It was a simple mission, but vitally important. After the activation of ATHENA and the prompt end of the attack on the Xen’wa homeworld, the Scretta had retreated with what little remained of their fleet. They had retreated. From everywhere.
All diplomats were recalled. All civilians had up and left, most not even selling their properties. Everything Scretta had departed from Council space and retreated to their own territories. The Terran victory had been so absolute that it had forced the one thing that everyone in the galaxy thought impossible. The Scretta retreated.
About 30 star dates later, the remains of the Scretta Fleet had been found, circling an isolated star on the edge of their space. They had completely scuttled it. By everyone’s estimation, the Scretta didn’t have a single military vessel left. To compound this, they had no contact with any of the other species. Situated as they were, separated from the Terrans by first the large “northerly” stretch of the Xen’wa terrority and then buffered by the Drokkon to the south, the Terrans didn’t have any cause to be in Screttan space. The distances were so far that it made any observation of their territories simply a measure of background noises and signals. Even so, those had gone quiet. As far as the United Core could tell, no one had contact with the Scretta since their attack on the Xen’wa homeworld.
The premise of the mission was simple. They would take a ship into Screttan territory and poke around, see what they were up to. The crew was to consist of six members, though only four of them would actually be on board. Two Terrans, Two Xen’wa, and Two Corinithians. The Corinthians would be the ones not aboard, sensibly. They would monitor remotely via the quantum network so that they could have instantaneous updates. They would provide analysis and manage the onboard electronics, though anything physical would have to be done by the technician specialist onboard. The two Xen’wa were weapon specialists and the Terrans would serve as the commanding officer and medic. All in All, it was a well-rounded squad.
The ship that they were taking was a new design, another result of the joining of the species. It featured a prototype cloaking device crafted by the Corinithians. Since they had joined the United Core, their planet was undergoing a technological revolution as the Xen’wa and Terran technologies were integrated into their own. A similar exchange was happening throughout Xen’wa and Terran space. Overall, the Terrans were benefitting the least from this, but they had understood this before they even began negotiations. The ship would be lightly armed, only carrying two small spinal-mounted rails that went down the sides of its narrow and sharp design. It had eight of the Interdictor orbs that the Terrans favored, autonomous flying drones that could dart about the battlefield and deliver kinetics with pinpoint accuracy. They had been a staple of the Defense Fleet.
The most important thing though was that it would carry two AI’s aboard. It would have a copy of both the DAI (Defensive Artificial Intelligence) and a copy of Doru, the prototype Offensive AI that the Terrans had recently finished developing. Doru was effectively a much pared down version of ATHENA, though without the Spartoi as its weapons. It instead would use the orbs. Manon wondered at its effectiveness. If it was anything like ATHENA, it would be formidable.
ATHENA… Manon thought to herself. It had been pivotal in the battle of the Xen’wa homeworld. Boer, ambassador at the time, had activated it. In doing so, she turned the tide of battle, spared the Xen’wa homeworld, and exposed the core of humanity to the wrath of the stars. Instead of leading to the ruination of all of their desires, it had ended up being the thing that cemented their relationship with the Xen’wa and Corinithians. Even so, it had remained the shame of humanity, though it was something that they refused to discard. ATHENA was their ultimate trump card, their ultimate protection. The ability to end battles decisively, ruthlessly, and completely. It came at a terrible cost, the mutilation of those that volunteered to become Spartoi, but its evil was necessary. The strength it must have taken to type in those keys that would risk unwinding centuries of effort to show humanity as a peaceful species. Manon hoped that if she was ever in a position like that, she would have had the same strength.
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She turned back to the file.
The route was simple. The Ship would depart from Korban and start a long journey, distance-wise. It would be using its three rip drives to skip across space. Despite the lightyears that it would travel, it would only take a few minutes at most to make the trip. It would head straight to Xen’wa space where it would continue to skip across the stars until it reached the edge of Screttan space. There it would wait for further orders and analysis.
If it found nothing on the edge, it would begin to work its way deeper. Its goal was to pry apart the mystery that was going on in Scretta space. The most important question was what exactly the Scretta were doing. Why did they scuttle the remains of their fleet? Why did they retreat into their space? Theories abounded from this withdrawal. The most concerning of which was that they may no longer deem their public fleet necessary. All species had a private fleet, one they kept away from prying eyes. The question was were the Scretta prepping it to be used?
They hadn’t responded to any messages, from anyone. There had been no trade vessels leaving Screttan space. They were situated on the edge of the galactic cluster, so they didn’t even have reports from people traveling through Screttan territory. There was nothing on the other side to head towards. There was a complete void of information where the Scretta were concerned. The Terrarch was deeply troubled by this, and had commissioned a mission to go and find out exactly what they were up to.
Manon thought about the plan. There was only one thing that she wanted to change immediately, the insertion point. It was public knowledge that the Xen’wa were now allied with the Terrans and, with the addition of the Corinthians, were making their own version of the council. Inserting through Xen’wa space was risky. There was a much greater chance that it was currently being watched. No, it was far better to insert through Drokkon space. Yes, it added a level of risk. If they were caught, it might antagonize the Drokkon but the route was far less likely to be actively watched. In the days of the council, they had represented the second largest fleet, but Manon trusted they would be able to get in and out before they were noticed, particularly if they stuck to deep space, the area between the stars.
She began to chart out the route.
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“You’re up early.” Fletcher’s voice caught her off guard. As immersed as she was in her work, she hadn’t heard him moving around. Now that she looked up, she saw that he had Sara slung against one arm, a bottle of formula already in her mouth. She pushed the documents to the side and walked up to him, wrapping her arm around him while she gave her love to Sara. Her eyes were closed, but they crinkled up at the affection as she happily took in her meal.
“Had trouble sleeping.” She kissed him gently on the lips. When she pulled back, she saw the concern on his face. “It’s fine. I’m going to go get cleaned up.”
Stepping into the bathroom, she removed her clothes, setting her tags delicately on top of them. Next, she queued the detach sequence for her arm and felt it unclick. She quickly removed it and set it on the counter before hopping in the shower. The water and soap stung her abraded knuckles, the heat working their way in and loosening her tight muscles. After the shower, she put her tags back on and wrapped a towel around her waist, before grabbing her arm and stepping out.
“You mind?” she said to Fletcher, using the hand on the arm she held to point to the receptacle that had been installed to her shoulder. He stared at her for a moment, at her chest, no, the tags, before setting Sara down on the couch and getting some small rags. Seeing Sara burbling on the couch, she smiled and sat beside her. While Fletcher worked on cleaning and polishing the connection points, she ran her hand over her daughter’s stomach, relishing in the the way she squirmed under the attention. Fletcher pulled out a small jar of lubricant and reapplied it to the edges.
“Ready?” he said, looking into her eyes. Manon stopped her teasing and grabbed the back of the couch, bracing herself.
“Yeah.”
Fletcher took the arm and lined it up with the edge of the socket. Without another word, he jammed it back in, the connection sending a sharp pain through Manon’s body that caused her back to arch. She gritted her teeth as the pain overtook her. Slowly, the fingers on the arm began twitching as the pain receded.
She didn’t have to go through this every day. She could have switched out the arm for one of the permanent ones. She also didn’t need to take it off to shower. The arm itself was water-proof and was only recommended to be removed and maintained once a week, but Manon didn’t enjoy the idea of showering with it. The two had fallen into this routine after she got it, every morning she would take off the arm to shower and every morning Fletcher would help her put it back on. In a way, the pain helped Manon prepare for the day.
“I’ll go get breakfast started,” Fletcher said quietly.