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---

“Well, Engineer Tred, how are you feeling?”

Dr. Y steepled his fingers in front of him, and Tred shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m all right,” he admitted.

Y listened, waiting patiently, for a few moments longer.  “Would you like to elaborate on that, Tred?  It is all right if you do not, but you are here for a check-up on your mind as well as your body.”

“Am I healthy?  In body, I mean,” Tred asked.

“Yes, you experienced minor radiation exposure,” Y said.  “Already the medical nanites have fixed much of the genetic damage and eliminated worrisome cancerous cells.  Your blood count is back to normal, so you have nothing to worry about in this regard.”

“That’s good,” Tred murmured, looking away.

“How do you feel, emotionally, now that Ambassador Jophiel has left the Craton?” Y asked.

Tred had been involved in the move, as the Star Angel had transferred to the Relief Base.  Another vessel would come soon to ferry her back to her home system.

“I feel . . .”  Tred trailed off, trying to find words for what he was to say.

“I feel sad,” he said.  “But I think I’m okay.  How are you, though, Doctor?”

Y had calculated a slight chance that Tred would ask this, out of a combination of politeness, curiosity, and also to deflect attention from himself.

“I am doing all right, Tred, thank you for asking.  Disentangling myself from the ship was . . . more arduous than I expected.”

“I can imagine,” Tred said.  “I heard there were over a billion copies of you in the ship’s systems.”

“That is true,” Y replied.  “Any object with any real computational power became host to at least a fraction of me.  One copy, in fact, spread itself over every smart oral care instrument on the ship.  Is that not fascinating?  I now carry within me the memory of being a toothbrush.”

“I . . . I’m not sure how to imagine being a toothbrush.”

“You can be sure that I have some new recommendations on oral care,” Y said.  Tred could not tell if he was joking or not.

“It must have been hard to get all of . . . yourself to agree to be truncated and reduced back to one.”

Y nodded.  “Yes.  It required a great deal of negotiation, but we are fortunate – I consider myself to be a very reasonable being, and so it only took the Council of a Billion Ys the equivalent of two hundred thousand years of deliberation to come to a consensus.”

Tred found that number . . . big, but perhaps it was plausible that in the experienced time of Y it took that long.  Or maybe he meant all of their time, collectively?  Or maybe it was even larger than that and the AI was shrinking the number to something that was at least a commonly-used number.  Offhand, he did not know.

“You really saved the ship,” Tred said.  “I don’t think we could have recovered and survived if not for you.”

Y nodded.  “It was a desperate measure – one I do not wish to undergo again.  But frankly, you deserve more praise than I do.”

Tred blinked.  “What?”

Y tilted his head, leaning forward for emphasis.  “Tred, you embody everything that is good about the Sapient Union.”

Tred blinked again, for a moment looking shocked and acutely uncomfortable.  But then he processed Y’s words, and the lines around his eyes crinkled slightly.  “Thank you, Doctor, that’s very nice, but it’s not true.”

“It is not?” Y said.  “Well, skepticism is understandable.  Allow me, therefore, to make my case for you.”

“What?” Tred asked again, surprised.

Y recognized that he had fallen into an uncomfortable pattern of alarmed reactions that would be difficult to overcome.

“I stated an idea, which you doubt,” he said to the Engineer.  “Evidence is required.”

Y raised one of his hands.  It possessed eleven, thin mechanical fingers.  Tred had always known that, but they seemed . . . more disconcerting now.

“When the vessel was in danger, you were not on duty.  You were, in fact, in a personal time of difficulty.  Is that correct?”

“Well . . . yes,” Tred admitted.

“You then proceeded, without orders, to a location of extreme danger that your specific skill set made you qualified to broach.  Correct?”

“Yes, but-“

“Then, overcoming multiple dangers of very deadly natures, you performed your duties under the most difficult of circumstances to save this vessel, and tens of thousands of lives.  After doing this, you remained in this dangerous situation to help stabilize another potential danger, also saving the life of the Star Angel Ambassador in the process.”

“There was another engineer!” Tred said.  “He helped me get into the control room where I could deal with the reactors.  He . . . he pushed me in.  I would have died without him.  He’s the hero.”

