The next day...

The Surface of Steinhull, RSC-2W-0063 “Dara Tonn”

Sinn'Are'Sen rubs the sleep grit out of his eyes as he stumbles into the archaeology lab aboard Dara Tonn. He leans against the work table where the 'communicator' from the Steinhull ruins sits. A freshly improvised power cable trails from the socket on it's side to an outlet in the bulkhead.

“Not going to eat breakfast first Sinn?”

“Not particularly hungry Dara Tonn. You know we are getting to a point of no return. We'll either have to reveal all to the RSC and or the RPC if we want to stay alive n the Republic. Or we are going to have to flee beyond it's borders to escape and survive. The Republic claims that there is no other species out there, but we both suspect that's false I think. Something like the Empire mush have been to large to just up and vanish.”

“I don't think it did. Not completely at least.”

“What makes you say that Dara Tonn?”

“Because the effects on the security automata and floor turrets in that chamber are all consistent with Republic standard issue ammunition. Nineteen point zero five by fifty five caseless rounds to be specific. Counting the impacts most of the rounds fired were high explosive shaped charge (HESC) but there are examples of pure kinetic armor piercing rounds as well, most notably against the floor turrets. HESC rounds are standard issue for Republic Army troops, and the AP rounds are commonly issued to marksmen, snipers, and other specialist troops. The autocannon shells from the same compartment are likewise a match to Republic standard shells, albeit ones no longer in service. Forty by three hundred eleven millimeter rimmed. They were used on practically all vehicle, aerospace, ship, and spaceship platforms before they were phased out in favor of different weapons systems about two thousand years ago.

“It is not just the munitions either. I have had a chance to more closely examine the cryogenic storage container that you recovered and much of the internal components are compatible with Republic ones. Not just comparable, not just related, compatible. As in you could swap them for Republic standard parts and the device would function.

“There are dozens of other, smaller matches but I would be my bottom bit that the Empire didn't fall apart cleanly. Revolt, revolution, or just anarchy as part of a general collapse of a central power structure are all possibilities. The Republic either emerged from one of the factions to survive the mess or was one of the factions.”

Sinn leans back and stares at the overhead in thought.

“That starts to make a lot of sense in a way, but let's keep that though to ourselves for the moment. Even if there are other surviving factions we don't know anything about them or where to find them. Nor do we know how they would treat us. Is the Empire 'communicator' charged up?”

“Yes. You can probably read the letters on the buttons but I can't. Wake it up and play around?”

“Luck Bend my way past any passwords first, but sure. I'll go for any sort of station schematic or deck plan that I can find first. I still would like to find out where I came from literally as well as culturally, which means re-locating the cryosleep compartment that my adoptive mother pulled me from.”

Sinn drops his gaze the the Empire 'communicator' and taps a random key to bring the display to life. It's a black display with green characters on it.

“Blocky characters, not the seeping curves I've seen before. Simplified for a digital display? Or a regional dialect?”

“Or standardized for printing / display as opposed to hand written.”

“Also a possibility. Can you see the screen?”

“Via you headset camera, yes. Why?”

"I'd like you to work to start assembling a translation matrix if possible. We know that the Empire and the Republic share some traits, perhaps language is one of them?”

“Given that I see four fewer characters then the current Republic alphabet there have been some changes down the millennia. Would It be possible for me to extract that information from the device in your head?”

“Probably not. I know it instinctively, not consciously, and I can't see how you could interface with my 'implant'. I'll stick with the characters and words displayed on the screen. Top left to bottom right is: 'User ID' colon 'Genemaster' underscore 'Mekhane.' The next line reads: 'Password' colon and then a blinking underscore. I'd guess the 'communicator' is awaiting input.”

“Standard login procedure so far. Odd interface though. Command line or just a lock screen?”

“Lock screen I think. I haven't worked with a non-AI interface since I was seven, but I recall the command line having something like Cee colon slash users slash owner and then that rightwards pointing arrow character. I remember using it to indicate 'greater than' in math but I can't recall a specific name.”

“Any chance of 'reading the keys' like you did before?”

“I've got a hundred and ten keys to work with and none of them show any wear. I might as well throw in my personal password just to see what it does with no expectation of it working.”

“I can try searching my data stacks for references to Genemaster or Mekhane if that might help.”

“Go for it Dara Tonn and let me know if you get any results. I'm going to activate Luck Bender and start making attempts. Set an alarm for zero nine thirty to remind me to eat breakfast please.”

“Done. Beginning data search now.”

