— A/D —

Content Warning: Language, Science, Violence, Engineering, Death and Adult Themes.

Reader Discretion is advised.

…

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction set within and drawing upon various properties that I claim no right or ownership over; characters and events invented to support my particular work I do claim as my own as far as is permissible by the governing law.

— End:A/D —

— * —

"I'm telling you, Alun, there's a void in there… damnit, just look at the bloody scans the blues gave us, then our own.. And here.. the giant gaps in the Salarian blue prints. Nothing, nothing, nothing. I call fucking void.. a big fucking void. Six of the things around the whole damn ring.."

The shape of the silent form of Alun leaning forward examining the wall to wall spread of screens, holos and old fashioned hard paper prints barely shifted in the dimmed room.

"Jason.. you need a new hobby mate."

"Argh.. piss off. You've been working on the same damn pack from Alliance research… you can't tell me everyone missed this-"

"Jas.. seriously. Stop. Take a breather and think for just a moment about the field of red flags you're barrelling toward here.." Alun stared at my hand annotated schematics and whistled under his breath.

I rubbed my temples. It'd been a long six months. Six god awful months on the SV Olympic. Who'd have guessed the alliance would pull a Sentinel class sub-light sleeper from the mothball fleet for a retrofit; then intentionally designate it for long term rotations in the SA's Citadel based task force. Somehow they'd been to squeeze in active accommodation, labs, a shit ton of sec-comms and her own spook brigade.. and still.. still.. managed to retain the rundown, rust bucket feel of a vessel well past any suitability for reclamation.

"Have you escalated this yet?"

"Hmph", I shrugged an answer. "Please. To whom.. half the supervisors on this are bureaucratic morons, the other half are sec-ops wannabes.. Jack, Ulys and Piotr are up to their necks in just keeping up with the Alliances updates. Not to mention actually staying at ahead of the polite yet cunning curiosity of our own friends and allies out there." I pointed a thumb toward the sole small porthole glowing in turning hues of purple and blue.

Alun nodded. "Good. Good..". He seemed distracted. "Keep it that way. I'll make arrangements."

I was surprised. He cut me off with a gesture.

"Jean is prepping a bit of a do for the new place.. home warming sort of thing. She wanted you to know you're welcome."

I grinned and nodded. Alun and Jean had been mainstays of my life since before we'd all graduated. They'd been a couple for as long as I'd known them. Admittedly it'd taken Jean a few years to make Alun aware of this. They were a good match. The recent upending and reshuffle of work and politics had seen our entire division uprooted from Arcturus to this new galactic hub. It had also seen Jean immediately take up a new role very much outside the INSIGHT team. The looming breakup of our team had kept Alun distracted. He'd recently decided to take the transfer too. And now was all but counting down the days till moving out to the Citadel-based team. A big plus was that they had been allocated an apartment in a new Alliance district; a tough opportunity to turn down given the alternatives of a hard bunk, or if you're really lucky: a micro cabin. I didn't begrudge them for it, but I didn't envy them either.

— * —

I stepped out of the steel white elevator into a corridor of closed doorways that arched back along a sparsely lit hall.

"Jason! You're just in time, I was about to send Alun to find you."

"Hey Jean." I grinned, returning the warm reception before glancing quickly at the chrono on my wrist in rising confusion, "Am I late?"

"No.. just need your help.."

It turned out that dinner had been promoted to a community effort of inappropriately skilled engineers. This through the unending joys of Jean and Alun having a rambunctious one year old. Which was the other reason for them having now permanently settled station-side. And, having a long delayed a house warming now; almost a year in. Suffice to say we'd been long overdue for a simple convivial meetup.

Later.. we were sat in the vast lounge, the chaos and amusement of the evening now waning in the late hours of the Citidels' night cycle. I relaxed with a glass of something golden brown and far too alcoholic in a hand. Listening quietly while they filled me in on the insane day to day of living on a giant alien space station.

"You know there are rumblings that the Baterians are threatening to pull out of Council space?" Jane sipped her drink while curled up against Alun. "Everything. Council accords, embassy, docks.. everything."

Alun rolled his eyes. "I can't say I'd be saddened to see them go.. the new colonies in the Skyllian Verge need to get better support from.. ow.. what was that for?"

"Don't be an idiot..". Jean shook her hand to get some feeling back into it. "It'd be a stupid move.. by the council AND them AND us."

I stared out of the window that overlooked the length of the ward spread out forward and below. "I bet there are a lot in the Alliance who wouldn't be sad to see them go."

Jean glowered. "The Council is the last thing keeping them in check.. even if at an arm's reach. We're lucky the Council has kept the peace so far, mostly by not interfering. But even that is taking a side. Ours. Especially if you believe the broad Baterian claim over the Skyllian Verge. We've all seen the incident reports from the new colonies. The Hegemony claims it's all their territory, even if we got there first! If they go rogue, Who is going to patrol a hostile border between council space and a Slaver state? Turians?"

