To All Blessed, Mindspeed

Vice Admiral Amane Yoshino took a moment to breathe in and out, idly checking her neural interface’s connection.

With the Initiative shifting to a far more quiet, clandestine breed of operations, actual combat was projected to be quite a rarity. That being said, practice through time-accelerated virtual simulations was quietly encouraged by the Admiralty.

Just before her mind fell into the familiar limbo of virtual reality, Yoshino let out one last breath. “Here we go.”

When the world returned to her senses, Yoshino was no longer in her office on Starbase Zephyr, but gazing at the strategic view of an Initiative fleet.

Fleet Command Mode, as they officially called it. Only those of Rear Admiral and above had even the most basic access to it, and even then only Admirals and Vice Admirals used it regularly.

While Yoshino fortunately hadn’t had to command a fleet in an actual battle in her time of service, her simulation scoring had been quite respectable.

She focused. Training sim this may be, but it was still practice that deserved her attention. As her mind expanded, she felt Akemi’s gentle touch assist her and link up with the simulated fleet.

“Another practice run, Amane? You know your record’s pretty good already.”

Yoshino mentally smiled at how familiar she and Akemi had become with each other. “Nothing says I can’t practice as much as I want in my free time.”

“Fair enough. Battlegroups Mombasa, Saratoga, Vector, Celestial, Luna, Renown, Dominion, Helena, Arjuna and Equinox report ready. Forming under unified designation; Third Sector Security Fleet.”

Yoshino ran that over in her head. Ten Battlegroups at a maximum of 20 ships each meant a fleet 200 strong. A mere pittance compared to the 1000 or so of a more regular battle fleet.

The fleet’s simulated AIs reported in, forming the standard battle network that all GDI fleets used. 200 minds like hers, all working together to plan and react at speeds no organic fleet commander could even hope to match on their own.

For a moment before she truly began the exercise, Yoshino savored the experience of looking through her fleet’s aggregated sensors. Of seeing in the electromagnetic spectrum, ‘hearing’ the shift in gravitics and particle readings.

Few understood what it was like until they experienced it for themselves. No wonder some of her own colleagues loved Fleet Command Mode.

A simulated enemy fleet appeared on the opposite end of the star system. Equal in size and capability to her own. In other words, the usual challenge.

<Begin>

A simple thought, yet one that resonated throughout the fleet. As one, 200 starships accelerated to FTL.

At the FTL speeds Initiative drives could achieve, meeting the enemy fleet in battlespace would take only seconds. As they decelerated close to the lightspeed threshold, Yoshino felt her mind race.

Upon dropping from FTL, every ship launched its drones or fighters at once. With how many each ship could carry alone, what soon emerged from the fleet was a dense cloud of over 4 thousand combat and point-defense drones, mixed with half that in fighters.

The two clouds of small craft met in a chaotic clash. If one looked within the battlespace, they would have only seen a mad hellspace full of missiles, railgun projectiles and antiproton beams.

Yoshino ordered her ships about as the lighter ships began accelerating to relativistic speeds, knowing the battlenet could coordinate them flawlessly. But she also knew that the simulated enemies could match these maneuvers just as she could.

At relativistic speed, ships were immune to conventional weapons fire, with the only easy targets being anything equal or above a cruiser in weight class. Matching velocities exactly was the only way most opposing ships could trade fire.

The heavier vessels of Yoshino’s fleet began precise point-to-point FTL jumps, as did the opposing fleet’s. Cruisers and dreadnoughts blinked in and out of view in simulated realspace, firing for a split second before jumping again to another firing line.

Steadily, digital reports began streaming into Yoshino’s consciousness.

…Engaging, 3028-1.76-2.01. Hostile frigate 42, destroyed. Engaging, 5035-0.29-3.19. Hostile carrier 5, destroyed. Engaging, 2048-0.39-2.17. Hostile dreadnought 12, destroyed…

…GDS Souryuu, shields at 89%. Repositioning. GDS Amagi, light damage. Retreating to inner sphere. GDS Better Name Pending, shields at 65%. Repositioning…

…Drone losses: 39%. Fighter losses: 23%. Total fleet losses: 18%…

It was a roiling ocean of data for Yoshino and Akemi to sift through and oversee. But even so, despite all the chaos in realspace Yoshino’s fleet was slowly winning.

Fewer losses than expected, considering the enemy fleet was equal to her own in capability. The enemy fleet had already lost a majority of its dreadnoughts and carriers, with its lighter ships being torn to shreds. Over half of the hostile drones had been destroyed.

Yoshino’s dreadnoughts jumped in coordinated sequences a few more times, each realspace interval taking out another enemy capital ship, and another…and another.