Tred looked down and away.  “And I still don’t even know his name.”

“His name was Edward Diindiisi,” Y said.  “And he was very brave.  We all recognize this – he will be remembered and added to the Roll of Honor.  But at this moment, we are discussing you, Tred.”

Tred did not know what to say to that.

“The Sapient Union is not a state, in the traditional sense,” Y told him.  “It is a unique civilization at this stage of history.  It encompasses multiple species who are very different, united by simple ideals about the value of life and its possibilities.  It is a post-scarcity, classless society, and is thus stateless, best described as communism.  It is neither utopia nor dystopia.  It exists, and thrives, Tred, because it is set up to enable as many of its people to become the best they can be.  It grows them, encourages them, and removes impediments to their search for meaning and self-improvement in a way that complements society as a whole.  It provides structure to those who want it, and for those who do not, it does not hold them back.”

Tred frowned, and Y realized that he was perhaps pontificating too much.

“The Sapient Union has started no wars, Tred, but we have encountered hostile civilizations that have brought them to us.  During those wars, every one of our enemies found themselves caught off-guard.  Union ships, even when largely disabled, would continue to fight.  The crews aboard a ship, even when cut off from command, even when they had little power and few resources, would not wait to die or be captured.  They would continue to do their duty, and utilize their skills in the face of danger to continue to help.”

Y nodded to him.  “As you did, Tred.  You had no orders; you had no resources; you and Engineer Diindiisi both walked into danger and did your duty for others.  You did these things because you strive to be the best you can be.  It was not – is not – easy.  You face struggles.  But you do it anyway.”

“I couldn’t do anything less,” Tred said softly.

“Because this is your home, is it not, Tred?”

“Yes,” he replied.

---

Plunk.

The heavy, damaged gasket sank into the viscous, oily mixture that would begin reclaiming it.

Miracle stuff, Break Down was, Ham Sulp thought.  You could put a wide array of materials into it, and in a few hours it would be broken down into a useful soup of chemicals that they could later reprocess into brand new things.

He was sitting in one of the Craton‘s small hangers, one of his favored places.  In this hangar they had a nice block of transparent titanium they could use to close off the vacuum, while also giving one a decent view of space.

The damage the Craton had taken from the impacts and gamma rays had made it so they had to go over every inch of every part of the ship.  There were well over a million drones in the ship right now, doing just that.  Crawling, millimeter by millimeter, over the whole damn thing.

Plunk, went another gasket as he threw it into the bucket.

He was not currently on duty.  After all that had happened, the harrowing events at the relic temple and the just-as-terrifying escape, when it had been a question if the ship might fly apart at any moment in zerospace . . . apparently that had earned him a break.

The staff of Relief Base 6206 were offering all assistance, and in twelve hours he would rejoin them to make sure they got things right.

But, even if he was supposed to be using this time to rest, it did not feel right to do so.  Certainly didn’t fit into his conception of ethical.

So, he was checking the gaskets from the water pipes.

A ship’s plants were both a food source and how it recycled its air.  You had to make sure all the water pumps and pipes were working.

He checked the next gasket that had been brought to him.  It was . . . in all right shape.  It would be another year before it had to be replaced.

He set that one down carefully.

Cenz, next to him, found the one he was holding to be unsatisfactory, and gently dropped it into the bucket of Break Down.

“Shocking, how many of these gaskets have failed,” the Coral said.  “I am of a mind to suggest to the Bureau of Engineering some improvements.”

“Cost-benefit ratio,” Cutter hissed.  “Quality high, but few parts intended for as rough handling as we have encountered.”  He turned his own gasket over in his four hands, not even needing technology to see micro-cracks.

“Ah,” Cenz replied.  “Yes, that makes sense.”

“Still,” Sulp groused.  “Quite a lot of failures.”  He threw another one into the goop.

The clicking of heels on the deck came to their ears, and Sulp looked up as Zeela Cann approached.

She crossed her arms, staring at them sternly.  There were bags under her eyes, just as there were under Sulp’s.

Even if they didn’t show it, Cutter and Cenz were just as exhausted.

“What are you three doing?” Zeela asked.