..

"Sorry, sorry.. I'll get a cloth.."

"You alright there Jas?" Alun grinned.

"Fine.. just had a mental picture of the brass 'entertaining' the idea."

Jean shook her head in sympathy. "Not going to happen."

I dabbed at the spots down my shirt. "So.. a political win is entirely missing that the council is fully absolved of the burden in policing a rouge state that is in our backyard. Nice. How exactly do you get a job in the diplomatic corps?"

Alun grinned "Telegraph your wins and bury the rest."

"Let's just hope the Alliance fixes it before it becomes a noose. Else the Alliance is going to be split up into territorial garbage that will only divide our focus." Jean waved off any further discussion on the topic and elbowed Alun.

"Oh.. Jas.. remember that.. observation."

I stared for a while before the mental cards shuffled into place. "uh, sure.."

Jean stared at her drink. "I got you on an EVA construction detail to see if there's any meat to your hypothesis."

I raised an eyebrow. "Do I look like a suit monkey?"

"Stuff the smartarse commentary Jas, this took months to prep.. you figured something was there,". Alun smirked. "I figured you'd be the best person find what there is.. So you're number three on a two man team; the other are Alliance selects, technical specialists-"

"I'm an Alliance specialist-"

"A different kind." Chimed Jean.

"Look. Jas.. you know the right side up of a schematic.. and possibly where to point a cutting torch, hopefully..." Alun ignored my eye roll and continued. "This is the best that can be done without garnering unnecessary oversight or questions from others."

"There's a lot of work going on in the vicinity for the approved Alliance fleet support integrations. Theres already seven rigging and fabrication crews on the cards. We figure an extra team can be in and out with no questions."

"Right.. so.. you two have actually taken this seriously?" The two stared at me before I shook my head and grinned. "Alright.. I'm sorry for ever doubting you."

Alun stalled for a moment before continuing. "No one, listen Jas.. no one, will know about this; even the two on your team will be briefed only on support and deference. If anything goes sideways.. it never happened."

I frowned. "Uhm. What position exactly are you two in these days?"

Jean continued, "The timing is going to be flexible.. we'll know at best a few hours before you'll have to be on site."

I let out a long breath. "This is not my forte..". As if they weren't already well aware.. fuck, I was a desk jockey, engineer and analyst.

"You'll get a fitment instruction within a week or two depending how much interference is run." Jean's head darted back as a bing chimed from the kitchen, her face lighting up as the evening and conversation instantly shifted gear, "Pudding is ready!

— * —

"… and you push this to engage the vacuum seal-"

The visor clunked down. A momentary darkness fixing with a hiss before the HUD flickered to life. The experience brought back distant memories that I'd long hoped had been overwritten.
I tested the movement. The tight closed space reminding me of the weird duality in the cost of such effortless freedom: sealed power augmented movement came with intense background claustrophobia in the knowledge that only the integrity of a few layers of polymers and metal were the differentiator between this being a critical life support device or a wearable coffin. Yay engineering. Of course, usually built by the lowest bidder.. that said.. this didn't feel cheap.

"-latest prototype.. quite a lot of the core design may eventually appear in standard issue."

"It's not as bulky as I remember."

"The leanest yet.. a few tricks picked up in the last couple of months." The quartermaster smirked before continuing. "This loadout is not spec'd for heavy plate, bit of a mixed bag. So.. you've got medium and light plates for basic protection but more of the latter, erring for agility. You've also got the new council compatible mounts, an integrated prototype shield harness - in basic configuration - and this."

I extended a black and grey gauntleted hand to receive the offered item.

I held up the small vial to a light, more marveling at the ease of dexterity in grasping a small fused quartz tube with a blue white fluid between armored thumb and forefinger; gods.. the tech had come a long way from the mainstay brute suits that still saw daily service. "Uhm-"

"Lower left pauldron."

The HUD exposed the control in a few blinks. I pulled out the empty eight slot cartridge, fitted the vial and snapped the low profile holder closed. The armored cap vanished into the pattern of plasteel plates. "Gods, that's easier than the back mounted compartment.."

The man shrugged, "Solo spec is being upgraded to either chest or arm access-"

"And that was what, exactly?"

Just then the door slid open, Alun stepped in with a pad in one hand and coffee in the other. "Excuse us, Chief."

The quartermaster saluted. I raised a visor hidden eyebrow.

The door slid closed as Alun placed the pad down on a steel equipment trolley with a click. "All good?" He asked.

I nodded and shifted, pulling myself upright to feel the suit flexing; musing at the extra few inches of height advantage that it gave.

