Chapter Fourteen: The Forgotten


July 25, 2016. BAINE Headquarters.

Director Mills had gone through this routine numerous times before, each more casually than the last. The single press of a button could connect him with possibly the most important man in the country, something that had hardly ever crossed his mind before. But between what he knew now, and the crisis of last year, he found himself reluctant to do so this time. Shaking off the hesitation, Mills turned around to face the console. It was right there on the screen; he pushed the button, and the call went through to the White House.

It was picked up far faster than he expected. Further unexpected was the one who answered it: rather than one of his aides, the face of his old friend himself appeared on the screen. "Mr. President, hello," Mills said, his surprise betraying his grave expression momentarily. "I, er…it's nice to see you again." If he hadn't known better, he would have assumed he knew he would be calling.

The suited man on the other end of the call was not exactly young, but was still younger than one would expect from a politician, especially one of his position. His rat's nest of hair, which was such despite a clear effort to comb it, contrasted with his finely-pressed suit. "Ah, there's no need for that "Mr. President" stuff from you, Morgan!" he said, in good spirits. "Always business with you, isn't it? Just Jeremy is fine!"

"Yes, of course," replied the Director. "And speaking of business, I'm afraid I have a rather urgent reason for contacting you, so I'll cut straight to the point, if I may."

Jeremy, still chipper, lay back in his chair. "Sure, go ahead. What's on your mind?"

Quite a lot of things were on Mills' mind right now, but he had figured days before that he would have to keep this short and simple. "Do you remember how several months ago, I informed you that BAINE had located a threat? One that all evidence suggested originated from beyond this world?"

"Yes, of course I remember. Why?" Jeremy's calm smile changed to a look of concern. "I thought you said you had it handled."

"I know. I did." Mills looked away. "And we did, at least for a time. But recently…something's come up. Something that seems to indicate that this threat is beyond the scope of what BAINE can handle alone."

Jeremy considered this. "I see," he said quietly. "So that's why you called, then?" He took a moment to compose himself before continuing. "So, how bad are we talking here? On par with SEEN, or the Children? Or is it more of a Cluster situation?"

"I… Leaning towards the latter," Mills responded. "If our intel is reliable, we're looking at an extraterrestrial species looking to cause an extinction-level event, with more than enough resources to accomplish this."

Jeremy took even longer to respond this time. "What exactly do you need from me?"

"I'd ask for specifics, but…anything and everything," said Mills. "We are expecting a cataclysmic superweapon supported by likely a substantial invasion force, so we'll need supplies, armaments, nuclear weapons, defense satellites, preferably assistance from the Army and Air Force–"

"I-I have to stop you right there," Jeremy interrupted. "You're talking about declaring war on an enemy that officially doesn't even exist. And even if you did give me more intel on these aliens, how exactly would that look? America gearing up for a conflict that other nations can't even see? Red flags would be going up all over the world."

"Mr. Pre–Jeremy, I can appreciate your concerns, but this is a matter that affects the entire world," Mills urged. "BAINE will be at the forefront, so any international concerns can be–er, Jeremy?"

The president had turned away for a moment to discuss something with one of his aides. "Sorry, I heard you," he said, turning back. "But this isn't only about other countries; it's also about our own. The whole reason BAINE works as well as it does is because it stays out of political affairs, and vice versa. If this becomes an international problem, people with agendas will try and take control of the situation, not to mention the global panic and unrest that it could cause. BAINE takes care of things from the shadows. You handled the Cluster without issue, right?"

"Barely" is what Mills wanted to say. Instead, he said "Technically, that was the Crystal Gems' doing. All we did was fend off the Children of Homeworld."

He didn't notice the twitch in Jeremy's eye. "If the Gems could handle the Cluster, then I'm sure this little invasion will be no problem for them," he said. "Not to deflect, but couldn't you get them to help?"

"I could certainly try, but…" Mills was quiet for a second. "Nevermind, it's nothing. But between Homeworld's return, and Jasper still at large, I fear they have enough on their plate at the moment. Not to mention dealing with young Steven."

Jeremy nodded. "Well, if it really is the end of the world like you said, I'm sure they wouldn't mind helping out. But as for me, my hands are tied. I can send you some supplies, but other than that, I'm afraid you'll have to do this without government aid."

