- 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.
. . . . .
Edit-2024/09: v3 of the 1st chapter.
- End:A/D -
— * —
The Council Citadel hung in view. A vast space station beyond the meter of any living species. The hub of galactic civilization, power and prestige. This was the closing foray of humanity's greatest leap. Mere years ago the darkness of lonely space had torn open. Humanity had been barely a decade into its new found wings when the harsh reality of conflict had borne them into the opening forays of war with the Turians. The first contact war. It had set a mold for the lingering wariness despite the grand optimism that had followed its abrupt end. A bittersweet start, but Humanity had rallied, swept up in the buoyant welcome into galactic arms.
That was the start. The beginning of a new maturing age for Humanity and the end of Humanity's unmeasured reach into space. What followed was the negotiation, the politics and the unseen wrangling as everyone desperately wanted to understand Humans, and Human's everyone else. Born into this was the System Alliance Mission Fleet. A stationing of almost fifty vessels in the nebula beyond the grand jewel of the Citadel. Its role.. Supporting the effort of Humanity's representation as the wheels of economic and environmental integration began. Now, seven years on and the first contact war sinking into memory, the fleet that was once the foothold of human presence was all but forgotten. The ships were being retired, the fleet dismantled, the old barely towable ships scrapped and sold off. The few still functioning Departments and Sections were moving back home, the Arcturus station in Human Space or filtering into permanent facilities now on the Citadel.
The SV Olympic still floated in the aged fleet. The large fading letters of 'Human Systems Alliance' were emblazoned in heavy type across the ships' broadside in English and then three other council scripts. It was indistinct, blending between all the other vessels. Its assignment was to an Alliance research and interest group, INSIGHT. One of the last broad investigative and research divisions that was pending integration into the Systems Alliance Mission, reassignment or dissolution.
Jason Willman took the job seriously. He liked it. It involved researching the aliens'.. Asari, Turian and Selarian, knowledge. Not them.. obviously. He scoured what the knew to marry it what humans had learned. His job was to find the things between knowledge spaces. Find what wasn't shared or what was hidden in the plain sight between what everyone thought they knew. For the most part his focus leaned toward the more sensitive articles of concern. This generally got the time, funding and leave to ask the important questions; like why, how or (more usually) really? The giant space station was his present focus. Of course understanding something of this thing magnitude was nigh impossible and then couple that fact with the awareness that none of the occupying species had actually built it merely served as the starting point. It was remarkable how little was actually known about it given the thousands of years it had been occupied. It was an incredible grant, an enduring remnant of the legacy of the Protheans. Much like the giant relays and countless fragments of the one time galactic empire that had crossed the known galaxy. Each race who had found these pieces of the fragmented legacy were immeasurably changed. The value of the finds directly shaping the fortunes of risen species to where Prothean relics were coveted and their legacy was seen through the eyes of revelry and wistful attribution. A legacy that had never sat well with Jason. Humans had managed the legacy of their own early civilisations with careful neutrality for the real risks of falling prey to the same maladies that had haunted them. Why should it be different beyond Earth. He remembered the discovery of the Mars artifacts, the furore it had swept across every discipline with mind boggling speed. Ideas and examples of tech, Eezo tech, dragging through every hall of thought and science before anyone had the wherewithal to stop and reflect. Suddenly the stars opened up to humanity. It had changed everything, again. Once more, faster than anyone could have anticipated. Faster than there was time or care to ask what or why as Humanity had accelerated to progress at a rate that challenged the speed of light. Now, belatedly, the advancements were being picked apart; not only to learn the how but to try to understand the lost why.. But.. and this was Jason's frustration - no one cared for this detail. No one cared why the Protheans had built a monitoring post on Mars. No one cares why pieces of half assembled tech were left for any half technical mind to figure out. No one cared why the Mars outpost was abandoned and buried fifty thousand years ago. No one wondered why the ice nitrogen and water ice samples from the Charon relay sight were dated closer to the estimated time that Pluto was still a moon of Neptune rather than when Earth was buried in an ice age. Closer to his current concern.. No one cared how it was apparently just fine find and occupy a twenty five kilometer long space station; and have several entire cities on it - that no one really knew how were powered, built or worked. And, for some unfathomable reason, the collective authority of the free galaxy, judging by the ridiculous lack of materials, just weren't interested.