Alun stared into the cup as he swirled his coffee, taking a swig before gesturing to the pad. "Briefing."

"Wait a sec, I thought this was a fitting-"

Alun closed his eyes and shook his head.

I stopped myself as the cards fell into place and nodded. I reached out for the pad and scanned its terse content as Alun repeated it almost verbatim.

"A Kodiak will pull up within half an hour. The rest of your team will be on.."

"Callsign— Crius.. seriously?.. fuck… this again? I'm OUT of that shit, Coeus." Alun's sharp brown eyes snapped up from their fixture on the cup. "Fuck, Al.. and so are you. This is sounding a lot like it's some sort of black ops bullshit. I'm an Alliance engineer."

".. now..", Alun's drew another sip from the mug before adding, "It cost a lot to set this up Jas."

I glared back. "Okay. okay. Fine.", I nodded toward the closed door to the forward corridor beyond. "I'll just need to get my notes.. I've a journal-"

Alun raised a hand to cut me off. "No. You'll have to use what's already in there." He tapped the side of his head. "Your office is boxed, Jason." He looked away. "Orders." And pulled another swig. "If anything happens there'll be no record. The Systems Alliance wants to make sure it's nose is clean if anything goes pear shaped in what is simply a construction survey on the most advanced, complex, massive and very alien space station in the known galaxy-"

"-That I want to cut a hole into… it sounds positively trivial doesn't it." I flat toned before compartmentalisating. "But it IS to find a hole that makes no sense… If it's such a supposed risk, why are you pushing it?"

"I'm not."

"So how'd this go from something merely interesting to hauling not just skeletons but the whole fucking wardrobe out of the house?"

"Look. I raised your findings and.. they piqued interest somewhere up the line. It's your find, plus you're the only one in the department who has non spec EVA experience and did basic-"

"What? .. yeah as a fucking kid working in a breakers yard for credits... What about outside the department? There's a whole fucking branch of the Alliance called Marines for a reason.." A second thought dropped, ".. and what do you mean 'basic'? over a decade ago! Before throwing it in for college and career."

Alun shrugged, "Career still counts. Even if you didn't put it on your record."

"Fuck off. This has nothing to do with what's on or off the record.. but fine. I'll go do my own field work to satisfy the clearly rampant curiosity of an arse wipe of epimethians all too busy making sure they have extra padding down there."

Alun continued. "But -and this is important- nothing we do can be allowed to jeopardize the tenuous relationships with the council races or the Alliances growing presence here at the Citadel. We're in a good place, but it could be better. You know I hate politics-"

"-Yet," I interrupted, "more and more you sound just like one of them, Al". I waved a hand dismissively. "Sorry.. I know you and Jean have been navigating a very different world from the R&D labs back on Arcturus, what.. almost erring toward two years now? I'm not blind to the quiet reshuffles.. gods, it's hard not to play spot the spook out here these days. The Alliance is changing tone; perspectives shifting, new risks and active unknowns all trying to figure each other out. It's a different galaxy, bigger, stranger, weirder, more-"

"-mysterious?"

I triggered the visor release to flip the mask up. My glare met in equal part by Alun's insufferable grin.

"Screw you.. You know I don't believe in that crap. I'll go with: riskier.. but still fuck full of stuff that begs ripping open to see what makes it tick-"

"That's why you're on this."

I stared him down. We'd enough history that we could pick up undercurrents that either was avoiding. I scowled. "What's in the vial?"

The fraction delay pricked my attention. "Contingency."

I looked at my arm. "Theirs or Yours?". I shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not sure if I should feel worried or comforted."

"It's not my call."

I let out a long pursed breath. "Fuck, Alun." I shook my head. "We all got out together, years ago.. Because of this particular shit…" A thought pinged. I scowled.. "How?"

I looked up at his distant eyes. ".. Leto."

Fuck..

I bit my lip as I watched my friend carefully. "You know this can go two ways.. right here.. now. Literally, a powered suit versus lab coats.. and good luck fucking stopping me..." The problem that loomed large was that we both knew how it would go.. based entirely on trust. Alun just focused his attention on the mug in hand.

"Fine. I'll play. Last jaunt.. Hear that, Cronus?" I pointedly shouted at the room at large.. "He is listening, right? Fuck, of course he is.. And then I'm done..". Fuck me.. I was over this years ago; apparently I thought I was. Some demons just didn't die. I sighed and gathered my thoughts.

I glared at Alun. "I'll trust that everything you're not saying is in good intent."

The answer came in the enduring silence that I eventually broke. "You're not a bastard, you know that." I stood up, flipping the visor down as I drew to the armor's full height. "..Someone owes me.. big time.."

Alun frowned. Posing the unstated question.

