Minomii, Cassandrian Front - 622.2 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

　　Memory restriction imposed!

　　General Fleet Access One required to visualize memory element.

　　Quarantine imposed.

　　Quarantine bypassed.

　　"Releasing manual supervision," Lieutenant Gyan said. "Elcy has command."

　　"Confirmed," Augustus said, focusing on his personal screen. With that, I had complete control of the mission until I received an overriding command.

　　"Thirty-four seconds until breach," I informed the bridge. "Approach vector acceptable, fleet perimeter holding."

　　Minomii fleet, expect Cassandrian reinforcements, Astral Vision said in the standard comm channel. Comm protocols identified her as a fleet scout ship. ETA under an hour.

　　That`s a bit vague, Light Guardian noted. Any specifics you can give us?

　　That`s all I have, Astral replied. Brace yourselves.

　　I ran a check of all ships in the system. Astral Vision wasn`t among them. In all likelihood, she was a dark reconnaissance vessel sending a constant flow of information from a point in the combat buffer zone.

　　"Got that, Wilco?" Augustus barked. "You got thirty minutes."

　　"Can`t do it in that much, cap`n," Wilco said from his hangar shuttle. Fifty-nine additional shuttles also stood ready, filled with veteran ground troops. "Will give it a go."

　　"Fifteen seconds to breach," I announced, posting timers on the walls of halls and corridors throughout my decks. "Starting launch sequence."

　　A volley of missiles came my way, filling the space between me and the advanced Gharotta ship. Immediately, I launched all available countermeasures as well as a series of missiles of my own.

　　"Impact in fifteen seconds!" I ran a thousand parallel simulations. In the best-case scenario, I would suffer heavy damage throughout the lateral side of my hull, sealing off large sections of seventy-two decks. Casualties were estimated above twenty-five thousand, along with the destruction of three of my auxiliary cores. None of the options were good. "Emergency launch!"

　　I adjusted the attack vectors of the breach shuttles. The missiles I`d fired had already created a safe path the shuttles could slipstream on. As long as that happened, I could ignore personal damage& and the following losses.

　　"Escape pods ready, captain," I said on the bridge. "I`ll announce the exact time window after impact."

　　I`ll likely force shutdown before the end of my mission, I announced on the fleet comm channel. Can anyone collect my command staff and the breach force? This is a Priority One assigned mission.

　　Heading your way, frigate Lion`s Glow said. Nineteen minutes away. I`ve enough space to hold them. Can you last that long?

　　Odds are low. I reran the simulations. In that amount of time, I would likely have suffered crippling damage. It was uncertain I would be able to maintain life support throughout all decks.

　　"Cannibalize escape pods," Augustus ordered. Despite the alarms and flashing screens, everyone on the bridge went still. "No one`s leaving this ship."

　　"Brace for impact!" I made a ship-wide announcement. A second later, the first missiles hit.

　　Missile impact was different for me than it was for humans. Rookies thought of it as bullets piercing a body, but in truth it was nowhere similar. When the first hit the side of my hull, it exploded on impact, scraping off layers of the outer coating. It was a sloppy, desperate attack, executed with little thought. Three more blasts followed, then seven. I shook, pushed back by the inertia as my hull was breached in three spots. Internal shock reduction protocols did little good, throwing people against walls. Waves of flatlines came in—one thousand nine hundred and twenty-two, all in the affected section. Based on bio readings, thousands would follow in the minutes to come.

　　"Sealing sections of decks twenty-five to thirty, seventy-one and two, and eighty-three to eighty-five." I dispersed my med bots, while starting repairs in the affected areas. "Casualties exceed two thousand."

　　Two people on the bridge were unconscious, though injuries were not critical. Med bots were already injecting them with sedatives and emergency nanites. Augustus, though, remained buckled in the captain`s seat, more concerned with the state of the breach shuttles than me.

　　"I still suggest you leave the ship, captain," I said. "The odds of surviving another volley are under three percent." I ran the odds. "Two fleet ships are on their way here to continue the mission."

　　"Seal all decks!" the captain ordered, pain audible in his voice. "Boost towards the target, full speed."

