High Technology

The gleaming white halls were empty, the only sound being a gentle, almost imperceptible hum.

In a place larger than worlds, a single figure appeared in a flare of blue energies.

The voice appeared, silent to the outside world save for its digital signature. Bodiless, in a sense, yet always watchful.

Blink transit logged. Security and identity verified. Welcome to Vault 241, Admiral.

Red nodded, knowing this place, merely part of a far larger megastructure, was secure. It would not be found on any star chart or stellar navigation directory.

As was intended.

It wasn’t hard to find what he’d come here for. Few things had an overseeing AI with security measures that would shame the efforts of entire races. Then again, so did this entire vault anyway.

Red stopped before a pristine door, featureless save for a single clean bar of red light that turned blue as he approached.

The door promptly unsealed, sliding open with a whisper. And within, still contained within layer after layer of hypertech security, the item he’d come to see.

Projection only, please, Red thought to the ever-watching mind that guarded the vault’s many articles. And it responded smoothly even as a haptic projection of this particular item appeared. Of course, Admiral.

The faintly glowing golden triangle didn’t seem like much, barring its appearance. But like the classical saying went, looks were deceiving.

The Triforce of Power.

Taken away for safekeeping all those years ago after Beirn had finally been destroyed, both body and soul.

Even now, as a mere projection and not the genuine article hidden still, it called to him. Promising power beyond imagining, the ability to grant any of his desires, if he so wished.

Red hated it.

The records were clear – most who used this piece of the Triforce as its previous bearers had only grew mad with their power or lusted for more.

No single person, no matter how virtuous, could ever be trusted with this thrice-damned Sierpinski Triangle. Red had entertained the possibility of destroying it, many times over. But rationality held that thought back.

Even with the mindbreakingly advanced hypertechnology available to this place and many hidden others, an artifact like this was indestructible. And the consequences of such an act were unfathomable. Better that it remain outside of anyone’s reach forever than risk potential destruction on a cosmic level.

That’s enough viewing for me, thank you. End projection, please.

The AI complied silently, the projected Triforce disappearing as Red left the chamber. The door sealed itself with another whisper shortly thereafter.

The Fleet Admiral inhaled cold air as he returned to where he’d arrived at, his thoughts on the events associated with the Triforce of Power.

It had been nearly four decades since Beirn’s attack on the Coalition. So much had changed. The Initiative had grown in technological capability almost a hundredfold, as had many of their allies.

Yet for all that, was it ever enough? Even now, projections of their odds of success against the same infamously huge Brotherhood force that had attacked them were still dangerously low.

Sure, a modern Coalition fleet would have wiped out over 80% of those enemy forces. But it still wouldn’t have been enough to prevent the eventual capture of Coruscant.

The same Brotherhood fleet would die in minutes to the entire Minerva system’s defenses, but that was hardly a fair comparison.

Red had suspected the Triforce of Power had been responsible for those insanely large numbers of vessels. How else would a fourth-rate stellar power have managed to bring a force that far outnumbered even the vaunted Forerunner Navy at its height?

A good thing now that no one would be able to find and use it again, for better or worse.

Before he left the installation, Red heard the AI’s voice again.

Preparing secure transit. Good day, Admiral.

A quiet nod was all the mind got in reply, Red vanishing in a burst of blue.

And the halls were silent once more.