I took a looming step toward the lab dressed figure of Alun. "Playing guinea pig to the department that made this.." I flicked the side of the visor, which made a dull thuck sound. "Don't pretend I can't tell that it biolocked; We did the first implementation of the tech three years ago before handover to integration.. and all this. It's hard to forget your own work… it fucking better come off.." I shook my head. "'Plausible deniability'.. two words that carry far too much hidden baggage."

The broadcast intercom crackled to life. "Specialist Winston to airlock six. Specialist Winston to airlock six."

"I guess that's me.. I'll let you know if I decide you owe me too.."

"Get done and I'll be here when you get back.. Jean wants to do another dinner, an actual dinner.. if Alexis plays along." Alun raised his coffee as the door began sliding shut. "Godspeed."

— * —

I stumped into the Kodiak. Ducking instinctively under the bulkhead what with now standing a hand under 7 foot. The shuttle was basically empty.. military utilitarianism having stripped it bare of anything even vaguely alluding to creature comfort. The door to the cockpit was sealed. Two other heavily armored figures in totally not marine standard issue yet sporting barely dry yellow and white construction colors stood over an open equipment crate.

"Specialist Winston?" The closest of the figures turned to meet me, shutting down a forearm length holo interface indicative of the omnitool that was almost a required possession for daily function within any extension of council space. "Lieutenant Wray and Corporal Teems." He nodded toward the other.

I thought for a moment. "Crius.. or just C." Close enough I figured, continuing to add,"'Specialist' and 'Winston' I reserve for those I don't actually meet in person.. so, marine corps?"

"Not confirming or denying, sir. Sparks and Torq." The two brandished the accompanying gear. The corporal's two handed grip on the torq hammer making the breaker and leverage tool look more like some sort of ancient melee weapon. The Lieutenant had a cutting pack and torch kit on his back.

I chuckled at the literal and patently off the cuff adoptions, "Glad to hear." I peered into the crate. "Is there a package for me, Lt Sparks?"

The not a marine nodded, gesturing to the Corporal who stowed the hammer on his back harness and pulled out a long thin box almost as long as he was high.

"We've been taking guesses.. but it's lock is keyed to your ID. I said rifle but Lt is a little more reserved."

"You know I'm an engineer, right?"

The Corporal shrugged noncommittally.

I keyed my ID into the small lock scanner that went dark just as the latches snapped open. I stared and swore under my breath at what could only be the pointed handiwork of two very serious friends..

The Lt whistled under his breath. "Old school, sir?"

I hefted the five foot long, inch and a half diameter tube. Years of heat cycles leaving weaves of color over the dark heavy metal shell. The suit adjusted to augment the force required to wield the tool.

"Holy crap.. I thought those were banned.."

I glanced toward the corporal before returning to the shaft, grasping it a third from the top and bottom to twist and unscrew it neatly into two. "I don't think banned.. exceedingly rare and too expensive to justify the arbitrary existence of.."

The Lt tapped me on the shoulder. "Do you know how to use that, sir?"

"I heard they're responsible for whole rescue and containment teams being wiped out!" The Corporal managing to sound goggle eyed.

"Unfortunately not immune from exaggeration.. but partially true.. yes." I looked around the confined space of the Kodiak. "And No.. I'm not going to light it in here.. that would be suicidal.

"Shouldn't they all have been decommissioned?"

I shook my head. "Almost impossible to do so..". I tapped the heavy shafts together. "Molybdenum, Titanium and depleted Uranium alloy.. hard to make a forge hot enough to make the thing let alone break it, especially after it self tempers. A relic made for an industry that almost no longer exists."

"Industry?"

"Pre eezo ship breaking-"

"-that was for breaking ships?"

"Was.. yes. Not many of those anymore-"

"Doesn't it work anymore?"

"A bit of the opposite.. increasing eezo contamination affects the cutting plasma, the arc becomes more elastic the longer the cut is held. Add in drift, emissive propulsion and reflections and you have an almost unstoppable and uncontrollable spaghettiing line of horrific destruction and death."

"I'll stick to the cutting torch and we'll be far behind you if you light that thing.. sir"

I nodded in reflective understanding. "Can't say I wouldn't do the same.." My attention shifted to the armor's back harness that easily accepted a shaft behind each shoulder with no sense of change in balance despite the load. "Let's hope it's just along for an airing, we'll be in deep shit if I have to remember how my grandfather used to use the thing.. it's a Joke.. he let me try it a few times-"

The shuttle's acceleration shifted slightly underfoot as the pilot called over the comm. "Drop point ETA in 30 seconds. The SV Yardleigh is operating in the vicinity for extraction support. Pickup in nine hours, beacon code Three Three Two."

I pulled up my HUD, dismissing the list of system reports and reminders except for one. "Sec-comms, local group only, low power, no broadcast, passive monitor enable.. ready?"