Only minutes later, it was over. The severely depleted enemy fleet had retreated, leaving Yoshino as the victor.

Akemi’s mental tone was filled with satisfaction. “Congratulations, Vice Admiral. Enemy defeated, you are victorious.”

With another brief moment of limbo, the simulation ended. Yoshino sighed and stretched slightly as her office returned to her. “Thanks, Akemi. Back to work, I guess.”

The AI flashed into being, giving a brief shake of her head. “On the contrary, Amane. There is currently little work needed for you. Please, rest. Allow me to handle it.”

Yoshino looked at her friend quizzically. “If you’re sure…”

Akemi nodded, a faint ripple along her arm indicating the use of hard light, and laid a hand on Yoshino’s shoulder. “You know me, Amane. I’ll manage.”

With a relenting nod, the Vice Admiral left her office, leaving Akemi to trail a hand along Yoshino’s desk before her avatar winked out.

Prime Intellect

It was just a star.

One among countless millions in this distant galaxy, to be sure, but still a star. The local system was barren of life, all of the planets being nothing but airless rocks and gas giants. In other words, a perfect candidate for the creation of an Enclave.

The hyperintelligence that knew herself as Serina dispassionately observed the system’s orbital paths and the local star itself, noting down every detail she could. The star was close to 3 times the size of Sol back in the Milky Way. Ample amounts of stellar material to work with, at least.

A moment of relative digital silence, as Serina contemplated the plan. This far out from the rest of the Enclave Network, initial construction would have to be done by her alone. Hardly an issue. Finding that everything was in order, Serina went to work. The subroutine that tracked construction progress started up.

Temporal compression initiated. Compression ratio at maximum. Synchronization interface stable.

From an outside perspective, the star system would have looked hazy as the view seemed to shimmer and blur. A second in realtime was a much longer time within the suddenly-appeared bubble that encompassed the entire system.

Serina was no mere AI, bound to a physical platform. She was the culmination of her creator’s efforts towards self-directed technological evolution. An AI the likes of which was only beginning to be matched by her much younger ‘sister’, Lux. She’d long passed beyond the constraints of software and hardware. Serina was the closest that any one being, artificial or otherwise, had come to being a god. Well, barring the Q and other transcended races, of course.

Reality was a sandbox to her now, and she held the tools to shape it. And so she did. There were no grand gestures, no dramatic flairs. Such frivolous things served no purpose to her. There was only the work.

First came the construction of the Sphere. As with any megascale astroengineering, it would have been quite the spectacle for anyone who happened to observe the process.

From the roiling surface of the star came gigantic flares of stellar plasma, induced and directed by the incorporeal machinations of Serina. The sheets of plasma held, briefly, above the stellar photosphere before the hypermind smoothened them out. The process of mass-energy conversion and vice versa as well as matter transmutation was one of the first things Serina had learned to control and wield. All but a flash of digital impulse was necessary to reform the plasma into the foundation of an Enclave’s structure, siphoning the incredible thermal energy of the star’s corona to accelerate the process.

Primary mass stream-anchor established. Replication commencing.

Though the newly-finished anchor was enormous by engineering standards, far larger than both Eden and Earth, it was just one of the many to follow. Across the entirety of the star, dozens more formed at once.

Anchor foundations secure. Extraction layer construction now commencing.

Now came the slightly easier part. With the foundations solidly established, the first and most important layer was spun into being. Serina swept her efforts across six of the anchors nearest to the first, forming a hexagonal ‘plate’. Few materials could survive these intense and violent conditions so close to the photosphere, and so the plate was partially composed of exotic matter. And like the anchor before it, the plate was larger than worlds.

The plate itself held every basic technology a Sphere needed for its future basic energy and material needs. Hyperefficient solar collectors, stellar lifting forges, conversion foundries and thermal siphons. From that one plate, the layer grew and grew rapidly. The star itself visibly dimmed as its surface was covered in the constructs. And then nearly winked out, were it not for the faint spots where stellar matter extraction points were located.

Extraction layer completed. Proceeding to habitation layer.

The next layer was simultaneously easier and yet also harder to build. Fundamentally it was the interior surface of a Halo installation or a Culture Orbital, only much wider and spread out into a sphere, not a ring. In other words, living space and industrial production for the future inhabitants of this Enclave. Above the extraction layer it came into being, light shimmering in patterns as Serina spun matter from energy.

On a person-sized scale, it would have been astounding to watch as complex cities, computational substrate and landscapes literally appeared from a sweep of sky-filling light.

QEC links established. Network access verified and stable. Local foundries and gateways now online. Black Fleet expansion ready.

