2.6

"The child shows extensive signs of genetic engineering." Mikah reported. "He has two hearts, two stomachs, three lungs, eyes better than high-quality cameras, skin that can protect against bullets, energy weapons, and most forms of radiation, a layer of even more resilient neuro-reactive carapace beneath his skin, a skeletal system composed of a bio-metal that combines the best properties of adamantium and ceramite, similar coiling cables integrated with his sinew and musculature systems, a biochemical replacing his blood that's dozens of times more efficient, coexisting with engineered biosynthetic cells that serve to rapidly repair bodily damage, and several additional lobes and organs all over his body connecting to other organs, his central nervous system, and his brain, half of which I can't even guess the purpose of."

He took a deep breath. "And as if all that wasn't enough, he appears to have been engineered spiritually as well as physically. His soul is so strong that it made a psy-reactive crystal explode when I brought it into the room, without even setting it up. From what I could see, his soul and body are also deeply interconnected in a way that normal Humans aren't, though I have no idea what that means."

"But he is healthy?" Vivian asked.

"He's either the healthiest thing on the planet." Mikah shrugged. "Or he's half a second away from death. I have no idea. I've never seen biology like this before, Vivian. Even the old Man of Gold augmentations don't come close."

"How did he even get here?" Leo asked. "We're in the middle of an Empyrean Storm."

"His pod is..." Mikah leaned back, before tapping at his console. The holotable in the center of the room activated, projecting an image of the pod. "His pod's a marvel. It's engineered inside and out to protect against exposure to the Empyrean. It's got Gellar Fields, psy-dampening materials, actual warp-tech, hexagrammic wards, and some kind of lingering psy-energy that's repelling normal Warp Energies. I'd say that whoever made this thing knew exactly what they were doing, except this pod still got launched into the Empyrean somehow, and I'm fairly certain it wasn't intentional."

Definitely wasn't.

"One would hope that launching a pod with a baby in it into the Empyrean wasn't intentional." Tori spoke. "Especially a child engineered to such a degree."

"There's only one proof it offers." Lucy interjected. "Somewhere out there, there are other survivors."

Silence filled the room.

Yes. A great deal many survivors. But, Lucy... Not all of them are the good kind.

"Statistics called for at least some." Singleton noted. "Though it wasn't a certainty."

"We had the Shroud. That was the only reason we survived. We just didn't know about everybody else." She leaned back, relaxing into her seat. Her hand came up to the root of her nose, fingers briefly drifting her skin.

A huff of air escaped her, and she looked up, smiling. "We're not alone. We're not the only ones left."

Seeing her like this was refreshing. She was normally so serious.

But any good feeling I might have had about it didn't last. I, after all, knew what was out there.

And I knew where this was going to go. Ignorance might not have been bliss, but she wasn't going to like what she found out there.

"How many other Federation worlds survived?" She asked aloud. "Do you think any of them escaped the Storms?"

"It is impossible to say." Tori clasped her hands together, resting her chin on her fingers. "After the Iron Schism, nobody was in a good position, but the odds are that at least one planet did."

"Humanity would have survived, even if the Federation didn't." Leo noted. "People are just too tenacious for that. Plenty of worlds might have gone outright extinct, and plenty of worlds probably lost even more technology than we have, but... If there were any survivors, then there'd be a lot of them."

Lucy straightened. "And now we know."

The others waited. They knew, I think, where she was going with this.

"I think we should discuss Project Moth."

I still found that name utterly hilarious.

Everybody in the room shifted.

"Not much has changed since the last time we talked about." Mikah said, before sighing. "Just the most important thing."

Project Moth. It had been thought up... probably two decades ago, now.

One thing to note about Sanctuary's population. A good portion of it was alive when the Human Federation still existed as an active government. Damn near all of the rest were only a few generations removed from that. An effect of that was that the culture of Sanctuary was still quite close to the culture of the Federation, a polity which, by large, had been pretty big on the whole spirit of cooperation and value of Humanity thing.

An attitude that had been reinforced by the fact that, on this planet, it was constantly menaced by Daemons and those corrupted by them. Many people here had lost family, friends, and more to the Daemons, only to find others in Sanctuary who had gone through the exact same, ready to help them come to terms with their loss. There was a strong communal sentiment, here, an emphasis on cooperation and mutualism.

There was also an equally powerful 'fuck Daemons' sentiment, though one could argue that this was simply common sense.

Project Moth had been an idea; the thought that they should leave Sanctuary, venture out into the greater galaxy, find other Humans, and basically start unfucking things. The name came from the fact that they'd be the proverbial moth, chasing the light of civilization in the darkness of this galaxy. Plans had been drawn up, refined...

It had been shelved on the account that they were still getting their own stuff together, as well as that this Warp Storm prevented access in or out, so nobody could leave even if they wanted to, nor did they know if there was anybody else left to save. It had been put aside, then, but Lucy...

She wished to explore. She wished to help. Enough of an idealist to believe that there was somebody else out there she could help.

"Lucy." Singleton paused, for a moment. "The universe... is not always kind."

She stopped. And she was enough of a realist to know what the words meant, the intent coming through clearly.

She nodded, reaching out to grasp his wrist. "What would it make us if we didn't at least try?" She asked, turning Singleton's arm.

There, written in neat, crisp letters, were a mere four words.

'That Others May Live'.