Two ready's pinged back.

The sound within the shuttle faded as the atmosphere vented. I grabbed an overhead handrail as the side door folded open. The interior of the craft instantly washed with a nebulous blue glow while the dark starlit hull loomed closer.

A light flicked from red to green. I jumped. Floating for a distended second as the massive smooth hull plates sunk closer.

HUD: Mag coupling enable.

The arrival concluded in three soft landing thunks.

The Corporal broke over the comms, still panting a little from the mixed adrenaline of the drop. "Holy shit.. Spe— I mean Crius, C, sir.. your armor."

I looked across at a bracing arm to see the black hue shift to a white blue-gray, mimicking the hull. Leaving no doubt that to any casual observer the landed team was a standard two man construction crew… just like the other seven or so out there right now.

"Fucking hell…". I swore under my breath wondering what other surprises Alun and Jean had snuck under the radar.

Barely registering the tail end of the Lt muttering. "-gineer.. my ass.."

"Sparks?"

"Nothing, sir."

I waited as the passive scanner built up a map of the vicinity; eventually capturing enough detail that it looked at least vaguely familiar. I stood and pointed in the target direction. "This way.. watch your mag coupling strength. As pretty as it looks there is still a lot of dust and debris out here. Green is good, two yellows is one push away from joining the void.."

"Shit, shit shit… Shit!"

I felt the vibration before I could turn to see the slow motion slip and fall of the Lt. The absolute knowledge of the lever action inexorably pulling the sole fixed boot off of the hull and the paralyzing fear of the fatalistic rebound.

I didn't need to see his face to know he was well aware of the impossibility of any simple save, yet human nature is always to reach for the impossible grasp..

The Corporal was frozen in place, safe.. but out of any useful reach... Damnit. "Sparks.."

"-"

His uneven rebound had imparted a small rotation that had slowly turned the flailing figure 180 degrees.. "Sparks?"

"-!"

"Wray! Drop the pack and punch it away.. NOW."

The shrinking writhing figure paused. Threshed around and eventually split into two. The human form slowly drifting closer.

"Spot on, mate." I paced forward a few steps, kicking the dust away to plant a solid footing. "Nice and slow."

HUD: dynamic mag coupling off.. power max.

"Gottcha.. hold.. hold.. okay. Reset couplers, set to static.. ready? Right.. holding? Good. Take a second. Torq? You alright?"

The corporal edged closer. "-Yes."

The shaken Lt eventually raised a ready thumbs up. "Are.. we nearly.. there?"

I looked across the gentle arc of the hull and through the HUD map. "No. Seventy meters."

A distance that took the better part of twenty minutes with an abundance of caution. The corporal taking point and I the rear after I pointed the direction.

"Uhm.. Spe-.. C, sir. Uhm.. problem."

I padded past the Lt, discovering the Corporal's concern for myself as my boot failed to find any purchase across the leading seam. Outwardly there was no discernible difference between where we were standing and the next hull plate. Even the layer of ever-settling dust showed no hint of the fundamental property change. I dropped down to one knee and ran a hand over the non-compliant surface. An immediate prickle running up my arm as I increased the pressure. A cascade of HUD sensor errors and failure warnings sprang to life as tendrils of black wrapped up my arm where the active mimic overloaded and failed. I leaned back, shaking off a whole body shudder as it felt like a static shock grounded through me.

HUD: transitory fault cleared. mimic: reset.

The Lt joined the line out. "Problem?"

I swallowed the sinking anticipation in my stomach, glancing from the chrono to the faux horizon with no meaningful sight of any of the other work parties or vessels.

"I suspect we are here."

"We've got to get inside." I stared thoughtfully at the outwardly normal and enormously flat hull plate.

"I could try pry it.." the corporal reached back to grasp the hilt of the torq hammer.

"Nah.. it's thought to be over a meter thick out here. Plus that thing is field sensitive.. if mag couplers won't bind then you've got no purchase to start with."

"The torch could've been useful-"

"Maybe… maybe not..". I knelt down again, running a hand over the hull and brushing the dust away. I watched the dust drift from my gauntlet, floating away at the barest disturbance.. yet.. "Hmm.. dust build up on the hull plates is mostly just electrostatic cling from ionizing polarization.. not a problem for big metal plates, gives a nice intro to why discharge pylons are important.. but that's metal. Zero it out or invert the polarity for an instant cleanup. But this, this isn't metal. The field is fake.. copying the surrounding charge to look the same."

I pulled up the sensor logs from my interaction and filtered the spurious readings, letting the suit's processor do some actual work..

Fucking sensors, you'd never see this with a scanner. Yet somehow the ubiquitous tech had seduced everyone to trusting tech and that winding down the proverbial window to feel the air rather than just trusting a number would garner a litany of deriding scoffs.