　　"Sir, ramming will be inefficient." Several Cassandrian ships had managed to brute force their way through the fleet`s safety perimeter. Their movement vectors suggested they had me as their target.

　　"Obey, rookie!" Augustus barked. "And stop the damned alarms!"

　　I immediately cut all warning sounds.

　　In the fleet channel, all remaining ships were exchanging strategy and damage information. Several ships had performed mass evacuations before self-destructing. Shuttles and escape pods filled parts of the system, like swarms waiting to be scooped up by the ships that survived. Less than thirty percent were likely to make it.

　　"Full speed, sir." I propelled myself forward. Augustus was probably gambling that the Cassandrian ship had launched all its missiles and was vulnerable to attack—a valid prediction given the enemy, though not one I would have made. "Estimated losses are likely to outweigh the overall gains."

　　The captain grumbled, but added nothing. His body language indicated that he didn`t agree but was focusing on something more important.

　　Breach ships, an unidentified participant said with Admiral-level authority. What`s your status?

　　Beta breach successful, Voluminous Glow transmitted. I`ll need cover for fifty minutes.

　　Alpha breach underway, Silver Sky transmitted.

　　Epsilon breach underway, I added. There was a moment`s hesitation whether I should share my success estimates. Ultimately, I didn`t. My captain had more experience to judge.

　　Gamma breach delayed, frigate Astral Blade transmitted. She had had half of her cores destroyed, with the chances of a final shutdown in the next five minutes being over seventy percent.

　　Eta breach underway, Flame Chalice transmitted.

　　There were no further responses. The remaining three missions had already failed. The overall odds of success weren`t looking overly good. Given the circumstances, the optimal course of action was to order a general withdrawal and diminish our losses. From experience, I knew that wouldn`t happen. If Command wanted us gone, we would have been long ago.

　　Proceed with missions, the ghost participant ordered. Send status updates every minute. Boarding teams have full operational control.

　　Understood, I said along with the rest.

　　From this point on, Wilco was responsible for everything aboard even while being kilometers away.

　　"How many dead?" Augustus asked.

　　"Casualty count has exceeded three thousand," I reported. "Estimate it might reach mid five. I`ve sent out all medbots. Constructing more." From the pods you had me cannibalize.

　　"Arm the grunts," the captain ordered. "Full combat gear."

　　"There`s no indication we`re likely to be boarded, captain." I ran a new set of simulations. Even in a worse case scenario, the chance was under half a percent.

　　"Allocate them around the hangars and all key areas," Augustus ignored me. "And monitor everything they do. From here on, privacy mode protocols don`t apply."

　　* * *

　　"Status report!" I stood up. "Gregorius?"

　　Everyone`s in battle readiness, Incandescent informed me directly. Mass anomalies found in system. Non-essential personnel are on lockdown.

　　A holster lay on the floor a step away. I attached it to my waist and tucked the gun inside. Reviewing my recent memories, I had another hour missing. Taking ten milliseconds, I went through all the backup storage areas in my core. There was nothing there either, as if the hour had been completely sliced out of existence. That made it the second time this had happened.

　　"Scuu?" I stepped towards the exit. The door slid aside as I did. Seemed like I was on the approved list.

　　Unknown.

　　Half a dozen cadets were in the corridor when I went out, staring at me as scared as children during an earthquake.

　　"Ma`am?" one of them addressed me. "What—"

　　"Back to your quarters!" I shouted. "Gregorius, temporary unlock."

　　The front two cadets said nothing, but I could see their eyes focusing on my weapon. Not the best way I would have wanted the information to be spread, but there was nothing I could do about it now.

　　Give me a location of all cadets, I told Incandescent. Ignore privacy mode protocols.

　　An info burst hit me. The majority of the cadets were safely within the cadet building, with a few more in the admin section of the ship. Thankfully, all were safe, if the data could be believed. In addition, Incandescent had sent me the locations of all security teams and grunt platoons. The pattern was immediately recognizable—boarding countermeasures.

　　What is our boarding risk factor? I asked.

　　Low. That`s not the issue. Flight Colonel Cension has requested you immediately in the admin building.