Jason rubbed his eyes. It had been a long day. No, month.. months actually. He ran a hand through his hair. He needed a shave and a shower. If there was an inspection he was definitely going to get grilled. The military had increased their oversight since the civil services had moved away, the Navy had become the preeminent force ever since Shanxi. While they tended to leave the more civilian sections alone, the minor technicality that all Alliance personnel a rank and responsibility gave some overzealous blue-suites the hook they needed to make sure everyone towed their line. How much longer this lasted was a background question. The rumor mill had not been idle. The Alliance was planning to restructure. Influences were creeping in from the Turian's entirely more militant culture, the hard separation of civil institutions that the Systems Alliance had eroded over the few decades during the chaotic sprint into space; and a creeping subtle inferiority complex at the heart of some of the very higher-ups.
For now, Jason did his job. The hint of regimen was healthy. He kept is physical grade up and cleared his small arms accreditation bi-annually; along with some good EVA hours. It did well for passing clearance for field missions. Humans were starting to blend in and getting out in the galactic mix was always interesting. He'd even picked up some Khelish on the last Citidel scout mission. Jason figured if it all went military he'd probably go along with it than get suckered into a pure desk job. He was an engineer, he needed real questions and problems.. finding them and fixing them fed his soul in a way that was difficult to describe to normal people.
For now his desk job's manager was pouring over his work. His long time friend and direct report line was running through the latest of his more fringe research areas. Actual directives had become scarce in the last year, which had left time for Jason to tear into the finer details of the insane alien construct that floated nearby.
"I'm telling you, Alun, there's a void in there... damn-it, just look at the bloody scans the Asari 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 Presidium ring. And no one even knows they're there."
The silent form of Alun Kinsley leaned forward in the half light. He was the same age as Jason, scratch a few months, although time had weighed heavier on him. Recent familial developments and lack of sleep had carved tiredness over his features. He examined the wall to wall spread of screens, holos and old fashioned hard paper prints pinned to every available surface across the dimmed room.
"Jason.. you need a new hobby mate."
"Argh.. piss off." Jason rubbed his eyes. Their candor was a a trust built on a long history. "You've been working on the same damn pack from Alliance research... you can't tell me everyone missed this-"
"Jace.. 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 the piles of hand annotated schematics and whistled under his breath.
Jason rubbed his temples. It'd been a long twelve months. Twelve god awful months on the Olympic. Who, seven years ago, would 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 Mission. Sure, they'd been to squeeze in active accommodation, labs, a ton of secure-comms and occasionally her own security detail that let him get out on other assignments.
"Have you escalated this yet?"
Jason shrugged an answer. "Please. To whom? Half the supervisors left are bureaucratic morons, the other half are sec-ops wannabes or filing for transfer out of here. The other guys, Jack, Ulys and Piotr are up to their necks in just keeping up with the next Alliance relocation move and mission updates.
Alun nodded. "Good. Good..". He seemed distracted. "Keep it that way."
Jason was surprised. "What the hell do you mean 'Good'?"
"I'll make arrangements.." Alun cut him off with a gesture. "Get this to the people who should know."
Jason couldn't really ask for more. He sighed, shifting mental gear and relaxing now that work was technically over. "How are you guys settling in on the station?"
Alun and Jean had been mainstays of his friendship network he'd known since before they'd even graduated on Earth. The two of them had been a couple for as long as he'd known them. Admittedly it'd taken Jean a few years to make Alun aware of this fact. They were a good match. The recent upending and reshuffle of work and politics had seen colleagues scattered between here and the Arcturus station. The two of them still being around had kept a semblance of familiarity.
Jean had recently taken up an Embassy mission role very much outside the INSIGHT team. The first of them to do so.