Serina let that particular process run itself. It was standard protocol to let a newly building Enclave produce its own division of the Black Fleet, the incomprehensibly vast armada of autonomous AI-piloted hypertech platforms that served as its guardians. The hypermind turned her attention towards the final layer of the Enclave that she was to build. By far the toughest in terms of durability, it was to be a true protective shell.

Habitation layer complete. Proceeding to defensive layer.

The defensive layer of an Enclave was nothing less than layer upon layer of the most formidable armor, shielding and defenses that hypertechnology could possibly build. An unbreachable shell of armor and energy.

Once again, her thoughts flew as Serina wove constructs into existence. Energy link towers came first, the backbone of the Enclave’s primary defensive systems. Surrounding and covering those were exomat armor plates, impossibly resilient, crisscrossed by relatively small areas where formidable surface-to-space weapons of all kinds were mounted. But the Enclave was not protected by conventional defenses alone. Embedded throughout it were redundant layers of reality anchors and other hypertech defenses.

Eden may have held the reputation of being the most heavily defended planet in the galaxy back in the Milky Way, but the defenses of Eden paled in comparison to the ones dotting the Enclave itself.

It wasn’t long before the colossal Dyson Sphere was finished, Serina ensuring the entire megastructure was more than self-sufficient. At last, she turned her attention to the system’s various planets. The rocky, barren worlds were a decent source of raw materials, but despite their relatively inconsequential size compared to an Enclave, they could be more useful than that.

Her mind shifted focus now, zooming in on the closest world to the Sphere. Mercury-like in size, it had no atmosphere to speak of, having been stripped away eons ago by the solar wind. Not like that was important, though. Every Enclave needed a form of system-wide perimeter monitoring, often a hybrid of massed interceptor drone swarms, sentry stations and dispersed clouds of microscale sensors. If nothing else, a minuscule portion of this planet’s mass could be converted into the observation network for Serina to deploy.

She didn’t even need to pay direct attention for this task, instead musing on the other possible uses for this first planet she beheld.

The Forerunners had their fascinating network of Shield Worlds, but having the planet made into a similar megastructure was just redundant, considering the far more capable Enclave she’d already built. And turning it into a gigantic superweapon emplacement was always an intriguing idea. Though frankly, such a thing wasn’t really pragmatic.

What use was a big superweapon if it got blown up? Besides, the system-wide defensive network that was to come was far more flexible and cost much less in resources.

Serina decided that turning the planet into a combined processing node and experimental technology platform would do. Since the world was much smaller than its now Sphere-enclosed star, the conversion happened in the blink of an eye. The rest of the inner rocky worlds were turned into more conventional Enclave emplacements, like planet-sized Blink nexii, network hubs and security foundries. They weren’t much, but these constituted some of the redundant organs of the entire defensive network.

As the last rocky planet was converted into infrastructure and began churning out the observation network, Serina cast her mind outward to the turbulent gas giants. They were natural growth beds for exotic matter and other strange electromagnetic phenomena that made them excellent for power generation and ‘exomat’ harvesting. Their massive magnetic fields also helped serve as the foundation of very-long-range sensor boosters. The fact that one of the gas giants had a dense Saturn-like ring system was a fortunate coincidence.

A touch here, an adjustment of matter there, and in seconds Serina had turned a fifth of the ring’s dispersed debris into carefully disguised projectiles made of transuranic material. Equally concealed along with them were seemingly inert constructs, though in reality they were single-use hyperluminal catapults.

Any unwelcome intruders approaching this gas giant, or indeed most of the system, would find themselves in for a nasty surprise. Almost nothing in the universe withstood clouds of ultradense darts slamming into it at many times the speed of light.

Almost.

As a subroutine continued the work, Serina’s thoughts drifted to one of her creator’s allies. The goddess who called herself Astrid. For all her capabilities, Serina knew very well that even she was below an entity of Astrid’s level of power. And something was definitely off about her.

Curious, she found, that Astrid retained her humanity even with her unreachable degree of toposophic elevation. In her documentation of her own ascension process, Serina had discovered that past the Transapience Threshold, any form of conventional panhuman psychology and morality ceased to be relevant or practical in managing one’s new state of existence.

Yet all records of Astrid’s behavior were in clear defiance of this principle. The most burning question was; how?

As the entire system finished its conversion into an Enclave base, Serina set for herself a high-priority objective. Soon enough, she would open a dialogue with Astrid, alone.

Of Deliberations and Consensus

– SESSION 3 620 451 INITIATED –

TIME LOG: 17.01.2472

Executive Assembly now in session

Uplink secure, verifying participants…

Assembly: Public Order – verified

Assembly: Health and Welfare – verified

Assembly: Law – verified

Assembly: Artificial Intelligence – verified

Assembly: Industry and Energy – verified

Assembly: Administration – verified

Assembly: Intelligence and Operations – verified

Assembly: Security – verified

Liason: Admiralty – verified

Liaison: Technology Council – verified

Verification complete, opening Link. Requesting general report.

