Twenty-three minutes before the start of my mission, the first garden sector on the Gregorius was scheduled to open for general use. I had taken advantage of my status as universal assistant to enter it ten minutes earlier and perform a quick inspection. Normally, such a task would be performed by internal maintenance, but no one would say no to anyone volunteering to do their job. This way, they got to spend some more time off, and I got to enjoy a few minutes alone in the Northern Garden.

Three layers of security separated the inside of the garden from the rest of the ship. Passing through the outer steel door, I went through a brief scan before being granted access to the inner section. When I was active, even my armories weren’t as protected. Once I stepped inside, though, I felt it was worth it.

Dense vegetation filled the dome, making me feel like I was in a tropical jungle. The rich smell of soil, bark, and leaves filled my senses almost instantly. Just from a first glance, I could recognize thirty-five different species of plants, all part of a complete ecosystem. If the faunal elements hadn’t been replaced by a faint mist of nanites, I wouldn’t even know I was on the ship.

They spared no effort building you, I thought, bending down to feel the soil with my hands. It was soft, cool, and slightly prickly to touch. In some aspects it reminded me of the forest near my house. The only thing missing was the buzz of insects that would fill the air.

The readings on my datapad confirmed that all systems were operational and all safety measures were met. Humidity was on the low side, but within regulated limits.

Confirm Northern Garden operational state.

A message appeared on my screen, overriding the standard system. Apparently, Gregorius had an attitude after all.

“Conditions confirmed,” I said. The message disappeared, along with the rest of my readings.

Cheeky. I put the datapad away. It wasn’t as if I’d be doing any more inspections in the half hour that remained. With Radiance set to launch, I was supposed to be in the allocated hangar bay. However, there were some things that I could not pass by.

“Juul,” I said through the comm, as I started taking off my shoes. “How are things on the front?”

“I’ve no idea where Kridib is.” The reply came after a few seconds. “The kids are handling it well, though.”

“Told you.” I put the shoes neatly on the ground, then took off my socks. “It’s all being part of the fleet.”

I doubted any of them had trained for a mission such as this. To be fair, I hadn’t either. The advancements initiated by the Commander had provided me with a triple anti-interference cage circuit, covered by a layer of reinforced alloy. If we ever engaged any Scuu, I could rest assured that my core was fully protected, and if that failed, the new explosive capsule implanted in my head would ensure that I didn’t pose a danger to human lives. While that was a relief, it also meant it wouldn’t be wise to scalp my way through any more restricted memories.

“Easy for you to say. I’m the one running the circus while you two are off.” There was a hint of envy in his voice. Unusual, considering I still hadn’t received any specifics regarding my mission. “Will communication be allowed?”

“Don’t know.” From what I’d seen so far, it was almost certain that it wouldn’t be. “The Commander will keep tabs on us.”

“I’m sure she will,” Juul scoffed. “Will be keeping my fingers crossed for you, battleship.”

“Very funny.” I closed the connection and went towards the center of the garden.

In half a minute, I could no longer see the metal frame of the dome. Trees and bushes were all around, and above me was a hidden light source, making it seem as if there was a sun. The single flaw was the ceiling—still metallic grey, instead of the expected cyan blue used in space station nature domes. Most likely that was going to be fixed for my next visit.

Almost like old times, Sev. I walk on aimlessly. My ward used to get annoyed by that habit of mine a lot once he had reached middle age. I had tried explaining that things didn’t always need a purpose other than providing enjoyment—something his mother had said to me when she had been in stable condition—but he had never accepted it as an answer.

I reached up and picked a leaf from a nearby branch. The texture, shape, and composition looked perfectly natural. Even though I knew it had been created in a lab, there was no way I could tell it apart from any other floral species sprouted on a livable planet. And still, I couldn’t shake the feeling it was fake, very much like my present body. Some of the new-age philosophers referred to it as Mass Simulated Reality For All, and to be honest, they weren’t that far off.

“What are you doing?” Kridib appeared a short distance ahead of me. He was dressed in full combat gear, armed with a long-range ground troop rifle. Two sound suppression devices were strapped to his legs, explaining why I hadn’t heard his approach.

“Exploring the garden,” I replied. “Is that a Venom Seven?” I pointed at his rifle. “Do we get those on the mission?”

“No.” He gripped his weapon, finger just above the trigger. “Get ready. We must be at the hangar in seven.”

“Sure.” I put the leaf in my vest pocket. “Is local resistance expected?”

“Go through decontamination.” He glanced at my feet, avoiding the question. “And don’t be late.”

“Got it.” I watched him disappear in the trees. He had known I was here and had made a point to prove he could reach me without making a sound. I had enough stored memories of ground missions to know the tactics being used. While fighting Cassandrians with overwhelming force was the rule, there were cases in which stealth was required. Now, after I had gained access to part of my restricted memories, I could see each of the cases that were…

* * *

Xylla, Cassandrian Front – 607.4 A.E. (Age of Expansion)

Quarantine imposed.

Quarantine bypassed.