The looming breakup of the team had kept Alun distracted. He'd recently accepted a transfer too and was counting down the days till moving out to the Citadel-based team. Jason was not looking forward to his looming reassignment, probably back to Arcturus. He wasn't keen on the Citadel, even with its big apartments in the new Alliance district funded by the human mission. Jean and Alun had a good one. He didn't begrudge them for the decisions, but he didn't envy them either.
"Jean is prepping a bit of a do at the new place next Friday. She wanted you to know that you're expected."
Jason grinned. "Time?"
— * —
Jason 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." He grinned, returning the warm reception before glancing quickly at the chrono on his 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 was through the unending joys of Jean and Alun having a rambunctious near one year old. Which was the other reason for them wanting a more permanent home station. Suffice to say the three friends were overdue for a simple convivial meetup.
The three were sitting in the vast lounge after dinner. The chaos and amusement of the evening now waning in the late hours of the Citadels' artificial night cycle. Jason relaxed with a glass of something golden brown and far too alcoholic in a hand. Listening quietly while they filled him 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."
Jason stared out of the window that overlooked the vast length of the space station's 25 km long ward arm 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 Jace?" Alun grinned.
"Fine.. just had a mental picture of the brass 'entertaining' the idea."
Jean shook her head in agreement. "That's not going to happen."
Jason dabbed at the spots down his shirt. "So.. the definition of a 'political win' is entirely missing that the galactic council is effectively fully absolving themselves of the burden in policing a potentially rogue state that is in our backyard." He shook his head in disbelief. "Nice. So, how exactly do you get a job in the diplomatic corps?"
Alun grinned "You telegraph your wins and bury the rest. Spades are free!"
Jean glowered at him. "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. Giving a pointed look meant to remind him of something.
Alun blinked. "Oh.. Jace.. remember that.. observation."
Jason stared for a second 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."
Jason raised an eyebrow. "Do I look like a suit monkey?"
"Stuff the smartarse commentary Jace, will take months to prep.. you're the one that thinks something is there,". Alun smirked. "-so, I figured you'd be the best person to find what is there. For the mission you're number three on a two man team; the other are Alliance selects, specialists-"
"I'm an Alliance specialist-"
"A different kind." Chimed Jean.
"Marines?"
"Look. Jace.. you know how to look after yourself and read the right side up of a schematic, hopefully..." Alun ignored Jason's eye roll and continued. "But you can't go out there without a viable cover story; which means a team insertion that won't garner unnecessary questions."
"There's a lot of work going on in the vicinity for the approved Alliance fleet support integrations. There's 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 Jason before he grinned as the plan settled in. "Alright.. I'm sorry for ever doubting you."
Alun stalled for a moment before continuing. "No one, listen, Jace.. 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. The Asari are letting us out there because there is a current technical need. This mission is pushing the limits under the radar of the political branch."
Jason frowned as he thought this through which kept running him around in one particular circle. "Just like old times. Which makes me have to ask.. What positions are you two in these days?" He saw the expressions and grinned, shaking his head. "Right.. don't answer that. You two just stay safe."
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."
Jason let out a long breath. "This is not entirely my forte.. As if you aren't already well aware. You know I'm an engineer, an analyst."
"You're also field certified and have more space hours than most people have in a career."
The reference was to his pre study days working at his grandfather's ship breaking yard on Luna. He'd spent nearly a year in a hard suit back then. The things you'll do for money and freedom at 18.
Jean smiled. They both knew his history. "You'll get a fitment instruction within a day 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 Jason had long hoped had been overwritten.
He 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, Alliance stock gear usually built by the lowest bidder.. that said.. this didn't feel cheap. Nor did it feel like stock.
The quartermaster read his mind. "Its a prototype.. quite a lot of the core design may eventually appear in standard issue."
"It's definitely not as bulky as the standard issue."
"The leanest yet.. a few tricks picked up from our alien friends in the last couple of years is starting to see production." The quartermaster smirked before continuing. "This loadout is not spec'd for heavyplate armor. It's a bit of a mixed bag. You've got medium and light plates for basic protection but more of the light. This is designed for agility. You've also got the new council compatible mounts, an integrated prototype shield harness - in basic configuration - and this."
Jason extended a black and gray gauntleted hand to receive the offered item.
