Trails of the Past - A Lunatic's Obsession
05 Mar 2024Kasumi Goto
So, here it finally is. The start of a log series which will... mostly, cover Kira seeking out things that are in the past, but very much still matter right now, in the present - be that for herself, or for the ongoing war. It took a little longer than I'd have liked to get this first entry out due to... 'distractions', of various kinds, and occasional lack of motivation. But it's here now, so enjoy. I think it'll be something fairly interesting to follow(the banners are also a bit of an experiment - this first one is courtesy of Meowers while I figure out what software to do them in myself that isn't subscription-based bullshit). And am I going to write on that whole matter around Taranis? Yes. You'll have to wait and see for it, though. And how it gets tied into this.
"I admire humanity's ingenuity, I have to admit. But all too often, it is directed at entirely the wrong things."
Location - Near Barnard's Loop
Date - February 26, 3310
A few hours after the visit to Titan Taranis
The large, roughly circular nebula, known as Barnard's Loop, had been getting larger and larger with each jump. Now, it was looming over my ship like a giant, red omen, a blotch on the dark background of space, taking up effectively all the view from the Krait Phantom's canopy. I knew Thargoids liked to be near these nebulas, and it made me a little uneasy, even knowing that there had been little or no reports of them being active around this particular one. And it was still kind of pretty, with a few of them being right next to each other.
My destination, however, was elsewhere, a few hundred light years away still. About ten or eleven jumps in my current ship. Originally, I'd considered coming out here with my fleet carrier, but it was too slow, so I was out here all on my own. And I didn't mind it, though the crew had to be confused why I'd ordered a jump out and then back into the Bubble. Not that any of them said it. I stopped gazing at the view that presented itself to me right now, and resumed jumping. I wanted to know what I'd find.
------
HIP 26176
I was there. And I had a signal - two, in fact, of human origin. But the one that interested me... was on moon I of the fifth 'planet' of the main star. Which itself was a brown dwarf caught in orbit around... it was either a B or O type star, but looked more like a B type. I hadn't checked. There was also a strange beacon around another moon of that same dwarf star. Not the first I'd encountered on my journey, but the other two I had found, I decided to bookmark the locations and return to them later, to see what they were about.
Apparently, I had been here before. I was surprised to find navigation data saved on my ship's computer for it, dated around mid-3307, even though it claimed to have none for the region on which systems I'd visited. That meant I probably had whichever data I could recover from what was on the moon I was headed toward, but going there was clearly something Seo intended for me to experience myself, and directly - so I would go down. The moon was quite large for being one, at 0.4Gs of surface gravity - though given that it was orbiting a failed star, it could as well have been a small planet, so the mass seemed right.
After spending a few hours of being nice and weightless, for the most part, going back into gravity was... quite a sensation. Even at .4G, I could definitely begin to feel it take effect as I descended and got closer to the surface, my body beginning to deform under the weight now coming onto it. Differently than when I was accelerating forward, anyway - but the pilot's seat had been built with that as a tolerance in mind, rather than 'just' being precisely as wide as my body. So that, at least, wasn't an issue. The 'experience' was still interesting, and new, the most I'd landed on since taking off - so far - having been around .04G. An extra jolt downward when thrusters disengaged from landing, after which I 'bounced' back up slightly, added a light finishing touch to it.
Thankfully, I didn't need to manually follow coordinates and had a marker placed for this place, named 'Oaken Point', from a prior surface scan. Once landed, a few hundred meters from this surface outpost, I got out of the seat, picked up the pistol attached to its right side side via a holder, solidly clamped on to the arm rest, and moved toward the vehicle bay. While I didn't expect trouble, over a thousand light years from the Bubble and its senseless war - especially when I hadn't publicly announced where I was going - I still wanted to have at least one self-defense weapon with me, in case I needed to leave the vehicle.
Once I got myself squeezed into the Scorpion's interior, I put the pistol into an appropriate holder there, too, and sat down, hitting the respective keys to start it up and get the SRV lowered out of the ship. Its stupid lights turned on automatically, which was quite annoying, so I turned them off again. Especially pointless when the place was in bright daylight. I drove toward the entrance gate and stopped a few meters short, looking at it. Not much to be said - it looked fairly intact, indicating this wasn't an old place, or not old enough to have sustained any real damage from lack of maintenance. Clearly not new, either, though - the signs were there.
I drove through the gate, with 'OAKEN POINT' painted on it in capital letters, thinking the place had a strange name. As I was here, taking in my surrounding momentarily... something 'flashed' before my eyes. A memory. Me, in almost this exact same spot, but inside of a "Scarab" SRV instead of this combat-oriented variant. It was almost like... viewing a picture, both from this position where I was now, and as if there was a camera somewhere behind me, showing the vehicle from behind, with the gate and most of the outpost in view.
Thanks to the sensor contacts, I quickly located some kind of data terminal. Running the data link scanner on it, I... received a message containing a log. "Oaken Point 1/5", its title read. So there were four more, and I didn't need to do anything particularly fancy to get any data from them. Or, at the very least, anything useful or important didn't need 'convincing' from one of my old tools. Whether I still had those skills myself... I wasn't sure yet. They definitely hadn't come back to my memory at this point.
I drove around for a while before I found all of the log uplinks, wondering why those data storage devices were just sitting out in the open, exposed to vacuum, when there were clearly habitation units present. But then, it didn't matter all that much anyway. I drove back to the entrance gate, and opened up the log repository created in my comms panel inbox. I started at the first log, as would be expected.
Project Seraph, Log #1. Professor Thomas Dorne reporting.
After years of preparation, we are ready to enter the trial phase of our work. The subject quota outlined in requisition order #2125 has been fulfilled. Surgical enhancements are scheduled on candidates deemed most likely to survive the Thargoid systemic interface.
There is a sense of excitement here at the facility. My team recognise that we are on the threshold of something truly remarkable. While our competitors chase rumours and run lab tests on curious probes, we are working towards the first human-piloted Thargoid vessel.
Of course, our research here will be the first of many such projects. This hostile race has plagued human space for hundreds of years. These creatures, so foreign - so fundamentally alien in every aspect - have sought to dominate us. The technology used in these attempts has been devastating.
Our work will establish the first example of humanity harnessing Thargoid machines for its needs. Over time, we will continue to assimilate the aliens' technology until we have stripped everything we want. Then we shall lead the mission to wipe them out forever.
The Mycoid virus merely bought us time. Our true victory will be absolute.
