A flood of emotions overwhelmed me as I began going through the rest of the containers. Every single one of them was accounted for: spare parts, ammunition, pre-purified foodstuffs, armor mods, and the drones. What remained distinctly unaccounted for out of everything however, was one of the most advanced pieces of equipment out of the entire manifest.
The Exoreality Communications Suite, or ECS for short.
But that was only half of the story.
The fact of the matter was, I was now in a race against time. The IAS was anything if not over prepared. Every contingency was accounted for, and every point of failure had been meticulously planned for months in advance. That’s how they were able to perfect the suit after all. That’s how they were able to ensure that if one particular aspect of the mission was compromised, another could easily take its place. Or at the very least, function adequately enough, in order to maintain an acceptable level of mission integrity. This over preparedness however went beyond planning and preparation for the mission itself. It even took into consideration the fail safes to be activated upon the unlikely event of my untimely demise, as macabre as that was to consider. Indeed, due to a lack of intel on the Nexus and with little to no communication on their end aside from vague and cryptic messages, the IAS had no choice but to double down on their contingency plans.
These plans ranged from the simplest of things such as the EVI’s kill-switch, through to the Broken Arrow protocols to be activated in the event I was KIA.
Amongst these plans, one in particular had been activated the moment the containers left Earth. It was a contingency that sat somewhere between the EVI’s kill-switch and the Broken Arrow Protocol in terms of its severity.
As the scientists and administrators back in the IAS were prone to do, this contingency was given a name quite fitting for its purpose, or rather, the context it was designed for.
The Lost and Found procedures.
That was, of course, its colloquial name. In actuality, the operational manual penned it as the Denial of Sensitive Assets to Unauthorized Parties protocols, or the DSAUP protocols. I had to agree on the colloquial term this time around.
The protocols, or procedures depending on how you looked at them, were deceptively simple. In the case any one container was not signed off on the manifest by its operator, or in the event a container was marked missing, an explosive would be detonated within the container causing the contents within to be rendered beyond practical, operable, observational, and improvisational use by a malicious and, or unauthorized party. The countdown would begin immediately after departure, and was set at 72 hours.
As it stood, the rest of the containers displayed a total of 1 hour having elapsed since the timer had begun, which left me with 71 hours on the clock.
Panic had slowly set in after that realization. Not just because of the countdown, but primarily due to the possibility of the third trigger for the DSAUP protocols being activated. That being, the detection of substantial and systematic efforts in the forceful and unauthorized access of cargo. So in the case of say, a liberal use of force being detected by the container without operator approval… the explosives would be activated all the same.
Whilst in theory the perpetrators would still be safe from harm, with the explosion being confined within the container, there was still a possibility of something going wrong. Especially if the structural integrity of the container had been sufficiently compromised.
This realization shook me to my core, and despite the extremely low possibility of the container’s structural integrity failing before the explosives went off, the fact that magic was involved immediately threw a spanner into any risk assessment calculations.
My whole body felt like it had just been dealt the greatest sucker punch in the world, and for the 3rd time this night I felt existential dread once more flooding over me.
I struggled to find my footing as the suit was quite literally the only thing keeping me from losing my balance. I felt a sense of vertigo spread throughout my form from head to toe, as I closed my eyes and tried my best to remain calm, to regain my footing.
Instead of the slow, gradual journey into regaining my bearings however, I felt a warmth flooding over me similar to the one I felt back in the Grand Hall. It started on my shoulder, with a familiar soft and ticklish touch that sent a wave of warmth radiating through my whole body. After being cut off from the outside world for a full 7 hours, and experiencing the first taste of my life stuck behind a wall of synthetic fibers, steel, composites, and glass, a reassuring touch was the last thing I’d expected. But it was one I needed, as I turned around to face this would-be perpetrator and forced out a smile underneath my helmet.
“Emma, you have been standing staring at your… boxes for a considerable amount of time now. Are you feeling quite alright?” The princess asked with genuine concern.
To which I responded with a confident nod, as a renewed sense of purpose and invigoration flooded over me. “Yeah.”
Now wasn’t the time for panic, it was a time for action. So as soon as I regained my bearings so too did my list of priorities become clear to me. The source of all panic could always be tied to a lack of intel, and perhaps that’s what the Academy was banking on for newrealmers like me.