Sinn cracks his neck and stares at the Empire 'communicator' as he murmurs the incantation to active Luck Bender. Sinn lifts his hands from the work table and lets them hover over they keys. Absentmindedly he types in his Republic username, 'feels' that that is wrong, erases it, types in his personal Password and hits the enter key. The screen blanks and displays the prompt for a username. Sinn types “Genemaster_Mekhane' in and hits enter. The password prompt re-appears. Sinn lifts his hands away and re-activated Luck Bender for a second attempt. 'Ovaettr' feels wrong and is removed and 'Steinhull' comes up empty. Another entry of the username and activation of Luck Bender later, another pair of failed entries rules out 'Black Site' and 'Orbital'.

Sinn rubs his eyes in frustration and goes back in for a fourth attempt. 'Forge' comes up 'wrong' so he decides to just close his eyes and let Luck Bender guide his fingers. Twenty keystrokes later Sinn opens his eyes and hits enter. The screen of the Empire 'communicator' turns a blank black and then a new line of green text appears.

“Stars and sky, I'm in! Dara Tonn, I hoe you managed to record that because I had my eyes shut.”

“I did, though I cannot read the characters. I'll send the video clip to your communicator for review.”

Sinn pulls out his communicator and sets it on the work table, then activates a note program alongside of the video file. BY pausing it each time a fresh star character appears on the Empire 'communicator' in the video he is able to piece together the password.

“'YaldabaothOfTheForge' huh? That's an odd password. Must be a phrase or title that meant something to this 'Genemaster Mekhane'.”

“I'll keep running a data search in the background so see if anything turns up. In the meantime what does the file directory look like?”

“nothing yet, just a command line entry. What would be the command for 'list all files' again? I can't recall off the top of my head.”

“Try 'ls space dash a'. It's the Republic standard command for 'list all files, including hidden files. It's a long shot but...”

Sinn typed in the command, hit enter, and was rewarded with a long list of files.

“Got something. A lot of things actually. Damn, did this guy ever actually create any sub folders or just leave everything on his desktop? At least it's sorted alphabetically, though I think that is by default and not by choice.”

“Check the file extensions. I think that there are folders.”

“Sky and fucking stars. Is there any way I can link you into this to do a file search?”

“Hmm, perhaps. Let me do a search of obsolete data connectors and see what I can turn up. In the mean time try the command 'find space period space dash name open quote period capital D capital W capital G end quote'.

“'Find' and 'name' as words, and capital letters 'DWG'?”

“Correct. That will search for all files with the file extension of .DWG. Its a Republic standard for architectural files, so it should help is find any station plans.”

“Gotcha. Well I have the text 'running' dot dot dot, followed by percentages on each new line. A whopping zero point zero three percent so far. This might take a while.”

“Agreed. Breakfast alarm in twenty minutes.”

“Good, we can take this next part mobile. Let me pull up that ballistic trace plot on my communicator and we can talk that firefight over. Any estimate on a timeline of events?”

“Counting the bodies and the shell impacts, and estimating the rates of fire for the autocannon, not long at all. There were one thousand two hundred and fifty eight autocannon shell impacts on the bulkheads that we could still see. Given the rate of fire of Similar Republic weapon system using that ammunition I estimate that combat ended no longer then fifteen seconds after the first round was fired. In that same time the floor turrets got off a total of twelve shots. Given that we found no remains besides that for the floor turrets and the security automata, the attackers either took no casualties or removed their own dead. It is possible that some attackers were vaporized entirely by the floor turrets, but given that each expended autocannon shell in the compartment has a matching hole in a bulkhead I doubt it.”

“That's insane. Either the security automata had utterly abysmal aim or the attackers were outright superhuman in their abilities.”

“I suspect a combination of both in this instance. I have no definitive proof, but if you see how these shots spread...”

“I think I see it. Are they tracing paths along the bulkheads?”

“It appears that way.”

“So the attackers came through the hatch and split to flank the compartment?”

“Precisely. I suspect no more then two attackers were in the compartment at the time. There are two unexplained scorch marks on the deck plates, possibly from flash or smoke grenades to disrupt the defending forces, but that would not have lasted the full fifteen seconds. There is also the matter of no remains being found in or on the altar.”

“Combine that with the missing 'communicator', this one being half logged into and abandoned... I think this 'Genemaster Mekhane' was there but fled in the confusion, leaving the security automata to die covering their retreat. If that fire search is finished by tomorrow morning I'm going to leave it running and head back into the Steinhull ruins to explore past that chamber. There is something down on that lower deck, I can feel it.”