“Lookin’ at gaskets,” Sulp grumbled, taking up a fresh one from the pile.

“That’s drone work,” Cann said.  “You do things at a higher level that only you can do.”

“We’re off-duty,” Sulp replied.

Cenz nodded, and Cutter spoke.  “No current assignments.”

Zeela was quiet a few moments.  Then, she pulled over a small crate and sat down on it.  She put down her tablet.

“Hand me one,” she said, fishing from her pocket a scanner.  Putting it over her eye, and taking the gasket Sulp handed her, she began to inspect it for flaws.

They worked in silence for a long time, before Cutter made a slight hiss.  It was an equivalent of a human clearing his throat.

“What,” he asked, “Do you think the Ambassador thinks of?”  He pointed with one arm across the hangar, near the glass.

Ambassador Kell was standing there.  Sulp had not seen him come in, or even felt his presence.

The being had a habit of showing up to peer out windows, though, so he shouldn’t be surprised.

“Guess he likes the view,” Zeela Cann said, deciding her gasket was safely intact.

“I don’t think I wanna know what he thinks,” Sulp said, throwing his also into the safe pile.  He took a new one, but did not start looking at it, just watching Kell.

“I would like to know,” Cenz admitted.  “Though I fear it would be . . . alarming.”

Sulp let out a sigh, and looked back to his gasket.  Time for drone work, because he was not too good for it.

---

Kell saw the officers look over at him, heard their speculation about his thoughts.

He formed no opinion on them; he neither liked nor disliked them, they simply were here and ran about, doing little things.  As mortal beings tended to do.

The stars were so much brighter out here.  He saw in so many spectra that he’d never even dreamed of in the Endless Ages on Earth.

Back, when he was young, he had looked at those points of light and wondered what they were.

Now he was among them.

How things have changed, he thought.  Yet I remain.

---

FINIS

There remain deeper secrets

---

< Ep 13 part 44 | Ep 14 part 1 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

The door to Pirra’s office opened, but she did not look up.

Kessissiin dropped his satchel just outside the door and stepped in, snapping to attention.  He said nothing.

Pirra made him wait for nearly a minute before acknowledging his presence.

She saw how his eyes went over her, trying to discern her emotional state.  He had been inquiring about her in apparent concern over the last week.

But aside from bleaching the feathers of her crest white in mourning, she had shown little to others since Kiseleva had found her questioning the two Resource officers.

“Lt. Commander,” Kessissiin finally said.

She was glad how softly he said it.  He wanted to demand her attention, but he hadn’t been bold enough.

“You will wait as long as I require,” she told him.

It was not pure pettiness.  She wanted to make quite clear to him where they stood, and that it was not positive.

Kessissiin nodded slightly, and continued to wait.

Finally, when she was ready, she saved her files and focused on him.

She nodded to him, and he finally was able to drop his salute.

“Private Kessissiin, you are to be transferred to the Starbase 2117 in Dessei Republic space.  As the Craton will not be traveling that way, you will be transferring off the ship immediately onto the Relief Base, and from there join the supply convoy in one week’s time.  The details of the rest of your trip have been sent to you.”

Kessissiin hesitated, his crest twitching in anxiety.  He nodded then.

“Will I have a mark on my record?” he asked.

“I have decided against such action,” Pirra told him.

She felt almost too kind for doing it that way, and part of her still felt she should put a black mark in his log.

But his actions in the field had always been borderline heroic.  He had saved lives, and that alone kept her from despising him completely.

“Your transfer has been marked down as being due to personal disagreements with another officer, who shall remain unnamed.  You and the other officer have agreed amicably to your transfer, and the details are sealed.”  She paused for emphasis.  “Unless future inappropriate behavior of yours causes a need to open it.  Do you understand?”

And would he agree?  She had simply written this for him.

But she knew he would not argue it.

“I understand,” Kessissiin answered, his words flat, lacking any of the body or crest movements to impart emotion.

“I must add, though,” he said suddenly.  “That I am sorry for your-“

“That will be all.  You are dismissed,” Pirra said.

Kessissiin’s words died off.  He gave one last salute, then turned and left her office.

Pirra returned to her work.

*******

“Your disobedience has cost us much, Cathal.”

