Red alert messages flashed on all walls throughout the ship. The war in our section of the front had taken a turn for the worse. While the Fleet had managed to make significant progress in one area, conquering thirteen star systems, the Cassandrians had responded in turn. Their gains were significantly fewer—two systems in total—but had moved far closer to us. According to my estimates, the chances of fighting entering our system had practically doubled. Things were still a long way off, though; all combat was concentrated in the original theater of war, though that didn’t make things any less tense.
There was a second reason for the ship to enter a red alert state—we had found what we were looking for, or at least something close enough to merit further investigation.
“Can you get a confirmation?” the captain asked.
“Not without probing,” Sof replied. He was probably the only one annoyed more than anyone else.
The orbital scans had revealed a large concentration of cobalt three kilometers beneath the surface. The exact spot was located in a heavily forested area, which had slowed down detection to a certain degree. Seventy-five rod artifacts had already been retrieved in the area, all located in close proximity to one another. It was only after their removal that the larger deposit underneath had been found.
“There’s a twenty-eight percent chance that the find ends up being a cluster of rod-artifacts—a remnant of a local cataclysmic event,” the ship continued. “However, it could also be the real thing.”
“How long will drilling take?”
“Depends on the method, but I estimate five days at a minimum. I wouldn’t recommend using laser drills, for one thing, which increases the estimation to a week.”
“Laser drills won’t be an issue if we avoid the bubble, ma’am,” I interjected.
“We’ve read the reports,” said the XO, cutting me off.
“Even so, it wouldn’t make a difference,” Sof said, stressing his displeasure. “Our goal is extraction, not exploration. Laser drills will let us explore it faster, but we’ll still have to use mechanical means to prep the dome for retrieval.”
“That’s correct, but that way you won’t have to wait for me.”
My comment didn’t get the reaction I’d hoped it would get. Several of the officers whispered amongst themselves. Even the lieutenants I knew looked away, in an attempt to distance themselves. To my surprise, it was the XO who seemed most open to the suggestion.
“Explain that,” he said, arms crossed.
“The exploration of the dome might take a few hours, but it could also take weeks, depending on what I find inside. If there are any objects, I need to map their nature and location, then extract them one by one. That is, assuming I don’t have to wait for external authorization as well.”
In the past, I always needed explicit permission to get anything out of a dome. Of course, back then, I hadn’t been involved in the extraction process. Even during my Med Core missions, the focus had been the rods, and not the dome itself.
“Run simulations on both,” the captain ordered. “Tell the crew to expect orders in one hour. XO, with me. Everyone else, keep monitoring the situation.”
I expected to be called for the discussions. To my surprise, I wasn’t. Possibly they didn’t want to rely on me when it came to ground missions. It was almost inevitable that I would be the one sent down on the planet. The question was whether it would be before or after the dome was reached, and also whether I’d be alone. If this were a military or science mission, the answer would be obvious. It wasn’t either, though, and given the high profile of people and equipment, a lot more precautions would be taken into account.
While waiting, I reviewed all the finds of the last few days. The number of artifacts collected so far could pass for impressive, but it paled in comparison to what I’d seen on the Scuu front. I tried to spark a conversation with Sof about it, but it seemed that the ship hadn’t ventured into that part of space often. From what I gathered, BICEFI did most of the work, occasionally assisted by the Salvage Authorities. Sof, and the few ships like him, would rendezvous with them, then assume command of the cargo and transport it to where it was needed.
The location of the fractal trees didn’t form any discernable pattern I could identify. That wasn’t too much of an issue, since the original artifact “pattern” was also highly chaotic. Potentially, this could have been the equivalent of circuit board designs on a planetary scale. From what I’d seen regarding the third-contact race so far, everything involved massive macro designs. The way things were constructed, it was impossible to say whether the elements were meant to terraform the planets in question, or had an entirely different purpose in mind. Maybe it wasn’t even the planets that were of significance, but their location, creating an even larger construct spanning through star systems?