"Do we call for an early evac, sir?"

I looked at the Lt and shook my head. "No-" I paused as a result prompt pinged into my HUD.. a single eV number. I grinned, not that anyone could see me grin, but me knowing meant I had a plan.. Of course it needed actual figuring out, but it existed; the next bits were mere details.. the shape of a potential plan was always a good start. "We are going to go inside this thing."

"Uhm.. how exactly?"

"Torq… do you have any sentimental attachment to that hammer?"

The young corporal turned the two handed tool over in his grasp "..not particularly."

"Right.. here's the plan.."

—

The Lt's motionless helmet stared in my direction for a minute. "You're insane.. you do know that?"

"-I've faced the claim a few times, but look at the options here. Fail the mission, risking any future chance of figuring out something that literally no one else has found under their noses… or.."

"Or?"

"Do what we came here to do. I get the sense you two weren't tasked to this mission based on an aversion to risk or propensity to pursue anything less than full mission objectives.. right? Okay.. let's make a front door."

A minute later the Corporal repeated back the action plan point by point; ".. then I mass charge and throw it?"

"Yes."

".. vectoring slightly to my right?"

"Yes."

".. while you and Lt hold on facing backwards?"

"Well.. down, but Yes."

".. and this will push us.. down?"

"Yes."

".. where we won't bounce and drift off into free space?"

"Yes."

".. and not die?"

"Yes."

".. and you're sure this will work?"

"Optimistically confident, Yes."

"That's not what the Corporal asked, sir."

"Yes. Rhetorically..."

The Lt waved toward the offending space. "What makes you think you're right?"

I sighed. "What do you have in your equipment belt? I need something that'll hold a charge, metal, preferably shielded.."

The two dug around to produce a few spare armor plates and a small handheld charge pump used for priming tool starter boost capacitors.. a mainstay of cold start work. It'd do..

—

"Right.. it's charged.. if it stops don't touch it, this is a low tech demo so it'll get stupid hot…"

…

"Fucking hell…" the corporal exclaimed.

Lt Wray was a little more reserved. "Where did it go?"

I stared at the clear spot where the palm sized plate had vanished through, dragging the surface dust with it. "Inside."

"How?"

"EM theory.. with frills."

The Lt thought for a second, "and this.. method.. will scale up?"

"If we are fast and can sink the charge.. yes. Whatever is behind this is at the bare minimum to create this illusion; strong enough to fool sensors and casual collisions but low enough that we can slip through it by acting like perfect energy sinks.. just for the few moments of interfacing."

"What do we need to do?"

"Right.. bring up your suit power control and distribution interface, can you see the present discharge configuration? Goto flow states..? Nevermind.. erm, give me access to your control systems…. I'm not going to vent you.. promise.", the two soldiers looked at each other before complying. "Right, give me a minute.."

Alliance gear was pretty well designed… primary power sources, batteries and capacitive boost banks made for a reliable and adaptable power system. These models all still had absorptive charging support. It was useful for long EVAs in and out of direct sunlight; just so long as you had a good sink for any heat. The more modern systems with eezo generators were a looming exception to kill the feature off.. buuut that was tomorrow.. today, here, it was still a useful

tool..

HUD, local group: capacitor bank discharge negative max, isolate main power+batteries from capacitors, route radiant energy absorption = capacitors, enable radiant charging: nolimit.

I hesitated on the nolimit for a second deciding that heat dumping should work… should; humans were mostly water anyway.

A few minutes later the three of us carefully pushed off; barely floating upwards and outwards over the indiscernible offending space of the lea facing outer edge of the giant ring that somehow garnered the homely title of Presidium..

"Ready.."

"..mass charging the hammer."

"Max drain charge balanced on all suits.. impedance match ready.. three, two..one-"

The second the corporal let go we rocketed forward.
One small detail I'd declined to prep the others on was a hard suit power down for five seconds to ensure the suit systems were not accidentally fried during the transition. An experience far easier to excuse than to explain.

The instant dark fell, I counted the seconds of silence paced only by the unvented reflection of my own breath. A jolt, and then blinding flash as everything seared white for a fraction of an instant, leaving behind a wave of sweltering heat. More blind seconds passed until a crash and crush pounded the suit as we rammed directly into some unseen surface.. and stayed.

HUD: startup… initializing. . . .

I pushed up, the slower start up of the other two's older hardware giving me pause to help them both up before the comm relinked.

"Sorry about the blackout. The reset will have disconnected the control link.."

It was pitch black, not even low light showed a stray photon.

The corporal and lieutenant flicked on their wrist lights, pointing up to scan the vast unbroken ceiling ten meters or so above us.