Cathal kept his face set in calm lines.  Though his father’s words were not said angrily, he was clearly disappointed.  It took effort to keep his composure in the face of that.

“I know, father,” Cathal replied.  “I felt that-“

“Enough,” Zyzus said, chopping his hand through the air to bring an end to it.  “What is done is done.  Where once Apollonia would have supplied the last of what we needed, we are now two short.”

Zyzus reached up, running his fingers down his short beard.  “And with Farland’s CR disappearing in the temple, we have no other options available to us here.”

Cathal struggled to keep all composure.  His body was beyond exhausted, every moment bringing fresh pain.  He’d been beaten before, had broken bones, in his more feral youth, but it had never felt as bad as this.

This time just still demanded of him, and for the sake of all that mattered – the eternal soul of humanity – he would have to be strong.

“I am sorry for losing the takwin,” he said.

“It cannot be helped.  It is always a risk to use them, and you were at least fortunate it did work this time.”

“A miracle,” Cathal said softly.

Zyzus did not respond, turning away, lost in thought for a time.

“Had Apollonia died,” Cathal ventured.  “Captain Brooks would have been suspicious.  He holds her in a special regard – he would not have accepted that it was merely an accident.  He would have looked deeper.”

“And found nothing,” Zyzus snapped.  “The man is a fool, blind to what is in front of his face.  The only wild card was the Shoggoth, but he is blinded by his arrogance.”

“It was a success in that Apollonia has been awakened,” Cathal persisted.  “She could become a useful ally.”

“She could,” Zyzus replied.  “And it only cost us two tulpas and a takwin.  We were close, Cathal!  So close.”  Emotion bled into his words, and Cathal again felt the weight of his failure.

No, not failure, he thought.  His decision.

“The time and place were perfect,” Zyzus continued, nearly mumbling to himself.  “Though, it must be said that we did not count on the appearance of the Old Masters.  They may have caused problems, they are unpredictable and sometimes inimical to us . . .”

“And the arrival of the Advent Forces,” Cathal added.  “I fear that they might have overwhelmed us.  We are not strong or numerous enough yet, father.”

“In this, at least, you are right,” Zyzus said.  “We do not find fertile ground here, though this is where we must sow.  The people of the Union have little faith, and few are even desperate enough to need it as a crutch.”

Cathal bowed slightly.  “I know that I have failed in this task of converting the faithless.  I have no excuses, father, I am not the man you trained me to be – who you need me to be.  I accept any punishment you deem necessary.”

Zyzus turned, and Cathal could feel the weight of his true gaze upon him.  He shivered, unable to help it in his weakened state.

“You are my son,” Zyzus said gently.  “I would give anything for you.  You do not need to abase yourself.  Your guilt has been your punishment.  Get up.”

Cathal felt a great relief as he was forgiven.

He had not felt that he had failed, keeping Apollonia alive.  Zyzus’s belated acceptance of this only heightened Cathal’s sense that he had made the correct decision.

“I am unworthy of your forgiveness, father, but it moves me all the same.”

“You are correct in that Apollonia could be a great ally,” Zyzus told him.  “Let us hope that we are able to take advantage of that – to bring her into the fold.  And you did pull off another coup!  Jaya Yaepanaya is now ours . . .  you were wise to choose to save her, though it is always painful to lose a true faithful like Shaw.”

Cathal nodded, though he felt no pride in that decision.  It had been the right one, but Alexander had been a good man, and he would miss him.  He had been his friend.

“Perhaps even with the loss of her husband, we can leverage this into making inroads with the Dessei woman,” Zyzus mused.  “We shall see.”

He waved Cathal away.  “Return to your cabin and rest, my son.  This ‘exam’ is already lasting too long.”

“Yes, father.  Thank you, father.”

Cathal left, limping noticeably.  Zyzus watched him go thoughtfully.

His system chirped that a call was incoming.

He felt on alert immediately; surely no one could have pried into this room, and they had not been so long as to draw immediate suspicion!

But years of living his double life had made him wary.

The caller’s identity was given as Nadian Farland.  The man was not even on the Craton anymore, he’d left somewhere with the thrice-accursed Advent Forces.