So this was a facility which planned to connect humans to a Thargoid ship. That seemed like a really stupid idea... and this 'Professor Thomas Dorne' was horribly egotistic. I hated how he spoke of the Thargoids like they were just some pest to be killed off, and we deserved to take their technology without developing it ourselves.
And this, then... had to be the place where the thing that connected Seo to the hivemind had occurred. I opened the second log and started its playback. It described initial tests of subjects "A-1" through "A-7", with the first six getting killed by some kind of seizure. "A-7" seemed to be mildly successful until they died after saying "It won't let me", as if the link had been rejected by the ship after initial connection.
I opened the third log.
Project Seraph, Log #9. Professor Thomas Dorne reporting.
The fourth day of testing has concluded. The further revisions to our surgical couplings are finally beginning to show promise.
My team isolated a systemic membrane in the Thargoid design which acts as a defence mechanism, akin to a software firewall. While we were able to theorise a way to counteract this mechanism, there was one variable which could not be defined without a live test. Subject D-1's primary neural implant was calibrated accordingly. I regret that D-1's test ended poorly, but we received the information we needed.
Subject D-2's test used the recalibrated couplings. Her introduction to the Thargoid vessel proceeded smoothly, and as with A-7 the hull's external frame responded visually. Dr Pierce and Dr Hamlin, witnessing, both reported D-2 as responsive. Seventy-six seconds into the test, the craft powered down once more. D-2 departed the craft with help but standing, the sight of which inspired applause from the team on the ground.
D-2 is now in the infirmary, exhausted but physically unharmed. Her brief statement implied a connection with the vessel which proved emotionally difficult to process. Our research technicians are preparing limbic augments for future subjects.
The rest of today's scheduled tests will go ahead as planned while these augments are prepared. It is important to acquire additional data for our surgeons, improving the efficiency of future subject enhancement.
"D-2" was Seo. So she had somehow succeeded to build a successful link to the ship, but... how? Why did it work for her? What was so different about her that made the ship 'accept' her? And what had she 'seen' during that connection?
I shook my head. This was just awful. People had been kidnapped, tortured and died for this mad dream of people obsessed with... power. The desire to obtain something that we were not meant to, and not ready for yet. The only useful knowledge I got out of this was... that this defense mechanism of the ship was interesting. Primarily in how it was clearly meant to prevent any connection by something that wasn't a Thargoid, if through... rather unpleasant means.
I needed to know more. Playing back the fourth log, it was... a little too close, it felt like. For... some reason.
Project Seraph, Log #14. Professor Thomas Dorne reporting.
There has been considerable progress in our work. After an initially unremarkable series of tests, Subject H-8 successfully interfaced with the Thargoid vessel! Ninety-three seconds into the test, the craft moved approximately eighteen feet from its docking props and hovered in place. The flight was stable and accompanied by a gentle hum. I would describe the sound as subdued, as though the vessel had been brought to heel at last.
The landing, twenty-eight seconds later, was abrupt but only superficial damage was sustained. H-8 is unconscious but stable under the care of the medical team. Dr Hamlin and Dr Tao, witnessing, were shaken but unharmed. Subject H-9's test has been postponed while the Thargoid ship is returned to its dock.
The whereabouts of D-2 remains unconfirmed. She may be a stowaway; the only ship to have departed recently belongs to one Commander Hyford, following a delivery of potential subjects. Captain Stenson believes the Commander is complicit, but I am not convinced. Hyford lacks the character to betray us and is quite aware of the consequences for doing so. Regardless, Black Flight operatives are already tracking him down.
On a personal note, I would like to emphasise the incredible work by my team so far. Each day brings us closer to the assimilation of our enemy's primary asset: their technological secrets.
So this "H-8" had somehow actually managed to make the ship take off after establishing a link successfully too, which was... quite curious, in itself, but it still didn't actually tell me how. By the time of that recording, Seo had escaped, too, and the name 'Hyford' seemed familiar... though I couldn't quite put down where I knew it from.
It was also less important to me at the moment. Somehow, that latest subject designation was... far too 'close' to me. And something prompted me to pull off the suit glove, to take a closer look at my right arm, pulling the sleeve back as well as I could.
Sure enough, despite the skin being so white, there were - somewhat faint - markings in the shape of an H, a dash, and a seven present just past the wrist, on my forearm. But the logs I read said I was only 'inducted' around 3306, making me feel confused. I couldn't have been a subject for this testing phase, it was too early. Was it supposed to be some kind of... reference? Possibly, a combination of the first time the ship powered up under a link, under subject A-7, and the letter of the one that managed to get it to fly.
I most likely wouldn't ever know for certain. Not unless I got my hands on whichever Azimuth nutjob was responsible for my situation. And that choice of lettering as well as number clearly hadn't done them any good, since I was not only out of their control, but never got to be used for my intended "purpose". Not that it really improved the mess I was in, but I had more of a head to use on my own accord. Better yet if it got fixed up more and I had more mental capacity available. Too much of it was still dedicated to ensuring thoughts could form properly, as an adult should be able to, with the implant's assistance.
Only one log remained. It was... really not too interesting, mostly detailing testing which was in vain due to lack of response from the Thargoid ship, and that they needed a new one. Some talk about how the project would possibly get cut, its advances, and reports of a recent encounter in the Pleiades nebula. Apparently, "H-8" had died two days after their test run, following a period of unconsciousness, which made my own "designation" even more puzzling.
The log did mention a "Black Flight", and... seeing as well as hearing that name again did prompt something to return. Not so much specifics of their actions, as that they were a clandestine military, or mercenary, group, employed by Azimuth to cover for their shady activities. And they were said to be scouting out a new research site... I wondered where.
It occurred to me to check the time stamps of the logs. For one reason or another, I couldn't see anything precise, beyond the year - 3303, confirming what I already knew about this project.
I'd found all that I could here, and slipped the glove back on to the hand, concealing the glyph on its back again. It occurred to me that it seemed a little ironic how both humans and Thargoids had now put their mark on me, as if they both wanted to have me on their side. Instead, it felt like I was between both sides while they were trying to pull me in either direction, risking to have nothing left in the end. It even amused me a little, because I found enough wrong with both species to at least try to not be too partial to either side, while they both seemed to want me on theirs.
