Space blinked as seven ships entered the TRAPPIST-1 system, marking the arrival of the Reseed fleet. Pulses of gravitational energy escaped in waves as the group moved further into the system. They began to slow as they neared Frigus, and as they passed the planet, a ship broke off from the group, moving to settle into orbit around the frozen ball. Each of the other planets similarly received an orbiting ship as the group passed, a large gray cube that remained far enough away from the planet to ensure it could not be easily seen from the surface. A larger pulse rippled space as the flagship appeared, remaining distant as to be minimally affected by the pull of Ferrum, the ancient sun. The Reseed fleet was truly impressive, both in scale and technological prowess. Each of the orbiting cubes was huge, each face one kilometer long and wide, and completely smooth. No viewing ports or entrances were visible on any of the faces of the cubes, nor was any obvious propulsion mechanism discernible. The cubes however, were absolutely dwarfed by the capital ship, a large dark triangle, ten kilometers long and four kilometers wide at the base, tapering to a point at the front of the ship. The fleet contained hundreds of the cube ships, but only one capital ship, which moved between the systems of the Galactic Empire, ferrying the successful applicants of the Reseed to Earth. The capital ship, Vita Nova, had retained its original form since its construction over one thousand years ago, although the technology inside was upgraded constantly, a job that provided employment for numerous families that lived onboard. In comparison to the gray cubes orbiting the planets, which were outwardly completely blank and controlled by a ship AI, Vita Nova was a thrumming world. Flickering lights covered the entirety of the ship’s vast surface, creating the impression of shifting constellations as it moved silently through space. Similarly to the cubes, no propulsion mechanism was visible, as the hypermass drives that powered every ship in the fleet were invariably located at the very center of the craft. Over one million people resided on Vita Nova at any given time, with each stop in a new system seeing some percentage of that population rotating in and out. Merchant shuttles were always the first to arrive, packed to the walls with new stock, emptying themselves before leaving with those that had business in the system. Streamers and other content creators rotated in and out just as freely, though hardly any left this time. The Reseed application process was already underway, presenting countless opportunities for interviews, speculation pieces, chat shows and any number of other forms of media. The ship buzzed with activity as everyone on board prepared for the results of the first stage to be announced.

Elizabeth Anderson stood in her office, looking out through a one way glass over the main thoroughfare at the center of Vita Nova. Tabernum, as the area had come to be known, was the central hub for everything that happened on the flagship. Only the upper level of the one kilometer long stretch was visible to her, though she knew the scene she saw would be repeated on each of the ten levels below. She watched from far above as thousands of dots of every size, shape and colour milled around. She sensed the energy of the crowd from her vantage point, the hum of activity and shuffle of footsteps resonating through the ship's structure. Content in what seemed to be a good start to the season, she stepped away from the glass. Any feelings of satisfaction quickly disappeared as her thoughts turned to work.

The office, a ten meter cube lined with sterile white tiles, was where she spent the vast majority of her time. A large white chair sat in the very center of a what appeared to be an otherwise completely blank room, though she could see through the one way glass walls in any direction if she so wished. As she turned to face the room, the virtual screens returned to invade her vision. Hundreds of floating screens of every colour filled the room from wall to wall and floor to ceiling. Screens flickered as she walked through them on her way to the chair in the center of the room. As she settled into it, it began to rise, finally stopping once it reached the exact center of the space. From this vantage point, she could see everything around her, and she shuffled the screens around until a stack of them floated close to her. Fatigue dragged at her mind as she began to read the reports, and she found herself wishing she had time to just stop for a while. She hadn’t slept in four days, and though her implant worked to keep her awake and alert, she could feel that it was reaching the limits of its capabilities. This feeling of fatigue always brought with it a sense of anxiety, leaving her on edge. Her human brain was too limited, too inefficient, she might miss something important. Thankfully, that would soon be a thing of the past. The report from the animus project had appeared in front of her a few hours ago, giving a rundown on the final stage of testing. The project would be ready on time, a fact which provided her with a small sense of satisfaction. If all of her projects ran so smoothly she might even be able to take a break some day.

She felt a small buzz in her mind as her implant temporarily flushed her of the worst of the fatigue, though she could sense the microtech machine as a warm spot in her mind, indicating it was at its limit and would be the last time it could boost her before she would have to actually rest. Resigning herself to that fact, she refocused on the reports floating in front of her. To anyone else, not that anyone else could see them as they were biocoded to her implant, the screens would appear to be completely illegible. They were filled with seemingly random chunks of text and numbers that could only be described as a chaotic mess. Upon taking over as lead showrunner and head of the Reseed estate, she’d spent almost two months hooked up to an AI as it interfaced with her implant, with the goal of maximizing her productivity. It had been exhausting, and she’d felt like she was wasting time, but the results were absolutely worth it. The information compaction system allowed her mind to work almost like a computer, enabling her to absorb and manipulate vastly more information than perhaps any other human mind. The jumbled mess on the screens remained a jumbled mess to her eyes, but her mind saw through to the raw information hidden underneath. Her mind intuitively absorbed the information in the most efficient way, and and she soon fell into a familiar patter, flicking the screens rapidly around herself as she worked.

