"Captain, I have finished my background analysis."

Garrick looked up from where he was, watching Macdewil finish up the last touches to powering up the aft sensors.

A weary resignation made Garrick turn away and hover out of engineering until he was floating through the empty hallways. They were now lit up by a few LEDs that sat attached to the cables running from engineering to aft.

Over the last two days, his headache hadn't returned, and even better, he was feeling better than he had in years. If that was due to only eating and drinking the recommended provisions and sleeping more, he didn't know, but he'd started noticing his eyesight changing and his breathing turning easier than he was used to.

"Alright, Sibilis, give me the analysis," he said.

"There is a nine-five certainty that your current implant's BIOS has been overwritten by a foreign entity," Sibils said, the LLM's voice calm as if he hadn't just said something that should have been impossible. "There is an under one percent chance that it is some odd encryption generated by The Astra Concord, and a hack by The Seretonin."

Garrick pushed himself away from the wall, his mind surprisingly calm.

"And the remainder?" he asked.

"A little off four percent chance that your implant is malfunctioning in such a way that only your dump shows the information it does, Captain."

Garrick thought for a bit, wondering if the others had the same.

"How did it get replaced?" he asked.

"It is hard to be sure, as the fraction of the memory dump was completely different from anything known. Right now, I'm running processes to read the interaction between what your H.U.D. shows you. It would be best if you could run another memory dump."

Garrick stared through a crack of the hull at the star-filled sky.

"Fine," he said. "How much do you need?"

"Verry little. Just starting it and stopping it right away will be fine."

Garrick sighed, then triggered the memory dump, waited for one second, then canceled it.

In that single second, the distant background thrumming headache skyrocketed to a near-migraine, only to slink away within moments after the dump stopped.

~> Implant X4: memory dump aborted at zero point one percent…

~> Creating readable file… DONE.

"Sibilis, you have permission to check the memory data," Garrick said almost absently.

"Yes, Captain."

There was a few moments of quiet as Garrick stared out of the window.

So, what does this mean? He thought. Did the Precursors leave something behind on their Shipslinger that somehow came free when it was destroyed? It had to be something like that. If that was true, what did that mean for him and his crew?

"Captain, I have made a little headway but not a lot," Sibilis said calmly." I am going to need to do a brute force pattern recognition on your visual cortex and brain as the H.U.D. is displaying different things."

"Will I notice anything of that?" Garrick asked, feeling his hackles rise.

"No, Captain. You will also see a little notification while I am observing, and you can always end my observations whenever you wish for it."

Garrick wished he could say no. The idea of having the LLM lottery in his head made his skin crawl. If it had only been his life and survival, he might not have allowed it. But as he thought of the crew, he sighed.

I'm on a slippery slope, he thought, thinking about what he'd already allowed the LLM to do. If someone had told him he'd be willingly doing this even a few months ago, he'd have called them insane.

"Very well. How long will this take?"

"Atleast a few weeks."

Garrick hesitated, then snorted.

"Fine. Make sure you figure out what this device is doing."

"Of course, Captain. I am sorry, there is no other way."

So am I, Garrick thought. So am I.

--

"We are starting to make this a habit," Garrick said, grinning at Macdewil, who stood before the wire-filled airlock.

It looked dangerous; the entire construction was roughly welded together where possible and glued in other spots. Every visible edge had been closed with most of their surviving supply of Granite Kit, causing the plates and walls to look like they were smudged below an unfinished paint job.

"Here we go," Macdwil muttered. "Presurring."

He pressed some buttons, and a few of the valves began bending as something pumped through them. There was nothing visibly changing in the room except for a simple flag attached to the side. Initially, it began rippling and flapping as if someone was shooting it with an airgun. Then, ever so slowly, it calmed and began wiggling and rippling calmly. This continued until one of the lights beeped, and the flag just hung there, drifting around the wire it was attached to.

"Alright, we have full pressure, and the air seems fine," Macdewil said, looking up. "Are you sure-"

Garrick moved to the airlock and pressed the button Macdewil had shown him. As soon as it opened, he moved inside and closed it behind him, taking only a small bag with him.

"Really glad we don't have to open all the doors manually," he said, trying to sound chipper.

"Captain… good luck."

Garrick hummed as he waited for the small chamber around him to be pressurized. For a moment, there was no sound, then a whine and rushing of wind surrounded him. It was muted by the helmet, but finally, hearing something that wasn't himself or over the speakers in his helmet caused him to sigh in relief.

They never tell you you can miss normal sounds, he thought as he waited for the airlock to beep and a green light to glow. As soon as it did, he opened the other door, listening for any hissing or other sounds that would show the atmosphere was leaking away somewhere.

There was nothing but silence, and he moved to the nearest wall, which increased the sound amplification of his suit. He had a readout on his H.U.D. that would show him any soundwaves he might not be picking up.

After going around for a few minutes, he reduced amplification to normal and looked through the window.

