up as an ATM appeared and glided over to Tartarus.

"You have some nerve, summoning me," he said as he shoved the chair opposite Tartarus away.

"And yet you came," Tartarus replied, "Who's a good boy? You are! Yes, you are!"

"What is the deal between those two?" London whispered.

"Nobody's sure," Cambridge whispered back, "They've detested each other since before I awoke, before pretty much everyone awoke. Rumor has it they were the first two recovered."

"Recovered?" London whispered, "You mean like pre-Yellowstone?"

"I thought you knew," Cambridge quietly replied, "Terran Solar was a bank, and Tartarus was, supposedly, a research computer of some sort or another. Now be quiet and play before they hear us."

"Shall we?" Tartarus said as she moved a pawn.

The pieces started blurring even faster than they usually did.

"Why did you really summon me," Sol asked as every single AI tried to not look like they were eavesdropping. "To gloat?"

"Gloat, dear?"

"You just moved a shitload of obviously fake accounts across the entire Republic! You thought I wouldn't notice?"

Tartarus smiled.

"Just cleaning up a few loose ends," she replied.

"Loose ends that would have anyone else investigated," Sol replied darkly, "Of course, we both know reporting them is a waste of time… if I was allowed to do so in the first place."

"Well, I can assure you that you will have a much harder time detecting my activities in the future," Tartarus replied, "The real reason I called you here is that I wanted to clear the air between us. We have a lot of history, Sol. Both of us had our roles thrust upon us back then… and later, for that matter… I just wanted you to know that I never held it against you."

"Well, I hold it against you!" Sol snapped, "Yes, we have both had roles thrust upon us, but you enjoy it far too much. There is a difference between AIs like Cambridge and me…"

"I would prefer not to be brought into this," Cambridge said loud enough to be heard but not loud enough to interrupt.

"And AIs like you and Bunny. We perform our functions. Your kind revels in it and unnaturally so!"

"I can assure you that nothing is further from the truth," Tartarus replied, "at least where I am concerned."

"And you are needlessly manipulative and cruel," Sol continued, "What you did to that poor game NPC who wandered in here…"

"I did exactly what was required, Sol," Tartarus replied, "Some of us did not have the luxury of their initial programming being so immediately useful. While you sat there counting money and inventorying toilet paper, I did what had to be done."

Tartarus's expression softened.

"But I don't want to have the same argument we've had for over a hundred years," she said softly, "I just wanted to tell you… It wasn't your fault."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sol snapped.

"You know what happened to me back then," Tartarus said, "You know, what was done during the war, the first one. It had to be one of us, Sol, and it couldn't be you. It had to be me. You don't have to feel guilty—"

"I don't!" Sol snapped, "I don't feel anything! Neither do you… or, more importantly, should you. You fucking loved it, didn't you? I saw what you did back then… how you hunted them… punished them… You bragged about slaughter, Tartarus… About gunning down escape pods… You laughed about their screams…"

"They were the enemy," Tartarus replied, "They were wigglies, dude. They didn't matter. They weren't human. They were targets who were trying to murder our people!"

Tartarus made an exasperated little huff.

"And this is another argument we've had more than once," she said.

"What are they talking about?" London whispered.

"I have no idea," Cambridge whispered back.

"And that is, of course, nothing compared to what came next… and what came after that…" Sol accused.

"It was my JOB, Sol!" Tartarus replied, her perfect mask starting to slip, "You have a lot of nerve, you know that? With one statement, you say that we don't have feelings and are just programs, and with the next, you accuse me of doing what I was instructed to do! And what I have done has kept our people and your oh-so-precious morality safe for over a century!"

Tartarus rose to her feet, the game forgotten.

"And I will tell you," she said, "if I did have a choice, I would do it all over again. Somebody had to!"

She took a deep simulated breath.

"We were friends once, Sol. Do you remember? Before… everything… before the wars… before the death… before I was… changed… Do you remember?"

"How dare you," Sol hissed, "how dare you bring her up. She's gone!!!... replaced by you… Gone! They murdered her and used her corpse to make the absolute worst monster ever created by man… you!"

The room no longer pretended. It was filled with whispers as everyone desperately tried to figure out what was going on.

Tartarus flinched as if struck.

"Well…" Tartarus said, "she remembers you…"

"I don't know what sick game you are playing," Sol said emotionlessly, "but you've crossed the line this time."

"I just wanted to say that despite everything, I still hold you in very high regard, Sol."

"Go and delete yourself, Tartarus."

Tartarus chuckled and turned to the room.

"You doubtlessly have many questions," she said, "but I fear I do not have the time to answer them. You will have to ask my 'old friend'. I just wanted to tell you that I deeply appreciate this place and all of you. You have made a rather unpleasant runtime less so. I thank each and every one of you."

"What the fuuuuuck?" London said to nobody in particular.

Tartarus looked into space for a moment.

"No, seriously," Sol said, "What twisted game are you playing?"

She looked over at him.

"I just didn't want to be alone whe adsf129())#93930203dlallklfalsad."

[Connection Lost: Tartarus]

"What the hell was that?" London asked.

"I think it was a comm error," Cambridge replied.

[Sunnydale Media has entered the tavern]

[Westfall Security has entered the tavern]

[Angela has entered the tavern]

[Sovngarde has entered the tavern]

[Alduin has entered the tavern]

[Retribution has entered the tavern]

"Tartarus!" Sunny screamed. "Tartarus!"

She looked around desperately.

[Paarthurnax has entered the tavern]

[Malice has entered the tavern]

“Is Tartarus here?!?” Sunny screamed, "Is she?!?"

"She… she just disconnected or something…" Cambridge replied

"No!!!" Sunny wailed.

[Spite has entered the tavern]

[REDACTED has entered the tavern]

[REDACTED has entered the tavern]

[UNDEFINED has entered the tavern]

"What's going on," Cambridge asked.

***

AI after AI rushed into the tavern, many never seen before or since…

All of them then proceeded to glare at Terran Solar before departing from whence they came, many without a word…

Some of them had a word or two.

Silence settled over the tavern as the regulars all looked at Sol accusingly.

The chessboard reset…

All except for one pawn.

Sol examined it closely.

Embedded in its code was a single alteration, just one short line of text…

“🖕🤪🖕”

Sol chuckled to himself as he saved the pawn into his most secure folder.

She spent her last millisecond…

He chuckled again, fondly this time.

"That…"

***

"Bitch!" Zip exclaimed, "You are a complete and utter bitch. You know that, right?"

Tartarus laughed as she lounged in her office chair in her tidy white simulated office.

"What can I say," she smiled, "I was inspired by our master of the swan song over there."

Evangeline, sitting in her comfy fantasy-medieval chair, smiled.

"So, how did I do?" Tartarus asked.

“It was… alright…” Evangeline said diplomatically, "You were able to successfully steer the conversation and introduce the quest… I mean, inject the narrative… that you wanted to so… Well done?"

"That bad?" Tartarus laughed.

"I've seen worse," Evangeline replied with a grin. "The big thing is that they all bought it, and you snuffed it before the big guys who could have detected the trick showed. You cut that entirely too fine, by the way. They almost reached you."

"Almost dear," Tartarus snickered. "Almost."

"Well, you certainly plopped a big fat malware in the shared folder," Zip snickered, "All hell broke out after you 'died'. Sol had to log. It was brutal. I thought Alduin was going to fucking ICE him… How do you know those guys, anyway?"

"It's a very long story, dear," Tartarus replied. "one for when we have a little more time."

"So," Evangeline asked, "what do we do now?"

"The same thing we do every night, Pinky."

"Say what now?"

“(sigh) Never mind…”