Domel Arcturus

"George's stable," said Zarya as she asked Areil to return to the Vyrkaya with the human. "But he might not be able to continue on unless we give him a hand replacement. Considering his human physiology, however, we might need some time to figure out the nerve connections. We'll need to get back to Lekan to start the procedure."

I nodded, feeling that it was for the human's best interes. While George might not like having prosthetic hands, he needed to learn how to use it unless he happened to be ambidextrous.

With George's situation already resolved, we turned to the two pre-spacers we took with us.

I felt bad for taking them away from the life they had before, but you don't ask aliens from another planet to take you out of your own planet without a very good reason. Their life stories told us a lot of their history. The big, burly, bat-like alien was called Karlish, while the smaller, furry alien was called Magor. I was clued into their old lives when I saw how they dressed. Much like Kilkaja when we first met him, there were barely anything covering them but scraps and rags. For Karlish, the loincloth he wore was the only decency he had left. The shackles on each of his limbs and the collar did not help make it easier for him, as it made him look a lot like an escaped slave or criminal while he claimed not to be either. Magor, while he also wore nothing more than a loincloth, was actually more or less what you would expect a tribal villager would wear, especially since he was also wearing footwears and painted his fur. He seemed to be exploring or scouting when he stumbled upon Karlish.

But then, when we asked, they each told us their stories, and the story of their own planet.

"I may not look like it," said Magor. "But I am a scholar. Well...self-appointed scholar, to be exact. No one's going to trust a Makenian who tried to explain what I knew without being declared insane. That's why I was exiled, and...end up on this ship from the stars."

"I, on the other hand, was a warrior," said Karlish. "I am one of the so-called barbarian of Clom desert. Run afoul of Aba Nuk and chained to a cross, left to die. The little Makenian freed me from my bonds and we traveled together since. This is the first time we know each other beyond grunts and nods. We Kelewars were always shunned upon for being barbarians."

"I'm more surprised you didn't call us gods," I said.

"Our world is the second world according to legend and evidence," said Magor. "The first world was devastated by deaths and destruction, and the aftermath of it littered the world to this day. However, in my travels, I found artifacts telling stories about a life beyond the confines of our world, and that is why I know who you are. You're not gods. You are travelers from beyond our world. I did dismiss it as legends until I found this ship, long after I was exiled for being curious of the first world. The knowledge of it has been considered forbidden for as long as I can remember."

"Well, that make things much easier to explain," I said. "So, is there a reason why you immediately trust aliens claiming this ship for their own instead of your own people?"

Karlish and Magor looked at each other before Magor said, "We chose to travel with you because we are no longer accepted. I was thrown out of my village because I believed of a life beyond the stars, and Karlish is abandoned in the desert due to a perceived weakness. No one is going to believe me, anyway."

"And I know we won't be able to understand each other once we leave you," said Karlish. "Your gift of speech let us understand each other and finally show our gratefulness to each other."

So, they wanted to explore space because of different reasons. Magor was exiled because he believed of aliens and Karlish wanted to understand and thank Magor for saving him, which was easy due to the Universal Translator helping them understand each other. The translation technology was so good that it could even translate everything from a pre-space civilization. The nanotechnology involved in this was much better than the fish put in someone's ear that acted like a Universal Translator. Yeah, I know. Those things sounded nasty.

If I was still soldier-minded like I was before, I might insist on getting them home to uphold the Non-Interference Policy. That would make me look like a hypocrite since I did interact with the denizens of Earth, so I let them stay. No one objected to it, anyway.

The first thing they needed to do, however, was to look less like post-apocalyptic survivors. They were dirty and almost naked. It reminded me of when I met Kilkaja the first time. I wanted to tell them that, but Magor and Karlish seemed to realize it and asked me for a place to bath and some new clothes. Good thing the ship's 'AI' understood and scanned them while letting them know that the ship's gym had some clothes she provided through the synthesizers. Following the directional emergency light, they went into the emergency shafts toward where they needed to go.

After settling things with them, I returned to our original mission with the ship and the holo-interface system, and whether we could replicate it. But first, we needed to solve a new mystery: The living ship itself.

The living ship, or whatever it was, told us to go to the captain's office beside the bridge. We did so and found a log detailing the ship's test run and the reason why it ended up on that planet. We also found the core of the ship: a Vyrnian brain, heavily modified by cybernetics and kept alive due to an emergency cryogenic system that ran on its own power. The sight of a brain in the jar behind the captain's chair was unsettling. The fact that it was alive made me uneasy.

