Three days later. November 12th, 2266. 17:22 CNS Waukesha – Captain’s Quarters

John was in deep sleep, though it was far from restful. There had been three full days of arguing with the scientists. Complaints about intolerable conditions and not having enough computer resources at their disposal were chief on their list. A sense of dread hung over John’s head as they got closer and closer to their destination.

He hid that well too; his crew had no idea that John was feeling the way he was. Then again, the crew wasn’t aware of the full scope of what was going to happen. Most wouldn’t for that matter. The senior officers did, and while he had hoped to avoid it, it would be hard to not explain in some detail the Marines that were coming with the scientists. John still didn’t feel as if he could trust the scientists.

Bringing in a portion of the Marine compliment wore on John. Ordering someone to their sure death was something that John was prepared to do. But ordering them to a foolish death was not an acceptable outcome. And yet, here he was doing just that.

John rubbed his eyes and opened them. He was no longer in his room. And he was curiously wearing a void sheath and could see parts of what he presumed were from his Broadsword power armor on the ground in front of him. He walked forward, knelt down, and picked up a broken chunk of armor.

“Fucking hell. I hate slip space because of this shit,” John said as he casually flung the chunk of armor away from him.

“So quick to judge is this one,” the eerily haunting voice said from behind him.

John responded with only a loud sigh as he slowly turned around.

“Yet another judgment has been made.”

“Having one dream about you is happenstance. Two begins to be troubling,” John paused as if at a loss for words.

“Interesting, the conclusion that this may not be a figment of your imagination has been made. We didn’t think you capable of accepting that,” a chuckle could be heard from the ethereal being, “At last this soon that is.”

“I’ve not accepted anything; I still don’t know what this is.”

“A warning. Surely, you’ve seen the surroundings.”

“No, I haven’t surely seen this,” John said as he spun around, “Obviously it’s from the predecessors. This is their architecture. As is the writing, their language doesn’t make much sense to me. It’s obviously not spoken in a way like ours is. That is what appears to be my suit of power armor too.”

“So close, yet so far away,” the Specter said, “You have a keen mind, but you refuse to open it to other possibilities.”

“You aren’t from this species, are you?” John rubbed his hand along the wall.

“No, mine came from so very far away and long ago. Both of your species were nothing more than star stuff while mine was at its epoch.”

“You said I’d get a choice to restore myself to what I was. Will that happen here?”

The Specter nodded slowly, “The mad yet brilliant one called Dr. Norman had medicines with the capability of curing you. Though the cost of doing that would be to betray everything that you held dear. Too strong was your anger and hate to accept the request.”

John nodded as he continued to walk down the path while letting his hand rub against the wall. He couldn’t feel any deformities or mistakes in the wall. It was as if it was perfectly cut or hewn. How could that be?

“Depending on your choices you will be presented with but another chance to regain that which you cast aside for the sake of vengeance. Accept it and you will regain that which you have lost. My kind and I will come to you no more, but not all is what it seems to be.”

“Restoring my abilities is a trap?”

“I believe your species prefers to call it a double-edged sword. Everything comes at a price,” the Specter vanished from his sight and reappeared behind John, “While you will not have to sell your soul to the devil, the ultimate price you will pay will be unknown to you.”

“That’s presuming I’m even presented with an opportunity. I could sabotage this whole shitshow…”

The Specter began to laugh creepily before looking square at John, “Sabotage is likely, but nothing you can do yourself. There is nothing to be found or gained by digging in the halls of the long-dead. You and your peers would do well to heed that warning.”

John shook his head as he looked at the door in front of him. These conversations were growing tiresome. He could infer through the conversations that he was being groomed for something. But what was that something? He didn’t have enough information to make a decision one way or another.

“What precisely are you?” John said as he squatted down in front of a door.

The Specter chuckled softly, “You believe that I’m real now?”

“Real is subjective. I think it’s safe to say that you aren’t merely a component of a dream. The conversations feel too salient for that,” John paused as he rubbed the door frame, “This isn’t a dream, despite it happening while I’m clearly sound asleep. I think there is a connection to slip space. If I had to guess I’d say you were incorporeal life forms that are bound to this dimension that we call slip space. Though for what reason you are actually talking with me, and the others is beyond me.”

“My kind and I are aspects of the universe. The purpose we serve is still opaque to you. But yes, we would be incorporeal based on your definition, though we are not bound to this dimension you call slip space.”

“But you visit us here because the difference between reality and dream is not as stark as it is in real space, no?” John stood up once more and began pressing, to no avail, a panel near where he’d presume controlled the door.

“To some, not all. Your species’ dream walkers are more receptive to our visits here.”

John finally turned to face the Specter, “And yet I’m no longer a dream walker.”

“What you once were will always be a part of you. While you may no longer access those powers as you once did, you are no less a dream walker now than you were a decade of your years ago.”

“What do you want of me? Why not lay it out all at once so we can stop this silly song and dance?”

The Specter chuckled as he leaned in close to John, “Because if we did that you would reject our offer out of hand. It seems our time has come to an end once again.”

