The same day...
Republic world of Krigertenkere, RPC Site 12
Funi'Happ'Sen sits at his desk in the Republic Psionics Command's Site 12. It was an utterly nondescript Republic bureaucratic building on the outside: a block of bare weathered concrete pierced by rows of tinted windows. Inside the RPC functionaries performed common record keeping tasks in endless cycles. The vast majority of them were in fact bureaucratic paper moving drones. A small handful of them were not. Funi'Happ'Sen is one of those few, alongside his boss and a handful of others. The reports on his communicator screen are merely a cover for the job that Funi'Happ'Sen actually performs: maintaining the Veil between the dirty secrets of the Republic and the population of the republic. Warpspace was not the placid high-energy alternate dimension that the population thought it was. Beings lived in it, and they occasionally crept across the divide into real space. More common were items or people touched by that dimension, granted or cursed by an bending of reality in their properties or presence. Republic trained psions were, universally, touched in this way.
Funi'Happ'Sen knew exactly why he was handed the menial task of observing PRC functionaries move paper. All of them were 'failed' psions, unable to manifest an effect via incantation. They were still useful bodies, and they were all possible events in the making. Funi'Happ'Sen was not a failed psion, but he was a maimed one after the Hang fire incident host him most of his nose and the right side of his face. Republic cyberneticists had forged a suitable replacement, but it was never going to let him out 'in the field.'
Funi'Happ'Sen no longer blamed Sinn'Are'Sen for saving his life that day. He had, at first, for costing Funi'Happ'Sen the chance to serve the Republic. But right after graduation he had been offered a chance inside the RPC itself. A chance to be on the far side of the Veil, to keep it intact, to keep the Republic safe in a way few others could. Ever since that day Funi'Happ'Sen had thanks Sinn'Are'Sen for gifting him with that chance.
A tap on the cubicle wall brings Funi'Happ'Sen out of his usual reverie.
“Funi, would you mind joining me in conference room three for a few moments? I've a sensitive file I'd like you to work on.”
“Sure thing boss. Am I going to need one of the document lock boxes afterwards?”
“Nothing like that, no. The pieces aren't dangerous. It's the whole that needs an extra set of eyes.”
“Give me a minute to lock up my desk and I'll be right with you.”
Funi'Happ'Sen taps the keys to secure his communicator. This was a tasking above and beyond keeping an eye on his fellow drones. Why now? Why him? Funi'Happ'Sen stands, walks the twenty steps to and through the door of conference room three and closes it behind himself.
“Take a seat. This won't take long but I don't want you falling over in shock.”
“Who and why?”
“Already guessing huh?”
“That's the game we all play boss. Sometimes we even get it right.”
“Yup. And it's time to play a guessing game again. The who is one Sinn'Are'Sen. The Why is him getting assigned to a location that threatens the Veil.”
“How? I was alongside Sinn'Are'Sen at RPC Stormavsirkel. Aside from the skin and hair, there was nothing particularly odd about him. We've both seen stranger in psions.”
“It's all in the files I'll rout to your communicator after this meeting. Your task is twofold. First, determine if Sinn'Are'Sen's assignment to Steinhull was intentional or not. Second, to monitor Sinn'Are'Sen's exploration logs and other reports as they come in. This is not an Event, just routine monitoring under MtV-0001.”
“Report frequency?”
“The first on inside of a week, and monthly after that. Unless something comes up that needs my attention. You know what that would look like.”
“Understood.”
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Funi'Happ'Sen rubs his eyes in frustration. There was so much data to go over, and so much of it was pure mundane cruft. He thought that he had enough for a conclusion on the first half of his new assignment. The full report would take the full week to write, but the opening could be started before the end of his shift. Funi'Happ'Sen pulls up a fresh text document, dusts off his keyboard, and sets to typing.
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'The assignment of Sinn'Are'Sen from the RPC to the RSC does not appear to be per-planned. Were that the case, then Sinn'Are'Sen would have contacted the Krigertenkere RSC recruitment center directly after graduating from RPS Stormavsirkel. Instead he spent several hours commuting back to his mother's home, eating dinner, and socializing before hitching a ride to the RSC recruitment center. While the possibility that this was a deception can not be set aside at this time, it seems unlikely given how long and far the supposed detour was.
'Sinn'Are'Sen's assignment to RSC-2W-0063 and to the Steinhull ruins is intentional but not malicious with regards to an attempt to cause a breach in the Veil. Run'Auga'Sen noted Sinn'Are'Sen's behavior conditioning report and, prior to the completion of the relevant graduation ceremony, offered placement into Commands that would remedy the issue as part of routine Command indoctrination and / or orientation. When this measure was not successful, Run'Auga'Sen reached out to Flakka'Hluti'Sen to arrange for Sinn'Are'Sen to be placed into an assignment where he would pose no risk. Flakka'Hluti'Sen arranged for Sinn'Are'Sen's assignment to RSC-2W-0063 and the Steinhull Ruins based on this information.