“Ensign, what’s your take?” Colonel Sawsun asked. He was one of the officers who had started in the ground forces. Surviving several suicide missions had seen him rewarded with joining black ops on a permanent basis, as a trooper under the command of the BICEFI. After one tour, he had been given the option to retire, but refused to do so, getting him transferred into a Fleet academy program. He’d kept his rank, but now also served here as chief navigation officer.
“Regarding the mission, sir?” I asked.
“What do you think the outcome would be?”
“I’m sure that Sof is far more familiar with the composition of the crew and capable of running far more detailed simulations on the matter.” The silence and stares told me that wasn’t the answer I was expected to give. “I believe it’s most likely it’ll be a combined mission, sir. With time being the chief factor, the faster the dome is extracted, the better for everyone involved. A laser drill operation will be needed to confirm the state of the dome. Cobalt deposits don’t always correspond to a functional artifact.”
“I thought the damned things were indestructible,” he said, more surprised than irritated.
“As far as we know, sir. As I said, time is of importance. Risking the ship and everyone aboard on assumptions isn’t a risk the captain is likely to take.” And if she is, I’ll remind her not to.
“And you’re willing to go down there?”
“It wouldn’t be my first time, sir.”
“Enough messing with the kid,” Lieutenant Commander Lineer joined in. “She’s earned her stripes, same as all of us.” As the ship’s weapon officer, he’d seen more action than most aboard, which made him want to be as far away from it. “Cap will tell us when she’s done.”
I was afraid that might put an abrupt end to the conversation. Thankfully, it didn’t, but merely changed the topic. The uneasy silence that had been forced since I’d joined the crew was finally broken, and people started engaging in normal conversations. Everything remained work-related—it would be a while before people would be comfortable becoming more open on a personal level with me—but at least they were starting to treat me more as one of them and less as “the captain’s grandmother.”
Forty-seven minutes later, the captain and the XO returned. At that point, Sof made a ship-wide announcement regarding the mission.
This was new for me. One of a ship’s main goals was to ensure that everyone only got the information they needed to know. Mission details were sent to the teams involved and any mention of them was censored as much as means would allow. There had been times when I’d blocked transmissions between certain people and the rest. Here, so many things were available for all. When I asked Sof about it, he explained that was the optimal approach for the crew in question. Since all the positions were pretty much lifelong, I could see his point.
As I expected, we were going to proceed with both approaches. Some teams would focus on drilling near the estimated sides of the deposit, while the rest would proceed with standard excavation. What surprised me was that Quinn had ordered there to be four individual drill teams. No people were to go down, not even me. Everything was going to be performed by AI digging devices.
It was ironic that I had to voice concerns. The current laws governing human space absolutely forbade the use of autonomous AI entities on the battlefield. Everything, ships included, had to be supervised by a human. I remained against the practice, mostly because millions of people needlessly died in combat every day. Seeing first hand what the Scuu were capable of, I still wouldn’t leave third-contact excavation to drones alone. Naturally, I was overruled. Quinn was convinced that as long as each drone had a dedicated crew member overseeing its activity, everything would be fine. In my view, it still remained a dangerous shortcut.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Teams were quickly set up. Three decks were dedicated to the “excavation teams” while Sof and engineering prepared the drones. Most mini-sats were recalled to the ship, to be repurposed. The probes remained. I wasn’t sure whether it was to give me something to do, or if the captain didn’t want to risk a spore infestation aboard. Either way, I remained concerned; and since I wasn’t allowed to communicate with anyone outside the ship, I resorted to the only thing I could.
“We’re proceeding with the remote excavation,” I said in my quarters. The room was set to privacy mode, but Paladins would be able to ignore that. “I’d appreciate it if you could tell my arbiter that I’d prefer to be down there in person. There’s something different about this planet. It doesn’t match any of the known patterns. I think we might find one of the larger domes.” The scan readings left a lot to interpretation at this point. “Just tell the arbiters that and let them decide.”
