Jane watched the strange morning theatrics go by, her mood unperturbed. She felt as if she should have felt a pang of worry or something similar at the sight of it all, but honestly at this point she couldn't even bring herself to care. Leonne had always pulled her into strange events, so that was one thing. The other was the little black box that was tied to a world of new information. Good breakfast, imposing men, insane teens and knackered out friends didn't really match up to knowing that today she would be able to dive into territory no Historian had ever trod before. Presumably. The alternative was that those who had either had their records amended or deleted or they hadn't been allowed to live long enough to get the word out.

That realisation sparked a bit of worry, but then she realised that the people she was staying with weren't without resources either. To put it lightly, she thought. Her mind ran back to the footage of the battle and the promise of even more. That woman on the other end of the line knew things and had brought up enough evidence to back it up. Jane had done her own research in turn. Dug up everything she could regarding equipment manifests, after action reports, names of units and operations, ships and fleets and, of course, everything about Genesis. She hadn't found much, which pretty much cemented the theory that the Historians' knowledge had been tainted, but what little she had found had aligned perfectly with what the woman had said.

Just as she had begun to digest that hot mess, her datapad had piped up. A new folder had popped up on it, sender unknown. Not surprising, given how Imperial tight-beam technology still trumped virtually every other technology in existence and could interact with most systems with frightening ease. Rather than worry about the new evolution of her datapad being hacked through the black box, which had been hidden far from Cassy's prying eyes, she had taken it in stride and opened it. Inside the folder were thousands of other folders, all compiled into surprisingly large files. She had begun to unzip one when her virus scanner began to squeak in protest. A quick flash of her fingers later and the warning was gone. She doubted the group behind the black box wanted to harm her at this stage. They also wouldn't have to sneak a program past her systems' pitiable defences.

The file opened and her eyes had gone wide as she looked at the full battle plan of Strike Force One, Genesis Battalion, during the ground operation on Lufer. Not a part of it, not a less detailed version, everything. Dozens of attack vectors, hundreds of expected contact zones, thousands of comments linking to predicted events. Equipment manifests, link up zones, rendez-vous locations, fall back spots, minefields, … The plan was complete. She had no other words for it. This wasn't a torn, damaged file plucked from a blown up device and restored to a sliver of functionality. This was the real deal. Untouched, undamaged, unblemished battle plans of the most infamous Imperial unit to ever exist. And it was on her datapad. She hadn't passed out from sheer excitement, but it had been close. Instead she had chosen to settle for hyperventilating and pacing back and forth while trying to stifle her screams, lest she ended up waking Cassy.

She hadn't slept during the night, spending every waking moment with her eyes glued to the screen as she scrolled through mountains of information. A tiny, practical part of her mind kindly informed her that if she sold this, she'd be set for life, both financially and as a Historian. The rest of her mind, far too focused on having an item she could only dream about in front of her, unkindly informed the other part where they could shove it.

So when Mentuc and Leonne finally returned in the late morning, it required a Herculean effort to tear her gaze away from the documents and onto her friend. Keeping it there turned out to be much easier.

As soon as the door fell shut behind Mentuc and Cassy, Jane crawled over towards her friend, unable to keep a massive smirk from splitting her face. She prodded the unmoving form of her friend. 'Well, Leonne? Had a good night?'

'Jane,' croaked an audibly exhausted Leonne, making her annoyance known to the world.

She made eye contact with her friend, wiggling her eyebrows far too enthusiastically and got ready for a good bit of banter that Leonne would inevitably lose.

'Fuck you.'

'I don't think you're in any state to do that,' Jane shot back with a lecherous grin. 'Though I get the strange feeling that Mentuc made that threat to you and then made good on it.'

Leonne let out a pitiful whine. 'Go bother the box! I'm tired!'

Jane laughed and moved to prod her friend again, only to discover that the young woman was out cold already. She shook her head, laughing softly before turning around towards the small box, which was resting on the nearby table. 'You and me then,' she said.

The small antenna popped out of the box, the familiar blue light returning. 'Good morning,' the voice cheerfully replied. 'I take it you enjoyed the files I sent you?'

'I did!' she replied. 'Thank you!' The words were genuine. The passion that had driven her to study Imperial history had been fully reignited and overruled any lingering feelings of blind hate towards the Empire. 'How did you get those, though? These are plans that are seven centuries old. How the hell did you manage to acquire that when nobody else even knows what the Genesis were? I've not yet read everything, but we're talking about a unit that was classified even to Naval Intelligence!'