"Nothing," he said. "It looks clear."

"Captain, it might be best if you let… me… Dammit, Captain."

Garrick grinned as he clicked the other clamp on his helmet. A tiny part of him wondered if this would be his last mistake, then he screwed the helmet left until it clicked before screwing it to the right until it came free in his hands.

Clear, clean air filled his nose and lungs, and Garrick took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he realized just how much he missed the simple act of breathing un-filtered, clean air. Then, the stink from his suit flowed up along his neck, and he almost retched.

"Captain! Quick, your-"

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"It's fine," Garrick said, raising a hand and grimacing at a very worried-looking Macdewil. "I just found out how much I stink."

There was a moment of quiet, then a snort.

"Good to know, Captain," Yuri said from the position beside Macdewil. "I take it everything is fine?"

Garrick nodded as he took the bag and opened it. There was a pressurized towel inside, which he unwrapped before cleaning his face. The bloody crusts had gone hard, and it took some painful rubbing to get most of it away. Still, he felt ten times better when he finished, and the sight of the brown, grimy blanket told him just how much it had been needed.

A loud hissing came, and he looked up to see the door open again, this town letting Yuri inside.

She removed her helmet and had roughly the same reaction before taking the bag and another clean towel and cleaning her own face.

"Captain, all my checks show the cabin pressure is stable, and there is no sign of leakage," a calm voice came over the speakers.

"Thanks, Sibilis," Garrick said as he began cleaning the inside of his helmet. When he finished, he had to force himself to put it back on.

"You could stay a bit longer," Yuri said.

"The room's air scrubbers are only able to hold seven people," Garric said as he checked his helmet's seal before moving back to the airlock. "Besides, we need to finish up our final preparations for Mission Rocketman."

"You really need to call it that?" Yuri asked, shaking her head.

"Blame engineer Macdewil," Garrick said.

A few minutes later, he was back in the engineering room, hovering beside Macdewil.

"I'll let the rest go in first," Macdewil said over their private coms. "I still think it's stupid of you to go."

Garrick hummed thoughtfully. "We can't wake anyone up because the medbay would need to be fully powered. There's only one person with proper combat training and training for something like this. Who, exactly, would you suggest I send? One of our two only medical specialists? Or perhaps one of the thirteen people that we need to fix the ship?"

Macdewil hesitated, then licked his lips. "You should send Hilbert."

Garrick looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Our only cook and the only nutritional specialist we have?"

Macdewil was quiet for a bit, staring at him before seemingly making up his mind about something.

"Captain… we need to talk," the engineer said.

Garrick shut his mouth, surprised by the seriousness of his old friend. Macdewil beckoned him away, and he followed him back to the kitchen as they had come to call the nearly emptied-out storeroom on the far right.

Hilbert was busy counting packages and putting them in labeled sections of the closet when they entered, a job that would likely take a month based on the enormous amount of crates tight on one side.

"Captain, Jack! What… oh, that look doesn't promise much good," Hilbert said, putting the packs away and drifting towards them. "Did the pressuring fail?"

"Hill, you need to tell the captain," Macdewil said, causing Garrick to frown.

What was going on? He knew Hilbert, had read his dossier, and knew the man had combat training. But that was it. He didn't have a lot of zero-g training.

Hilbert's eyes widened as he seemed to realize Macdewil wasn't joking around. Within a moment, his happy, joyless look turned serious, and his eyes narrowed.

"Jack?"

"The Captain wants to rocket himself to one of the nearby frigates to search for survivors and hopefully find an operational shuttle."

Hilbert was quiet for a moment, then sighed as he looked at Garrick. Something about him changed: his posture straightened, his eyes sharped, and his face turned from his jolly good-naturedness to something far more emotionless.

"That's a stupid idea. Have you ever done anything like that?" he asked.

"We need a shuttle," Garrick said slowly before hovering closer to the other man. He'd seen many people fake a personality before, but if this was Hilbert's real self, he'd been played for a long time.

"But that is not important right now. Explain to me what is going on. What should I know?" he asked calmly.

Hilbert held his eyes, then glanced at Macdewil before sniffing.

"Macdewil isn't the only one with a Y1 implant on the ship. The parts in my file that said I was with the expeditionary force? It says I was with the second division. That's a lie. I was with the forty-sixers."

Garrick knew that had he been told this a few decades ago, he might have reeled at the revelation. The forty-sixers were the top squadron of The Igniz Commonwealth, sent to both external and internal hotspots to take care of business. The common folk on Igniz called them The Burners, as they didn't leave much left when they were done.

However, he'd been a starship captain for thirty years since and dealt with his share of surprises. Besides, he knew more about the forty-sixers than most... and definitely more than the two men before him realized.

He watched the other two for a bit, wondering why he had the insistent desire to show off. He'd not felt like this in a very long time. For a moment, he almost pushed it down, then the desire grew and he decided that if they wanted to play, so could

It's not like I'll ever get back to being court-martialled, Garrick thought.