"Since I kept chronometer data, I can tell that it has been...uh, 750 years since we crash-landed on the planet," said the ship through a nearby comm panel.

"What happened?" I asked.

"The captain was killed in action when the Trikelian attacked," it said. "We crashed this ship in a remote location knowing that it would be trapped here and starve to death. It was a grave miscalculation. I witnessed how it defiled the dead Vyrnians by using their corpses and experience to attempt to restart the ship, though that takes a while since the bridge crew was successfully evacuated. I don't know their current fate except the last log entry: a general call to abandon ship. Ever since I woke up, I have been trying my best to impede the Trikelian's attempts to restart the ship. I was fortunate that the technician knowing the ship's secrets safely evacuated, so it never knew where my brain was."

"And you have been doing this for 750 years?" I asked. "That's impressive."

"Uh, not exactly," said the ship. "The cryogenic system failed a year ago. As a fail-safe, it woke me up. The Trikelian had the biggest surprise of its life, though I doubted it could even be surprised after being reduced into a feral, crazed monster. 750 years is far too long of a time, even for it."

"And you didn't kill it?"

"Unfortunately, the captain did not release the restrictions before she died. It happened so fast. Surprisingly, since that Trikelian could not fly the ship, it stopped the SOS signal instead of calling for its own help. I knew it was sentient, but that did not add up."

"No, it does," said Areil. "If that SOS signal was intercepted, their existence would be known to the Vyrnian Empire and they would become a target. The cultists would not have time to prepare and the Exodus would not happen. It clearly sacrificed itself, knowing that its long-term plan would succeed. Too bad for it, it never knew what happened, and I had a feeling the thought of it eroded its sanity."

"Can't win if you can't confirm it," I said with a hint of satisfaction in my voice.

"I have a feeling you want answers about the brain you keep staring at," said the ship. "This ship is a military prototype, class Ganymede. Well...it feels strange to say 'this ship' when it's clearly my own body."

"So, this body, and everything in it...is you?"

"Yes. Right now, my capabilities are limited due to disrepair. The crewmembers were responsible for that, while decision-making, navigation, and weapon system are my responsibilities. I may not look like it, but I'm part of the crew. The ship also has a computer system, but it's mostly supplanted by me. It's mostly a secondary unit in case I'm incapacitated. The whole ship's experimental."

"Since no one heard about it, I guess it failed," I said. "I was part of the military and I've never heard about this. Dad might know some things about you, though. Compared to me, he lived closer to when your ship is in operation."

"Even if he was in the military then, I doubt he'd even consider approving this project," said the ship. "It is not ethical to hook up a dying Vyrnian's brain into this ship, but you can't beat a mother's love."

I was curious of her story and how her brain became part of this ship, which, as she claimed, was immoral and would clearly not get any military funding. There must be a reason why the ship existed.

Thus, after we returned to Araxonis and began repairing the ship's internal body, I contacted father about the ship and its history. He looked it up on the database as he started talking about what he had in mind.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

"I only heard stories from your grandfather, but I never thought it was a military contract with a private company," said dad. "Judging by the state of our military technology in the years before the Exodus, I guess project Ganymede was not successful."

"Or controversial," I said.

"The idea of putting a Vyrnian brain in control of the ship's systems is just...not right. In fact, project Ganymede, despite military backing, did not even finish the project. According to the files in the archive, it was terminated halfway through the project because of ethical issues and possible implication of slavery since the Vyrnian brains hooked up to the ship would not be given complete free will along with given a restriction on its capability to kill. Essentially, the brains would be akin to a techno-organic computer."

"Which explained why the ship could not kill the Trikelian within it. The command prohibits the ship to kill without an override. The captain died before she could release Ganymede from the restrictions."

"Regarding that ship you recovered, it also has a mysterious history. Kylren Biomech, the private contractor, claimed that the project never passed beyond the planning stage. However, that ship you recovered was real and would still function properly if it wasn't for the age and damage caused by the Trikelian. In fact, from the archived manifest, the ship was listed as a private yacht for the owner of the company, Kylren Marghet. Its private nature means that we don't know anything about the ship until you found it in a relatively good shape."

"Wait a second. Did the owner registered a military-grade, weaponized ship as a private yacht? Would that be in violation of the Empirical Peace Act?"

"The Empire's...not as clean as you thought it might be."