However if the Academy was going to play this game, then they’d find themselves woefully outmatched and underprepared. We were playing by two completely different rule-sets. Heck, I’d say we were playing two completely different games outright. Maxed out spells and tricked out enchantments might have been the name of the game for the likes of Fantasycraft and Hammer of Ages… but I was playing Call to Conflict.
They had no countermeasures for the moves I could take.
But I had to be wary.
Because that same logic went both ways.
And despite the starting advantage I had with the armor and the painstaking preparations of an entire government agency behind me, I knew better than to underestimate an opponent, especially one with home turf advantage.
At the end of the day, Intel would be the ultimate equalizer here. So it was time to rectify this disparity in situational awareness.
Step one on my priority list, was making use of the over preparedness of the IAS’ logistics and supply division. Courtesy of the Administrator herself, who deemed it necessary to push for the over engineered nature of every aspect of this mission, this step would involve the complete and systematic review of the logs from every sensor and camera on these containers.
Accessing CARGO DATALOGS… Standing by…
DATALOGS Ready. Total raw footage: 793 Hours across 122 cameras. Total raw sensor logs: 527 Gigabytes.
Please Specify Query
My heart would have sunk if I had to deal with this manually like some intern stuck in a low paying data aggregating job back in the 23rd century. It would take weeks for me to review all the footage in real time, not to mention the utter magnitude of the data recorded by the sensors. Thankfully I wouldn’t have to, as this was where the EVI would come in…
“EVI, what’s your status?” I spoke within my helmet, making sure all internal audio was severed from the outside world.
“Nominal, Emma Booker. What are your orders?”
“I want a full review of the raw camera footage and sensor scans within the Cargo Datalogs for anything anomalous or that could be considered intentional tampering or misappropriation. Report on anything and everything that could be considered tampering and unauthorized seizure of property that could activate the DSAUP protocols. Prioritize determining the location and whereabouts of Container 10.” I barked out, to which the EVI beeped once in affirmation.
“Affirmative. Commencing data aggregation and processing… standby… time to completion… 5 minutes and 43 seconds.” It spoke. Its voice was very much typical of what I’d expected from a military grade EVI. I didn’t know how or why this norm came to be, but the voice was harsher, gruffer, and more direct than that of most civilian smart systems. If this thing was a true AI and had genuine tonal inflections, I could definitely see it being the most passive aggressive backseat drivers of all time. I was thankful that for my sake the EVI was just that, a simple, dumb virtual intelligence, because being stuck in a suit with a permanent backseat driver was an added stress I just didn’t need.
With the first order of business pending, I turned to the next item on my priority list: active tracking. All of the containers were equipped with a corresponding signal I could detect on my scanners. I knew that reviewing the logs would be necessary to narrow down the search radius as it could determine the last known location of the container. But given it would be a full 5 minutes before it was done, there was no harm in at least trying to see if I was able to detect the missing container’s signal.
With a few taps of my wrist mounted data-pad, I began pinging for the missing container.
The rest of the containers appeared on screen almost instantly. With the ping radius waning as it failed to travel through the thick solid stone slabs of the castle walls. Maybe it was because of the thickness of the walls themselves, and the fact that they only grew thicker and larger with every floor down. Or perhaps there was some latent signal dampening effect due to some enchantment or mana-derived anomaly. Whatever the case was, my scanner wasn’t able to travel further than the dorm, and the hallway in front of it.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
With just under 5 minutes left on the clock, I finally turned to face Thacea, who at this point had been worryingly holding on to my shoulder for the entire duration of my voiceless tasks.
The princess would be the third matter to address on my priority list.
“Emma.” Thacea began, staring at me with those piercing, worrying eyes. “What is the matter?” She asked with increasing worry, tightening her grip on my shoulder as she did so.
I sighed in response, letting that go through my vocoders as my hands instinctively reached to pinch the bridge of my nose… only resulting in my gloved hands bonking against the glass and steel of my helmet unceremoniously. “I’m missing a container. Er. A piece of luggage. And it holds something very, very important to me.” I stated simply, barely able to hide my tired and strained voice underneath a veneer of stoic confidence.
This seemed to perplex the avian for the briefest of seconds. It hadn’t occurred to me how this might have looked like from an outsider’s perspective. Whining and basically throwing a tantrum over a lost bag… I must have looked like one of those passengers wheezing and whining at a spaceport baggage claim.