After driving around a little, trying to figure out where they would have held the Thargoid ship - coupled with some more wondering about which kind it was - without much success, I decided I'd recovered and found everything I could here, returning to the ship. Technically, there was an option for me to poke around the habitation quarters, but I was unlikely to find anything useful in there, nor did I want to be in this place any longer. I engaged supercruise after clearing mass lock, the 'sensation' of taking off not really differing from the effects of gravity on my soft body. Soft on the exterior, anyway - I had little way of knowing if the enhancements made to me included better bone strength. Although the effect accelerating away from a source of gravity had on my chest was... exhilarating, to say the least.
As it was my next target, I locked the beacon orbiting around the moon as the nav target, and ran a scan on it. But no message popped up when it finished, leaving me confused of where to go next.
"Hm... EDI?"
The AI's hologram popped up. "Yes, Kira?"
"The beacon didn't give me a message. Can you do something?"
"Of course. One moment." That 'moment' barely lasted a second. "Done. I was able to reactivate the transmitter and recover the message from the database."
"Thanks."
Unfortunately, said message was partly corrupted. The good part being that it was not significantly so, and reconstituting it was quite simple. I read through it again in detail once it was corrected.
Set the escape pod to ... you'll find a ship waiting
Travel to Col 69 Sector JI-I c10-4
If you believe in anything I suggest you pray to it
238.69
MESSAGE ENDS
Part of the message was missing entirely, it looked like, not mentioning where to set the escape pod to. Presumably, it was supposed to be somewhere within the system, or maybe even outside of it. Didn't much matter - I had another location to go to now.
The system in question did, in fact, hold another beacon, orbiting planet A 9 at the far reaches of the solar system, or at least the primary star. The kind of place such a beacon would be present in. It presented me with another corrupted, though relatively easily corrected message... or so I thought. I kept messing up some letters of the system name when correcting it, until I finally had the right combination and found a match on the galaxy map.
I can't stay here too long. Don't feel safe... like something's about to appear in the sky any second
I've plotted a route to Wregoe DK-R b4-1. No reason for me to be here
Meet me. Please don't be long
445.10
MESSAGE ENDS
I pondered what that message was referring to, exactly. I knew Seo had a link to the hivemind... but was she concerned about getting found by Azimuth, or by the Thargoids? It sounded more like the latter, as they had a tendency to just appear out of nowhere. This had to have been badly unsettling for her.
I ran into an annoyance, then, when I attempted to get a course plotted to that next system. The route plotter just adamantly refused to give me a proper result, and it took me a little while to notice, or realize, that it was that stupid, giant permit-locked bubble of the Col 70 Sector getting in my way, because the idiots at the Pilot's Federation had blocked all of it off in a kneejerk reaction to Thargoid presence of some kind. Or at least it seemed to be because of Thargoids. And... that effectively brought back the memory of me being annoyed about this exact same thing, when I'd come here, following this same trail two and a half, or so, years ago.
This required me to take a long detour to be able to plot the route to the next system. I tried to verify that it was actually the right one by checking for system data, but the nav computer still insisted I hadn't been there. Yet, when I arrived, the data on local planets was already all available to me, as was the beacon's location. At least it spared me the time needed to scan everything.
When I arrived at planet 2, I thought someone'd played some kind of cruel joke with that beacon placement, because the gas giant looked suspiciously green. Yet, when I checked, it was a simple class one gas giant, rather than one with ammonia-based life. So I scanned the machine without a second thought, it appearing to be a message conversation.
-u were supposed to be here
-im trying. project isnt going well. hard to get away.
-screw the project! said u would get me home
-im sorry. one more stop. ill find u I promise
-where
-Synuefe GB-O c9-8
-ill try. im tired. scared to close my eyes
-the dreams?
-just meet me
-ill be there. i promise
376.90
MESSAGE ENDS
So... Seo had bad dreams after her connection to the Thargoid ship. Like... my own nightmares, if not worse. And whoever had helped her escape - the logs only mentioning that 'Hyford' as a suspect, with him being tracked down by those "Black Flight" operatives - was talking to her. Or writing. Trying to guide her, even, and join up with her, but kept getting delayed.
I had no idea what this had to have been like for her, but I kept my mind clear for now, setting course for the next location, thankfully with the Col 70 obstruction clear out of the way. The beacon there was orbiting moon D of planet 10... which, of course, was an ammonia-life gas giant. That made me shake my head before targeting the beacon and heading there. Judging by its contents... it seemed to be the last one. And the one location mentioned there... I immediately recognized it.
Stenson suspects someone helped you escape. I can't do anything that would draw suspicion
They reassigned me to HIP 22460. Have to go no questions asked
Have embedded the system permit code to this message. You take it, give it to the press or authorities. Whatever you want. But don't you ever come here
Run. Run as fast as you can and never look back. I'm so sorry for everything we did to you
301.66
MESSAGE ENDS
There it was. HIP 22460 - where my own... 'misadventure', had started in full. And the place that I wanted to go next... after my current set of goals. It seemed like I wouldn't just be heading there to retrace my own past.
I began to think on this journey Seo had gone through. Well over a thousand light years of distance, far away from any populated space, while plagued by nightmares of... whatever she was seeing through that hivemind connection, having to be afraid of Azimuth. At that time, even... Thargoids were nothing but a myth, and she wouldn't have known, or barely have known at all, what she was seeing. It had to have been so terrifying. Given when these places had been found, too, it meant that the permit for HIP 22460 had never been shared to the public by her.
I shook my head. Azimuth were really just terrible in every way possible, and none of what they'd said, even after the failure of the Proteus Wave, sounded like genuine apologies. Instead, they'd elected to claim that all the leadership which had anything to do with those dirty, sick, twisted experiments... had died. Yet, last year, Seo had apparently been attacked without proper reasoning by unknown mercenaries with no ship identification, near Azimuth's Bubble headquarters. It seemed almost too coincidental to not have been them, and their Black Flight dogs. It made me feel almost as disgusted as at what was happening to Taranis, right now.
Sighing, closing my eyes momentarily, I set up a course back to the Bubble. By now, the carrier would be in place where I wanted it, too, in orbit around the moon of the system that I intended to visit next. Double-checking it in my messages told me that was, in fact, the case. I began to jump, leaving Project Seraph's history behind... for now.
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Location : DG Canum Venaticorum
Orbiting moon A 4 A
Underneath me, more or less, was an outpost going by the name of 'Iraxon Lane'. But nothing about it appeared in any existing, or current, official registries - the only things I could find about it were some links to INRA, a military and research organization active during the First Thargoid War. Which made me... rather curious what I was going to find out there, while a little confused about what exactly this had to do with my past. But I was certain Seo wouldn't just send me down there for no reason, so I began my descent.