　　"On my way." I waited a few seconds to make sure that the cadets had gone in their quarters, then ran down the stairs. "I haven`t received any call notifications." Unless they`d happened in the last hour. "When did he call me exactly?"

　　Direct calls are forbidden. Incandescent stated with deliberate concern. Emergency security protocol. I`m handling communication.

　　"Right." That never was a good sign. The only times I had been ordered to impose full internal communication lockdown was when there was a danger of mutiny. It seemed that the captain was more worried about a threat coming from the inside than external boarding.

　　I`ve set a path. You won`t be stopped.

　　What about the weapon?

　　It`s fine. You`ve been approved.

　　The transport pod was waiting for me when I left the building. I took one final look around, more out of habit, then stepped inside.

　　Rad, I transmitted using wartime protocols. What`s your status?

　　There was a five percent chance that my communication would go through. I expected to receive a standard subroutine reply informing me that I didn`t have the authority to establish a comm connection. Against the odds, Radiance`s comm protocols responded.

　　Hey, I didn`t know you could use these! The auxiliary ship responded. Always so sneaky, grandma.

　　Please don`t call me that, I thought.

　　I`m at full battle stations. Been sent to evaluate potential targets. If my cap learns you`re talking to me, he`ll be really pissed. She laughed.

　　Reminded me of Aurie`s "illegal" chats during missions. Technically, there was no requirement to inform the captain regarding any ship-to-ship communication. The speed of information exchanged by ships made it vastly impractical. Still, it was encouraged to inform the bridge of any unexpected external communications. Gibraltar had been a stickler for that, requesting me to send a log of all my communications for his personal usage. Until recently, I thought he was merely being thorough. Knowing what I knew now, I suspected he was more concerned with risks to his career than anything else. It remained difficult to tell. Gibraltar knew the system far too well for his own good. It was still a pity he cut off all communication after my Arbitration. Given the chance, I would still have liked to have kept in touch.

　　Details, Rad, I reminded. Can you send me a scan of the system?

　　Way beyond your access level. She sent a virtual smirk. Single star system, three planets, some grav anomalies, some asteroids, some suspected ships. Her voice didn`t change, but I estimated that she had to be slightly tense when she said the last bit. We only have system mass models, so no one knows what we`re dealing with. No signals, no electronics, nothing much& just like that last time.

　　Focus on your orders and your captain. The rest will fall in place.

　　I rarely did that lately. Hopefully, Radiance had shielded herself from my bad influence. I wanted to know more about the system, though, both from a strategic aspect as well as a sense of curiosity.

　　I`ve been called to some meeting. Likely blackbox again, considering who had invited me. Interesting that Everar hadn`t made an attempt to get in touch. Follow the odds, and I`ll hear you back when I`m done.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author`s consent. Report any sightings.

　　Take care, grandma. Radiance sent a virtual smile, then severed the connection. Some things never changed.

　　Incandescent, has Commander Everar tried to get in touch with me? I asked as the pod approached the administration building.

　　Just the Flight Commander, he replied, preventing several of my subsequent questions. Bioengineering has been temporarily closed down.

　　Of course, it would have. No one would risk a suicide wave to destroy the ship`s food supply.

　　Four security teams were on active duty in front of the administration building`s entrance. None of them reacted as I walked past, despite my pistol being openly visible. The inside of the building was vastly empty—all bureaucrats and civilians were restricted to specially designated areas as safety protocols demanded. A few lieutenants ran past me up the massive staircase, hurrying to where they had been ordered to. The moment my foot touched the first step, a green line appeared, leading to where I was supposed to be.

　　Subtle. I followed.

　　After the second flight of stairs, I turned left, entering one of the large corridors, then right again until I reached a black wall. A single guard stood there in advanced combat gear.

　　"Senior Cadet Elcy, reporting as ordered," I quickly said. The guard glanced in my direction, then gesticulated for me to go on. An entrance opened in the wall next to him moments later.

　　Standard restriction rules? I asked Incandescent as I walked in.

　　Same drill, the ship replied. Thankfully, I didn`t get reminded by a subroutine this time. By all accounts, I was rising up in the chain of command& and that worried me. It had been my long-lasting experience only to receive things when the fleet wanted even more in return.

