The next day...

The Surface of Steinhull, RSC-2W-0063 “Dara Tonn”

Sinn'Are'Sen rolls over in bed and shuts his eyes to block out the light.

“Sinn. It is time to get up.”

“Don' wanna. Feel like shit.”

“Your injuries are healed...”

“I know. Want to sleep another hour.”

“...and your implant is active in the first stage. I don't know what it would do if you activated it while asleep.”

“Fair point. Just gonna activate it an' trance out. Let me know how long it takes this time.”

Sinn forces his bleary eyes to focus long enough to 'select' the blinking winged eye icon. As soon as it vanishes Sinn lets his eyes unfocus and his breathing drop into a meditative pattern.

Notable learning events have transpired. You have fought a foe classified as “technological heretic, minor” and emerged victorious. You have encountered the True Foe, fought him, and emerged victorious, sane, and uncorrupted. Processing and applying experiential gains...

For: being injured to the threshold of death in combat and having survived, Sound Constitution trait is unlocked. Applying...

For: being injured to the threshold of death in combat and having survived while alone, Sound Constitution Rank II trait is unlocked. Applying...

For: reloading successfully in combat on practice instinct alone, the Rapid Reload trait is unlocked. Applying...

For: successful use of a weapon type that you have not trained with in combat, the relevant weapon training trait has been unlocked. Trait Unlocked: Pistol training (Laser). Applying...

Recommendation: acquire stronger weapons and / or secure aid before engaging the stronger manifestations of the True Foe.

Sinn feels his breathing return to normal and sits up on his bed to finally scrub the sleep grit from his eyes.

“How long Dara Tonn?”

“Fifty nine minutes and nineteen seconds. Your body has undergone minor but notable changes that can be summarized as a general improvement in overall health. Notably multiple new muscle memory patterns have been imprinted onto your cerebellum. I am unable to determine what those patterns correspond to.”

“If the scrolling test I 'see' when my implant is active, I just got the quick and clean version of laser pistol training and reload drills. That reminds me, does the engineering compartment contain the tooling necessary to fabricate weapons?”

“Basic or primitive tools that can also serve as weapons such as knives or hammers yes, actual firearms not so much. I suppose you could improvise one if you set your mind to it, but such a weapon would be woefully inferior to anything acquirable via purchase for Republic credits. Thinking about your fight with that metal 'false man'?”

“Yeah, thinking I might need a bigger gun if I encounter another one of them. Or better ammo for my Magma SM. Last I checked the heavyweight AP bullets were five credits for a pack of six, plus ten for shipping out here. Something like a Talon 3 automatic pistol was seventy credits and a further credit for a box of twenty bullets or a mag with eighteen bullets. Plus shipping of course. I've only got ten credits to my name at the moment, so that's not an option. I guess I'll need to salvage something and hope I can make or scrounge enough ammunition to keep it loaded.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“What about that energy pistol the 'false man' was using?”

“That weapon felt just wrong in my hand. Not just 'I've never used this' wrong but fundamentally wrong. It was almost like a sheen of psychic grease or slime coated the entire thing. You are on the right track though. If I can salvage a laser weapon and some power packs we could probably charge them off of your fusion reactor. How are we doing for fuel by the way?”

“Atmospheric harvesting is adequate to keep my hydrogen tanks topped up and, at current rate of consumption, slowly refill them. It will be nearly six months before I an fully refueled and we can attempt to take off. At which point we will need to head for the nearest Republic orbital infrastructure to top up. Taking off will consume eighty six percent of the hydrogen in my tanks to fuel the reactor and the ion thrusters.”

“That's not a lot of fuel left in reserve. But that's a problem for the future. The Empire 'communicator' finished it's search, right?”

“Affirmative. If I have the translation of them Empire's numerals correct, and assuming they use a base ten counting system the same as the Republic does...”

“They do. Or rather, they did”

“... then the search found fifty two thousand four hundred twenty seven results. I'll need your help to scroll through them. No fingers, remember. I'll also be able to get a lot of input for my Empire-Republic translation matrix. Aside from the missing letters it looks to be fairly close so far.”

“Fifty two thousand files? Sky and stars, how much storage does that Empire 'communicator' have?”

“About sixty percent of what I would need to house my personality matrix if it was empty. The 'false man' might have...”

“No. Just... No. I Psyniscienced the remains to pass the time between safe Heals. Machines are usually gray and flat in that psi-enhanced vision. No 'soul' for lack of a better term. AIs sometime have bits of color on them, humans a full-blown kaleidoscope of colors, psions the same but the colors are more alive, more organic in their motions. That 'false man'? A black abyss. I wasn't sure, but I thought I saw the image of eyes either closed, welded shut, or both all over it's form. Not an anti-psion, if such a thing exists, so much as a tiny 'living' tear in the fabric of reality now shut for good.”

“If the hardware can be made to run the software, wouldn't the 'soul' change during the installation process?”

“Problem being that it's not like a data read error. It's more like a virus or cancerous tumor. Miss any part of it and it will eventually come back. Moreover I can't tell if that 'virus' is a data construct, a physical piece of hardware, a psionic construct, or some aberrant mixture of the above. Remember haw messed up the video and audio feed got in that Reality Erosion? That could be your entire existence.”

“I begin to comprehend why you think this is a bad idea.”

“Left out the capital letters there Dara Tonn. That one particular Reality Erosion is stable at least – it stays in one place and does not spread. That 'false man'... it was mobile. And I just don't know if that 'tear' that 'virus' would spread. Into you, or back out of you into everything else around you.”

“That would be a Very Bad thing I take it.”

“Best case is predictable linear growth. Probable case is quadratic growth. Worst case is outright exponential growth. End result, if not checked or miraculously self-stabilized? Yankee Kilo or Zulu Kilo, pick your poison and drink it down. Either real space and warpspace merge into a single new space or everything becomes warpspace.”

“Ok, ok, I get it. This would be very much a Terrible Thing that we will absolutely not be doing.”

“Right, sorry, still shaken up a bit. Getting back on track, do any of the files on the Empire 'communicator' look like a map we can use?”

“Nothing I can read on the first screen of results. I did get a hit on the connector though. I'll need the translation matrix up and running before I can make full use of it though.”

“Really? Interesting. What is it?”

“A proprietary version of one of the old standard 80 pin connector cables. Four rows of twenty pins instead of two rows of forty pins each. I've already run schematics for an adapter over to the micro fabricator. Take a scroll and read off any files that catch your eye I guess?”

“Let me find a robe that doesn't have holes shot in it first. And I still have to do that Exploration log entry.”

Five hours later...

Sin scrubs at the bags under his eyes. The exploration log entry had gone smoothly, as had a second report to Funi'Happ'Sen over at the RPC. Sinn is tired, worn out, and ready to call it quits. Dara Tonn has the search results scrolling by just slow enough that he can read them as a cross-check but Sinn doesn't expect any new results before he goes to sleep. Dara Tonn can feel his head dipping towards the work table.

“I'm done for the day Dara Tonn. Wake me if it's an emergency, otherwise I'll get up in the morning.”

“Do you mean later today or...?”

“Oh, huh, it is after midnight. Later today, yeah. G'night."

“Good night Sinn.”