Gravity down on this moon was only .1G, so it didn't make me feel particularly heavy. Or like I weighed much at all. Everything was shrouded in darkness, the outpost currently being on the night side - which was no good to me. Even low-light vision wasn't enough for pitch black, it just made outlines slightly cleared, and... I was not particularly tempted to see how I'd fare with IR vision, even if the implant itself, or brain modifications, provided the necessary means to work with it. So I switched on night vision when the SRV deployed, but kept the lights off as a result.
As soon as I drove toward the entrance gate, it immediately became obvious this surface installation was old. A lot older than the one in HIP 26176 - the front panel of the gate was hanging on by one side only, looking ready to fall off with the INRA lettering on it. The paint itself, looking a lot more worn too.
Looking around with the turret cam, I noticed something that oddly looked like cages, and began to get a mumbly, bad feeling. But upon driving closer, they turned out to be old cargo racks. Old, completely broken cargo racks with destroyed containers within them. The layout of this one... actually seemed quite a lot like the facility at Oaken Point. Clearly, design standards hadn't changed much in a century and a half.
I gathered all the logs, titled 'AZIMUTH CONTRACT' and stopped just outside the entrance gate again, pointing toward the Krait Phantom. If I needed to make a quick exit in it, while listening to the recordings, I wanted to at least be back there quickly. But if not, I also wanted to remain in the Scorpion to look around a little more, in case there was anything interesting to be seen once I was done. With Azimuth involvement, I similarly suspected nothing good to have come out of this facility.
Azimuth Contract 1/5
…Bypassing security protocols…
…Secure connection established…
This is Caleb Wycherley, vice—president of research at Azimuth Biochemicals. l have been assigned oversight of our work with INRA over the next few months.
While the financial aspects of the contract are considerable, there is much to be gained from this new partnership. INRA possesses a number of remarkable talents with whom a positive working relationship will benefit Azimuth‘s continued growth. The opportunities of such a network will help establish a market lead over Pharmasapien. Perhaps, in time, that second-rate company will learn its place in the broader picture. One can hope, at least.
Azimuth’s role in the anti-Thargoid initiative is encouraging. But this ongoing war is tiresome. The resources spent on proving that humanity is the dominant species in the galaxy would be better served elsewhere. I find the Thargoid’s persistent aggression towards us offensive. lNRA’s work may be the best chance we have to end the conflict.
On that note, Azimuth will help with the development of a biological weapon. We have several potential compounds which show some promise. Our expertise in biochemical research will no doubt prove valuable to the initiative.
I’m eager to see what the future holds.
'Proving that humanity was the dominant species'... because that had worked so well in the past. In fact, this was the past, because this 'Caleb Wycherley' sounded quite young. And 'Azimuth Biochemicals' had to be the old name of the company... while Pharmasapien was its rival?
I went digging in my brain, and sure enough, part of a neuron cluster kind of 'lit up' when those two words almost came into contact with them, prompting an immediate reaction from the implant to make sure it remained active, and gain a hold there for further repairs to the brain structure. I found more around it, relating to this place - it had some kind of link to Salvation. Maybe this even was him - the logs would tell me if that was the case. And they'd also tell me more about this 'biological weapon', but a part of me already began to suspect it was Mycoid. Researching Thargoids as I'd done made it almost impossible to not find anything about it, given how closely connected both were.
Azimuth Contract 2/5
…Bypassing security protocols…
…Secure connection established…
A fortuitous development has occurred. Lady Luck smiles upon us.
Our biological weapons research has shown limited success up to now. However, a research assistant of INRA has stumbled upon the incredible potential of a fungus, of all things. An agricultural experiment involving Thargoid technology revealed the fungus’s highly damaging properties.
I understand the researcher had to bypass his superior to bring this discovery to light. A weaker-willed individual would have disregarded the results as instructed. Fortunate for us this man is made of sterner stuff. I expect the researcher will receive little official recognition. however.
It’s amusing, really. This man may have uncovered the means of ending the war, yet the nature of lNRA’s work will ensure that humanity never knows his name.
The subsequent meeting about this fungus’s potential for weaponisation was enlightening. From the very specific wording used by lead INRA figures, I suspect that information is being withheld from sub-contractors such as myself. Understandable, of course. Still. I have a strong suspicion that INRA possesses at least one live Thargoid specimen. I’m keen to witness a live test on Thargoid physiology.
l’ll spend the evening with my peers. It shouldn’t be too difficult to persuade them that my presence would be beneficial for such a test.
And there it was. It really hadn't taken long... I only needed to hear the word fungus to know exactly what this was going to be about. The mention of a live specimen test... still disconcerted me. And the eagerness with which this idiot Wycherley spoke of it, which even put me off a little. Regardless of that, I continued.
Azimuth Contract 3/5
…Bypassing security protocols…
…Secure connection established…
The live Thargoid test was fascinating, to say the least. The new scar across my face is evidence of that.
I arrived shortly before the test was scheduled to take place. As the fungal compound. now termed mycoid, was prepared, the Thargoid specimen broke out of its holding cell, the last in a series of escape attempts. There were multiple fatalities, and I am fortunate not to be counted among them. Medical treatment was a success, though my left eye will need further surgical attention.
The creature was savage and difficult to subdue. One wonders how these mindless things developed the impressive technology they use.
Despite my injury, I was ready to return for the introduction of the mycoid compound. The results were exactly as hoped, resulting in the Thargoid‘s demise.
Some INRA personnel have requested transfers away from the project, citing the ethical concerns of living test subjects. These people clearly lack the will to protect humanity by any means necessary.
The mycoid compound has been approved for mass production at several INRA facilities. Azimuth’s contribution to the manufacturing process has been noted. It now falls to my team to propose methods of delivering the compound to Thargoid targets. A missile seems the logical solution, though questions of mycoid containment and virulence upon impact must first be answered.
As if I needed more confirmations for... everything. Not only did this log outright mention the mycoid virus, it also was entirely characteristic for this narcissistic maniac to describe the Thargoids as mindless, and to hold such contempt for them. Worse, he enjoyed its death, which had to be excruciatingly painful.
As though a human wouldn't have attempted to do the same in such circumstances, trapped by an alien species about to introduce a highly lethal biological weapon into the organism of the human. Or onto it. The only thing that had surprised me about it was actually hearing INRA researchers find their morals - it was not something it appeared to be particularly known for. That surprise had of course gone right back to being somewhat disgusted at Wycherley. "Protecting humanity by any means necessary" had only achieved the result of continually putting it into worse positions. And I had a strong feeling what Aegis was doing right now would cause much of the same, even if they were significantly more responsible and acknowledging about the costs of their approach. Little did I know how much worse that would get, in the very near future.