If my message ever received them, they must have agreed with the initial mission parameters, for no changes were made over the next two days. All vegetation had been removed, along with the surface layers of soil. That left around twenty-five hundred meters of rock to dig through without the use of explosives or beam devices.
Meanwhile, the drills were progressing nicely. One of them had started with a delay due to a minor malfunction after landing. The rest had made up for it, easily passing the two-kilometer mark.
On the third day, one of the drills had reached the required depth. My suggestion to have it start drilling at a new location was accepted without argument. A new contact-team was formed, though again without my involvement. As before, I was only allowed to passively observe and nothing more. One of the few benefits of that was that I could monitor the situation from anywhere, even the mess hall.
“Do you need to bring that here?” Ynna asked as she joined me at my table. Like most, she didn’t approve of my carrying a sidearm.
“That captain allowed it.” I continued to eat. Now that I was free from the constant calcium supplements, the food tasted a lot better. “I might be needing it soon.”
“You don’t believe there’ll be a surge down there. Right?”
“Probably not. I prefer not to risk it.”
“Is it because what happened in Scuu space? The prison planet…” She paused. “I’ve read the files. I just…”
“I didn’t die, Ynna. I was just severely damaged.” Of course, without the Agora, I might well have. “What’s new from the bridge?”
“Difficult to tell. Some are nervous, some excited. Most of us haven’t witnessed a live third-contact event. The discussions about who should go down there have already started.”
“Let me guess. Several people want to lead it.”
“No.” She shook her head. “No one wants to.”
The waiter came to take Ynna’s order. Unlike me, she just asked for a synthetic drink. I took the opportunity to order dessert.
“Is that a problem?” I asked once the waiter had gone. “I can do it.”
“It’s not about that. The captain doesn’t want you to go and the XO is undecided. A few of the senior officers suggested that it all be done by remote exos. It’s a mess. I don’t think that I’ve ever seen the bridge like this. And it’s not only the ship. Everyone seems to be uneasy.”
“On edge?” I stopped eating.
“Sort of. Seen anything like that?”
Unfortunately, I had, aboard the Gregorius. It had all started innocently enough. Unease, adjustment, tension, then the first cases of insanity and suicides. Soon enough, most of the ship had been evacuated, and a coup had followed.
According to all available data, it was impossible for the same to happen here. The Scuu were on the opposite side of human space. The crew had been vetted and had been working together for years or even decades. There was no way for saboteurs to have found their way aboard. And yet, I couldn’t put my mind to ease. Both the Scuu and the Cassandrian mission had taught that there were factions among the people who decided the direction of the war, and even a ship as valuable as this could be sacrificed if the goal was important enough.
“Has anyone asked to leave the ship?”
“What? Why?” Confusion covered Ynna’s face like a tablecloth on a wooden surface.
“When you said that people were on edge—”
“Not that much. You thought that—”
“Ensign.” The XO suddenly interrupted. Judging by his stance, he wasn’t here for food.
“Sir?” After running a hundred simulations, I decided not to remain seated.
“Come with me.”
“Yes, sir.” I pushed to Ynna’s side of the table and stood up.
I expected for us to have a brief conversation with the man in the corridor, but instead, he took me to the nearest elevator.
“Sof, privacy mode,” he said.
“Would this be considered irregular, sir?”
“When you led a team on your last mission. What happened, exactly?”
“My last mission?” The question was a bit broad. I’d been in charge of one team. I’d also been in charge of several platoons. I could tell from the intonation analysis that the XO was eager to find out and not trying to catch me in an inconsistency. “I was granted command based on my third-contact experience.”
“Yeah, yeah. How difficult did it feel?”
“I’ve experienced losing people, if that’s what you’re asking, sir. I do my utmost to avoid it, though not at the expense of the mission.”
“Why?”
