The day was cool with a light misty rain in the air keeping everything cool. The sky was a cool gray from the clouds that hung low. There was foot traffic as well as ground effect vehicles moving around the city, the lights and holos flashing and moving.

Brentili'ik sighed as she stared out the window. Vuxten and her had always loved to take long walks on days like this. The Overseers had always stayed inside, away from the misty rain, leaving the streets just to the Telkan themselves. It let her take long walks with him, Synthal'la and Ilmata'at, keeping the two broodcarriers between them, enjoying the cool misty rain and the cool day.

She turned slowly and stared at the Telkan who was sitting in the chair, his hands folded in his lap, waiting patiently. Colonel Harvey stood across from him, hands behind his back, feet shoulder width apart, chin lifted and staring at an invisible point in space above the guest's head.

"Who contacted you and how?" Brentili'ik asked.

The Telkan, a male by the name of Shulkek, made a non-committal gesture. "Someone I met on the Gal-Net section of the Sol-Net/Gal-Net combined hub."

"And you're sure that the package is legitimate?" Brentili'ik asked.

The male looked uncomfortable for a long moment, then sighed. "Yes, Madame Director. We examined the data on air-gapped isolated computer systems, and the code is indeed Precursor code."

"Where did it come from?" Brentili'ik asked.

Shulkek again made a non-committal gesture. "According to the annotation files in the program used to cover the data, which was some kind of video game, the master algorithm was pulled from an active Harvester Class Precursor Autonomous War Machine back during the first encounters three to four years ago. Additional data was pulled over the last six months from PAWM's attached to the Gal-Net nodes for an unspecified purpose."

Brentili'ik turned and faced one of the four holograms floating in mid-air, two Telkan, a Rigellian, and a Treana'ad. "Any idea why a PAWM would be connected to Gal-Net now? They aren't pushing the same kind of horror show through the network that they were."

The Treana'ad brightened his avatar. "The initial attacks four years ago were committed by Precursor Mantid machines, as they followed the same pattern of attack that the Mantid performed on the Terrans during the Glassing of Terra. Kill the queen, demoralize the drones." The avatar dimmed.

The Rigellian's avatar brightened. "The current connection, which we verified using our own diagnostic criteria and tools, is to a Precursor Lanaktallan machine, which prefers to do the slow and steady. It appears that the Precursor is slowly mapping out Gal-Net, using the video game Cyber-Life to cover."

The Rigellian's avatar dimmed.

"Are we sure it isn't some kind of Lanaktallan trick?" Brentili'ik asked.

"It's origin is from Lanaktallan space. We're talking Core Worlds, possibly even the Unified Council System. It went out on Most High priority, was handed off to the local Nebula Steam Quality Control, where an agent was waiting to take possession of it and hand it off to Telkan Intelligence Services," Shulkek said. "We've been careful not to backtrack it too intently, whoever sent this wanted to stay off the radar. It looks like it was injected just before transit, after Executor inspection."

"Patched in," Brentili'ik said.

Shulkek nodded. "It was masquerading as what's called a Day-One patch as well as a "Service Update" and then it patches together with what was in the base code. Whoever sent this has an inside man with the software company that produced the game. All in all, while it's rather amateur, nobody would be looking for something like this coming out of Lanaktallan Space."

"Well, the question is, is it of use?" Brentili'ik asked.

The Treana'ad brightened again. "The contact who passed it on thought it was just the master algorithm for creating and operating Strategic Intelligence Systems, but it's much more than that. This contains basically what we call an 'operating mind' for a Precursor AWM. The secondary information is even more vital. PAWM autonomous intelligence gathering AI's and combat AI's. There's a lot that can be extracted and extrapolated from the data."

The Rigellian brightened. "This data will take years, possibly decades, of research and information, but immediate yields will allow predictive combat analysis software to be more accurate by a factor of five to ten. We're talking the difference between defeat and victory in almost every foreseeable combat situation."

Brentili'ik nodded. "All right. Thank you for your time, gentlebeings. I hate to break this short, but I have another urgent appointment."

The scientists all nodded, winking out one by one, until it was just Brentili'ik, Colonel Harvey, and Shulkek in the office.

"What's the opinion of the Telkan Intelligence Services?" Brentili'ik asked as Shulkek gathered up a few data chips he had brought for reference.

"That we have a very covert and deep level contact within the Lanaktallan government, possibly on the Unified Council System itself. One that we don't know the name of and would be better to not attempt to discern at this time," Shulkek said. He gave a chuckle as he stood up. "We'll have to see if this was a one-off or if a pattern emerges."

"We will see," Brentili'ik said.

"Madame Director," Shulkek said, taking his leave.

Brentili'ik waited until the office was clear and stood up, turning to look out the window.

"If you would have told me five years ago that not only would I be running both planets in this system, but I would have overseen the creation of an intelligence agency entirely staffed by Telkan with assistance from aggressive intelligence primates, I would have alerted emergency services that there was a mental patient on the loose," she said softly, her tail flicking nervously.

"Life comes at you fast," Colonel Harvey said, moving over to one of the chairs and sitting down. The chair creaked heavily as it took the Terran's weight.