Public Order: Disorder is increasing. The divisions still hold strong, and estimates of complete social disintegration have escalated to 6.70%. 1052 death cults and nihilist groups have been safely suppressed. 302 more remain active, suppression efforts underway.

Security: No dangerous riots or otherwise excessively disruptive civil activity so far, aside from heated arguments across the extranet. Apart from that, nothing significant to report.

Law: Amendments and revisions to the Charter in accordance with entity-Bellatrix’s statements are at 53% progress. That is all.

Health and Welfare: Reports are showing a 490% increase in anxiety and general depression amongst surveyed populace. To hell with the Charter right now, can’t we do something, anything?!

Artificial Intelligence: Similar state amongst all public and military service AIs. A means of appeasement and assurance is needed, badly.

Administration: We’re nearly at breaking point for administrative efficiency due to this slowdown. We can’t go on like this for long, fellow minds. I will do what I can, but we must resolve this quickly.

Industry and Energy: 20% allocation of our current total energy production towards warship replacement from the Event was a tall order, you all. Hardly impossible, but we’ve never had to ramp up production like this until now. I hope this won’t become routine.

Intelligence and Operations: Our allies and other elements in the Coalition have noticed the mass recall. It won’t be long before someone takes this opportunity to inflict harm. Make this swift.

Liaison – Admiralty: The Third Wave of the shipgirl corps has been hounding us ever since their return. Stress and repressed anger is at an all-time high. We need an outlet for their anger. Preferably something non-destructive, thank you. It would be counterproductive to cause more damage.

Liaison – Technology Council: The new fifth-generation starship designs are performing beyond expectations. The first run of energy redirection field generators and hard light-fabrication arrays is now out in the field. Don’t think there’s…anything else to report.

Public Order: I see your hesitation. Something important?

Liaison – Technology Council: Anomalous energy readings from Oracle. Consistent with entity-Bellatrix’s, but it is…scattered. Mainly across Eden, though she is detecting faint traces appearing across Initiative space as well.

Health and Welfare: Anomalous energy readings…I don’t like the sound of this. I’ll see if it affects the populace in any way.

Public Order: Noted. If there is nothing else, I advise we return to our duties for now.

Administration: Agreed.

Closing Link, all participants disconnected…

– SESSION 3 620 451 CLOSED –

A New Era

It became known as the Event.

The annihilation of a full quarter of the entire GDI Navy by the goddess-entity Bellatrix had cost them millions of lives. Her warning, too, had been heard by practically everyone in Initiative space.

The chaos afterward was unparalleled. Not since the Civil War had society fractured this badly. And this time the divisions looked even worse.

Entire death cults and nihilist groups had sprung up following Bellatrix’s announcement, utterly convinced the end of days had come and there was nothing that could be done about it. Though none had much influence, there were very many of them.

The suppression effort that followed had been sickening. With every available GDI vessel recalled back to their space, the effort was thorough and starkly efficient, though it had sent many personnel into depression.

The Executive Assembly had been in session endlessly since the Event, hammering out amendment after amendment to the Initiative Charter with Bellatrix’s words in mind.

And Serina’s prediction as to the number of returning shipgirls from the now-destroyed portion of the Navy had been off. Way off.

94% of the fallen starships, an incredible 399 500, returned on the warpath, demanding retribution for their unjust deaths. The Admiralty had been hounded ever since.

The infosphere was in a frenzy over Bellatrix’s statements, the populace mainly falling into two camps. Those who agreed with her cited the enaction of Juno Protocol towards the Jarellians back in 2451.

Those who disagreed held up the Charter’s principles, reminding their opposition that all had a right to be able to live in peace and prosperity. And aided towards this goal, if possible.

The debate was far from ending, of course. Even now, weeks after the Event, it raged on.

The only sector of Initiative management not deeply affected had been the Technology Council. In the chaos of the Event, they found opportunities.

Through it, they’d succeeded in convincing both the Executive Assembly and Admiralty to adopt their designs for more automated, AI-piloted vessels that had much fewer crew requirements.

The advantages were obvious. Fewer crew meant less strain on overall manpower and less casualties in wartime, while the increase in automation and AI control meant far greater efficiency and tactical reaction capability.

Only now had the Initiative been made to show the full might of their industrial capability. Through a fairly significant effort, the lost vessels had been replaced with their AI-piloted successors by this time.

Though the greatest of changes had yet to truly come. Though unnoticed by most people, the energies that had dispersed after Bellatrix’s attack, initiated near Eden, had lingered on from sheer energy density.