"I see," he said, already pretty sure what the response would be. "Seeing as you never told me, I take it there's a reason for sharing this now?"

Hilbert held his gaze, and then a grin came to his face. He let out a soft laugh.

"Captain, I always knew you could be cold, but this is next level… The usual reaction isn't anything like this."

Garrick just raised an eyebrow, not interested in friendly banter. He knew that Hilbert was trying to charm him, but he'd need to tell him something way more surprising.

No. Garrick wanted to know why he'd never heard about this before and why Macdewil did know. He also wanted to know who Hilbert really was. Nobody just got a Y1 implant. Y-type implants were only given to the rich, the famous, or those who had superior genes according to their birth DNA test.

"I think Jack here told me this so I could go instead of you," Hilbert said, still smiling. "I have experience with ship-to-ship combat and experience in zero-G combat. Just in case it would be needed. Also-" and Hilbert snorted at Macdewil, who just shrugged. "-I'm more replaceable than you are."

Garrick was quiet for a few moments, then sniffed. Apparently, Hilbert wasn't going to explain why he got the Y1 implant. A shame. But it did mean it was now his turn to surprise the two younger upstarts.

A tiny part of him knew it was odd for him to act like that, but most of him was just looking forward to see their faces.

"Who was your trainer? Lena Goriova? Or were you unlucky enough to get the bulldog? I'd say Lena, seeing as you enjoying talking as much as she did."

Hilbert's smile froze, then his eyes widened as he seemed to realize what was happening.

"You... no, you weren't in the forty-sixers, so.. how..."

Garrick raised an eyebrow and smiled, causing Hilbert's eyes to almost roll out of their sockets.

"You were in G-AD?" he whispered.

Garrick held the other's gaze as he realized he'd not spoken about this for atleast a decade. Not since he'd been back on Igniz Beta- the small military city on the other side of Europa.

"Thirty-first group, special additional training regiment six," he said, knowing none of that would mean much. The next bit would be, though. "Sandy Barracks."

Hiblert whistled while Macdewil looked from one to the other.

"So… I take it that's something special?" he asked.

Hilbert nodded. "G-AD was very hush-hush. Top training for those meant to become… A dammit, I should have realized!"

"Permanent captains of capital-class ships," Garrick said, feeling a tiny wince at that. He'd always wanted to grow a step further.

"Now. I agree that you would be a good fit for the job, but you haven't convinced me that I shouldn't go. All you have done is show that I'll not be going alone. Engineer Macdewil, I want you to make another of those rockets. And before either of you wants to try and get me to second guess this- we need a shuttle, and we need to get mobile. The sooner we start creating a more permanent place, the better."

"Yes, captain," Macdewil said, though he looked like he'd just swallowed something sour.

"Now, I'll be curious to hear a bit about your missions later, Hilbert," Garrick said as he turned away and began drifting back out. "But that will have to wait while we are in the deep black. I'll meet you in twelve hours at the remains of the shuttle bay."

--

Macdewil watched as the Captain left the refitted storage room while he dropped from the chat.

"Damnnnn!" Hilbert said, turning to him. "I'll not even ask if you knew this, as your face says it all, but… man! I knew the Captain was hardcore when they asked me to join the Sibilis, but this?"

Macdewil blinked, then turned around. "Wait. Who asked you to join the Sibilis?"

"Admiral Stinger. My active duty was done, and I'd asked to be assigned to one of the long-mission cryo ships," Hilbert muttered, still grinning like a madman.

"What? You asked for that?" Macdewil said, looking up.

Nobody asked for those, as they would leave you stranded decades or more out of your birth time, with all your friends and family dead.

He's serious, he thought, looking at Hilbert's grin.

He'd spent countless hours drinking and having fun with Hilbert, and now he suddenly wondered if he knew the giant of a man at all.

"Yeah, it's one of the disadvantages of being with the forty-x-brigades, especially the forty-sixers," Hilbert said, humming softly. "All of my family died over two hundred years ago, but I still have a warrant out in many places. Most of us eventually do this so we can skip through a few decades, sleep it away, and all that. Most people forget about you if you don't pop up for a long time."

"Two hundred… When were you even born?"

"Two-hundred and sixty-four years ago," Hilbert said, grinning widely.

Macdewil turned to the man he'd thought was his friend in stunned surprise.

"Wait… doesn't that mean your Y1 is one of the first generation?"

"Second-gen, actually, but yeah. It's a bit of an old one," Hilbert said.

"... here I think I'm the one surprising someone," Macdewil muttered, annoyed.

"Well, you surprised me, that's for sure," Hilbert said. "Didn't I tell you to keep me being a Y1 to yourself?"

Macdewil grimaced, realizing the other hadn't decided to forget about that. He sighed, knowing he was going to have to do some explaining.