"Is that all?" asked Mills, growing more and more exasperated. "The world is about to end, and all you can do is send us more guns? As I said, this is a matter that affects the entire world, our entire species! The least you could do is give us authorization to use nuclear armaments–"

"I told you already, no nukes!" Jeremy was becoming heated as well. "As I said, I'm not going to war against an enemy I know literally nothing about! And what do you know about them, Morgan? What exactly has your insider told you about them? Are you even sure he isn't leading you on?"

"I…never said we had an insider," Mills said.

"Of course you have an insider! How else would you know so much about these aliens!?" Jeremy was getting close to leaping up from his chair, but took a few deep breaths. "Unless an all-out attack is launched on US soil, there's nothing I can do. No nukes, no military aid, and certainly no letting the public know."

One of his aides spoke from offscreen. "President Rowsdower, the delegates are here."

Jeremy sighed. "I'm sorry, Morgan. I really am. I wish you luck, if it's any consolation. Protect the world, just as BAINE always has."

With that, the president ended their call. Moments before the feed cut, Mills caught a brief flash of…something crossing his face. Was it sorrow? No, more likely it was disappointment. With his head in his hands, the Director prepared to break the news to the rest of BAINE. They were on their own.


The process of examining Valdain's inner workings was a meticulous and delicate one. To not only determine the connections and purposes of machinery that humankind had never seen before now, let alone doing so without irreparably damaging the whole system, was a task that only the calmest and most patient hands in BAINE could be trusted with. Luckily for everyone, then, that Ichigo was only asking questions rather than participating.

"I'm sorry, it's just…this whole thing kinda came outta left field," he said, as he paced the length of the workspace. "So, you and your people, the Koh'i'Noor, used to be organic, but now you have robotic bodies? And you created them Gems, who are kinda like robots themselves? And they're also the reason you guys have to be robots in the first place?"

It wasn't that Valdain was irritated with Ichigo; in fact, he was quite willing to share about his kind's past. It was just this was a bit hard to do when you were stuck full of wires and cables examining your insides. "Essentially, yes, this is the case," he answered. "Gemkind is the result of hundreds of years of technological brilliance from numerous brilliant minds. Of course, when you have mechanical servants with the capability of thinking for themselves…conflict is inevitable. The resulting war rendered us nomadic, our planet, Noor, rendered uninhabitable."

"Noor is Homeworld, then?" Gina stood nearby, monitoring the results of Valdain's scan. "What I don't get is why, if you guys were so advanced, you couldn't have made some more impressive bodies for yourselves. Not that these ones are bad, far from it–despite the similarity to human tech, it's still centuries beyond anything we have today. But it's still centuries behind what the Gems have. Any reason for that?"

"Ah, that part is simple," said Valdain. "After the war, Primax Teptromina grew distrustful of crystal-based tech, and he was far from the only one. We now use it only minimally, to prevent a similar situation. Although our minds are stored in similar crystalline structures, our remote bodies are based around older models. And while easy to manufacture, this results in them being relatively fragile."

"Now…hold on, let me wrap my head around this," Ichigo said. "This body right here, you, it isn't really you? You're just…"

"...Controlling it from the Oculus, correct," Valdain replied. "With no way to bolster our numbers any longer, any losses we suffered from then on would have been irreplaceable. This way, any of us who are destroyed in combat can simply be downloaded into a new body."

Gina stared down at the data appearing on the monitor. "Huh. That explains why there isn't really any sort of CPU or anything in here…"

"That's all fine and good, but what exactly does that mean for you?" asked Rhodes. "Couldn't this Teptromina guy just yank you out of this body once he learns you betrayed him?"

Valdain shook his head. "No need to worry about that, Mr. Rhodes. I considered all the possibilities before I left: between overseeing the war effort and keeping the Oculus itself running, Teptromina has far too much to worry about to be bothered with one of his soldiers out of billions going rogue. And that assumes he even learns about it at all, as I have my reasons to suspect that Alkaria will be hesitant to tell him."

"Speaking of Alkaria, even if we do stop her from destroying Earth, what's to stop her from coming back and trying again?" asked Ichigo. "I mean, she can basically respawn like a video game and try again."