"Telkan are scattered throughout Lanaktallan Space. From menial servants to salesbeings, we're everywhere. Nobody looks at us twice, the Lanaktallan don't think we're smart enough to zip up our worksuits," she said softly. "Now, we get reports from all over the Unified Council Systems on everything from troop movements to tax rates to shipping to newscasts to gossip."

"It's wartime. Of course, during peace-time, you still perform intelligence gathering, even on your allies," Colonel Harvey said. "You'll get used to it."

"I had hoped, when we held open elections for the government positions, that I would have been replaced by someone much more suited to this office," Brentili'ik sighed.

"If it's any consolation, 'Three Podlings in Trenchcoat" got almost a fifth as many votes as you did," Colonel Harvey said.

"That wasn't funny. Elections are supposed to be serious and a group of pranksters thought it was funny to make videos and a campaign on the Info-Net to try to elect three podlings in a trenchcoat with a floppy hat," Brentili'ik said. "Elections are vital, important, and this is the first one the Telkan people have participated in in tens of thousands of years."

"No, it wasn't funny. Funny would have been if you had lost to three podlings in a trenchcoat," Colonel Harvey snickered.

"Oh, it's funny because that kind of thing doesn't happen to Terrans?" Brentili'ik snapped, her tail forming a question mark.

Colonel Harvey started laughing. Brentili'ik stood with her hands on her hips till the Terran managed to get himself under control.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"Do you know who the ruler of The Land of Ice and Snow on Terra is?" he asked.

"No," Brentili'ik said. "Terra itself confuses me."

Colonel Harvey consulted his datalink, then made a tossing motion at the holotank. A picture of a large ursine creature covered in thick brown and black hair appeared. Its face was in a box full of fish and it was obviously eating.

"That's Fatty Plumpkins, the President for Life of the Land of Ice and Snow, elected ten times with over 80% of the vote," Colonel Harvey said. He made another tossing motion and a soft cloth doll that looked like a little primate appeared. "This is El Presidente Sock Monkey, the ruler of the Rum Islands, elected by over 96% of the vote for the last two hundred years."

Harvey gave a large grin.

"Both of them are popular and well loved elected rulers," he said.

Brentili'ik ground her teeth, then turned around and looked out the window. "Your people are insane."

"Yup," Harvey said. He leaned over and tapped the top of the table, bringing the UI to life under the glass. He tapped two icons and watched as a sandwich and a bowl of dip rose up out of the glass. "Sandwich printer go brrr."

Brentili'ik could see the human lift up the sandwich, full of meat and cheese and vegetables, dripping with oil and vinegar, dip it into the dark brown sauce, then take a big bite. She'd noticed that Harvey ate a lot, a lot more than she'd seen other humans eat in the same time frame.

"Harvey, can I ask you a question?" she stared at his faint reflection in the glass.

"Goo awed," the Terran said around a mouthful of sandwich.

"I have been watching, the time we've known each other, and you seem to eat a lot. As near as I can tell, nearly twelve thousand calories in a day," she said. "Why is that?"

Harvey swallowed his bite, took a drink off his slushed drink, and nodded. "Fair question. I've got a lot of bioware implants and I work out a lot. Because I'm a body guard, I don't have an internal reactor, don't want to have a power source for enemy scanners or targeting systems to home in on."

Brentili'ik frowned. "Bioware? Like artificial organs? Like my husband's ear?"

"If your husband's ear provided increased aural sensitivity range, was moderately ballistic resistant, maybe," he said. He made a flicking motion, tossing a wireframe of a human body up. "When you get down to it, I'm probably only around ten percent original parts. Muscle, skin, lungs, hair, heart, internal organs, some neural tissue, spinal cord, all vat grown or cybernetic enhancements, like my skeleton is a lot more dense and woven with a biologically extruded warsteel lattice."

"Why?" Brentili'ik asked. She moved over and looked at the heart, fascinated by the specification. Increased muscle density, self-sealing inner layer, increased valve strength, larger chambers. It even had a serial number, last service data, next service data, model number. She tapped the lungs. Increased gas exchange, filtering systems, contaminant flush.

She stepped back and shook her head. "So the organs are why you require so much food?"

"Telkans only require eight hundred calories a day, you're pretty efficient. Before you were taken off the drugs and brought up to normal needs, the Lanaktallan kept you on about seven hundred calories a day," he said. "A normal Terran standard pure strain human requires about two thousand for females and three thousand for males, that's without high performance activities."

"Our people apparently existed largely off of insects and foliage," Brentili'ik said. "Some meat, mostly one or two species."

"We ate everything that couldn't outrun or outfight us," Harvey said with a shrug. "Once we learned to throw a rock and spear fish, we ate everything, and I mean, everything," he gave a laugh. "There was type of dirt called edible clay that we could eat. Most of the flora and fauna we've encountered in the galaxy was largely edible, weirdly enough."

"Really?" Brentili'ik asked.

"There's some protein differences, but despite what our scientists figured out before we left our solar system, pretty much every type of flora and fauna we've encountered has been edible with only a little preparation," Harvey shrugged. "Taste, now that's something different."