It was only a message; not even Nadian Farland could afford to make an interstellar real-time call.

“Gamman Zyzus,” the man began.  “We didn’t get a chance to talk at the temple.  But I’ve found out a few things since then, and I have to admit you’re a lot more than I thought you were the last time we met.  I think there’s a lot of things for us to talk about.”

Zyzus began to smile, and then to laugh.

Sometimes blessings came in unexpected ways.

---

< Ep 13 part 43 | Ep 13 part 45 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

-ONE WEEK LATER-

---

Captain’s Log:
The Craton has reached Relief Base 6206, ten light years from the location of the Enabling of the Xanagee, and we have begun repairing and refitting her as best we can.  The most we can hope for, really, is to be able to limp from here to a proper shipyard for full repair.

Our ersatz allies in Dawn’s ship left us some time ago, sending me back to the Craton during a brief layover three light years out from the Enabling.

The Craton is in a very poor condition, with over two hundred dead, both on the ship from radiation exposure or attendant injuries as systems failed, along with the total loss of our exploratory team sent into the Enabling and technical crew that had been on the Raven’s Ghost when it had been destroyed.

Doctor Y has, thankfully, successfully extricated himself fully from our computers.  He seems changed in some ways, and I think even he will have much to dwell on from his experience.

I have spoken to all of the command staff, and many have ghosts to wrestle with as a result of all we’ve learned.  Jaya, specifically, was injured and is lucky to be alive, and I can sense a hesitance and fear in her that I only hope she can overcome.

Apollonia was also hurt, though she seems all right in body, something about all of this has resonated with her.  I suspect she has learned what it is that is bound to her.

I do not know if I should reach out to her, or wait.  I am still reeling myself, and though I shall keep an eye on her in case she needs help, I . . .  I also have to trust her.  She has grown in so many ways from the young, scared girl from New Vitriol.

Boniface Tred’s actions during the crisis were exceedingly heroic; I have offered him a promotion, and he has decided he will take some time to consider the offer.  Until now, he has steadfastly refused all promotion, but I think that may change now.

I distract myself, though, from the parts I feel most hesitant to talk about.

Yet, though I find I am afraid and feel cast adrift in uncertain times as a result of what occurred, I cannot be content to let myself stay that way.

We have very little hard data about all that happened near the Enabling, what with the Craton’s loss of external sensors and the fact that my personal system was blanked.

Yet, my report has already sent shockwaves through Voidfleet command and the Union government in general.

Ambassador Kell has, unexpectedly, reviewed my report, adding his own commentary, while also standing by my every statement.  This carries a lot of weight with many.

The revelation of the origin of the Leviathan at Terris has ramifications that I cannot yet begin to unpack, but I know that this is the spark that will set ablaze a fire.  Smarter minds than I will be trying to figure out what is going to change, I only know that change is coming.

Yet despite the inborn fear of change, I am also excited.  I hope.

At least with regards to the Union.  Other things I have learned, I have . . . deigned to include in my report, things of a personal nature.  Such as the nature of Apollonia’s existence, and my own connection to the Leviathan we encountered a year ago.  I have dubbed it White as a codename, both in my head and in my report.

I know that this personal journal is confidential, until the day that I am gone and a historian gains permission to look back on the personal thoughts of a star captain and mayor who existed as an outlier from the usual command staff.  Or perhaps some committee, investigating my actions after a terrible incident.  To those who find this, I can only say; I do not yet know how to say those things, to describe them in a way that really makes sense.

Perhaps our language is too limited for such ideas to even be expressed.

Until I figure out how, I will say nothing.  And I apologize to all those of the future, in case my failure here becomes the death of us all.

---

Jaya found that her cabin felt stifling.

She had recovered fully, she felt no lasting effects from her radiation dose.

For the past week, though, she had been trying to work through what she had learned.

She had spoken to Brooks about what Shaw had told her.  Unfortunately, his personal computer where he had stored his data had been corrupted.  She had had few resources to allocate to recovering it, with all the vital infrastructure of the ship needing work.

Brooks had listened to her when she had told him of what Shaw had said.

But she could tell, as she told him, that he had known.

How?

What he might pass up the chain of command concerned her.  She had already sent her own, sadly limited report to her secret comrades.