The proceeding silence from Valdain did little to reassure his new comrades. "I must admit…I have not gotten that far in my planning. I assumed that I would be able to get her to see reason with your help. I suppose we could capture her body so that she has no way to contact the Primax…"

"And all that's assuming we can stop her even once," Gina said grimly. Nobody deemed a response necessary, looking around the room awkwardly. "But enough about that for now! The diagnostics are finished."

Rhodes walked up behind her to take a look. "Well, I'm no expert in Koh'i'Noor robotics, but it doesn't look like you're hiding any weapons. Nothing that could cause a self-destruct, either. Alright, it is my expert opinion that you're free to walk about the facility, Val!"

"I thank you, but it really isn't necessary if you're uncomfortable with my presence," he said. "I understand if some may be hesitant to give me free reign of your headquarters."

"Oh, he never said free reign," Gina told him. "You can go pretty much anywhere, just so long as you have a chaperone with you."

"I would have it no other way," Valdain said. "And I assume that is your job?" he asked Bridge, who had been watching the procedure from a nearby seat.

"If I must," he answered.

"Hey, speaking of, come look at this," Gina said, with Rhodes coming closer. She zoomed in on the diagram of Valdain, into a cavity within his chest. "Does any of this look familiar to you?"

"...I mean, from this angle it kinda looks like schematics for an industrial lawnmower," Rhodes answered.

"No, not the shape, I mean the composition!" said Gina. "Here, look closer. The lattice structures lining the pocket, what do they remind you of?"

Rhodes did so, intently examining Valdain's inner workings. "They almost look like…wait a minute, I've seen this before…a warp pad! These are practically identical to a warp pad's composition!"

"Of course–the crystals are how we are able to stay connected with our minds even over light years of distance," Valdain explained. "They're capable of not only converting matter into ansibles and back, but doing the same to signals."

Rhodes and Gina stared at this thoughtfully, before locking eyes. "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" the latter asked.

"You mean about ways we can use this to our advantage?" he replied. "Way ahead of you!"

"And speaking of crystals," Ichigo said, "...okay, there's really no connection, but I wanted to ask, what did you guys look like before you put your brains in a computer? Were you bipedal like your robot selves, or did you have more of an arthropod, cephalopod thing going on?"

Bridge chided him before Valdain was able to answer. "Ichigo, stop harassing the alien."

The sound of the door sliding open signaled that they had a visitor. Emett walked in, looking around before finding Daniel. "I want to talk to him," he said suddenly.

"Er…over here," Valdain said with a small wave. "Anything I can help you with, Mr….de Santis, wasn't it?"

"No, I…" Emett cleared his throat, starting over. "Captain Bridge, can I speak to you for a moment?"

"I suppose so," Daniel said, confused. He stood up, following the pilot out of the room as the others wondered what he wanted.

Emett made sure the door was closed behind them, and that nobody else was nearby, before speaking. "I understand you have something of a…special relationship with the Radiant One. In any case, you're just about the only one he'll speak to."

"'Speak' is a bit of a strong word," Daniel said. This subject was already setting off alarm bells in his head. "He does indeed say words, sometimes in response to my words. But he rarely says anything of interest to our mission. Are you sure talking to him is the best idea?"

"Whether or not it's a good idea, I want to try," Emett replied. "Captain Bridge, there are now no less than three alien species with interest in the Earth. One of them, the one he worships, was made by another. Not to mention, you said he knew about the Xevellans, didn't he? Who knows what else he could be hiding?"

Daniel was still hesitant. "I'm sure he does. But you should know how shifty he is by now. Who's to say he won't just tell us what we want to hear, what gets him closer to escaping and reuniting with his little cult?"

Emett's response was blunt, but nonetheless convincing. "The world might end soon. And even if he doesn't care, isn't it worth a shot?"

"I…"

"Both of our teams are in danger, Daniel. Don't tell me you haven't gone to him for advice once or twice before?"

After a long silence, Daniel looked back at him. "Alright. I'll see what I can do. I can't guarantee results, but…I can at least guarantee an audience."

"Good enough for me," Emett said. "Let's go see a psycho."