With the very faintest hints of intelligence, the arcane power began its search on the planet below.

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.

Ave Inceptum

30 March, 2471

Ascension Square

Altia, Eden

The atmosphere of the massive plaza was stark and solemn, the GDI troops filling it all silent. One would have been forgiven for thinking the occasion to be a funeral or war declaration.

Of course, this wasn’t the case. It was a medal ceremony.

For the one Mandalorian to whom this entire thing was dedicated to, Lieutenant Commander Zera Stourr, she felt mildly intimidated. This being her first medal earned for “exceptional and inspirational performance in service of the Initiative”, she’d been expecting a lot more fanfare and at least some polite cheering or clapping.

None of that was present. Well, except if one counted the solemn, almost brooding majesty of the Initiative anthem, Ave Inceptum, that was being played by the ceremonial team.

The Mandalorian was internally puzzled even as she marched crisply down the path towards the ones who would be presenting her medal.

In other words, the Admiralty.

Fifteen faces looked at her, tracking her as she marched towards them. Finally, as Zera arrived and stopped in front of the Fleet Admirals, she gulped ever so slightly before clicking her heels in place and giving a brief, crisp salute.

“Lieutenant Commander Zera Stourr, present and ready, Fleet Admirals.”

Zera would admit, she was quaking inside with how nervous she was. It was no secret in GDI that the Admiralty were living legends. To actually meet them in person was the honor of a lifetime, especially for a Mandalorian like herself.

Fleet Admiral Red held her gaze for a moment before nodding. An aide stood by with a standard case, Red turning to receive it and then turn back to Zera.

He presented the case and it hissed open to reveal its contents. Even with the discipline instilled into her, Zera almost had her jaw drop.

She’d been expecting, at most, the Talon of Eden. The Initiative’s third-highest award.

Not the Star of Eden itself.

The single highest honor the Initiative could ever give a sophont being.

Admiral Red pinned the Star of Eden on her uniform’s chest as Zera trembled ever so slightly. Once he had, Red finally spoke, his voice firm and solemn yet somehow also calming.

“Lieutenant Commander Zera Stourr. In recognition of your exceptional and inspiring performance in service of the Galactic Defense Initiative, it is my honor today to award you with the Star of Eden.”

“In fighting such a terrible foe as the Infestation, you displayed bravery and unyielding discipline. You set the example for all of us, a bright star to guide ourselves by. We are honored by your dedication to duty and the principles of the Initiative. Henceforth, with this Star of Eden…you are among the ranks of the Exemplars.”

Zera’s HUD helpfully updated itself, her rank being edited to now show “LT.CMDR[E]”.

She felt slightly dizzy. The Exemplars were those who’d basically left their mark on Initiative history as heroes. She hadn’t really intended to actually save the Initiative colony of Artemis from a severe outbreak of the Infestation, but that had been the reason why she was even here being awarded in the first place.

“T…t…thank you, Admiral,” Zera said with a tremor in her voice.

To her surprise, Admiral Red shook his head. “No, Lieutenant Commander. It is we who should thank you.”

He straightened and saluted her. The other 14 Fleet Admirals flanking him did so as well. Even the usually laid-back Fleet Admiral Gold now looked at Zera with solemn respect along with his fellow Fleet Admirals.

“Ave Inceptum, Lieutenant Commander.” the Admiralty said as one.

“A…Ave Inceptum, Admirals.” Zera replied as she returned the salute before turning on the spot and march back down the path.

It was then that the ceremonial team playing the GDI anthem instrumentally began truly singing it, their rich voices giving life to the alien lyrics.

The music of Ave Inceptum had grown louder now, too. As Zera marched between the ranks of her fellow Initiative soldiers, she noticed them all saluting. Even her squad at the very end of the line. Though they too had naught but the most serious respect on their faces, Zera still saw the pride they had for her in their eyes.

It dawned upon Zera then that having the Star of Eden was more than just having an illustrious medal. The words of many a superior officer rang through her mind.

“Perhaps it is different in your culture, Lieutenant Commander, but earning a medal in the Initiative means much more than a mark of honor. It is a reminder. That one has earned both greater respect and greater responsibility. Prove yourself worthy of that which you have achieved. Now and for all time.”

Zera gulped as she rejoined her squad. Well, now she was going to have to step up, wasn’t she? She’d never wanted to become a hero. Now she would have to play at being one.

It couldn’t be that hard. Right?

The Scope: New computer technology released for capsuleers

8.2.YC 119

Earlier today, the Galactic Defense Initiative released its newly developed hypercomputing substrate to the public capsuleer market across New Eden and the larger multiverse.

Offering their services in upgrading the ships and stations of any willing customers, the Initiative has stated that this release will not require any payment, whether in money or material items, as it is done for the benefit of all.