He 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. Jason 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 a chest or arm access port-"
"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. Jason raised a visor hidden eyebrow. Military formality was really creeping in.
The door slid closed as Alun placed the pad down on a steel equipment trolley with a click. "All good?" He asked.
Jason nodded and shifted, pulling himself upright to feel the suit flexing; musing at the extra few inches of height advantage that it gave. He was normally just 2 inches over Alun's 6 foot build, now he loomed.
Alun stared into his cup as he swirled the 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.
Jason stopped himself as the cards fell into place and he just nodded. He reached out for the pad and scanned its terse content before Alun then 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 shit again? I'm OUT of that Alun or is it Coeus." Alun's sharp brown eyes snapped up from their fixture on the cup. "Fuck, Al.. and so were you. This is sounding a lot like it's some sort of black ops bullshit. I'm an Alliance specialist, an engineer and a civilian. These pretend Titan bullshit days are far behind."
Alun's drew another sip from the mug before adding, "It cost a lot to set this up Jace."
Jason glared back. "Okay. okay. Fine. I'm going along with this for my work. That's it." He nodded toward the closed door that led to the corridor beyond. "I'll just need to get my notes.. I've a journal-"
Alun raised a hand to cut him off. "No. There isn't time. 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 immediately knowing the surprised glare Jason shot him.
"It's orders." Alun pulled another swig from his coffee. "If anything happens there'll be no record. The Alliance needs to make sure it's nose is clean if anything goes pear shaped in what is supposed to be a construction survey."
"On the most advanced, complex, massive and very alien space station in the known galaxy-". Jason half sing-songed in parroted irritation. "So what."
"-That you want to cut a hole into."
"It's trivial." I flat toned before compartmentalisating. "Barely a scratch and those creepy keepers will probably patch it before anyone notices. 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 still your find, and you're the only one in the department who has non spec EVA experience and did Alliance basic-"
"What? .. yeah as a fucking kid working in a breakers yard for credits. And what do you mean 'basic'? That was a decade ago! Before throwing it in for college and career."
Alun shrugged, "it all 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. And Alun?" He looked up. "Don't use our friendship to excuse decisions you won't admit are being made for you by them. I know you and Jean have been navigating a very different world from the labs back on Arcturus. I'm not blind to the quiet reshuffles.. gods. 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. It was there, but his heart wasn't in it.
Jason frowned. Something more was going on. "Screw you.. You know I don't believe in that crap. I'll go with: riskier.. it begs ripping open to see what makes it tick-"
"That's why you're on this."
Jason stared him down. He'd enough history with Alun that he could pick up undercurrents that his friend was avoiding. "What's in the vial?"
The fraction delay pricked at Jason's attention.
"Contingency." Alun eventually said.
Jason suddenly felt cold. He looked at his arm tapping at the small compartment that was now pointedly locked from his control. "Yours?". He shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not sure if I should feel worried or comforted."
"Jace." Alun face was carefully blank. "I'm sorry. It's not my call. They wanted assurances."
Jason let out a long pursed breath. "Fuck, Alun." He shook his head. "We all got out together, years ago.. Because of this particular type of shit..." A thought pinged. Jason scowled.. "Why? How did they get to you?"
He looked up, his eyes distant. ".. Leto."
Fuck..
Jason bit his lip as he watched his friend carefully. "You know this can go two ways.. right here.. now. I'm literally in an armored power suit.. good luck them fucking stopping me."
The problem that loomed large was that the both knew how it would end. The Titans were deluded and dangerous if they would revert to using blackmail. Fuck, to force parents by threatening a child.
"No, it won't." Alun didn't look up, his focus entirely on the mug in hand. "They want you on this. It's from the top. Jace. Please."
"Fuck Alun." Jason bit his lip. "Fine, I'll play. Last jaunt.. Hear that, Cronus?" He pointedly spoke to the room at large where the mastermind behind what he had spent years of his life beleive in was doubtlessly listening through a bug. The Titans. A formerly well intended alliance of well placed influencers turned manipulative bastards. He sighed. Jason had thought they'd shown their true colours years ago, which is why he left. Clearly they had found a new low..