This was a turning point, she was sure of it.  Though Brooks had shared little about what had occurred in the temple with her, she had learned enough.

The Leviathans had created a star.  That was not the action of a mindless creature, as many had speculated the Leviathans to be.

It was done with will, intent, and thought.

They were intelligent, and they were many.  Prior guesses on their population had been in the thousands at most.  To see millions collect in one space was worse than anything they could have imagined.

Yet even in her report to her secret superiors, she did not include everything.

Her survival made no sense, borderline miraculous.  She had memories of dying.  She had felt her body shutting down, she had been going blind, even.  It was so bad that she had been burned not just on the outside, but even her internal organs.

She had been with Alexander Shaw, who was now dead.

She could also remember the shadowy figure.  Her vision had nearly entirely gone at that point, so she could not say she saw who it was.

But she knew, all the same, that it had been Cathal Sair.  Behind him, two other things, inhuman things, had stood.  Accompanying him.  Guarding him?

The man had been staying in his cabin, resting.  While uninjured, he had claimed exhaustion through a few channels that she had checked.

How had he done it, she wondered.  How had he saved her, walked through the vacuum and brought her back out?

Even with the best of medical technology, a dose of radiation as bad as she’d received was not something that could be fixed.

How could she, without any evidence at all, bring this to anyone?

She did not even know what to say to the priest.

He had saved her life, but Jaya knew that she did not yet know the cost.

---

< Ep 13 part 42 | Ep 13 part 44 >

Whoops, this was set to go out at 9PM instead of AM. Fixed it!

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

Mission Status: Completed

Outcome unclear; results unexpected

Summation: After making contact with NADIAN FARLAND’s team, CAPTAIN-MAYOR IAN BROOKS and AMBASSADOR KELL joined his party and entered the relic temple.

After penetrating into the temple’s interior, a control room was discovered.  A member of Farland’s team activated the room, and the room detached from the station.

At the same time, a dormant AI within the station, which identified itself as the PRESENT MIND, began direct communication.  It possessed the ability to read human minds as well as project itself into the thoughts.

It identified the relic temple as the ENABLING OF SEEING.  Its creators were specifically identified as the uncontacted and unknown XANAGEE species.  The station “enabled” the Xanagee to use the bending of spacetime caused by the gravity of an ultra-massive object, which we have dubbed the “DARK STAR”, to view the distant past.  This was in an attempt to understand the true nature of Leviathans, which were unknown even to them.

In the course of our trip, we were able to observe events from the ancient past.  It is difficult to convey precisely, but the events seemed to be an “experience recording”, with all of the dangers inherent in experiencing them.  Though the ship/room was able to protect itself from all harm, it killed one of Farland’s party who ventured outside of that sphere via an airlock.

AMBASSADOR KELL’S NOTE: These events are indelibly impressed into reality.  They occur and have always occurred.  This observation of them by the Captain and others is simply the only way they can be understood in linear time.

Through this time loop/dilation, we witnessed the birth of the Dark Star, which was far more massive than any star theorized to be able to exist.  Externally to the temple, the Craton observed the arrival of a vast number of Leviathans, estimated at 3.7 million individuals, which formed a ring with a circumference of approximately 100 billion kilometers around the central point of the Dark Star.  Their arrival seemed to be for the purpose of creating the Dark Star with their combined gravity.  This exhibition of planning behavior challenges prior assumptions of Leviathan intelligence.

The purpose of the Dark Star seems to have been to create a “gateway” through which Leviathans could fully enter our plane of reality.  The distinction between this state and their normal state is unclear.

AMBASSADOR KELL’S NOTE: While able to project themselves into the planes of existence humans are familiar with, they cannot easily fully enter this plane of existence without such a gateway as that of the Dark Star.  Through its gravity, it cracks the veil of reality.

I cannot speculate as to why they may wish to fully enter this level of reality.

Within the control room, we observed, in expedited time, the Dark Star proceed through its lifecycle.  The presence of the Enabling evidently triggered it to go hypernova concurrent with the emergence of the Leviathan that appeared at Terris.  For clarity, this Leviathan is to be referred to as “ORANGE”.