But I had no way of predicting it. And I moved along to log four.
Azimuth Contract 4/5
…Bypassing security protocols…
…Secure connection established…
The meeting with leading INRA figures has concluded. Final preparations of the mycoid weapon are underway at Taylor Keep.
The plan is to send a long vessel towards the Thargoid mothership that recently attacked Carmichael Point. Not many pilots possess the courage or the skill to complete such a mission. I suspect that a member of the Pilots’ Federation will be required, given the challenges of this assignment. A list of potential candidates is being drawn up.
I’ve reviewed the classified documentation related to the mycoid weapon’s payload. For such a highly secretive organisation, INRA’s network security protocols took only a few hours to bypass. It seems INRA leaders anticipate the mycoid virus will inflict significant damage to not only the mothership but also its occupants. The payload has been specifically designed to do so.
While I approve of the decision to eradicate the many Thargoids on board, communication records reveal a convoluted discussion to reach agreement on this tactic. I wonder why the decision to strike a decisive blow against our enemy was such a difficult one.
Earlier today I secured a regular supply of progenitor cells. My recent brush with death served as a reminder of my own mortality, and there is far too much work to do in a typical human lifespan. The operation to fully restore my sight was a success, but has left my eye completely white.
This appears to have prompted a new nickname among my staff, some of whom are now referring to me as ‘The Witch’. The wordplay is amusing, I suppose. But perhaps such a pseudonym will have its uses.
So 'The Witch' was another of his pseudonyms. I'd heard of it before, and vague suspicions arose about a connection between both, but this only confirmed it, and gave me back more. A memory of someone called 'The Witch' ordering a strike on a megaship that belonged to... Aegis. But not the current one. An older version, which had significant issues and was dissolved because of them. The Alexandria, as its name came back to me, only being the final nail in the coffin that was already sealed, at the time. All of its crew had been killed, or left to rot in a dead ship if they survived, after a sabotage.
Otherwise, the log matched everything I knew about mycoid - lethal, not just for the ships but their occupants, designed to spread as well. And, of course, he yet again questioned people actually having morals and ethical pondering in their heads. Progenitor cells, after what I'd learned through a friend recently, also explained how he'd managed to live so long.
What a moron.
You're getting that right., Kira remarked.
I didn't comment on that, partly because I didn't actually intend to let her hear that thought. It wasn't important or private enough to really be bothered by it, though. I noted down the names 'Taylor Keep' and 'Carmichael Point' as additional locations to visit as well, with a mention to look up where they were located - seemed simpler and better to do it that way, but I'd go look at them on the side if I found the time, rather than being a particular priority.
Azimuth Contract 5/5
…Bypassing security protocols…
…Secure connection established…
The mycoid weapon has been successfully delivered by a CMDR John Jameson. The brave pilot did not return home. A shame; I would have liked to shake the hand of a man who has contributed so profoundly to the end of the Thargoid war.
Reports suggest that the remaining Thargoid forces are in full retreat from human space. Some INRA personnel are convinced this is a decisive victory from which the Thargoids will not recover, but I disagree. It is likely they will resurface in time, too impudent to accept human dominance.
We must prepare for that eventuality. INRA has served its purpose, but the cross-superpower nature of the organisation leaves it vulnerable to corruption and politics. Azimuth is well suited to take up the mantle of protecting humanity against any Thargoid retaliation.
Our rivals such as Pharmasapian cannot be trusted with this task. They lack the patience and the stomach for what is required. Only Azimuth, under my direction, will be capable of the necessary action to wipe the Thargoid race out forever.
If I must be humanity’s salvation, then so be it.
I sighed and shook my head, at this blatant display of an overinflated ego and self-importance. Delivering a potentially genocidal weapon hadn't been enough. No, he had to continue on his moronic, pointless crusade driven by a completely irrational desire for revenge and... "human dominance". Like we deserved to rule the galaxy, or have the technology of a species that was spacefaring when we were - probably - still hairy apes swinging in trees and making unintelligible noises at each other. If apes even existed millions of years ago. And wanting to wipe the Thargoids out? That was just the cherry on the cake. The more I learned, the more I understood why there were so many people who hated this idiotic, moronic nutjob. And he couldn't even keep himself dead when his time was due, possibly risking to attract even worse than the Titans now. Whatever form that could take.
I'd have to look into who this 'Pharmasapien' was. Or what, rather, given that it seemed to be an old rival company - one that certainly didn't exist now. I'd never heard of them, even prior to any memory loss, or they were under a different name at the very least, and completely unrecognizable as something that would have rivalled Azimuth. Something in my memories said their rivalry was not particularly 'clean', though I couldn't say where that came from - regardless, it didn't surprise me.
I wondered if those beacons I'd found out in the direction of Barnard's Loop had anything to do with them. Something for me to investigate later, still - while I was through all the logs, I had some poking to do. Which remained limited to driving around, and finding nothing of real interest. Maybe the two storage tanks, which were... more than a little corroded, and had strange symbols on them along with a hazard warning. Mycoid storage - while I'd heard the Thargoids were now immune to it, there was nothing in my body, organic or biomechanical, that felt like putting this immunity to the test.
Alba had apparently been informed of this place's existence too, after the dissolution of Aegis, as further digging revealed. Presumably, by Seo. Seemed like... it'd been found or become more public knowledge by a request toward independent pilots to investigate this location, and I had been here already too. Evidenced by both the already available system map and this specific body being mapped, as well as the message asking to investigate it to shed light on Salvation. Which, I had to assume, I'd done gladly.
I returned to my ship and, feeling tired after these trips, as well as witnessing the beginning of the assault on Taranis, decided to just go back to the fleet carrier immediately. I set an initial jump to a system at the near-maximum range of the carrier, after landing, and headed into the private cabin of my ship, not even bothered to go into the hab quarters of the carrier itself. After peeling myself out of the suit and clothes, I floated over and slipped into the nice, spacious sleeping bag on the wall, which even came with extra padding around the back of the waist, to give it the impression that it was up against something, rather than what it was actually like, with the excessively - and nicely - large backside always acting as some kind of buffer, creating quite a lot of space between the center of my body and, well, it. Or acting as a very effective, soft, fat cushion. Even though it was a little weird, that just... made me like it even more. Once I began to feel nice and cozy in the warmth, I quickly fell asleep, not even noticing the movement of the carrier when it entered the Witch Space rift.