'This appears to be a case of making the best of poor options. More investigation is needed to confirm or deny at this time, but Sinn'Are'Sen was placed on a marginally capable ship with minimal assets and assigned to a mission that has isolated him from all Republic personnel and assets. Moreover this mission will keep Sinn'Are'Sen isolated for the foreseeable future. Should proactive action need to be taken then Flakka'Hluti'Sen has already (unknowingly) arranged that it will occur outside of the sight of any uninvolved Republic assets.
'Continued Monitoring of Sinn'Are'Sen's exploration log and other documents is required to determine his likelihood of causing a breach of the Veil, as well as the severity of any such breach. Moreover monitoring of telemetry from RSC-2W-0063 is also highly desirable in the case that it, and not Sinn'Are'Sen, is the subject of an Event.'
Funi'Happ'Sen saves the text document, seals it with his personal encryption key, locks his communicator and clocks out to head home. Sinn'Are'Sen's exploration log and the rest of the report would be waiting for him in the morning.
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The next day...
The Surface of Steinhull, The Steinhull ruins
Sinn'Are'Sen jogs along the second ring passageway of the Steinhull ruins. He had briefly explored it the day before, but this was Sinn's first real chance to map it out. All of the outer Radial passageways line up perfectly with the ones he had seen and mapped on the outer ring passageway the day before. The security turrets overhead mark the distance with perfect regularity and sporadic hatches on either side are noted for future exploration.
“It's almost as if everyone packed up and left for some reason. There is no signs of a fight besides, possibly, the blown-open airlock I'm using to get into the station.”
“It might also explain how the station is so intact.”
“What do you mean? Dara Tonn?”
“If this was an orderly evacuation then the reactor would be shut down or put into a standby state to mitigate the chance of it exploding.”
“Plausible I suppose. I haven't seen any corridor markings, nor any insignia on the hatches aside from the bird-and cog we already documented. What do you make of that?”
“Electronic signage perhaps? There is certainly plenty of evidence of electronically controlled access at various hatches. Card swipe locks and the like.”
“That's going to make getting into the compartments a pain in the neck if all the locks are engaged.”
“Or they could all be disengaged by default in the case of an emergency or evacuation. Only the most secure compartments would remain locked under those conditions. Try one or three at random and see what you find?”
“Might as well. One interior hatch, one exterior hatch, and then pick one at random I guess.”
“Rolling 1D2... coreward hatch.”
“Coreward?”
“In towards the center of the station. You called in 'interior', which I must point out is incorrect.”
“Probably use that in the exploration log then. Coreward, rimward, coreward... first hatch coming up. Slight issue of no handles. Pickax will have to do.”
Sinn sets the pickax in a seam in the hatch and pulls. The hatch budges a few centimeters and then stops.
“Not locked I guess. Trying again...”
A further three heaves pulls the hatch open enough for Sinn to slip through. The room is clearly an abandoned barracks. Metal bed frames suitable for a single mattress sit in neat, orderly rows. The tattered remains of synthetic sheets wrap around the skeletal springs of long-decayed mattresses. A metal chest lies open at the foot of each bed frame.
“Guess I had better log this one. Ready?”
“Ready.”
“Begin exploration log addendum
“An abandoned barracks or bunk room. Rimward of second ring passageway, placing it in the outer ring of compartments. Depth of compartment and lack of hatch in the far bulkhead indicates this compartment does not cover the full depth of the outermost ring of compartments. Map of Steinhull ruins updated accordingly. Chests are still open, indicating some haste in departure. Hatch was shut but not locked. Counting the beds this compartment held forty five individuals. Judging by the size of the beds said individuals were roughly the size and build of humans in the Republic. This is inconsistent with the observed height of the airlock and passageways, all of which have in excess of three meters of space between the deck and any overhead obstacles such as the security turrets. Possibility: quarters for children? Possibility: multiple species aboard the station, including non-humans? Unable to begin to answer that question at this time as no remains have been found.
“End exploration log addendum.”
“Clean copy. You really think there could have been non-humans on board this station?”
“No way of knowing, but all of the overheads and hatches give three meters of space vertically. Even a tall human hardly uses up more then two. It could be for cargo I guess, or some unknown regulation like the turrets, or for some form of exosuit. There is simply no way to know without physical remains to examine. Given the state of the synthetic cloth, I don;t think we are going to find any.”
“Do not count that possibly out. One, there may bey semi-preserved corpses in a cryobay somewhere. Even if they cryo systems have long failed, the bodies may have been preserved for a bit longer then one lying in the hallway. There could also be an armory or equipment room with surviving examples of body armor in it. Ceramics and metal don't degrade the way flesh, bone, and cloth do.”