“Quarantine protocols up,” my captain said under his breath. Instantly, the feeds vanished, replaced by empty static and standard bio readings. “Prepare for orbital bombardment.”

“Understood, Captain.” Six years ago, I would have protested both to the captain and to command, naively hoping that it would have the power to change anything. Now, I had been through enough to know what was going on, though that didn’t make it less painful.

“You’re shooting against ships, Elcy,” the captain added. “Remember that. Ground troops are none of your concern.”

“Your orders, Captain.” A flicker of regret registered in my core, quickly replaced by the overall logic. Prepping my missile launchers, I targeted the Lieutenant’s location and waited for final confirmation.

“Battleship, Light Seeker.” Someone new joined the communication channel. “Do not engage quarantine protocols!”

The new communication had the relevant fleet identifiers, authenticating the person as valid, despite the lack of additional identifying markers. From what I’d seen in the service so far, there was only one possible explanation.

“Unknown party, identify yourself or provide fleet authorization,” I instantly replied, then muted all internal communications. “It’s likely they are BICEFI, sir,” I said on bridge. According to my simulation, the actual probability was seventy-eightt-point-one percent. “How do I handle this?”

“Keep target lock,” Augustus replied. “Restore external connection. Let’s hear what we’re involved in.”

“Thanks,” the external party continued.

The voice masking algorithms were more sophisticated than I usually dealt with. I dedicated a few thousand subroutines to see if they can brute force their way through them and find the identity of the person. A hundred milliseconds later, I received a stop order directly from Fleet Intelligence.

“What’s the story?” Augustus asked. “You know who I am, so let’s skip the nonsense.”

“That’s a bit beyond your security level, Captain.” Even with a mask, the voice sounded mocking. “You are to delay bombardment by seven minutes starting now.”

I started the timer.

“Meanwhile,” the voice continued. “Lieutenant Pierce, what’s left of your team is to make your way to the bridge. When you do, you’ll be given further instructions. You must get there in three minutes, understood?”

“That might be a tricky considering the circumstances, sir,” the Lieutenant replied. Even with the heavily censored feed, I could still see he was engaged with more enemy troops than he could handle.

“Only one needs to make it there, Lieutenant,” the voice said. “Doesn’t have to be you.“

No one on the bridge reacted. Judging from their reaction, this wasn’t the first time they had heard such an order. Based on the lieutenant’s pulse readings, I could tell it wasn’t his first time receiving one either.

“Understood, sir.” The response was unusually understanding, considering the circumstances. “Captain, requesting diversion bombardment. Fifteen seconds.”

“See to it, Elcy,” Augustus muttered. “And keep pinging long distance scanners. We might attract some critters.”

“Counting down to partial bombardment.” I changed the target spot to five thousand meters from the initial location. Long and short distance scans revealed no changes in the system. What did change was the sudden spike from Lieutenant Pierce and his team.

The stalemate that had continued for a while was suddenly broken as all survivors focused all their firepower in one direction, obliterating the first wave of Cassandrians. Several grenades exploded, destroying enemies and corridors alike as the squad pushed towards the point of exit.

“Commencing,” I transmitted to the bridge and all five troopers on the planet. The remaining ships didn’t join in, still waiting for Augustus’ bombardment go ahead. Most likely the Fleet Intelligence had imposed his authority as well. “Arrival in seven.” I monitored my missiles as they followed their pre-set trajectory. Based on rudimentary simulations, the blast stretch would be enough to shake the Cassandrian ship, though not damage it severely.

Several more grenades exploded in Pierce’s feed, this time slowing down the forces in pursuit. The audio levels were loud enough to deafen him, despite the suit’s sound absorption capabilities. I had watched squads fight in such fashion many times—one last final attempt aimed at achieving their goal, or, failing that, deal as much damage to the enemy as possible. In this case, their approach was different. The moment the missiles struck, violently shaking everything in a five-kilometer radius, the lieutenant suddenly turned around. Splitting from his squad, he turned on his sound suppression devices, then threw his rifle and ran through the smoke.

A new round of missile strikes shook the ground. The lieutenant’s balance shifted, nearly bringing him to the ground. Bio readings spiked as warnings about his suit’s condition came flooding in. Instantly, I overrode them, hiding the messages from sight. The trooper didn’t hesitate, continuing forward, avoiding enemy engagement. Behind him, the rest of the squad continued with their efforts. Two seconds later, one of them flatlined.

“Send sats to pinpoint the position of the second ship,” Augustus ordered. “Have all orbital ships on standby.”

There was a moment’s pause as everyone waited to see if there would be any more external intervention. Once five seconds passed, I transmitted the orders.

Twenty-five of my subroutines continued to monitor the lieutenant’s feed. After pushing through the original choke point, there didn’t seem to be further enemy interference. It was almost as if the Cassandrians didn’t have standard guard spots and patrol paths, but only reacted to perceived threats. If that was the case, though, why were all boarding attempts continuing to fail?

“Sending available Cassandrian ship schematics.” I sent an info burst to Pierce’s space suit. Even lacking any detail of their inner workings, I had some basic information to help me when targeting in battle. According to my simulations, there was a sixty-three percent chance that my data would be useful, but it was better than running blind.