Wray glanced around the cavernous space that stretched away toward distant hints of the other walls potentially hemming the rectangular space.

A gesture and nod in an understanding that I was not privy to suddenly saw the Lt and the Corporal pull pistols from harnesses I'd written off as heavy plating. The weapons unfolded, expanding in a fraction of a second in a suddenly worrying development. On reflection I wondered why I'd not anticipated it.

"Sparks?" I cautioned.

"Standard operation in an unknown situation, sir. Uhm, mind staying to my left and the corporals right please.. your mimic is making it difficult to visually track you."

"Noted."

"Look at this.." The corporal wandered over, something in hand. "I found the test plate. Why is it black?"

I turned it over and tapped the vitrified surface. "It got a little toasty."

The slightly shaken corporal stared at the offending article.

"Don't dwell on it", I cautioned, watching as the two split off to do whatever 'securing the area' ment in a demonstrably long abandoned space. I shrugged off the incongruence to turn to my own interests.

HUD: passive scan..

I knelt down to inspect the subtly dimpled floor plating. Trying to ignore the chasing shadows that the soldiers' beams were scattering through the increasingly complex space. There was some artificial gravity here.. not much, bleed maybe. Gravity tended to be annoying that way. Inhemmable permittivity. The fun of distortion rather than force, but it was more than welcome. I ran a hand over the thin coating of dust on the deck plate. Gray-black, lots of metallic fragments.. More a patina than a dusting.. very different to what was on the outer hull.

The lighting blinked, left first then right. I couldn't hear them but I felt the staggered break in foot falls through the deck plate. I looked up as the arclight beams flickered back. Both the Lt and the Corporal looking momentarily confused as they fiddled with the manual wrist overrides.

The Teems mumbled over the comm ".. just a glitch. Suit's still booting."

A few meters ahead the texture of the floor morphed into a massive grid pattern. I frowned, looking up at a huge protuberance that rose from what was possibly the center of the void. ".. phased array, concentrator.. tuneable mirror and-". I looked down at the reverberating clunk of a line of grated panels running underfoot. "..a wave guide? The hell.. is this supposed to be a projector or a receiver?"

The two reaching beams swung back in a dazzling split second of blindness before the view clamped down.

"Sorry sir?"

I waved the lights away. "Nothing, I'm just mumbling to myself… this setup doesn't make sense unless you're moving a stupid amount of energy in a way that I've never seen.."

The other two had wandered back closer, weapons lowered..thankfully.

"What would something like this do?" A hint of genuine curiosity in Teems' voice.

I chuckled. "Corporal, I can't begin to answer that without more guesses than are meaningful right now.." I looked around the array. "Its big.. moves a hell of a lot of power.. and-"

"-What was that?" The Lt spun around, weapon all too swiftly live and at the ready.

Teems slowly readied the same, scanning carefully. "Lt?" He cautiously asked.

Wray continued to scan to his right. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear?" I shook my head. "We're on a closed channel."

The Corporal called clear, Wray followed suit a few hesitant seconds later.

I lifted a grate that opened down into a lower plasma guide that could double as a cramped walkway. "This way. I figure finding the heart of this is the only useful starting point. If this is out.. that way is in."

The soldiers scanned the space below before nodding and cautiously climbing down, Lt on point.

The conduit merged to a low tunnel that arched gently downward and curved away to vanishing black.

"In for a penny?" I mused while stumping along into the low narrow space. Single file in a cramped space needing an awkwardly stooped walk.. practically home for a ship-board engineer; hell for anyone else.

Ten minutes down the Corporal swore under breath. I turned around and paced back the few meters we'd spread out, cognisant there was no practical way the LT could pass me and he was a glow six or so meters ahead. Teems was fervently scanning the few meters of curved wall behind, frustrated at the limited range.

"You alright there, Corporal?"

His light stalled at the radial terminus. "I swear.."

"Shadows, mate."

".. but I heard-"

I patted him on the shoulder. "-nothing. We're on an open intercom. Bury it."

The man stalled for a second. I frowned. Rechecking the passive scan and the roll back recording.. nothing. "Come on."

An hour's march on and only the gods knew where in the superstructure we were. Sensors still showed a hard vacuum. The Lt had paused at a few gentle tunnel merges that had started to hint at a possible convergence. I eventually caught up with an awe struck Wray standing at the gaping threshold where the tube opened up into a vast spherical chamber. A tangle of narrow walkways wound through the sphere's inner space; concentrating toward the center and branching in spirals out to a series of other distant tunnels.

"Finally", The Corporal groaned as he stretched. The two soldiers taking a minute to rest and orient themselves.

I stepped out toward the distant center. Focused entirely on the singular most captivating feature within the sphere. A floor to ceiling pilon that speared through the axis of the space to meet at an odd glow at the very center of the sphere.