A few hours later...
I couldn't sleep. What I'd seen and heard at Taranis' location, and what I could feel through the hivemind from it, was giving me really bad nightmares. And a headache. The latter of those, I was able to alleviate with enough painkillers, but the nightmares... even medication couldn't stop them, because they were just not products of my brain, or certainly not entirely. So I'd set up another carrier jump, to the location of the first of those strange beacons I'd randomly stumbled across on my way to Oaken Point. But until that jump completed... I stayed snuggled into the sleeping bag, keeping my eyes closed to at least try to let my brain rest in a kind of idle phase a little longer, as much as I could with all the noise in my head.
Thankfully, it seemed like increasing the distance to the Titans reduced the amount of information I was getting through the link, becoming... almost tolerable as soon as the carrier disappeared in the hyperspace tunnel. I looked at my bed while it was moving, wondering if it wouldn't have been better to sleep in there. But with the new... shape, of my body, trying to be comfortable in that, while in zero G, would be difficult. To the point I didn't even bother to try - I'd have needed to figure out some way to keep the pillow tower assembly under my waist stable, and attached to the bed with a strap, then myself too, which posed a whole other problem due to the sheer size of certain of my body parts, and would probably be uncomfortable, while I still couldn't roll around on my fat 'mass' without either messing with or removing the pillow contraption... it just wasn't worth it. The only advantage would be not having any weight on my chest interfering with positions where I was not on my back. Or even on it.
The carrier came out of hyperspace. Once it was at a - relative - standstill, I began to unzip the sleeping bag, fighting a little with it and my breast once I got to that level, then floated over to the drawer where I'd stuffed my clothes... while doing my best to keep the mass of fun on my chest from floating up into my face. Even with a bra, it had a tendency to behave in quite a funny way in zero G, until it was fully constrained in something more encompassing. Once in those clothes, I put on the suit, and was... kind of glad to be magnetically attached to the ship's floor. Or wherever I desired, but generally, I preferred what was oriented to be the floor of the ship. Floating was nice for only a little while, before it got disorienting.
I returned to the cockpit, where EDI came to life, having probably observed my wakeup routine, once I was in the seat.
"You have not slept very long, Kira. Is something wrong?", the AI inquired.
"Just... can't sleep." I gestured at my head. "Nightmares. But are you not... monitoring?"
"I was monitoring your vital signs and registered the activity within your brain. However, I believe humans prefer vocal exchange, rather than be told indirectly, that they are under surveillance."
"Oh... of course."
"What were you planning to do?"
"See what those beacons are that I... we found yesterday." I hit the 'return to surface' prompt, and looked at the clock to reassure myself that it was in fact the next day. Only by a few hours, though. The warm light of the M class dwarf ahead filled the cockpit. "I want to know if they lead anywhere."
I didn't get a further response, and so assumed EDI had nothing further to say - an AI of that level certainly had more than sufficient spare processes to check the ship prior to takeoff and still chat with me. I'd have to ask how I made her one day, too... if I hadn't already, and forgotten afterward that I did. Although it mattered little if I did or didn't recall, anyway. I hit the launch prompt, locked the beacon near the star as the target, and engaged supercruise. Took less than a minute to get there, but once it was scanned, only a cryptic line of text was provided.
AZB2/H002255/TX-B-11
I scratched my head, trying to figure out what to do with this. Some vague memories seemed to float around under the surface, teasing me, yet refusing to solidify, remaining just out of my reach... a little annoying, but maybe the second beacon would give me the jumpstart that the brain needed. I plotted a course to its location, just under two-hundred light years away. And I received a similarly cryptic message.
AZB2/H002255/TX-B-13
This time, something clicked. "AZB" had to stand for "Azimuth Bio"... something. Biochemicals, maybe. A suspicion that quickly confirmed itself when I checked the data tags and found it to be well over a century old. So something had dropped this beacon here well over a hundred years ago, but... for what reason? Tracking purposes, maybe?
That seemed likely. Both 'messages' were numbered, but also didn't provide any useful information for further pursuit of the trail, and it looked like I'd missed one too, between this and the previous one. But... that didn't matter now. I had enough of a hint from this, and things began to... return to me. This was the trail of an old Azimuth megaship, and its name... I needed to think for a few seconds. It was... Hesperus. The Hesperus. That was it. Its purpose out here still eluded me, but... maybe I didn't need or care so much to know.
The number '2' had to mean something. "H002255" was most likely its registry number - but the 2 seemed to indicate it was the second ship. So there was a first one. And... I remembered its name too. The Adamastor. The arrival of which had kicked off this whole madness three years ago, or it would soon be three - maybe even four, the memory was not that accurate - ultimately leading to the creation of the Proteus Wave, the invasion of the Titans, and now... this. Us fighting back against those Titans with yet more Guardian technology, and the aim to kill them off by making them overheat. Or whatever the end result was supposed to look like. Either way, it would not be something I'd like.
"EDI? Find what you can on the Hesperus and... Adamastor, please."
"Of course."
There was one other memory left, but it also seemed to be the most difficult... and most intact, to recover. But I got it back, and it was... a location, of some kind of secondary craft of the Hesperus. Its name wasn't there, or what it did, but a location - Trapezium Sector YU-X c... it became foggy after that, and I was unable to get the full system name. Only that there was a '2' in there as well, but nothing beyond that. It was in the region, though, so I could just fly there right away, from here. At first, I attempted 'Trapezium Sector YU-X c2-0', but repeated search attempts led the galaxy map somewhere completely different, over a thousand light years in distance - that was no good. I knew it was not that far away... and nowhere close to the Trapezium nebula at that. Or under whichever name that nebula existed. It certainly wasn't one I could find with that designation.
Those few failed attempts made me decide to try something else, and just enter 'Trapezium Sector YU-X', which produced... two immediate results. Trapezium Sector YU-X c1-0 and YU-X c1-2. The first had no data, so I decided to check the second, and... jackpot. Its system map was available to me, so that had to be it. Especially with a '2' in its name. It was a little further away, just outside the maximum distance I could cover with a fuel tank, but not worth calling in the carrier for - I did have a scoop installed to be functional outside the Bubble without it. And flying manually would be faster, in this case.
The point of interest was already tagged when I arrived, but it didn't occur to me to just use the nav panel, and I checked the system map instead. Moon 1 A had... more than one signal. Human, Guardian and Thargoid... the latter two greatly confusing me. What were both doing in the same place together? And what was that human ship doing down there?