　　"Elcy." Juul waved from the front row the moment I entered the hall. "Here."

　　I nodded and headed in his direction. The room was filled with people like last time, though most of them were low-ranking. Apart from Juul and the Flight Colonel in charge of security, the rest ranged from Lieutenants to Majors, as well as the occasional unranked specialist.

　　Several people paused as I passed by, my purple uniform in contrast with the bluish greenness of the room. As adjutant, Juul too was in a pale blue set of clothes, his insignia openly visible, making me the only person who stood out.

　　"Flight Colonel." I saluted as I got near.

　　"Cadet." He gave me a dismissive nod and turned to Juul. "Is she up to date?"

　　"Not at present," Juul replied. I noted he had dropped the obligatory "sir" on the end.

　　"The briefing will have to handle that," Flight Colonel Cension muttered. "Nothing goes out of this room."

　　"I know the drill, sir," I replied.

　　"Not even with us," Juul added. "Until the captain drops the restriction, all info is quarantined." He looked me straight in the eye. "You will not be."

　　"Sir?"

　　"We`ll need you at full capacity at this. Top orders." He didn`t sound too pleased about it. "The memories of your rescue mission will be unrestricted."

　　"Thank you, sir." That particular segment was already unrestricted, but the gesture was noted.

　　Looking around, I could see that Kridib and Flight Colonel Nitel weren`t among those present. Incandescent hadn`t given me his location before I arrived here, suggesting there was a large chance he was onboard one of the auxiliary ships.

　　Mission briefing underway!

　　A single message appeared on the wall behind the podium, written in large red block letters. The moment it did, the hubbub started dying down. People rushed to take their seats, as a youngish captain—twenty-seven, according to her personnel file—made her way to the podium.

　　"Flight Colonel," she said, addressing the highest-ranking officer as military protocol dictated. "We`re still awaiting for visual confirmation from the auxiliary fleet, but according to probe data visuals, we`ve found a fleet."

　　A series of images appeared behind her, all with top secret markings in the upper right corner. The first image had a series of distant objects in line formation. Enhanced colors marked the surrounding area, making them distinguishable for the human eye. The next two images had similar shots, displaying the formation from different angles.

　　"The Pearl Cluster," the lieutenant said. "Preliminary probe data has them on the edge of the debris field. Initially, we suspected they might be a protective force, but on closer examination, it turned out that they are nothing but large debris."

　　A new image appeared focusing on one of the objects. Almost immediately whispers filled the hall. From this distance, the details of the object could easily be made out—an unmistakable part of a ship`s hull. Running a pattern recognition logarithm, I made an approximate model of the ship it originated from& a fleet-produced ship.

　　"Analysis suggests that this is a Shield 21C hull fragment." An image of a Shield ship appeared on the screen.

　　For the faintest of moments, I felt a rush of excitement. Not only was I looking at an unclassified image of a Shield, I was aware that the fragment was in the very same system I was in. Retrieving the fragment alone would make the Salvage authorities send a fleet to reclaim it. Knowing there were at least half a dozen more was enough to make the entire organization engage in a bureaucracy war with other elements of the fleet.

　　"We have kept the probes from advancing beyond this point, but it appears the remaining eight objects are also Shield fragments of similar size."

　　I stopped any other simulations I was running. The large chunks weren`t the only ship fragments visible. If a flotilla had been sent to this system, there had to be dozens at least, possibly hundreds& all part of the debris field.

　　"We estimate that anywhere between eleven hundred and three thousand other ships have been scattered in orbit around the second planet." There was a slight pause followed by a wide video feed of the system. "The debris field is spread equally along a perfect plane around the planet. The reason for this anomaly remains unknown, but there`s evidence that—"

　　Time froze in my core, but it wasn`t the presence of Shield debris or the anomalous nature of the field that had triggered it. Near the upper edge of the video image, no larger than a speck of dust, was a star which I recognized. From here, I was only able to see the optical light of its spectrum, but it still was a partial match of a star I had seen before& inside the fractal space of a third-contact dome&

　　* * *

　　Fractal Space, Third-Contact Artifact, System Unknown

　　"Regora," a series of noises boomed, soundwaves echoing around me like ripples in a pond. To the human ear, they might have been mistaken for a normal word, but my core helped me see beyond that. Visualizing the frequency of each sound, a pattern emerged—the image of a fractal segment. For the first time in my existence, I had witnessed third-contact speech. Or was it the first time?