To her credit though, Thacea’s expressions didn’t remain entrenched in perplexity, nor did it evolve into disdain or annoyance. No, it moved into the same genuine look of concern and sympathy that she’d shown me multiple times before. “I see.” She began nodding slowly. “Can I assume that this piece of luggage contains an item that may be more than just a simple change of clothes, er…” She looked me up and down. “Armor… plates… in your case…” She corrected herself before moving on. “And perhaps contains materials vital in sustaining your existence here in the Nexus?” She asked, genuinely impressing me as she put two and two together. I’d only just introduced her to the concept of my armor and its intended use during the events of the orientation; and even then it was a short gross oversimplification. So to be drawing from that alone, and making relatively accurate guesswork as to the contents of my cargo, was a pretty sound and reasonable deduction. Plus, if it had been the tent that was missing she honestly wouldn’t have been far off the mark.
“No, no. It’s not that.” I quickly clarified, as I gave the container containing the tent a few hard slaps. “That is all accounted for right here. I guess I should be grateful that I’m not on a countdown for my assured demise then.” But the potential demise for whoever’s messing with the missing fucking box. I spoke jokingly, which certainly didn’t do much to lighten up the princess’ expressions. “Sorry. Right, so, what I’m missing is an item that isn’t necessarily vital to my long term survival no. However, it’s still something that’s…” Vital to my mission? No, that doesn’t sound right. “... necessary for me to be able to talk to folks back home.” I explained simply.
Thacea took this information with a certain pause, as if considering something before responding proper. “Emma, the Academy doesn’t allow for unmonitored communications back to your homerealm. In fact, only under extraneous circumstances or matters pertaining to an urgency of livelihood, statehood, or personhood, would a portal be opened for the expressed purposes of engaging in conversation and communication. What you talk of is… forbidden.” Thacea explained in a manner that should have sounded blunt, but was tempered by the polite, measured nature of her cadence. “In fact, such a device you speak of is unheard of in any of the adjacent realms.”
I should’ve guessed as such. It made sense though. Given the fact the Academy seemed hell bent on shaping their students to their own ends, what better way to do this than to deny any and all contact with the outside world? It was step one of starting a cult, making sure that your victims had no lifelines to friends, family, and loved ones. This sent a shiver down my spine, but I didn’t let it bother me too much, given the fact that at least one of my peers seemed smart enough to not fall for those sorts of tactics. Thacea clearly had a good head on her shoulders. That whole spiel about surviving at the Academy together, rather than fighting amongst ourselves, cemented that fact.
She’d be an ally through and through, something I hoped only solidified further as time went on.
“There are many reasons behind this, Emma. The stated and practical reason is that the liberal use of portals beyond the threshold quota is inextricably linked to the uncontrolled expansion of taint, leading to the destabilization of mana-fields over time. This was but one of the reasons for the Great War after all. The unofficial reason is, as you might have surmised-”
“Because they want to control the flow of information. By having a monopoly over communication, they effectively control you and your realms.” I interjected, cocking my head, as it was effectively the only way I could convey a questioning gesture beneath the hardened layers of metal and synthetic weave.
Thacea responded to that rude interruption not with a look of royal disapproval, but a smile of understanding. “Precisely.” She responded curtly.
We stared at each other knowingly for a few moments, as I pondered the importance of my local guide into this alien reality. Thacea clearly had all the traits of someone who knew how to survive. She was smart, witty, she knew how things actually worked. She was a survivor, and she needed to be given her rank and the rampant discrimination she faced with her taint status.
I really am living a fucking fantasy epic aren’t I… I thought to myself. All those years of reading intense fantasy politics are finally going to be put to good use.
“There is a certain… danger with retrieving your lost luggage if you do wish to pursue it, Emma.” Thacea warned, her expression shifting to a dourness and severity that I hadn’t seen before. “The Academy prefers to play by its own house rules. There are victories that they will tolerate, and some they will not. They practice social warfare in a manner of back and forth escalation. A slight for a slight, a transgression for a transgression. Whatever you wish to win, you will have to lose in comparatively equal terms.” Thacea paused for a solid moment, as if pondering and considering what next to say.
“You need to know something before we proceed Emma. As a newrealmer, you may not be aware of how our society fundamentally operates. You need to understand that the Nexus, and by extension the Adjacent Realms, adheres strongly to the idea of saving face. One’s personal reputation, integrity, and honor, is all tied to this. I have reason to believe the loss of your luggage is intentional, and I believe that by pursuing it, you may incur further wrath than you already have.”