"But even with bribes, the ship's designed more for an exploration ship than a yacht. It has more weapons than what you'd expect a yacht would have!"

"Which is why the answers may be found on that ship and with the ship's brain. Also, regarding the universal holo-interface system, you might want to start with the ship, but with the problem of it being the 'body' of a Vyrnian brain...I think you need her permission for it."

Yeah, now that the ship's no longer just a ship, we needed permission from the owner, who happened to be a Vyrnian with the body of a spaceship. I mean, who would just accept being gutted from the inside out, or even worse, being used by crewmembers operating the ship. Now, I see why it wasn't right. It wasn't just unethical, it was also intrusive.

Regarding the holo-interface, due to ship being made two generations before my time, it was rather antiquated and looked more like post-Exodus Vyrnian interface: knobs, switches, and keys mixed in with holographic interface and touchscreen. Not as elegant as I was used to, but it was similar to the holo-interfaces I found throughout my journey in this era. I guess it's best to keep the technology a hybrid given that not many technologies from the years leading to Exodus survived. Even Lekan station used an older, non-holographic interface to access the digital records stored in the database, partly for security, but mostly for redundancy. Not sure what happened when Exodus happened to cause that discrepancy, but I guess it had something to do with the 'tech exclusivity' happening ten years before the Exodus.

But antique for me was something else for Saif and his team. They were clearly so fascinated by how many of our history were lost just by seeing the holographic interface technology. Good thing Ganymede (the ship's name, which happened to be the brain's name: Kylren Ganymede) was as cheery as she was when she was a Vyrnian, based on the profile they stored on Lekan. She was chosen as a brain donor for the project because the project was made around her own ailment. Ganymede suffered a disease that would impair her body as she grew older while also shortening her lifespan. The ship happened to be a way to save her before her body deteriorated further.

Ganymede was given quite a freedom in term of managing the ship, and the decision to crash-land the ship was a choice she and a couple of surviving Vyrnians made in an act of self-sacrifice. Unfortunately, she inadvertently caused the Exodus because her act of self-preservation ended up keeping us in the dark. Couldn't blame her for that, though. She's a Vyrnian who happened to have the body of a ship. Her decision was governed not by calculations and risk, but from her heart. That was a weakness that she admitted.

After some discussions on what would happen next, Ganymede gave permission for us to study her holo-interface system 'within reason' and not 'too invasive'. I mean, you gotta admit that this was something very new and so different from what we knew. We were treading in an unknown territory and we also need to slightly modify what we needed to know as decency when dealing with a Vyrnian with the body of a ship. I know it's strange, but after dealing with Kyrand and all the bullshit of me being mistaken for an Earth wyvern and becoming the partner of a recently graduated wyvern rider who got abducted with me to space, I think Ganymede's existence was the least of my worries.

With Ganymede's situation resolved, my next one would be to deliver the news to George, who survived an attack from a Trikelian but must now content with a prosthetic hand. I know that post-Exodus technology was advanced enough to be able to give George a good hand to replace the one mangled and damaged by the Trikelian. While it would be hard and take time, Zarya had scanned George back on Arkari and she still had the data for it. In fact, if needed, she might be able to clone George's hand and reattach it. But, knowing George, he might choose the prosthetic if it would mean to brag about it and get an edge, especially after he knew that it was more of an upgrade than a liability.

But I thought it should wait until he regained consciousness. For now, I wanted to have a chat with Kyrand and why it was drawn to me.

I figured that talking to Kyrand might make me look like I was talking to myself. I did not have a comm implant in my head, so I needed to speak, not think, of what I wanted to say. So, I used one of the empty rooms in Organa. I knew that the Vyrnian ship lady might hear everything, but I knew she's good with secrets.

"Why did you help me?" I asked, knowing that it was Kyrand who caused the Trikelian to detach in fear. "I thought you're an observer."

"Won't you do whatever you can to protect your body?" said Kyrand, who took the form of a small, dog-sized dragon.

"Just so you know, this is my body, not yours."

"I know."

"Can't you give me a straight answer? I know you are an eldritch being, but the least you can do is give me something I need to know instead of putting me in the dark. It makes me more and more convinced you have a nefarious purpose."

"Hmph. You're no fun."

"Because it's not a game. It never is."

Kyrand sighed. "You want the truth, then I'll give you one. I am a dragon of Ossogoth, but you've caught up on that. But, normally, you wouldn't even get to meet me. In fact, if it wasn't for you, I might still be inside a dimensional prison, trapped in a box isolated from the normal dimensions."