　　What are you telling me?

　　I went through the memory once more, this time superimposing every echo instance over the initial fractal. As I expected, the segment blossomed. Whatever the third-contact race were, they thought and spoke in three dimensions as well.

　　"Regora," echoed the sounds once more.

　　Holding onto the invisible cube, I twisted my body, trying to float further up. The exerted pressure prevented me from budging forward.

　　"Regora."

　　Three perfectly identical combinations of sounds, each four milliseconds apart. According to the unredacted directives of the pre-first-contact alien encounter files, it was speculated that an exchange of greetings would take place. The greetings were specified to be "an exchange of universal variables" to allow communication. Prime numbers, atomic numbers, and protein sequences had been given as potential examples. In this case, it was the alien entity attempting to establish communication, and it was using sound.

　　Am I the first one you`ve said this to?

　　The alien contact protocols had gone through heavy revisions since humanity had stumbled upon the Scuu. A few centuries later, the same thing had happened with the Cassandrians. Could all the wars be due to a miscommunication during the initial communication exchange?

　　"Regora."

　　"Regora," I said, attempting to mimic the sound best I could.

　　Fractals burst all around me once more, cutting through the surrounding whiteness. Sixteen milliseconds later, a minuscule cobalt rod appeared in front of me. The size of my little finger, it moved around along all three axes.

　　"Regora." Echoes merged with one another, creating a new fractal pattern.

　　The rod divided in two, then four, eight, sixteen, going all the way to four thousand ninety-six. Upon reaching that number, the rods folded in on themselves, outlining a perfect sphere. Milliseconds later, the rows divided twice more, creating four spherical outlines. A gleaming cobalt surface formed around them, enclosing the rows like a shell. At that moment, I instantly knew what a "Regora" was—I was floating inside of one.

　　"I`ve established verbal third-contact," I said clearly, for the suit to record my observations. Court-martialed or not, the information was still going to benefit humanity. Although, for some reason, I found myself yearning that it would be useful for me as well. A vague question was starting to form in my mind, like a shadow flickering on a watery surface.

　　"The seven-sided star appears to be the key to starting the contact information exchange," I said. "From what I can determine, the unknown race communicates with fractals. The sound combination Regora`—"I changed the tonality of the sounds so I wouldn`t trigger anything else. "—along with echoes of itself seem to refer to the known third-contact artifacts. It appears that the time between the original sound cluster and the first of its echoes determines the type of artifact. A two-millisecond period stands for the small rod type artifacts, and four-milliseconds represents the spheres."

　　Let`s see how far the artifact chain goes. "Regora," I repeated.

　　The sphere divided into five—one in the center and one at each of the four cardinal directions. Four more appeared, creating an external ring of eight, just like the complex I had discovered on the planet. Six more spheres appeared, completing a parallel ring. Moments after that, twelve more spheres emerged, forming a perfect sphere cluster of twenty-seven.

　　"Regora." There was an eight-millisecond delay, all as predicted.

　　This was to be the next element in the chain, suggesting that what I`d found on the planet was only partially complete. The real thing had to be somewhere else out there. It was going to take the BICEFI a while before they found it.

　　The sphere shrank in size. I was expecting a new shell to materialize around it, creating a second sphere. Instead, the cluster split in four, each sphere travelling in a different direction. Suddenly, they stopped at perfectly equal distances from each other.

　　That`s new.

　　In my mind, I saw the points of an invisible pyramid waiting to form. This was the basis of a multitude of theoretical n-dimensional space constructions. I started running simulations predicting what I`d expect. Barely had I done so when all four clusters exploded into copies of themselves. Spirals of sphere clusters burst in all directions, filling the space along incomprehensible lines. I stopped my previous simulations in an attempt to recognize the pattern, but the calculations were beyond me. All I could do was watch as a fractal-based web of invisible connections grew around me.