"And then I am done. Damn it.. I was over this years ago." Jason glared at Alun. "I'll trust that everything you're not saying is in good intent."
The silence endured. Jason eventually broke it himself. "You're not a bastard, Alun. I know who is at fault. Tell Jean I understand."
Jason stood up, flipping the visor down as he drew to the armor's full height.
Something else worrying crept to his attention that had been scratching at his mind; with the Titian's involvement it made more sense. "Damn it. They're going to owe ten fold for this." He flicked the side of the visor, which made a dull thuck sound. "It's hard to forget your own work. I can tell this suit uses biolock tech. I worked on it for three years on Arcturus. It was canned for a good reason when it takes needing to cutting the wearer from the suit if there's a core failure. Fuck.. This almost feels like it's meant to be a one way mission. Good thing it's just reconn.."
Alun frowned.
The broadcast intercom crackled to life. "Specialist Willman to airlock six. Specialist Whilstone to airlock six."
"I guess that's me.. I'll let you know when I get back. We've words with Cronus and Rhea. This has to end Alun. For all our sake."
"I'll be here when you get back.. Jean too." Alun raised his coffee in a half hearted salute as the door began sliding shut. "Godspeed."
— * —
Jasom stumped into the Kodiak. Ducking instinctively under the bulkhead with now standing a hand under the hatch hight. 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 Willman?" 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.
Jason thought for a moment. "Jason.. or just Jace.. C at a push. 'Specialist' and 'Willman' 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.
Jason chuckled at the literal and patently off the cuff adoptions, "Glad to hear, if we're doing pseudonyms then Arc.." Jason 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 the 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.
Jason keyed the first ID code that had come to mind. The small lock scanner went dark as the latches snapped open. Jason stared and whistled under his breath at what could only be the pointed handiwork of two very, very serious friends..
The Lt swore under his breath. "Old school, sir?"
Jason hefted the five foot long, inch and a half diameter tube, with one hand. Years of heat cycles leaving weaves of color over the dark metal shell. It was heavy. The suit adjusted to augment the force required to wield the tool.
"Holy crap.. I thought those were banned.."
Jason 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." Jason looked around the confined space of the Kodiak. "And No.. I'm definately not going to light it in here.. that would be suicidal.
"Shouldn't they all have been decommissioned?"
Jason shook my head. "Almost impossible to do so..". He 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. The metals get really close to indestructible. It's 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"
Jason nodded in reflective understanding. "Can't say I wouldn't do the same.."His 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 coming along for an airing, we'll be in deep shit if I have to remember how my grandfather used to use the thing.. that's a Joke.. he did 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."
Jason pulled up the suit's 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. jalm 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. He 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."
Jason 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...". Jason swore under his breath wondering what other surprises Alun and Jean had snuck under the radar.
He barely registered the tail end of the Lt muttering. "-gineer.. my ass.."
"Sparks?"
"Nothing, sir."
Jason waited as the passive scanner built up a map of the vicinity; eventually capturing enough detail that it looked at least vaguely familiar. He 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!"
Jason felt the vibration before he 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.
Jason 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?"
"-!"
"Lieutenant 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." Jason 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?"
Jason 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 Jason the rear after he pointed the direction.
"Uhm.. Spe-.. C, sir. Uhm.. problem."
Jason padded past the Lt, discovering the Corporal's concern for myself as his 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. He dropped down to one knee and ran a hand over the non-compliant surface. An immediate prickle running up his arm as he 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. Jasonleaned back, shaking off a whole body shudder as it felt like a static shock grounded straight through him.
HUD: transitory fault cleared. mimic: reset.
The Lt joined the line out. "Problem?"
Jason swallowed the sinking anticipation in his 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 in fact now here."
"We've got to get inside." He stared thoughtfully at the outwardly normal and enormously flat hull plate.
"I could try pry a hole next to 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..". Jason 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 the field out or invert the polarity for an instant cleanup. But this, this isn't metal. The field here is fake because there isn't metal.. it's just copying the surrounding charge to look the same."