More questions than answers. I locked the human signal - labelled as 'AZB2/H002255/SC-01', with 'SC' presumably standing for secondary craft - and headed over. Didn't take much more than a minute, given the short distance to the moon. On the night side, of course, so it was time for night vision. Once close enough, I could visually identify an Anaconda sitting there, but it... didn't appear to have crashed, given its relatively intact state for an unmaintained, over a hundred years old ship. Wouldn't have surprised me if feeding it some fuel and doing a little bit of basic maintenance could have gotten it to fly again, but I didn't really care to do so. This was Azimuth history, and it could stay stuck on this moon for all I cared.
I left the ship parked in a way that its lights kept the old Anaconda and some kind of small, makeshift outpost lit up, but it was a little too creepy without the night vision giving me some form of visibility over the surroundings, so I kept it on as well. Not a lot to be found - a data point and two log uplinks containing, well, logs of what'd happened here. I scanned the data point first, then the two log uplinks. They contained text logs, rather than voice, so I got to reading.
Proteus Log 1
Timestamp: 21/09/3113 18:25
This is Lieutenant Hugo Kelemen. I was deputy security chief aboard the Hesperus, working for Azimuth Biochemicals. I've decided to resume my reports, even though the chances of us being rescued seem to be shrinking each day.
After Pharmasapien's sleeper agents took control, I managed to get some of the science team off-ship using the Proteus. For the record, Private Adriana Velasco performed her duties exceptionally, and her family should be informed of her bravery. We only escaped thanks to her. I just hope she found her own way home.
I wanted to set course for an inhabited system, but Dr Farrell insisted on investigating readings sent back by one of Azimuth's deep-space probes. She believed that Pharmasapien would focus on all the probes they'd sent to the California Nebula, but that we might find something interesting in the opposite direction.
Well... she was dead right about that.
There's no doubt that the structures on this moon weren't built by humans. Those strange arches and monoliths are over a million years old, according to molecular scans. Ackermann, the xenoarchaeologist, said it felt like he was walking through the ruined temples of forgotten gods. I just felt like a trespasser.
We've also found even stranger things, half-buried in the ground as if fallen from the sky. But they look more like starfish than starships... the sort of deep-sea creatures you find on ocean floors. What the hell flew around in those?
Farrell thinks we're looking at an ancient battleground. The structures and the starfish-things are nothing alike, suggesting totally different species. Two intelligent races on the same world - incredible! Both far more technologically advanced than us, but not so advanced they didn't try to kill each other.
This is exactly what Azimuth has been looking for, although I doubt they ever expected a discovery like this. I'm more concerned about surviving long enough to tell them about it.
We've been here for two months now, living off recycled air, food and water. The scientists have turned the Proteus into a research facility, and all I can do is keep out of their way while they analyse their findings and test samples. They've almost forgotten that we barely escaped mass slaughter.
I spend a lot of time monitoring the sensors. If those Pharmasapien mercenaries find us, we won't stand a chance. But I can't understand why Azimuth hasn't sent out rescue parties. Unless... the sleeper agents sabotaged our beacons before they were dropped? Did they pre-program them to stop transmitting?
If they did, then nobody knows we're here. We're alone. Just us and the ghosts of the gods.
3113? That was nearly two centuries ago. Made it even more impressive that the ship looked as it did, instead of being even more worn.
I had to wonder about the rest of that log, too. Sleeper agents who'd taken over the Hesperus? That proved the idea of less-than-loyal competition of these two corporations. Both seemingly were interested in alien technology. And they'd certainly found it here. If this was a battleground, it also explained the presence of Guardian structures and Thargoid ships. Two of the former, five of the latter - one marked distinctly as a Thargoid shipwreck, the others only as 'crash site'.
It seemed quite evident no one had ever come to rescue these people. No bodies around either, though, so... I'd likely find a less-than-pleasant sight if I chose to try entering the hab module. Which maybe wasn't such a good idea... I'd have to decide later. With this log being two months after their landing, it made me wonder how much longer they had then stayed here. Or if this moon ever saw daylight on this side of it, given that it was tidally locked. Probably, but I didn't know how it all worked well enough.
The mentioned worry of the Pharmasapien mercs finding this little outpost evidently hadn't come true either, if this discovery was never made until two centuries later - there was no way it would have stayed hidden for that long if found. Yet Azimuth never did either, looking at that information - or guess - of the log creator that the beacons, two of which I'd found, were sabotaged. How different would history have looked if this had been uncovered prior to the first war with the Thargoids?
I could only wonder. And I also wondered what'd happened to these people. Given that there was only a second log, and it was dated just five days later... it probably wasn't pretty. The log confirmed as much.
Proteus Log 2
Timestamp: 26/09/3113 04:04
This is... this is Kelemen. I've just given myself the last of the stimulants. That should... should keep me going long enough to record this.
To tell Azimuth. How we died.
Three days ago, I went with the survey team to the structures. Ackermann and Zhou had brought something to life. I saw this pillar rise up from the ground with a large crystal inside it, blazing a brilliant light. After a million years, their machinery was still functioning!
They fired up some kind of high-energy particle accelerator, which shocked the crystal from its moorings. This didn't feel like archaeology to me - more like grave robbing.
I should have known there'd be defences, but the hovering drone caught us by surprise. It vaporised Ackermann along with three others. I managed to destroy it eventually, but there were more of them gliding around the structures, and we got out fast.
I offered to take the crystal back, thinking the drones might come looking for it, but Dr Farrell already had her experiments ready to go. Weapons experiments.
She told me that was always the priority for both the Adamastor and the Hesperus. Locate non-human technology that could be developed for the military market. Azimuth wants to be the first corporation selling alien weaponry, which will make them bigger than Sirius. That's all they care about... that's who I've been working for all these years. No better than Pharmasapien after all.
A few hours ago, I was woken up by this intense blue flash - it seemed to come from everywhere. I thought we were under attack. Then Farrell came stumbling out of her lab, her clothes and body burned black, and dropped dead.
The others started collapsing within the hour. I think there was some kind of radiation surge from the crystal we stole. I tried to get the ship's drive online again, but... too weak. Can hardly stand now. Pain in every muscle, vision is blurred. My skin is... like everyone else's.
God knows what experiments Farrell was running, but... now there's three... three dead races on this moon.
We shouldn't... be here. Humans... don't belong. If Azimuth finds us...
Please... don't find us...