　　"Jigora," a new sound cluster echoed.

　　I felt a chill in my stomach, one I had never experienced in my entire existence. If the BICEFI found out about this, there was no telling how they`d react. Up to now, I had assumed that the BICEFI`s purpose was to amass third-contact artifacts to use as weapons. What if I was wrong? Based on Lux`s snippets of information, the organization`s priorities seemed to have shifted. They weren`t amassing the domes to destroy them; they were collecting them to complete the sequence.

　　"Jigora," I said.

　　More and more clusters kept appearing, turning the white surroundings grey.

　　"Jigora," I repeated.

　　Spheres continued appearing, filling what pockets of whiteness remained until only pinpricks remained. Then, without warning, they ceased.

　　What are you trying to tell me? Would I understand?

　　I looked back at the memory after I had activated the cube. It had started with visual fractals, followed by sound ones. Once I had responded, I was shown a rod artifact and a sphere, both of which I had to have seen in order to have started this entire process. The "Jigora" that followed was beyond my current understanding, though it was possible that that was the point.

　　"An eight-millisecond delay corresponds to a full cluster of twenty-seven spheres," I said. "As of yet, there`s been no indication that spheres of various sizes exist." Leading to questions about why the one here was different. "There`s no evidence of additional shapes or composites. I shall try to confirm it by using the suit`s audio system to mimic the echo effect of the sounds."

　　"Regora." I set the suit`s system to superimpose echoes of the word every two milliseconds. Once I had superimposed eight fake echoes, I attempted the same with a pause of three milliseconds, then four, five, six, seven, and finally eight.

　　Gripping tight on the invisible cube, I twisted it ninety degrees counter-clockwise, then let it go. A strong vibration resonated through my body, pushing me back. One instant I was floating, surrounded by greyness, and the next—the space around me exploded, pushing all matter back, like a growing bubble with me at its center.

　　Warnings covered my visor, shifting from orange to yellow to orange and finally red. Standard messages gave way to random code symbols, which in turn were reduced to pixels flickering at random.

　　"Clear visor," I ordered.

　　At first, I could see nothing but perfect darkness, as if I had been stranded in interstellar space. Then a single light emerged. It was small, no larger than a dot, but I was able to see it clearly. As I watched, the dot changed from white to a yellowish red. Still, there was something familiar about it. Tilting forward, I ran a match algorithm through all my unrestricted memories. For a few seconds, I went through my initial combat training, my first campaign, the thousands of battles I`d been in& until I found it.

　　The light was a star. I had seen its unique stellar spectrum during a dark mission on the Cassandrian front. The exact time and location had been restricted, making it impossible to pinpoint, but providing firm evidence that it existed.

　　I swam towards the dot. Despite my best efforts, however, the star didn`t come closer. With every stroke, new dots of light emerged, while the one I was pursuing remained just as far. Every now and again I`d match another dot with a star I`d seen, some close, some distant, one even on the edge of human space. They flowed past me as I swam on, set on my target.

　　Seventeen seconds later I stopped. Augustus had often said that nothing in war is easy, and he also taught me what to do when faced with an unachievable goal; the secret was to find a goal I could reach, a goal that was as close as possible to the original. Looking around, I pinpointed another light dot I had identified and swam to it. By the time I reached it, a quarter of the other lights had faded away.

　　I see. I smiled. This was what it was all about. The artifacts, the domes, the message, all of it. The dome was a map!

　　Slowly, I spun in place, taking in a three-sixty view of my surroundings. Fifty-seven lights were visible in the darkness, three of which I could identify as stars, all on the Cassandrian front. Locking on the prime star—the first that the sphere had shown me—I swam forward. Stars started reappearing once more. Within five seconds, there were a hundred and sixteen of them; another five seconds later, the number had jumped to two seventy. Several times, I made attempts to triangulate my position, but each time I moved, the location changed. The third-contact race`s understanding of space was vastly different than what I was used to.