Jason pulled up the sensor logs from my interaction and filtered the spurious readings, letting the suit's processor do some actual work..
Damn 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?"
Jason looked at the Lt and shook his head. "No, of course not-" Jason paused as a result prompt pinged into his HUD.. a single eV number. He grinned, not that anyone could see him grin, but him knowing he was meant be 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?"
Jason 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?"
Jason 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 powerbatteries from capacitors, route radiant energy absorption = capacitors, enable radiant charging: nolimit.
Jason 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, Jason 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. . . .
Jason 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 Jason was not privy to suddenly saw the Lt and the Corporal pull pistols from harnesses he'd written off as heavy plating. The weapons unfolded, expanding in a fraction of a second in a suddenly worrying development. On reflection he wondered why he'd not anticipated it.
"Sparks?" Jason 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?"
Jason 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", Jason cautioned, watching as the two split off to do whatever 'securing the area' ment in a demonstrably long abandoned space. He shrugged off the incongruence to turn to my own interests.
HUD: passive scan..
Jason 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. He 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. More like soot.
The lighting blinked, left first then right. Jason couldn't hear them but he felt the staggered break in foot falls through the deck plate. He 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. Jason frowned, looking up at a huge protuberance that rose from what was possibly the center of the void. ".. phased array, concentrator.. tuneable mirror and-". He 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?"
Jason 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.
Jasonchuckled. "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?" Jason shook his head. "We're on a closed channel."
The Corporal called clear, Wray followed suit a few hesitant seconds later.
Jason 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?" Jason 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-"
Jason patted him on the shoulder. "-nothing. We're on an open intercom. Bury it."
The man stalled for a second. He 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. Jason 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 took a minute to rest and orient themselves.
Jason 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, Jason 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..." Jason had counted under his breath. Timing the interval between each emergent pulse. The scanners still read clear, so he 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.
He 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 Jason's wrist, yanking him back, away from the writhing sphere, to fall with a flailing grasp barely on the edge of the barrierless walkway.
Four seconds.
Jason shook his head as he 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."
Jason looked up, at the soldier and behind him toward the placidly pulsing spheres. "Fucking hell.." he scrambled up. "Give me something.. anything.. preferably useless."
A spare armor plate was offered.
"Good enough."
Jason 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. "Thats a mean way to go.."
Jason frowned "I.. 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 morphed 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.
Jason shouted as he stumbled to redirect his 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-?". Jason 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 he could only vaguely make out the shape within the helmet from the little light of the eerie glow.
The helmet shook slightly side to side. One hand slowly reached out to grasp Jason's wrist as the other forced something into my hand and closed my fingers over it. Thoroughly confused, Jason looked back up. The helmet shook again as the Lt slow motion two-hand punched him in the middle of the chest. Pushing him away as the Lt wrapped his arms over his head and curled up as best as one could in heavy armor.
"Fuck.. what? No.. damnit.. No!"
The explosion was dampened. Muted by the quick effort of the man. Jason could only look away before the few collisions impacted in gut punches of even more energy. Seconds later something rammed into his back.
Hard.
Jason's ears rang from the hard metallic impact and whiplash without inertial dampening that instantly dazed him. When he came to, he was floating in a slow motion sucker punch, not barrelling along as before. But definitely aware of a backward acceleration as the weak gravity had renewed its grasp.
Jason managed to lean back to see the vanishing length of the hexagonal central pylon tube slowly sinking away segment by segment. He watched it for a time before the gradually increasing speed finally hammered home a deathly chill.
He 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 him internally fumed. "Fucking awesome timing.."
Holding a hand up he 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.
Jason's mind flashed scenarios from hellish temporal gradients to molecular spaghettification. He twisted, trying and failing to generate some -or any- rotation. He was desperate for any glimpse of the oncoming surface. Not being able to see meant an impossible guess on how he'd collide.. and the ensuing collection of horrors to anticipate. Best survivable case? As flat as possible to the surface. Spread eagled it was then.
HUD: prompt [abort, retry, cancel, ignore?]
Screw it.
"Ignore. And damn yo-"
— * —