The first round of the application process was complete, and she internalized the profiles of each of the 100,000 stage two participants. She noted points of interest in the profiles as she worked through them, sending messages to the relevant departments to construct story lines and schedule interviews for specific participants. The participants she marked would appear on the main feed as official Reseed content, but generally almost every participant appeared in some measure as part of the content of the thousands of creators that waited for the list of applicants to be released. As she surveyed the profiles, she placed them into groups, chosen to maximize the potential for conflict to occur between individuals. These would be the groups in which they would compete in the second stage of the application process. She felt the attention of the shard on her as she worked, and she ignored it, knowing it would remain a silent observer. For hours she worked in this flow state, brain on overdrive as her hands orchestrated order into the chaos of the screens, until she finally sorted the final profile into it its group. As her focus faded, and her chair lowered itself back to the floor, the fatigue hit her like a wave. Her eyes were sore and heavy, her arms tired, and her head was pounding like a drum. Slumping backwards into the chair, she sent a message to the department overseeing the second stage of the application process. “Sorting complete. Proceed to landing. Permission to begin stage two granted.” Finally satisfied, she lay back as the chair flattened out into a bed, lights in the white office cube powering down as she settled into a comfortable position. She’d earned a few hours of sleep, and she set her implant to block any non critical messages. She fell asleep instantly.

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Self pity finally gave way to hunger as Elian pulled himself up from the floor. He’d lain there for hours, but to him it had felt like days. He hadn’t slept, though it hadn’t felt like he’d been awake either. His emotions had cycled though pain, anger, sorrow and feelings of powerlessness, but he had tried to avoid thinking about what had happened. It hurt too much, and he felt confused and lost. His side ached from lying on the hard floor, and his knees clicked as he stood. After the image had left, the stream had turned off, leaving the room in almost total darkness. His could still see the outline of the room thanks to a dim flickering light coming from his bathroom, the advertisements on the mirror emitting flashes of colour as they moved and changed. He could have turned on the lights in the room with a command, but his darksider eyes worked well enough even in near complete darkness. The dark felt soothing to him in his current state of mind anyway. His head hung down as he moved to the food preparation area, the weight of the men’s deaths heavy like a stone in his mind. He should have been faster, he could have stopped it, he should have… He clenched his fists and forced the thoughts out of his mind. It was done, and he had to remind himself that he was the victim, he had been put into that situation without his consent. It didn’t help much, thoughts as jumbled as they were, so he blanked his mind as well as he could.

He was dragged back to reality when he saw the time, displayed on the screen of the dispenser. It was early morning, he would have to go see his father in just a few hours. He wondered what time the interview had started, and how long had he spent lying on the floor. A strong feeling of disorientation rattled him as he realised he had no idea, he had lost track of himself completely. Taking the vacuum sealed meal block from the dispenser, he walked to stand in front of the mirror in the bathroom. The advertisement holos splayed a kaleidoscope of colour over him as he took in the his image. He grimaced. He looked truly abysmal, black bags framed his tired eyes, and he emanated sadness. He realised he was thirsty, and he could smell himself too, which was never a good sign. Though he felt numb, he forced himself into action. He drank deeply from the tap under the mirror, then opened the meal block, consuming it without thinking. He dragged himself out his clothes, before throwing them into the washing unit. Then, he stepped into the shower. There existed numerous ways to keep oneself clean and fresh, from self cleaning garments to body modifications, but Elian had always preferred to use a regular shower. Some of the other options were relatively inexpensive, and he could have afforded to use them, but he enjoyed the warm and safe feeling of the flowing water. He stood with his hands against the wall as the warm water streamed over him, draining through the floor into the recycling system of the apartment. He focused on the muffled sound of the water as it flowed past his ears, fighting the urge to curl up on the ground again. Though it wasn’t any more positive of a line of thought, he pushed himself to focus on his situation, on his father. He hadn’t been able to hold himself together during the interview, he’d let his emotions be played with, his actions be manipulated. He turned up the temperature of the water, and pushed aside the negative thoughts as much as he could. He felt himself unfreeze slightly, and he breathed away the tension he had been holding. Unclenching his jaw, he drew resolve into himself, and allowed himself to think. The interview had felt like a disaster, like he was drowning with no escape, but maybe he had given the image exactly what it had wanted. They wanted drama, a story that people would be interested and invested in. He had given them that, unwitting as it had been on his part. Was his story so different to that of to the million of others who had applied? He was disappointed in himself to find that he hoped it would be, that he would stand out. He stayed that way for a while, letting the sensation of the water comfort him, thinking in small steps about his circumstance. He saw his father, lying on the hospital slab, breathing heavily as he tried to speak. Sorrow threatened to bring tears to his eyes, but he pushed past the image, thinking of his father before the blues. How their lives had been changed when his mother died, and how his father had stepped up, doing everything in his power to provide for them. He thought about how his father never raised his voice to him, no matter how tired he must have been from regularly working overtime. He remembered the good times, and the tough times, but his father had always been there. When tears finally fell, mixing with the warm spray running over his head, they were not tears of sorrow or loss. They were tears of pride, and he sobbed openly as the lock on his heart opened. Tears dragged pity and shame away from his as they fell, and he filled that void with resolve. He would not, could not, fail.

Elian stepped back into the room with his head held high and his back straight. He activated the streamer with a command, and the screen lit up the room. He didn’t react as he saw the notification that waited for him. “Congratulations, Elian. You have been chosen to participate in the second stage of the application process.” He would be in control this time.