"Humans are weird," Brentili'ik repeated for the thousandth time.

"Indeed we..." Harvey started.

The holotank flashed and the Terran Confederate Armed Services Communication System icon appeared.

Harvey leaned back and picked his sandwich back up.

Brentili'ik ran a paw over her head, pushing down her hair, then tapped the floating rune.

Her heart swelled when she saw her husband's face. He was gray around the muzzle and eyes, on the tips of his ears (the horrible cybernetic had been replaced by a vat grown tissue implant), but his whiskers were perked up and he looked happy to her eyes.

"Vuxten," she said softly, reaching out and touching the hologram.

"Brennie," he answered. He looked behind him, then at Brentili'ik. "I don't have long, only a few minutes. Everyone in the Division is getting to call home, and there's a lot of us and only one hypercomm."

"I understand," she said.

A human face pushed up next to him, a Terran with an eye patch covering one eye and yellow hair.

"Hey, Vux's wife!" he said, waving one hand. A female's hand with pink fingernail polish moved into frame, grabbed his color, and pulled him away. He made an "EEP!" sound as he was pulled out of frame.

Vuxten laughed. "Sorry, that was a friend," he smiled again. "Things are wrapped up here, so we're moving out. I'll be able to talk more once we get to where we're going."

"I understand," Brentili'ik said. "How are you?"

"Busy. We're integrating a bunch of Lanaktallan, so we're really busy," Vuxten said. "How are Ilmata'at and Synthal'la and the podlings?"

"They miss you," Brentili'ik replied. "They wonder when you'll be home."

"Umm, probably a few years," Vuxten said. "You know how it is. Could be as long as five years."

Brentili'ik had known her husband for a long time, knew when he was lying.

But she was also a politician now, and familiar with the way the military operated.

She kept silent about the lie.

"Are you well?" Vuxten asked.

Brentili'ik nodded. "I got reelected to my position," she sighed. "My opponent took third."

"Who took second?" Vuxten asked.

"The political party called 'Three Podlings in a Trenchcoat' who's speeches consisted of nothing more than recordings of the random babblings of podlings and videos of podlings dancing and playing," Brentili'ik sighed. "It was embarrassing."

Vuxten laughed. "It would have made for interesting press conferences."

"If I try to resign, then Three Podlings in a Trenchcoat become the System Director," Brentili'ik mourned.

Vuxten snickered. There was a beeping and he looked serious. "I'm out of time. I love you."

"I love you too," Brentili'ik said.

The holo held Vuxten smiling at her for a moment, then went back to the hypercom logo. After a minute it cleared.

Brentili'ik went over and sat down.

"His unit's on the move. Maybe coming back for more training," Harvey said, tapping the top of the table to reclaim the sludge of the au jus sauce in the dish, the empty drink, and bring him back another strawberry slurry.

"Maybe," she sighed.

"MilCom isn't going to keep Telkans on the same length of rotation they keep humans. You don't live as long," Harvey said. "Your life expectancy is roughly the same as ours used to be," he shook up the bottle and cracked it open, a wisp of cold condensate puffing out. He took a long drink off of it. "He's not going to be one a twenty or fifty year tour."

"Like you?" Brentili'ik smiled.

"As far as twenty year posts go, this isn't a bad one," Harvey said. He set the bottle down.

Too hard. The glass top of the table cracked, the bottle shattered in his hand. He lifted his hand, looking at it. His fingertips were trembling and as Brentili'ik watched, two of his fingers curled inward.

Harvey turned to look at her. "Madame Director, I need you to summon emergency services and alert my replacement," he said. Just during the sentence his speech began to slur and as Brentili'ik watched blood glimmered along the edge of his lower eyelid.

Brentili'ik slapped the emergency medical icon.

Harvey slid down out of the chair and laid on the floor. Brentili'ik moved close, not close enough to get hit if Colonel Harvey seized, but close to him.

"What's happening?" she asked.

"I don't know. I'm getting cyberware failures across the board," he said. "Shit, I'm blind."

Brentili'ik took a risk and moved close, picking up the human's hand. She was holding it when the medics rushed in.

-------------------

Shulkek stood next to Brentili'ik, dressed in a formal looking suit, staring at the graph projected in the holotank.

"You're sure?" Brentili'ik asked.

"It's hitting Terrans all over the sectors. Some kind of strange neural issue. Cyberware interface failures, their own brains not recognizing bioware organs, even problems with nerve and tissue connectivity," Shulkek said. "Harvey was the first, so was Descartes. They're so heavily modified, so TIS believes that it's a direct attack."

Brentili'ik nodded. "I want information. See if you can figure out if the Terrans know about this. See if anyone's figured out a way around it."

Shulkek nodded. "I'll put my best men on it. Right now, Madame Director, my place is here, next to you."

Brentili'ik sat down in her comfortable padded chair and swivelled it to look out the window.

"I want to know if this originated from the Lanaktallan or someone else. If it wasn't them, I want to know who," she said softly.

She paused a second, watching as lightning played in the clouds.

As the thunder rolled, she spoke softly.

"An attack upon one is an attack upon all."