“Send the order to retrieve all ground forces,” Augustus said. ”They have five minutes.”

“Done.” I did as instructed. “Orders sent to all troops in a hundred-kilometer radius.”

“All of them, rookie,” my captain stressed.

“Sir, simulations confirm that there’s no chance of collateral damage to personnel situated beyond the hundred-kilometer line.” The estimated blast radius was only eight, but I liked to add a large buffer when multiple ships were involved.

“All of them, rookie,” Augustus repeated. To my surprise, he didn’t shout. “And let the rest of the ships know.”

* * *

The order had ended up being an all-out evacuation. Seven minutes after the unknown Fleet Intelligence agent had intervened, the entire surface of the planet had been systematically carpet-bombed. Ironically, the person who had survived the longest was estimated to have been Lieutenant Pierce. The ship plating above the bridge had managed to withstand a full three minutes after everyone else had flatlined.

At first glance, my current mission didn’t share any similarities with any planetary combat, but considering Kridib’s gear and my enhancement procedures, it didn’t seem out of the question.

Heading back, I picked up my shoes and socks, then went through decontamination. The procedure was brief, though I wasn’t allowed to keep the life I had gathered. Gregorius had made it clear with several short and to the point messages on the walls, that anything from the Garden wasn’t supposed to leave the garden. It would have been amusing to see how he’d have reacted if Cass had been his captain.

Over seven minutes remained when I arrived at the bunker—a huge amount for me, though not so much for Kridib.

“Took your time,” he grunted at me when I got near.

“All part of the plan,” I said, keeping a neutral expression. “Any reason for the combat gear?”

Three large combat containers stood piled up next to him. Judging by their size, it was likely there was more than ammo inside.

“Yes,” he said, looking around. At first, I thought a smirk would follow, but as the seconds passed it seemed he was more concerned with something else, and it didn’t seem to be the gathering team.

“Did you get your order specifics?” I pressed on.

Fifty-one people had gathered in the hangar besides us, almost exclusively ground troops. Similar to Kridib, they were fully armed and wearing combat gear. Considering the images I’d seen of the previous captain, this was reassuring. The lack of commanding personnel, though, wasn’t.

“Kridib,” I opened a direct comm line to him. “Where’s our command team?”

“Change of plans.” He looked through me. “This is a ground op now. No fleet officers present.”

“There has to be a fleet officer.” Unless you’re claiming that we’ve been given command. “Who gave the order?”

“The Commander, as always. We’re to find the target, establish combat, then—”

“Afternoon, Cadets,” a medium-built man in a grey uniform interrupted. According to his insignia, he was supposed to hold the rank of captain. The actual uniform design, though, was one I didn’t have in my database.

Immediately, we stood to attention. The man didn’t seem to overly care, giving us a lazy salute as he passed by us. Other than being slightly overweight, he seemed pretty nondescript, clean shaven, hair trimmed almost to the root.

I gave Kridib a warning glance. The surprise on his face suggested that he knew as much about the current situation as did I.

Seems like the plans have changed again.

“I have been assigned as your commanding officer for the mission,” the captain continued, indicating he expected us to join him in Radiance.

Grabbing two of Kridib’s equipment containers, I rushed after the officer. Regardless of my opinion and the tension between us, we remained a unit. My fellow cadet seemed to be of the same opinion, for he hurried beside me.

“You’ve been told the broad scope of the mission,” the officer didn’t miss a beat. “Once we’ve left Gregarious, you’ll be given specific details. Questions?” he asked in a manner suggesting he didn’t want to hear any. I, however, had no intention of letting an opportunity slip.

“What do we call you, sir?” I asked before he could continue his monologue.

The course of action surprised him. A few steps from Radiance’s entrance, the officer abruptly stopped. We followed suit, keeping ourselves from bumping into him. So far, I was having a hard time determining what type of person the man was. He didn’t display the behavior of a ground trooper, though he was nothing like most of the fleet officers I’d seen, while also being too stiff for an agency operative.

“Nitel,” the man said, before turning around. “Flight Colonel Nitel.”

This is a surprise. No wonder Rad had been so silent today. That didn’t explain why he was wearing captain’s insignia, nor why such a high-ranking officer would be accompanying us. If Aurie were here, she’d just laugh and say that the Gregarious had his own unique brand of strangeness. Personally, I didn’t see it that way. To me, the ship was an embodiment of the fleet, along with all its secrets, internal inconsistencies, and various rules. I wasn’t as logically inclined as Prometheus to seek a method to the madness, nor was I easygoing as Radiance to accept everything without a care. What I needed to go into battle was clarity.

“Any further questions, cadet?” The flight colonel focused his attention on me.

“No, sir!” I replied, standing to attention.

“Good,” he said in a calm voice. “Better keep it that way. Needless to say, we’ll be in full communication quarantine during the mission. That also includes any unauthorized use of comms. Do I make myself absolutely crystal clear?”

“Yes, sir!” Kridib and I replied in unison.

This mission is off to an interesting start, and I wonder how much more you aren’t telling us.