"Greetings, Captain Brooks, I hope all is well. It took awhile for you to come."

Admiral Heskall had been waiting an unusually long time to get Brooks on the line, and he displayed the patience that had made him famous.

That it was Heskall talking to him meant this had to be something important. The man was famed as one of the leading thinkers of Union military command. Not simply for the parts that involved humanity alone. Heskall was on the Joint Command Council, which cooperated with the military leaderships of every species in the Sapient Union.

"Greetings, Admiral," Brooks replied. "All is fine, I was off-duty and attending personal business. I apologize for the wait."

The Admiral nodded, accepting that without further question. "I can tell you we are glad you are back in command of the Craton. System-Admiral Vandoss speaks well of your abilities."

Brooks accepted the compliment with a simple nod.

"We have an interesting development out past the edges of Union space," Heskall began. "An independent archaeology team has discovered a structure in interstellar space that they believe is a relic temple."

"This claim is being taken seriously?" Brooks asked, feeling a clenching in his stomach - of fear but also excitement.

"Yes. The team has submitted a great deal of imagery in support of their claim, which our science teams have verified as undoctored. Needless to say, we are hoping to get a closer look."

Images appeared for Brooks to view.

They showed a structure, which appeared to be a massive ziggurat of a greyish-blue stone. The scans showed that it was massive, planetary in size. There were pyramidal structures on the outside, and a single entrance, massively scaled up with the rest of the gargantuan structure.

It was an amazing image, but they were less detailed than he liked.

They were not doctored, no, but they could not tell the composition of the materials. They did not show anything inside the temple, or even nearer its massive entrance that was so big it must have been for the landing of starships.

And the images were only of the temple; no ships or shuttles or even drones were near it, and the infrared images seemed to suggest no occupants. All of which lent to the idea that it was an ancient and abandoned structure.

But it still left a lot unanswered.

"These are from over 500,000 kilometers away," he noted. "The archaeologists didn't get closer?"

"They moved as close as was possible for these images, but the relic temple is within an extremely powerful magnetic field," Admiral Heskall said. "Comparable to Jupiter's in strength."

"It has a magnetosphere?"

"It is not the source - we do not know what is, but there is a dangerous amount of radiation trapped around the station, as if it is in a larger system's Van Allen Belt. We believe the temple itself is unaffected; but all the charged particles made it impossible for their ship to get closer. This is why the team contacted the Sapient Union - they need our help. We have just concluded our negotiations."

"What's the source of these charged particles, though? You said it's in interstellar space, so there's no nearby source of solar wind, right?"

"We don't know," the Admiral admitted.

Another mystery to unravel, then, Brooks thought. "Who is this team that found it?"

"You've met the lead researcher already - Nadian Farland."

Brooks's frown came unbidden. "Farland? He is not a fan of mine."

The man had punched him the last time they'd met - their first meeting. Farland was a well-known adventurer and archaeologist. Famed for taking risks, making big discoveries, and he'd leveraged his success into a media enterprise. Films, games, merchandise, all sorts of things that kept a steady inflow of money - letting him pay for most of his own expeditions.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

If there was one thing the man hated, though, it was tomb raiders - though many might unkindly call him that - and in his youth, scratching a living out on the fringes, Brooks had once led a search for lost relics from the dead civilization of Xiphos. It had been a move born of desperation, and a lack of other opportunities that were less unsavory. He was not proud of it.

"I am aware of what transpired when you met the man on Gohhi," Admiral Heskall said. "But I hope that will not be an issue. Farland actually suggested that you be the one to come help. It seems your work helping the !Xomyi has earned his respect."

Brooks nodded, but still did not like it. "I see. He's not generally a fan of the Sapient Union, either. I'm surprised he asked us at all."

"Most ships can't easily muster enough protection from as much radiation as is present. Even a brief exposure to it would be deadly. Only a heavy ship - or a Cratonic ship. Since the Glorians are not about to lend out a heavy warship for science, and the Gohhians would charge him more than his entire media empire is worth, we're the only other option."

The Union would jump at the chance to study a Relic Temple, Brooks knew. Even he, despite his misgivings, wanted this opportunity.

Was it really the right call, though?

Curiosity could be a dangerous thing, especially with regards to relic technology.

He thought, for a moment, about Iago Caraval, and the strange, aberrant images he'd seen that had driven the man almost to madness. It had led him to almost flee with his son for parts unknown, believing that the Craton's crew, including his closest friends, were secretly conspiring against him.

That the man had eventually managed to return from that brink spoke a great deal to the strength of his character. But there were many lessons of caution to be taken from his story.

"Admiral, may I speak frankly?" he asked.

Heskall considered, his eyes flickering over the image of Brooks he would see projected on his end. It was common in civilian circles to project your image however you liked; you could appear to be skiing along with a friend while you were in fact sitting down at home.

In the Voidfleet, though, images were always projected accurately unless it was deemed a security risk.

Heskall was sizing him up; he was likely wondering the same question Brooks had asked of himself after Ko; was he ready to return to duty?

Hell, it was a question he asked himself regularly, even if he felt confident. To know yourself was a skill that anyone with this much power had to ask themselves.

"Yes, Captain," Admiral Heskall said with a nod. "I would like to hear your thoughts."

"This last year has been an eventful one for the Craton," Brooks began. "We brought Ambassador Kell aboard, we encountered Leviathans, or at least things related to them frequently. We also brought on board the Cerebral Reader, Apollonia Nor, who grew up as a street urchin."

Heskall nodded. "You must be wondering why we constantly send you on these missions."

"Yes. I know that we are fast, that our ship resonates in a way with zerospace that makes us able to make jumps easier and quicker. And that, theoretically, a CR's presence provides some protection against the reality disrupting effects of exotic matter. But we aren't the only ones with these qualities. So . . . yes, Admiral, why us?"

"Those qualities are often a consideration," the Admiral admitted. "But they are not the only ones that are relevant. You are, to be frank, perhaps some of the most experienced personnel we have when it comes to these 'exotic' matters. No other Captain has encountered a Leviathan as often as you have. No other crew has faced them and lived as yours have. It is . . . perhaps unfortunate that you are a city ship, with civilians aboard. Believe me that many discussions have been held on this topic, and we have considered sending other cratonic vessels on these missions. Honestly, Captain, and this admits more than I perhaps should admit, these strange occurrences you encounter are not isolated incidents, and you are not the only one involved in them."

"I see," Brooks said. "I have one other question."

"Go ahead," Heskall told him.

"I know this is not something that has been overlooked, yet I feel I have to ask it. Is this worth it? Are these . . . for a lack of a better word, Admiral, eldritch things something we genuinely should be probing into like this? Are we perhaps broaching things we should be leaving alone?"

The Admiral was quiet for a few moments. "It's a question I think all of us have asked ourselves many times, Captain. I must admit that I do not know. We do not even know enough to even know if we are going too far. That is . . . unfortunately, why we must keep trying. Perhaps some day we will know that we were all fools. I hope not."

Admiral Heskall seemed like he maybe wanted to say more, but thought better of it. He swallowed and adjusted himself, his uncertainty disappearing beneath confidence.

It was Brooks's turn to be silent for a moment, as he considered the Admiral's words. Slowly, the same confidence that the Admiral held grew in him.

He did not know if this was wise. Whether it led to disaster or victory, he at least knew he was approaching this for the right reasons, and that he was making the best decision he could with what he knew right now.

"Thank you, Admiral," he said. "I'll begin preparing the Craton for departure."