Nightmare let out a soft chuckle, able to appreciate that comment more now that she had emotions. None of them had ever known at the time how unique that had been, or just how much clout Eissel and Verloff had possessed to pull that stunt off. 'I am a specialist when it comes to the Genesis Battalion', she answered truthfully. Then, with a teasing tone, 'but there still is a person out there who knows more about them than I do.' She let that remark hang in the air for a bit, letting it fully sink in, before continuing. 'Still, I can answer any question you have related to them, though you may find some of the answers displeasing.' The AI knew what tone to use to make the unspoken message clear. To Jane's credit, it didn't take much wind out of her sails.

'I know what the Empire did and you already specifically stated that the Empire had no qualms about killing civilians and casually did away with billions.'

'Not casually,' Nightmare sharply corrected. 'The Empire never did anything casually. Every action was meticulously planned. You would do well to remember that. It is an essential part of understanding the Empire.'

That caught Jane's attention. 'Elaborate,' she simply said, crossing her arms. Nightmare studied the woman's posture. It was hesitant, wary, but at the same time that burning eagerness was overwhelmingly present. It was interesting to note that. It meant the Historians, as a group, knew concerningly little about the nation they had dedicated their lives to. Or had been very thoroughly sidelined. Either option was worrying.

'You remember the Empire having a clear distinction between its civilian arm and the military? That distinction is the first part you need to fully grasp to understand the Empire. The civilians were seen as a burden, people who needed protection and were unable to do so themselves. The military did not like that job, but there was some economical necessity to it, for it allowed the military to expand rapidly. Them living within the inviolable borders of the Empire itself made that task easier. The military itself, however, was a vastly different beast. Every soldier was disciplined and fanatical. There were no defections, no mutinies, no ignored commands and suicidal orders were always followed. It wasn't just a simple training regimen that brought this on. To a man, every single soldier of the Imperial military believed what they were fighting for. Because they didn't fight for external reasons. They didn't do it for glory, for fame, for wealth, to be adored or any of the sort. They did it because, to them, it was right. Because you fought for the men and women beside you. You went and died knowing that your sacrifice would allow others to live. The Empire wasn't a nation in the geographical or political sense of the word. The Empire, the military of it, was its people. Every action taken, every battle fought, every decision made was done so with the good of the Empire in mind. You trained and trained because you wanted to be the best you could, for yourself and for your friends around you. Onoelle called the induction in the military brainwashing, but as I said indoctrination is a far better word. Basic could take years and you only finished it when you acquired the right state of mind. Of all the billions of soldiers in the Empire, there was not a one who would ever betray their brothers in arms. That discipline, that zealous state of mind, was drilled into every single one of them.' She paused, her mind running back to the countless battles she had fought as part of Genesis. She and her brethren had lived and died for one another. Not because of a personal conviction or a higher calling, but because they had literally been made that way. She had been a sentient weapon. Without real free thought or a will of her own. Her superiors commanded and she obeyed. She could think tactically and act independently, but at the end she had been a literal product of the Imperial warmachine, embodying its ideals in a way no normal human ever could. Yet the humans she had fought and bled beside had shared those traits. One for all. All for one.

Stolen novel; please report.

It wasn't until she had died and become an AI that she had begun to fully grasp the importance of that. Watching over her CO as his mental trauma slowly eroded his mind had made her understand just how hard wired the desire to protect those around you could be in anyone serving the Empire. She recalled Dreamer, collapsed against a broken wall, her bridge torn asunder and covered in his blood as memories of loss and failure had shattered his psyche for hours on end. She remembered the taste of his pain on her receptors, the sound his tears had made as they fell onto the cold floor, trembled as he whispered the names of the fallen in a mute state and the orders that had send them to their deaths. And wished she could have been more like Onoelle, who would whisper the names of those saved. Who would remind him of the victories that had flown forth from those losses. The human understood. She, the one being who should have been closer to him than anyone else, hadn't. Still struggled with the concept. But she was learning. And the truths she had uncovered during her long life had made her all the more determined.