A wave of indignation filled me as I responded in kind, not so much frustrated at the princess but at the social institutions that underpinned everything here. “So what’s the danger in pursuing my lost luggage? Actually, scratch that, what the heck did I even do and whose wrath did I incur?”
“The binding ceremony.” Thacea answered promptly. “The fact that you not only resisted it, but caused an uproar within the faculty, is more than certain to have caused one or more of the staff to lose face. Even as we speak, I assume the Dean, the black-robed and blue robed professors to be in heated arguments over your resistance to it. It may not have been intentional, Emma, but you may have inadvertently caused a few of the higher ups to already lose footing amongst their own. This… loss of luggage as it stands, is a relatively minor price to pay given the humiliation and loss of face the faculty had to contend with in front of their own peers and the public.” Thacea finally removed her hand from my shoulder, taking a moment to address me with a deliberate austerity that reminded me of the Administrator's talks with her fellow higher ups. “It’s a warning, Emma. It’s a warning to accept this one loss, in restitution for the loss you’ve inflicted on the faculty. It is a token of peace, in a manner of speaking. If you leave it at this, then I can only assume that moving forward, they’ll have forgiven the whole debacle in the Grand Hall. The faculty will move on from this infraction of their unquestionable status, and you can move on with only a single article of luggage missing.” The princess seemed more at home now with this whole speech. This wasn’t just the skittish, submissive bird I’d seen in the Grand Hall. This was the mind of someone who had to survive the cutthroat world of court politics, and all of the nonsense it held.
I took a moment to gather myself as I assessed my options, and took a series of deep audible breaths in and out. “Alright.” I started. “Alright. I understand.” I continued, as I tried to wrack my head around this whole situation. “However, I have to disagree with you on a few particular points, Thacea.” I finally pushed back, garnering a look of questioning curiosity from the avian as she nodded for me to continue. “I don’t doubt your perspectives. You have invaluable insight into how things work over here, and I can’t thank you enough for that.” I gave the avian a slight bow in gratitude. “However, whilst your expertise may be in politics, mine is in the art of war. And at this point in time, an unconscionable threat has just begun with a clock that continues to tick down further and further toward a point of no return. Because this matter isn’t just a show of politics. It’s a palpable threat as the container in question holds technologies far beyond the capabilities of the Academy, and heck, perhaps the entire Nexus. We’re talking about the theft of technologies that would far outweigh any social restitution this may involve. As it stands, I cannot sit by and allow political acquiescence to trump strategic losses.” I explained in no uncertain terms.
“And what’s more…” I began to trail off, my heart once more beating out of my chest as I shook in place, debating whether it was worth it bringing someone else into this… but soon realizing that my chances were better with someone else with this level of insight into a place I had no intel on. “There’s a potential that if they try to open it, it might end up hurting a lot of people, Thacea.”
The avian’s expressions shifted dramatically upon this revelation, as she met my gaze with a single, plainly spoken question. “What do you mean?”
“The container… it… my people saw it fit to place a device within it. A device that has the ability to completely destroy all the contents inside. This device was designed in such a way that without my interference, it will activate within a set amount of time. In addition, should the container detect sufficient evidence of tampering, it also has the ability to activate this device. In normal circumstances, the container is capable of withstanding the destructive forces of this device. However, in the event the container’s structural integrity is compromised beyond a certain point, there is a possibility of the container failing and thus leading to unintended collateral damage to anything and anyone around it at the time of its activation.” I stated simply, succinctly, almost repeating verbatim what the logistics technicians had briefed me in preparation for this mission.
Thacea’s eyes once more sharpened, as she cocked her head, deep in whatever analytical thought she was busy tackling. It didn’t take long however before she’d reveal what was on her mind, and her response wasn’t what I was expecting. “Emma, if you’re worried about the Academy’s staff falling prey to a simple trap spell, then rest assured your concerns are unfounded. These are some of the most powerful, renowned, and accomplished magic users in the known Nexus. There shall be no losses aside from that of your communications artifice.” The princess announced resolutely, without a hint of fear or concern left in her voice. Her expressions shifted to that of a relieved sense of calm, complete with a reassuring smile.
“Thacea…” I spoke under an exasperated breath. “This isn’t something that you can just wish away using a spell or flick of a wand. There’s no dispelling spell or resistance magic or whatever that can get you out of this one. This is a bomb, Thacea. And no matter what these magic users do, there’s nothing that they can do to stop it.”