Closer, I stopped for a double take. Rolling layers seemed to ripple outward in thermocline like distortions that emanated from the very center. Like bubbles they expanded and thinned rapidly as they spread out spherically from the core.

"Four seconds…" I'd counted under my breath. Timing the interval between each emergent pulse. The scanners still read clear, so I slowly approached the expansion threshold just within the closest ring of the guide like walkways.

Three seconds.

Each bubble grew toward the strange terminus, slowed in a syrup-like deceleration to halt at the threshold, where it started to fade until replaced by the next.

Two seconds.

I reached out, a single digit stretching for the intangible boundary that rippled a fleeting reflection and a depthless black.

One second.

A white armored hand closed over my outstretched wrist, yanking me back, away from the writhing sphere, to fall with a flailing grasp barely on the edge of the barrierless walkway.

Four seconds.

I shook my head as I was pulled up. "T-Thanks Sparks.."

The Lt stared at me for a moment. "You alright there sir? We couldn't get your attention over comms. You were moving slowly, like weirdly slowly."

I looked up, at the soldier and behind him toward the placidly pulsing spheres. "Fucking hell.."

I scrambled up. "Give me something.. anything.. preferably useless."

A spare armor plate was offered.

"Good enough."

I threw it toward the boundary of the spheres. The gentle arc suddenly slowing as it got within a few tens of centimeters. Slowing further as it got nearer, till the lazy curve finally came to contact with the shell. It passed into the barrier but didn't appear on the other side.

The Lt whistled. "Mean way to go.."

"I don't think it's gone…"

"LIEUTENANT.. Lt!.. somethings.. wrong!-". The shout exploded over the comm. The Lt was two paces ahead of me as we sprinted back toward the Corporal.

The shout morphing to a panicked scream. "-no, no NO.. STOP, FUU-"

The scrambling Lt barely an arms length from the Corporal when the marine's suit explosively decoupled every panel and seal. The instantaneous decompression blasting the form off the platform to ram into the Lt in a hail of expanding debris.

I shouted as I stumbled to redirect my own momentum, only to take the full force of the Lieutenant and the remains of the Corporal. The walkway vanished from under foot as the chaos sent us tumbling into the empty space of the sphere.

HUD: system error {405, 401, 403}. Unknown:Unknown. Isolating. Hard reset in 3..2..

"-the Fuc-?". I managed before the barrelling world abruptly muted and set with unpowered leaden weight. And then snapping suddenly dark as the Lt's systems seemingly reset too. We were still moving fast, but at least inside something. The Lt suddenly went still. An unpowered nudge spun him around to where I could only vaguely make out the shape of his helmet in the eerie glow. It shook side to side. One hand slowly reaching out to grasp my right wrist as the other forced something into my hand and closed my fingers over it. Thoroughly confused, I looked back up. The helmet shook again as the Lt slow motion two-hand punched me in the middle of the chest. Pushing away as he wrapped his arms over his head and curled up as best as one could in heavy armor.

"Fuck.. what? No.. fuuuck No!"

The explosion was dampened. Muted by the quick effort of the man. I could only look away before the few collisions impacted in gut punches of even more energy. Seconds later something rammed into my back.

Hard.

My ears rang from the metallic impact and instant whiplash. When I came to, I was floating in a slow motion sucker punch, not barrelling along as before. But definitely aware of a downward acceleration as the weak gravity had renewed its grasp.

I managed to lean back to see the vanishing length of the hexagonal central pylon tube slowly sinking away segment by segment. I watched it for a time before the gradually increasing speed finally hammered home a deathly chill.

I scrambled to twist around in the vacuum and micro gravity, suddenly very aware of the growing reflection,a pulsing glow, hinting at a looming inevitability.

HUD: power on.. initializing… stand by..

Part of me internally fumed. "Fucking awesome timing.."

Holding a hand up I could gauge the periodicity of the glow..

Three seconds..

HUD: factory reset complete.. thank you for volunteering for {redacted} advanced prototype fitment.. biolock match detected. retrieving test specifications: error, in-field operation active: disabling all features..

Two seconds..

"ALUN! The fuck-"

HUD: high stress levels detected..

"NO SHIT.."

HUD: administering sedative {error}, administering stimulant {error}, administering {type error: 418} [abort, retry, cancel, ignore?]

One second.

My mind flashed scenarios from hellish temporal gradients to molecular spaghettification. I twisted, trying and failing to generate some -or any- rotation. I was desperate for any glimpse of the on coming surface. Not being able to see meant an impossible guess on how I'd collide.. and the ensuing collection of horrors to anticipate. Best survivable case? Flat.. spread eagled it was then.

HUD: prompt [abort, retry, cancel, ignore?]

Screw it. "Ignore. And damn yo-"