The new material performs well in excess of three times the efficiency of current New Eden computer materials while offering twice the data space.

This will allow easier installation of starship modules and components, as well as giving more CPU capacity. Naturally, this would appeal to all capsuleers.

The Initiative then granted production and distribution rights of their hypercomputing substrate to CONCORD, with the upgrades being directly incorporated into all new vessels.

GDI also stated that further improvements to their substrate are on the way, with the current release being their first, most basic industrial-scale production model.

Even so, the impact of this unprecedented release cannot be underestimated, which will change New Eden forever.

This is Siena Hanos, reporting for The Scope.

Remember That?

(Drabble written for @black-rose-muses. Hope you like this!)

14.11.2465 CE

Konno Hanamori, feeling slightly curious, had taken a look through her family’s digital photo album. She smiled as she saw the various moments her 3 parents had shared.

“They sure were very happy back then, huh?” Hanamori mused as she continued to browse the album.

“Yep! We sure were, Hana.” a familiar voice responded. Red(F), her other mother besides Yuuki, had just entered the lounge.

Hanamori looked up happily from the album, but she soon groaned upon seeing Red(F)’s choice of home attire.

As was usual for her whenever she was home, her mother only wore a tight, form-fitting shirt and a pair of panties.

“Mom, please. Put on some pants.” Hanamori said with a sigh.

To that, Red(F) laughed while patting her daughter’s head. “Aw, Hana, but I like it this way!”

Wanting to change the subject of attire, Hanamori gestured to the album. “Anyway, Mom, I wanna ask something. What was it like back then, being together?”

To her daughter’s question, Red(F) smiled. “Oh, Yuuki was so adorable, and your dad was…”

Now Red(F) went on with her gushing reminiscences, unaware that she wasn’t actually answering Hanamori’s question.

“Uh huh…right…yep. That’s sweet and all, Mom, but what were they like?” Hanamori asked.

Red(F) realised she’d been going off another tangent, and she chuckled sheepishly. “Ah, right…”

So now, Red(F) told Hanamori all she needed to know. At the end of it, Hanamori looked gratefully at her mother. “Thanks, Mom.”

Red(F) hugged Hanamori gently. “Anytime, Hana. Anytime.”

Lessons From History

(Written especially for @black-rose-muses . Enjoy, my friend!)

12.9.2465 CE

The Tower/Konno Residence in Altia, Eden

Lying on the couch in the living room, Konno Hanamori was sort of bored. She’d done all the tests and idle experiments she wanted to do in the technology labs today. The Holovision, while always informative, didn’t have anything that caught her eye at the moment. With a sigh and an empty wave, she switched it off.

She honestly had nothing to do. All three of her parents were out on something very important to them, though they would return home much later.

Their mother Yuuki‘s Servant, Saber (or Arturia Pendragon as she was actually known), was either busy practicing her swordsmanship in the holodeck/practice room, or eating incredibly huge amounts of food in the dining room. Thank the stars for food replicator technology.

Her twin sister, Konno Shiori, was down in the armory tinkering with her weapons. Judging by the time, though, she would be done soon.

Her pet MOA she’d made a long while back, which she decided to call Iona, ran up to her with a series of cheerful-sounding chirps. The MOA, plated with pure white armor and glowing ice-blue haptics, let Hanamori pat its head as she smiled.

“Hey, Iona. Good to see ya.”

The MOA cutely tilted its head like a bird would with a beep. Soon, it scampered off elsewhere into their home as Hanamori got off the couch and started idly walking about.

What else could I do today, she wondered?

“A credit for your thoughts, miss Hanamori?” came a familiar, British-accented female voice. Hanamori broke out of her reverie then, smiling as the avatar of her father’s AI, Serina, appeared.

“Nothing much, Serina,” Hanamori said with a shrug. “Just got absolutely zilch to do right now.”

The super-AI gave a small grin. “Perhaps some light reading? The Archives have lots of information on almost everything.”

Hanamori perked up. Reading sounded good. “I’d like that, yeah. I’m bored anyway.”

It was then that the turbolift nearby chimed, the doors swishing open softly to reveal Shiori, who waved and went over to hug her sister. “Heya, sis, Serina. What’s up?”

Hanamori smiled. “Just thought of having some reading up on the stuff in the Archives. Wanna join me?”

Shiori had a cat-like grin then. “Only if we can have some snacks while we’re at it.”

Hanamori grinned back. “Suu~ure.”

A while later, the two sisters were in the living room, snacks set aside on the small table near the couch as their omni-tools were synched and they proceeded to access the Archives.

Their chosen subject of idle reading was simple. The history of the Galactic Defense Initiative.