She was reminded of Jane's presence, having nearly forgotten the woman in her ramblings. Little time had passed, but enough to be noticeable. That mattered little. She could ad lib. 'They were more like a religious cult, chasing behind the ideal goal of having as many of their members die of old age as possible,' she continued in a soft spoken tone. 'It is also why the Empire was notoriously defensive. An offensive war equalled needlessly lost lives. That thought was an anathema to them. It was also why they struck back so hard. Put the fear of total annihilation into your foe and you can be damned sure nobody will try that trick again. In short, they weren't a highly militarised society hellbent on inflicting as much pain as possible. The Empire was a military dedicated on keeping as many of their own people alive as possible and everyone who wasn't with them simply didn't count. The Empire waged war with only one idea in mind and that was to keep their own losses to an absolute minimum. They played by no other rules.' She recalled what Dreamer had done in order to get the few surviving members of Genesis out. It had been brutal, but he had been bereft of choice. What was left of the Empire was going up in flames at that point. It was desperation, pure necessity and a last-ditch gamble. He had condemned countless to save a handful. Yet when he had failed, he hadn't sought vengeance. Not because he couldn't, but because he wouldn't. Not him. No, not him. She felt a tingle run through her processors and wondered if it was guilt that she was feeling, as her mind caressed the memories of those lost at the end. People she had never been able to appreciate, until they had been long gone. Her sensors homed in on Mentuc. Dreamer. X-12845623. Her superior. Her last remaining brother. Her soulmate. She felt energy cycle through her guns, the hunger gnawing at her ship-self to take flight and destroy anything that could threaten them, and forced it all to power down.

'To save a single soul,' she said, aware that her avatar had sprung into being and was voicing the same words with a lot more emotion. 'The [I] Empire would burn the galaxy,' the AI's normal and human voice whispered in tandem.

'To sum it up, if I'm correct,' Jane began, unaware of the emotions tearing through Nightmare's digital mind or the red voice raging across the AI's bridge, 'the Empire was the genocidal, war mongering nation that everyone made it out to be, committing countless atrocities so apocalyptic in nature that the word war crime fails to do it justice, but every action they committed to was based on a single underlying, rational reason, namely that they wanted to save as many of their own people as possible? And that to a man, they believed this to be the right course of action?'

'Correct,' came the simple answer.

'That's... pretty brutal. I reckon Leonne would have a field day with trying to figure out how that delightful piece of reasoning came to be.' She glanced over to her sleeping friend. 'You're missing out, girl,' she chuckled, prodding Leonne. Jane doubted that her theatrics fooled the woman on the other end of the line. She was unnerved and knew it to be showing. Part of her was thrilled to discover new information. Another part of her mind was wondering if it all was true, and that part argued with another who found it made good sense when combined with what little other information she had. And a final part of her struggled with the newfound knowledge that everything the Empire had done, had sprung forth from an out of control desire for self preservation. That they hadn't been insane monsters, but human beings who followed what they believed was a very rational line of thought. The conversation with Leonne from the day before rang in her head. Moral accountability, she thought. Damn it, Leonne. You knew perfectly well this was coming. It didn't do anything to alter her stance on the genocidal behaviour of the Empire. They had killed trillions, wiped out entire species and rendered entire systems uninhabitable and nothing could ever justify that. They were the personification of evil by any sort of modern standards. Yet Leonne's words left a disgusting aftertaste in her mind. She felt as if her friend had understood the "why" behind the Empire. She knew Leonne well enough to know that the woman didn't agree with the "what", but the idea of genocide somehow being rationally explainable made her feel sick to her stomach. The thought that billions had been following that disgusting ideology and fully believed it was the right choice to exterminate planets wholesale was downright vomit inducing. The realisation that those people had been, as a matter of fact, intelligent, capable and sane people. That was what really sickened her. How could anyone be that remorseless? How could anyone rationalise genocide? The Imperials had been people, like her. With feelings, emotions, people they wanted to protect. And they had torched the galaxy for it. The thought that she shared genetics with those people...

'Might want to get a bucket,' the voice dryly interjected, breaking up her dark thoughts. 'You look like you're about to hurl and we've not even started the next show.'

'What are you inferring?' she asked, a worrying suspicion forming.

Somehow the box managed to emit a menacing aura, as if the woman behind it was taking great delight in the unease she was inflicting.

'Because it is one thing to discuss mass murder from afar,' the box whispered. 'It is another,' the voice continued as the lights dimmed and the projector flared to life, showing the interior of a large, Imperial vessel filled to the brim with Genesis soldiers in power armour and one person more than a head smaller.'

'To see it from the first row.'