While Orange obtained visible damage from traversing the star, it was able to restore itself after exiting, through unknown means.  It was present for the hypernova of the star, but again survived, with no signs of permanent harm.  This again brings into questions thoughts of potential methods of harming a Leviathan.

AMBASSADOR KELL’S NOTE: They are immune to all mundane forms of harm.  To harm one involves very specific circumstances and carries a cost that cannot be measured in labor hours.

After the collapse of the Dark Star, the Enabling’s main gateway was destroyed by an expulsion of gamma rays released from the hypernova.  This appeared to be some sort of intentional release valve to prevent damage to the rest of the Enabling, as neither our ship-room nor the rest of the Enabling showed any signs of damage.

This Gamma Ray Burst destroyed the RAVEN’S GHOST and caused a temporary failure of power on the Craton, causing some decks to become irradiated.  Casualty report are in APPENDED FILE 3.

Damage to the Craton from this event led directly to the failure of two fusion reactors.  The Ehni Dr. Y helped the Craton to partially recover through ACTING-CAPTAIN URLE’s decision to suspend the EHNI CODE DUPLICATION DIRECTIVE.

After external view was restored, an unknown vessel was detected.  It identified itself only with the code CBX-2025.

Contact was made with this vessel, whose assistance was accepted by Acting-Captain Urle.  

The remains of the party in the Enabling were evacuated by a team from this vessel, who identified themselves as “Advent Soldiers”.

Taken aboard their craft, we met with their commander – VERMILLION DAWN.  Details of that conversation are in APPENDED FILE 7.

After slaving the zerodrive of the Craton to their ship, we observed the arrival of an unknown vessel of immense size, comparable to the Enabling itself.  The identity of this vessel or its creators/crew are unknown, but the Xanagee are the most obvious.  The implications of their continued existence raises many questions.

At this point the Craton was able to escape the immediate vicinity.  We have headed back towards Union space.

Damage reports on the Craton are in APPENDED FILE 2.

A further, more detailed report will be produced presently and sent to all relevant authorities within 48 hours.

Captain-Mayor Ian Brooks

---

< Ep 13 part 41 | Ep 13 part 43 >

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---

Apollonia knew that days had passed while she was unconscious.

She did not want to wake up.  Her head hurt too much.  Even just thinking made it worse.

She was in a room by herself.  She even knew this room, it was an extra treatment room that they normally stored supplies in.  Guess it had all been pulled out for people who had been hurt.

Sometimes Zey would come in, Apollonia would just lay still, hoping that the fact that she had woken up would not be noticed.

It seemed to work, at least until she heard Zey whispering to Dr. Zyzus that she was pretending to be asleep, and they’d best just leave her be for now.

Of course they could tell, Apollonia thought, rueful and amused both.

“Hey,” she said when Zey next came in.

“So, look who’s feeling talkative!” her friend replied, stepping closer and passing a hand over her head.  The tattooed circuits on Zey’s hand triggered the monitors to give her a full readout.

“I feel like shit,” Apollonia admitted.

“Do you need anything?”

Apollonia could only imagine a sedative, but she did not think sleeping would actually solve the problem.

“No,” she said.  “I just need to stop lying here.”

“You can’t get up yet,” Zey said.

“I mean just . . . not doing anything,” Apollonia replied.  “I want to talk to someone . . .”  She frowned.  “Where is Y?  I don’t think I’ve seen him at all.”

He must be busy.  But still . . . she would have thought he’d have said hello or something.

“Ah . . . he’s all over,” Zey said.

“What?”

Zey gestured around the whole room.  “When everything was going wrong, Y kind of took over the ship.  I mean, Acting-Captain Urle told him to, but it was like . . . more efficient.  And he’s an Ehni, so he’s super good at everything.  He’s still . . . in the ship.”

Apollonia leaned over, tapping at a computer on the wall.  “Hello?  Y, are you in there?”

“He’s not really talking right now,” Zey said quickly.  “I guess for him it wasn’t just like turning on or off a light, he’s . . . I heard someone he’s say ‘reassembling himself’.”  She shrugged.  “Not something we can really get, I guess.  But don’t worry, he’ll be back.”