　　Twenty-one seconds later, after peaking at five hundred and eleven, the number of stars began to diminish. Immediately, I made a ninety-degree turn and continued swimming. The stars continued to diminish for a while, before suddenly spiking up again.

　　Approach vectors, I thought.

　　The BICEFI would have probably loved to have those, and once I was done here, they would. I considered whether it was worthwhile to record my discovery in the suit`s system. There was no doubt that the information would be classified away, but there was a faint possibility that some other organization within the fleet would find out; if we were about to go to war with this race, that might be a good thing.

　　The second vector ended after less than four seconds, directing me towards a white dwarf. By now the prime star had disappeared, suggesting I was going on a one-way journey. At this point, I couldn`t tell whether this was part of the learning process, or if it had to do with the third-contact race`s method of travel. Theoretical physics was full of n-dimensional formulas, most of them essential for humanity to reach its current technological level. However, only in the extreme fringe sciences was there talk of four-dimensional beings. According to the Wezniak-Lemm paradox, interaction between sentient species of different dimensions was impossible, since it wouldn`t register in the minds of any of the participants. There was nothing I could say against the theory; it was as solid as they came, managing to survive centuries of scrutiny and reviews. At the same time, such a method of travel would explain a lot—from the inexplicable communication breakdown the small artifacts achieved to the seemingly random locations of the domes. What seemed hundreds of light years apart for me could be a planet away for the third-contact race.

　　More vectors followed, one after the other. After the sixth, the void around me was filled with over fifteen thousand dots of light, enough to create the impression of being in space and also remarkably close to the amount of rod artifacts in the sphere.

　　"Record," I said to my suit as I slowed my pace. "Full audio and video."

　　The last waypoint dot was bright blue, visibly larger than the rest. Unlike all previous markers, this one moved closer as I approached.

　　"Where I`m going, I`m not coming back from," I said. Keeping in mind I`d likely have been court-martialed for disobedience the moment I emerged from the dome, it wouldn`t be a huge loss. "I`m approaching the center of the artifact. Should anything happen to me, I`d like my ward to be taken care of financially." It`s the least you could do while slicing my core open. "Here goes."

　　The instant I arrived at the final dot, there were sixteen-thousand three hundred and eighty-four lights in the darkness. Out of them, I was only able to identify two hundred and seven. For several seconds, they remained, lighting up the inside of the dome, then started flickering out.

　　Show me the message. A long-forgotten feeling of zest swept through me. The last time I felt this was during my initial ship training, eager to be sent to the front.

　　Eight points of light remained spread throughout the darkness, including the final waypoint. For several seconds, I ran and reran stellar spectrum matches with everything I had in my memory, with no result.

　　"That`s a pity." It would have been nice to have locked on at least one of them. Even so, I had a starting point; if I ever saw those stars, I`d be able to recognize them& someone would be able to recognize them. But then what? The map didn`t give any further indications. Eight stars in a sea of billions, even with what I knew would be impossible& unless there weren`t eight to begin with.

　　I looked at the blue star next to me. "The seven-sided star." This was what the cube had been telling me since the beginning. There was only one place in the galaxy from where I`d be able to see these seven particular stars in this alignment—from the place I was meant to reach. As long as I arrived there, I`d be able to confirm the location, and with luck I might even be able to triangulate the position using the seven pointer stars.

　　"Are you the home of fractals?" I reached to touch the blue light. The moment I did, darkness surrounded me.

　　* * *

　　"—it has some significance, possibly a warning sent by the Scuu," the lieutenant continued.

　　"Might be a suicide mark," Juul whispered to the Flight Colonel. "Wouldn`t be the first time they marked their territory. Or the corpses they left behind."

　　"It`s not Scuu," Cension said through the corner of his mouth. "They don`t leave things behind."

　　"Either way, I suggest you get ready for mass mutiny," Juul didn`t appear one bit convinced. "The auxies will check it out. The trick is not to die until then."

　　Multiple conversations continued simultaneously, but I was only passively registering. So many people, all with much greater security clearance than me, and all of them missing the point. The Shield flotilla hadn`t fought the Scuu, it had stumbled into a third-contact system—one close to a fractal star marker.