So Azimuth had just been looking for the technology to create weapons. What a surprise. At least this man had some kind of... conscience, perhaps, and despised as well as regretted the actions of his team. Which had led to their deaths after stealing a Guardian relic... I presumed that was meant with the 'crystal' in the log anyway. And that experiment setting off a radiation pulse...
I sighed deeply. So this was what had led Salvation to discover that mechanism behind the Proteus Wave. And he'd even named it after this Anaconda, despite the fact that the person who had survived the longest regretted coming to this place, instead of heading back to inhabited space. He really had no respect.
I wanted to go look into that building. Wasn't much larger than a small room, really. I wasn't even sure what it was for. I put on a simple, transparent helmet, picked up my pistol from the side of the seat, and slipped - squeezed - out of the Scorpion. It really was a good decision I'd gotten its hatch enlarged, because even then I only just about had the necessary space.
Gravity being as low as it was, at .31G, I could have jumped up to the entry point, but I wasn't quite comfortable enough in my movement abilities to do that. But trying to climb the ladder with the shape that I had immediately made me regret not trying, and probably took longer than just jumping as well. Still, I was up here now, and a quick delivery of power to the door made it slide open. Unsurprisingly... the airlock was depressurized, but also no longer appeared functional. At least, not without quick repair work I wasn't bothered to do.
I moved in, not quite mindful enough of my hips to not bump one of its edges, making me curse under my breath for letting my shape get out of hand so much. I closed the entry door behind me, then cut through the interior bulkhead, which allowed a... relatively small amount of air into the chamber. Probably not enough to breathe, so I kept my helmet on. But this looked more like it was a small exterior hab unit, with no one inside at the time of everyone's death, and... I really didn't feel too bothered to search an entire Anaconda all by myself. And, while I could be guided by a strange, uncomfortable sensation which had its origin from somewhere within the ship, it likely would have a few corridors I'd struggle to fit through, much like the one of this habitation unit. So I went back outside.
Nothing interesting was around the old ship, making me return to mine. For a moment, I thought about going back to supercruise to visit the nearby wrecks, but... at just a hundred and fifty kilometers away, getting there would be a matter of... not even two minutes, at the highest speed I could achieve with this Phantom. Which was close to six-hundred meters per second. Evidently, I'd designed it well to outrun most attackers which I couldn't fight, but the ship was still armed nonetheless.
I flew over the various Thargoid wrecks without setting down, only stopping at the first one for a little longer to... observe. There was an interesting shape left, which looked much like the ship's core - the local wrecks being Interceptors - proving my brain's idea of their shape wrong. Not circular, but... whatever this was. Probably.
The Guardian site - one of two ruins marked in nav, but I only wanted to look at this one - looked a lot more intact than those wrecks. Which did not make me feel particularly great - not when I was surrounded by Thargoid shipwrecks as the only currently known hybrid to exist. But I investigated the site anyway, trying to ignore that very uneasy sensation caused by being surrounded with technology of the only adversary that had - presumably - beaten the Thargoids to date. Or upset them enough to keep an identification and response mechanism even more than a million years later, at least.
Powering this place up - or giving it a jolt to 'wake up', at least - would also be good practice for... other sites I knew I'd be visiting in the near-ish future. Since it appeared to be active, I drove to where I'd found through aerial survey and prior research, the data terminal to be, upon which two pylons raised themselves. Which finally triggered some Sentinels into activating, but the Scorpion's weapons made short work of them. I was able to rely on the site's symmetrical layout to locate the other pylons required to power it up, waiting to start the sequence until I had all of them uncovered, while disposing of the defense drones, and picking up one of the relics to insert into the machine, along the way.
Once all pylons were powered, I returned to the data terminal - got annoyed at the off-center placement of the insertion point - and... nothing happened when I dropped the relic. Confused, I tried again, but still no reaction. I tried all of the other items, despite my attempts at suppressing the negative urges of the implant, due to presence of Guardian tech, beginning to be less effective... still, nothing. I took that as my sign to depart, and the Thargoid parts of me were quite relieved to leave behind the ancient battleground as I took off.
Wondering why exactly these two species had clashed here, I had a closer look at the system map, and... it turned out to contain several human-terraformable worlds, which would have been of interest to the Guardians as well, a water world, and... an ammonia world. That did look like the most plausible explanation for why the two had fought, but it didn't explain what this outpost-like structure was so far removed from all other known Guardian sites, or at least the 'main' bubble of them closer to human space. And its builders certainly weren't around to tell any longer.
"I have recovered what information is available on the two Azimuth megaships.", EDI announced as the ship reached orbit.
"What did you find?"
"Most information available is what's been recorded following the re-discovery of those ships, but their primary purpose appears to have been seeking out alien technology. The Adamastor was sent out to retrieve a Thargoid artifact near the Coalsack nebula, after a science team discovered a Thargoid crash site and recovered what appears to either be a probe or sensor from the wreckage. System failures due to the interference of the Thargoid device forced it to return to inhabited space at sublight speeds, to its departure point in the Chukchan system after it was abandoned. The Hesperus headed in the direction of Barnard's Loop, but as the Proteus logs indicate, it was overtaken by Pharmasapien mercenaries before it could complete its task, and directed toward the California nebula. However, one of Azimuth's ship crew returned and introduced a lethal substance into the life support system that killed everyone onboard, leaving it stranded in an asteroid belt. It is another few hundred light years from here, if you wish to visit it yourself."
I shook my head. "I'm too tired to go over there, now. And I don't want to. What can you tell me about this... 'Pharmasapien'?"
"They appeared to be a rival company to what was then known as Azimuth Biochemicals, with a similar research focus on researching alien technology, weapons development or otherwise. They took over Azimuth in the thirty-second century, but dissolved some time between then and the thirty-fourth century, as did Azimuth, or at least those parts of it that did not avoid being taken over and merged."
"So, useless to know now. I think I've seen enough here."
'Also wish they'd stayed dissolved instead of getting us into this madness', I thought to myself.
My brain was beginning to exhaust what little energy reserves it had left, so I plugged a course back to the carrier in, partway through the route setting a jump back in direction Bubble. I felt... satisfied enough with where I'd gotten to, today, or the last twenty-four hours at least. The next stop... would be the place where it had all started. Or, at the very least, my latest predicament had. But for now, recovering for that took priority, and I passed out almost as soon as I arrived and snuggled back into the sleeping bag... after figuring out again where the best position for my arms inside of it was.
Yet, I still couldn't shake those feelings about the matter of Taranis during the brief moment of lucidity, while my brain was rapidly shutting down. It just seemed impossible for it to end well, for either side.