John grinned, “You said if I accept the offer to repair me you will stop visiting me like this, right?”

The Specter took a step back. While John couldn’t see its face, the body language was clear that it was surprised at the parting words. The Specter watched as John disappeared. A smirk was on John’s face before he faded from this dream world. Finally, the Predecessor structure disappeared from view.

A featureless plane of white remained. There was no horizon in this new plan. Nothing but white extended out for infinity. The Specter was the only thing that looked different than the infinite background. Then a light flashed from nowhere when the light subsided another being stood in front of death.

“That was most unexpected. No one has ever personally sabotaged an opportunity at ascension,” the new being said.

“He is still young, defiance is a characteristic shared by all at that age,” the Specter said woefully, “Doubly so for him and his race. Though I wonder if the words were said in jest.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“Spite-filled is how I’d call that interchange,” a third voice appeared from behind the two beings, “That race’s scanners will read him as one of them, but I’m not as convinced as the rest of you are that this restoration potential you speak of is a sure thing. Or that it will work in the way you presume it to be.”

The Specter looked at the newcomer, “Why do you say that? Their technology was able to cure what ails the young man.”

“What ails that young man is not the same as the damage they suffered that was repairable,” the new voice said more insistently.

The bright one then finished the conversation, “Be that as it may, it will be interesting to see what he chooses to do. My foresight is unable to read that one.”

The three incorporeal forms then dissipated one after another. The first to leave was the one that arrived in a bright fashion. After that, the newcomer left. The Specter wavered for a moment but then left like its fellows.

00:12 CNS Waukesha – Officer’s Lounge

John looked like a haunted man as he walked into the officer’s lounge. He didn’t want to admit that the Specter was real, but that was seemingly the case now. It was bordering on the impossible that something bigger was happening. But at least he now knew of a way to end those silly and somewhat pointless meetings.

“What the hell would they want with me?” John muttered to himself as he poured himself some coffee.

John stopped pouring mid-cup and set the pot of coffee back on its warmer. His hands were noticeably trembling. That meeting shook him up more than he thought. He closed his eyes and took two deep breaths. The shaking in his hands had largely subsided.

“Captain, it’s good to see you, but aren’t you up a bit early?” Paige Crannek said.

John took a sip of coffee as he turned around, “Good morning, Lieutenant, I couldn’t sleep worth a damn. Should still end up getting some good rest before we end up at our destination.”

Lieutenant Crannek placed her coffee mug on the table and sat at the table, “I don’t get a good feeling about this mission, sir. They are hiding something.”

John nodded, “That’s been evident since the moment I met their leader. I get the feeling they aren’t as loyal to the Confederacy as they purport to be.”

“There’s something else though. It’s present in all the senior members. We just don’t know what it is. The best way I can describe it as a driving force.”

“They are eager to see inside the ruins.”

“No sir, obviously that is something they wish to do. But it’s something more,” Paige paused, “I’m sorry I can’t be more specific.”

“I understand. It can’t be easy doing cursory scans while in slip space. This dimension makes things feel so much odder than they are.”

Paige nodded, “I’m sure your glad not to have the dreams anymore.”

John grunted, “Were that the truth.”

“That is fascinating. My dreams always focus on me watching, well I guess I’d call them beings. But the surroundings and beings themselves are always out of focus. It’s as if they stand above me. I can sense them, but I am nothing more than an ant to them.”

“Did you ever see any of the figures more clearly than any others?” John took a sip of his coffee, “Ugh, I hate this drink.”

“Yeah, he looks like the Grim Reaper. Or what we have generally associated with that. Black cape, scythe, ghost-like with a black robe. It always wears a hood too. That figure is the most in focus to me,” Paige took a deep breath before taking a sip of her coffee, “It looks huge though. Like I’m an ant or something.”

“Interesting.”

“Terrifying more like it. The beings never seemed to notice me. In my psy-ops training all my classmates commented on seeing the same thing. Though the scenarios that they witnessed were all different,” Paige looked at her captain, “What dreams did you have? Presuming you don’t mind me asking that is.”

“Oh, I don’t mind. They were vivid, though I found myself in a location that seemed connected with whatever mission I was on. It was just weird; I swear beyond the location there’s an infinite plane of nothingness. This ghost-like thing always wanted to have conversations but they never made a damn bit of sense.”

“Wait, you’ve talked to them?”

John grunted again, “You and your classmates shared a similar dream because of your close proximity to one another. How well developed were your unconscious mind blocks developed back then?”

Paige shrugged, “Not as well as they are now.”

“You underwent a minor gestalt of psychic capability that formed on that ship with you and your classmates. It makes sense that y’all developed similar dreams since you all were in the same place together,” John paused, “None of the other classes had similar dreams to yours though, did they?”

“How do you know so much about that?”

“I remember everything. I spent a long-time theory crafting all of this stuff. Plus, when you’re a teenager working for Naval Intelligence free time is something you have in abundance. Freedom not so much,” John leaned back in his chair and sighed, “I suspect we’re training them the wrong way, but I have no evidence to back that claim up any.”