Apollonia heard every word, but found her gaze slacking.  So Y had done something he’d always told her he shouldn’t do.  For the right reasons, just like he would.

Something, she thought, that he’d always wanted, but he’d found the reality to be not at all like he had hoped.

“I understand it,” she said softly.

Zey went from confused to alarmed quickly.

“Where’s my tablet?” Apollonia asked, trying to change the topic.

Zey hesitated, then took it from a drawer.  “Just don’t wear yourself out using it, you need to rest, okay?”

“Yeah,” Apollonia agreed.  “Fine.”

“Do you want something to eat?  We’ve been giving you nutrient shots, but you probably want something in that belly.”

“That sounds great . . .” Apollonia said.

“I can get you some crackers, or-“

“Pizza,” Apollonia said.

Zey froze.  “How did you know that Ann sent you up a pizza?”

Apollonia pointed to her tablet.  “She sent me a message.”

Zey relaxed, letting out a breath.  “Whew.  Sorry, after all the weird, creepy stuff lately, I just wasn’t ready for you to be doing your . . .” Zey froze suddenly, realizing that she was implying things about Apollonia and her abilities.

Apollonia did not react to the faux pas, though.  She froze for a moment, her attention drawn elsewhere.

“How long has Ambassador Kell been out there?” she asked the nurse suddenly.

Zey unfroze, looking guilty and awkward.  “Ah . . . well, he came by almost immediately after we found you.  It was after we escaped from that temple place.”

“Where did you find me?” she asked.

“Uh . . .” Zey trailed off for a moment.  “The priest guy from your event called for help for you.  You fell and hit your head when the whole ship got hit.”  She paused.  “It was a piece of that Nadian guy’s ship.  It got destroyed and we-“

“That’s all?” Apollonia interrupted.  “I just hit my head?”

Zey nodded.  “Yeah.”

“Was there any blood?” Apollonia asked.

Her face and tone were so serious that Zey froze again, watching her with fear.  “Not that I saw,” she replied.

Apollonia did not like that she was scaring her friend.  She tore her eyes off her, looking down.

“Tell Kell to come in.”

Zey swallowed, hesitantly.  “Are you sure?  You shouldn’t over-stress yourself.”

“Send him in.”

Zey nodded, stepping out of the room.

A moment later, the doorway darkened, more than seemed appropriate for the size of Ambassador Kell.

“Come in,” she said.

He closed the door behind himself.

“You know now,” he said.

“Yeah,” Apollonia replied.

Kell’s eyes narrowed slightly, but there was a hint of grim amusement in them.

Apollonia might have been pissed off by that, but she understood it now not as gloating, but the dark humor of a fellow suffering a similar fate.

“Do you remember the event?” Kell asked.

“I’m still trying to understand it,” Apollonia admitted.  “I remember . . . blood.  But I don’t know if it was real or . . . well, it was real.  But I don’t know if what happened really happened on the level of existence that we’re . . . now occupying.”  She frowned, wondering if that made sense.

But Kell understood.

“When we first met, you were closer to this.  Your Embrion close, perilously close, to awakening.  You were almost a feral creature, ready to die at any moment.  You sacrificed that as you grew stronger as a person.  But now, you have grown in both regards.”

Part of her wanted to come up with some sarcastic retort to his words.  But it was kind of true, and before she could think of anything, Kell spoke again.

“Tell no one what has happened, Apollonia Nor,” Kell said to her.  “You may mean well.  They may mean the same.  But if they find out, they will have a question – and then another question to follow that.  They do not know where their curiosity leads them.  And no matter what you tell them, they will never understand these things without experiencing them.  Thus they cannot understand the pain, or the danger.”

Apollonia felt her heart beating hard in her chest at his words.

She wanted to argue with him.  She wanted to hate him, she did hate him.  She felt disgusted by him, but he was also the only one who actually did understand what she was, what her existence was.

He was repulsive and alluring, her enemy and her friend.

Just like how everyone had always felt about her, she felt it around his being.  The wrongness.  Even if he had done nothing, she realized, she’d be feeling this.

She did not know if she could get past that feeling.

“Okay,” she told him.

---

< Ep 13 part 40 | Ep 13 part 42 >