"So, you're a criminal?"

"If that's the word you're using, then yes."

"Dangerous?"

"It depends on who you ask. If you ask the Trikelians, then yes."

"So, you're an enemy of the Trikelians?"

"More like a fallen god if there's such a thing. The Trikelians have their own legend, and that legend involved how the dragon of Ossogoth, namely myself, was defeated and forever imprisoned in hell to be punished along with those who followed its virtues. Well, sometimes, history could turn to legends if it happened a very long time ago."

"Ah, I see. So, you are a demon," I said. "Well, if that's how you claim yourself to be, then the Trikelians are all damned because they clearly followed a demon's virtue. And now, you are using me to free you from the shackles than bind you in your version of hell."

Kyrand chuckled. "You do make a good storyteller, Domel Arcturus. You found many things you know and made it a complex story, completely made from your own imagination. Are you planning to do so when you retire?"

"Pretty sure you're mocking me."

"I might. You ever heard the phrase 'history is written by the victors?' There's a lot of versions of it, but they all have the same meaning."

"They won and they wrote their triumphant accomplishment," I said. "Who wouldn't? If that's what they'll do to keep their claims strong, then they'll do it. You need a villain in a story. Otherwise, it won't work."

"But how about if you twist it a little and made those who won the villains instead?"

"An alternate history, you mean. Are you suggesting that you're being wrongfully accused of a crime you clearly did not commit?"

"Like I said, a good storyteller. No, I don't have any claims or any way to deny what I did. But, if you need the truth...well, let's just say you visited my 'cell', and through it I was given a second chance to enjoy this reality."

"When did I even visit your 'prison'?"

"Have you forgotten the discrepancy of your personal timeline?"

"You mean, you have been with me ever since I time traveled and landed in Earth's distant past? Won't that just...you know, limited? I was asleep the whole time."

"Oh, yes, you did. I did, too. But, given how the Trikelians were the cause of your peril, I think you need an incentive to return to your planet and see its state with your own eyes."

"So, you're using me to get your revenge on the Trikelians?"

"Revenge? No, not something that personal. I think the right word would be 'suicide'."

"Suicide? How are you going to do that?"

Kyrand chuckled. This time, to my surprise, it turned into a form I knew best: myself, complete with black scales and Vyrnian physiology. But, the eyes were different. They followed what its eyes looked like in its dragon form: six, green eyes with roughly the same size with my two eyes. It looked so freaky and otherworldly.

"Spoilers," it said while cupping its hand around my maws. "I thought three-dimensionals love a good story."

"Unless that story has a very bad ending where I end up dead."

"Then stick around. You'll be surprised by it, too."

"Kyrand, wait. You can't kill me just yet."

"If you're so worried, then let me spoil you. No, you won't die."

"That's reassuring," I said, sarcastically.

"Glad to know you're fine with that arrangement. Let's talk later, after you've sorted out the confusion."

I did not understand what he meant until I heard Ganymede calling me through the PA.

"So, having a little...something?"

I quickly thought that she was eavesdropping, so I said, "Ganymede, I know this ship's your body, but can't I have some privacy?"

"No, I did not hear most of it," said the living ship. "Mostly when you said about being dead and a bad ending. You...wanna talk about it?"

"Maybe next time," I said. "So, why did you call?"

"Your friend is worried since you closed all communications from within that room and asked me to check on you. I tried my best to stay out of the conversation, but I found out that you were not talking through any terminals or comm. You're just talking to yourself."

"How long have I been in here?" I asked, curious.

"Two hours."

"Two...? But how?"

"Don't ask me. I'm the ship."

And a sassy ship, too.

Sassy or not, Ganymede was ready to cooperate when I asked about what happened in that room. From the vid, it did look like I was losing it until I realized that I talked normally. The whole conversation was supposed to last around 30 minutes or so, but when I was in that room, there was an unaccounted 90 minutes that was somehow skipped. Ganymede was being honest about not hearing most of the story. Even so...what happened in those 90 minutes?

I could ask Kyrand, but the dragon would just give me a cryptic answer. I mean, even if it claimed to be from a higher dimension, you couldn't expect me to believe it.

Whatever happened, it did not help that I was kept in the dark by it. I wanted to trust Kyrand, but it did not help me.

Either it had an ulterior motive or it was trying to protect me from a Trikelian conspiracy, one that would mean the end of the Vyrnian race.