“The truth, sir, is that it’s a numbers game. Same as back when I was a ship. The difference is that I’m more vulnerable now. As my first captain told me once, we can try to prolong a few people’s lives, or we can hold back an enemy that threatens the human race. Never both.”
That was one of Augustus’ harsher statements. Sadly, after all my time in the Fleet, it was starting to seem that he was right.
“I can lead the excavation team, XO,” I said directly.
“Colonel Sawsun will. You’ll follow his lead unless it concerns artifacts.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sof will make your gear. Tell him everything you need.”
The conversation ended just as abruptly as it started. The elevator doors opened, letting the XO storm out and leaving me to follow shortly after.
I would have given a lot to be present at the actual meetings. If circumstances were different, I probably would have been. My current rank and relation to the captain brought some limitations, though. It was one thing to have a cadet specialist join in. Everyone knew I was outside the standard hierarchy. As an ensign, I had to be mindful of my place.
It took Sof three hours to create all the gear I requested, as well as a suitable space suit. As it turned out, after my conversation with the XO, it had been decided that the team would be composed of remote exos. That part, I agreed with. It was a lot safer to have them observe from the ship while I directed efforts on site. The drones and other AI instruments were going to remain, however.
One day later, after all four laser drills had finished with their initial tunnels and we received confirmation that the mass of cobalt was a dome, I found myself in a drop shuttle along with a squad of mechanical exos five times my size. Apparently, some things never changed.
“The shuttle will be your home while you’re down there,” Quinn said through the comm. “You should have enough supplies for a month. If there’s anything else you want, we’ll drop it.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t take me as long, ma’am.” I checked my emergency comm device. Since we were dealing with new variants of third-contact tech, it was very likely that communications would get severed several times, at least.
“Here’s to hoping we don’t get any Cassies down there,” the colonel said. His exo was marked with a large letter C painted on multiple panels. The rest of the squad only had numbers. “What are our odds?”
“Close to zero.” I played down the odds. “Just don’t touch any artifacts, sir.”
The descent was faster than I was used to. Thankfully, it was softer as well. We landed a hundred meters from the excavation area on a cleared spot.
“Stay strapped until we get the heavy tech out,” the colonel said as the exos went into action.
Even in a custom-built shuttle, getting out required precise coordination. All of them moved in perfect unison, exploiting every centimeter of space. It was almost sad knowing that humanity had the means and capabilities to use such coordination, but didn’t.
Good calculations, I transmitted to Sof directly. Can you do it while comms are severed?
Regulations forbid it, he said, suggesting that he could.
One by one, the exos left the shuttle, starting with the colonel’s. When there was just one left, he dragged out the large equipment and containers. Looking at the mission notes, half of the group were to establish a charging station for the exos, while the rest helped with the excavations. Whoever had written that was sloppy to the extreme. Specifics were lacking and there were no location markers whatsoever. I could only hope it hadn’t been Quinn.
“Requesting permission to see the dome contact point,” I said as I unbuckled my seat safety straps. Technically, I was supposed to remain seated until all the equipment was taken out, but with one single exo present, there was more than enough space to safely walk around.
“Insubordination already?” the captain asked. “Couldn’t you have waited at least until you actually set foot on the planet?”
“Just respectfully requesting, ma’am.”
“Sure, go ahead. Remember, observation only. Try anything weird and I’ll go down and drag you back up here myself!”
“It might be worth it just for that, ma’am.” I went for the exit.
When I was outside the pod, I could instantly say one thing: the probe feeds didn’t do the place justice. Everything was a lot more saturated than I had seen, probably more than any other planet I’d been to. The rainbow sky was the most remarkable sight by far, constantly shifting as if I were looking at the inside of a soap bubble.
Aren’t you a lovely gem? I reached out, as if attempting to pop it.
“Everything alright, ma’am?” one of the nearby exos asked.
“Only admiring the planet.” I stepped to the side, still focusing my attention on the sky.
You’re not supposed to behave like that.