“Do you ever wonder why we developed the gifts that we did?”

“Gifts? I’d call them a curse or worse,” John said as he stared out of the viewport, “Hard to figure out why we evolved in that direction. I think it’d be really interesting to see what precisely triggered that step in our evolution though.”

“I can see how people would call them a curse. But the benefits…”

John looked at his psy-ops officer, “Paige, we force those with the truly exotic gifts to register themselves with the government. That same government dictates how and where some of them live. Those that are just burdened with telepathy are monitored for the totality of their life. While I can understand, even appreciate, some of the things that are done, I chafe at our willingness, no eagerness, to steal freedom from those people.”

“But if we don’t…”

“We do so for the greater good. It’s a way for the majority, who don’t have those abilities, to maintain power and control over those that do. That’s what it does. No more, no less,” John took a drink of coffee before sighing, “No one fights that good fight because it’s not a fight worth fighting. There’s no way for those with gifts to win. They willingly accept the chains the government thrusts upon them.”

“I didn’t know anyone with these abilities would feel that way. I never thought that my life was intruded upon that strongly.”

“We’re lucky to have not developed any telekinetic capabilities. The damning thing about all of this though,” John closed and rubbed his eyes, “I think that it’s all necessary. We have to do that to ensure our society functions and moves forward together.”

Paige nodded, “In the end, the greater good wins out.”

John nodded, “It’s a necessary evil that powers our society which is fueled by hubris and hypocrisy.”

Paige smirked, “I didn’t think you’d be this pessimistic.”

“Call it tiredness or weary of this space, or even this mission that’s dredging up that part of me. Nothing about this makes me feel good.”

“Sir, I think this goes without saying, but stay on guard. My team and I will continue to get to the bottom of our gut feeling. With any luck, we will be able to understand or pull out what the scientists are hiding.”

John nodded, “Keep up the good work.”

John silently finished his coffee. He was deep in thought, that sickening feeling that this mission was going to end poorly was one he could kick. There were so many different scenarios John was running through his head trying to improve his odds of survival.

00:45 CNS Waukesha – Marine Armory

John was standing in front of his suit of Broadsword power armor. He was typing into the left terminal. A screen on the right sight updated something, a frown appeared on John’s face as he stopped typing and leaned back and over to look at the other screen.

“Stupid split screens doing stupid split things,” John muttered to himself.

“That modification to the dual fusion core has increased output by three point seven percent,” Eve said, “It will increase fuel consumption by naught point three percent. Effectively shortening the duration, you can operate by four minutes.”

“That is what you call a win-win,” John smiled as he skimmed the screen.

“Captain Lief, I didn’t expect you down in our neck of the woods,” Captain Bart Tyler said as he walked into the drab room.

“Captain Taylor, never mind me. Just tweaking my armor’s systems.”

Bart grinned, “You can call me Bart, I’m not a line officer and frankly I prefer it when the captain of the ship treats me more casually.”

John shrugged, “I read ya loud and clear. Well, Bart,” John grinned as he stared at another screen, “To give you more detail I was able to increase my power output without reducing my active work time significantly. That should result in my shields or plasma weaponry being used more often or recharged more quickly.”

“Got a bad feeling about this mission, sir?”

“You ever write a time-delayed and conditional message to a loved one before a mission?”

Bart nodded, “Four times. Got delivered twice. The missus was a wreck after the first one, but damn near wanted to kill me the second time she got the ‘sorry I’m dead’ message.”

“Alice has received a message like that from me already,” John paused for a moment, “Back when I was on the Des Moines. I get the feeling the scientists are going to get me killed.”

“My marines and I are ready…”

John turned to face the commander of the Marines onboard and interrupted him, “The Marines will not be going with them into the base. I’m not willing to risk their lives. They will stay behind at the above-ground research facility. Their orders will be to seize the facility if the worst, and very likely most probable, scenario occurs.”

“Captain, I must insist on guards accompanying you. You need my men’s help.”

“I appreciate the desire to do so. But my mind is mad up. I am not sacrificing any lives beside my own on this mission,” John gestured to Bart, “I know, I know. All of your Marines would be willing to lay down their lives for anything I order them to do. I don’t want them to do that. Not here, not now. I will risk my life, and my life alone, on this mission.”

“I’m not going to convince you otherwise, am I?”

John shook his head, “No, no you are not. Worry not, it’s not likely they will be able to do anything to me in that,” John gestured over his shoulder to his suit of armor, “Besides, I’ve made a few upgrades to that beast.”

“I’d still feel better if my men were guarding you. How do you think it’ll play out?”

John grunted, “The best-case scenario is I live, the structures go poof, and most of these shit-for-brains eggheads go poof with the alien structures.”

“One hundred credits on that happening,” Bart was grinning as he immediately placed the bet.

“Bart, I love that optimism, I really do,” John slapped Bart’s shoulder, “I normally don’t like losing, but I hope I lose this bet.”