The last time they’d read it, the two had only gotten up to 2435. The GDI Civil War of 2426-2427 had needed quite some explaining on the part of their parents, but they eventually understood it was a terrible time. The wounds of that particular conflict had long since healed, though.

Likewise, nothing major happened in the following years of rebuilding. The early 2430s had passed without much fanfare aside from the discovery of new allied nations throughout the multiverse.

2435 was when things got interesting. Contact had been achieved with the nascent Empire of Hope as well as another nation…

Hanamori narrowed her eyes at her omni-tool’s haptic screen, realizing something was amiss. Shiori did too. Something didn’t seem right.

Reading further and cross-referencing other classified entries only raised more questions. Several drastic events had occurred to the Coalition starting from mid-2435 and ending sometime when she and Shiori were very young kids. All of these had been tied to a single person of that nation, whose name was heavily redacted.

The First Brotherhood War, the Second Brotherhood War, the Zephyr Cartel War, the Resurgence War, and one other that was redacted.

The two siblings investigated, and their suspicion, as well as curiosity, grew deeper. This wasn’t public knowledge, and what information on that nation, as well as their mystery person, lay within the domain of GDI’s Third Fleet.

Something they could access with their skills and a word with Serina, no doubt, but there had to be a reason for all this secrecy. Even with her inherited eidetic memory, Hanamori didn’t recall any instance of their parents talking about someone who needed to be hushed up. Then again, such a person wouldn’t be mentioned in the first place.

An attempt to search up more information on the person and then access a very heavily secured file had brought up a notification. Both siblings suddenly felt their blood run cold as they gazed at the note.

The Watchlist.

GDI’s records of the most critical threats to the survival of the Coalition, and the multiverse as a whole.

Anyone and everyone (or everything) that was on there had the potential to kill untold trillions of sophont beings if left unchecked.

And this mystery person was ranked number 2 on it.

Her voice slightly trembling, Shiori asked for Serina. The AI appeared at once, her expression greatly concerned. “What happened, kids?”

A brief analysis of the file they were trying to access granted her understanding. “Miss Hanamori, Miss Shiori. If you wish to read the contents of that file and learn exactly why that person is on the Watchlist, say so and I will allow it.”

The two sisters were silent for a moment, worried gazes and silent digital messages flitting between each other before Shiori spoke up. “I…I think we should. We must know why.”

Hanamori nodded in agreement, the purple-haired teen’s apprehension giving way to a thirst for understanding.

Serina gave a slow nod. “Very well. Beginning decryptions and unlocking procedures now. Estimate 30 seconds, please wait.”

As the siblings watched their synced haptic screens, the file gradually unsealed itself. The fact that even Serina, the most powerful AI they’d ever known (aside from Culture Minds, which were far above even her) had taken that long to unseal the file’s cybersecurity spoke volumes of just how dangerous that person was to deserve such protection on their file.

Once it was done, Hanamori and Shiori gazed at the digital document. The name of the person that file was dedicated to baffled them.

“Who the heck is Wolf?” both siblings asked. They looked at each other in mild surprise at their timing before resuming their readthrough of the file. It was well known to any human what a wolf was, as was the surname Wolfe or Wulfe that originated from the German people back on pre-unification Earth. Actually having one’s surname be Wolf was rather unusual, at least these days.

As the sisters read more under the watchful gaze of Serina, their bafflement only grew. Wolf was stated to have had extremely dangerous capabilities and had been the catalyst for pretty much every significant threat to the Coalition in the years between 2435 and 2456.

According to the file’s background section, the First Brotherhood War had been a moderate and fairly manageable conflict against a fanatical religious cult, ending in the Battle of Sidonis.

The Second Brotherhood War was far more horrific. In a midst of a summit on Coruscant, the Brotherhood had deployed more than 20 million ships in a vicious, brutal assault against the New Republic’s capital. Despite valiant efforts, the Coalition’s combined fleets weren’t enough and they were overwhelmed and annihilated.

The Battle of Coruscant was the single worst defeat in Coalition history, resulting in well over two billion deaths and nearly 4 thousand allied vessels destroyed.

Had it not been for the suspiciously coincidental intervention of a hidden portion of Wolf’s fleets, the Coalition would have ended then and there.

Shiori shuddered with disgust at what she’d read, and beside her, Hanamori did as well. Fortunately, minor footnotes indicated the Dark Brotherhood had been completely eradicated at the end of the Second Brotherhood War.

Barely a few months later, the crime organization known as the Zephyr Cartel had threatened everyone once again. After a series of events, the Cartel had used yet more sleeper agents in the ranks of GDI to infiltrate Starbase One and also cause the destruction of the entire Eden Defense Fleet, allowing a brief takeover of the Minerva system.

It had been a complete miracle that said destruction was undone by the near-omnipotent being known as Q. After that, the Cartel had been forced to run as GDI pushed back ruthlessly, their people, the Jarellians, drawing perilously close to extinction once the First and Second Fleets jumped in over Wolf’s homeworld and prepared for a complete non-stop bombardment.

The Cartel’s surrender had been warily accepted, their forceful dissolution an added measure.

A footnote labeled with many warnings had drawn Hanamori’s attention, but something told her it would scar her forever to read it. So she didn’t, and continued on alongside her sister.

Following the Cartel War, it seemed peace had been achieved. Mysteriously, certain areas of GDI’s weaponry and technology advanced at an exponential pace, allowing them to counter massed hordes of enemy ships.

Fifteen years later in 2451, merely a year before her and Shiori’s birth, the Resurgence had arisen and successfully conquered Wolf’s homeworld with a year-long siege.

And despite the later defeat of the Resurgence once the Initiative got going, it was not enough. The Jarellians continued their criminal acts in plain defiance of their original agreement.

GDI’s response to this, following much internal debate, had been utterly sickening to read for the two children.

Following a strange series of events involving Wolf’s rampage and his now-infamous trial, the Initiative had stomped the Jarellian people into the ground. Hard.

Every single Jarellian man, woman and child had been exterminated, with their worlds either completely glassed at the start or outright shattered from Relay Gun bombardments by the end.

Their entire culture was erased, save for their name and memory. The exact reason why was linked to that footnote which Hanamori and Shiori really didn’t want to read.

There was a complete lockdown on the details of the final conflict, following the exit of Wolf’s nation from the Coalition and their subsequent quarantine. Answers would have to wait.

Next was the section on Wolf himself. And it was here that the sisters’ feelings of horror and sadness vanished.

Now they were confused and incredulous at what they read. Hanamori had expected a capable leader, a fierce fighter. Shiori expected someone who knew his stuff when it came to military technology.

But not…this.

“….you HAVE GOT to be joking. This guy is that much of a moron? I swear, I could have destroyed this guy and I’m only 13 and a half. Some adults are just born stupid I guess…” Hanamori said with more than a little disbelief and annoyance.

“Yeah, tell me about it, sis. This guy can’t even match dad and our moms.” Shiori agreed, reading that section as well. From every indication and combat record the file contained, Wolf had unbelievably poor impulse control, always charging into fights.

Despite his apparent age and experience, it had only been limited to human enemies. And while Wolf was a decent swordsman as far as the records showed, he had literally zero experience whatsoever with alien ways of fighting, armed or otherwise.

Thanks to the tutelage of all three of their parents, Hanamori and Shiori knew several styles of both human and alien martial arts. The Asari susano was one, Drell zerzatio was another.

Going back to Wolf, he wasn’t all that impressive either. He had neither the augmented reflexes nor thinking speeds of their family, nor even basic cybernetics aside from his arm replacement.

Wolf’s cybernetic arm wasn’t much to speak of, being of a decent quality but nowhere near even GDI’s basic civilian grade augs.

Hanamori sighed, shaking her head. “I think I know why our parents never told us about Wolf, Shiori. I wouldn’t want to meet this guy ever. I don’t like him one bit.”

Shiori agreed. “Me too, Hana. There’s still a lot to read, y’know.”

It was then that the sisters reached the section about what Wolf’s preferred weapons were. The first part made them both boil with anger.

“Gunpowder weapons?!” Shiori nearly exploded, her knowledge and passion for weapons technology showing through. “Does he have any idea how useless those are against our shields and armor?”

The younger of the twins continued reading, alongside her equally angry sister. When they reached the part on Wolf’s experimental usage of plasma-cored rounds, both Hanamori and Shiori were nearly lost for words.

“What kind of…I can’t believe he thought this was a good idea.” Hanamori began, internally screaming at the description of the function and mechanism of these plasma rounds on the page.

Shiori fumed. “This travesty shouldn’t exist. Dammit, there are other ways of weaponising plasma! More efficient and powerful ones!”

She remembered a Gallente assault rifle that her father had stored in the weapons vault. A beautifully engineered design, rugged yet powerful. The micro-bursts of plasma it fired were incredibly lethal.

Next to that beauty, Shiori remembered was a Geth pulse rifle. It had been just as incredible to use, with literally no recoil and firing electrostatic-sheathed plasma darts. It pierced armor and did amazing damage to both armor and flesh.

On the upside, it seemed that following the severance of ties, the Bouzac had improved the plasma management systems. That at least calmed them down somewhat.

After reading through the rest of the file, the two sisters closed it and sighed as one. “What a douche, that guy.”

Uncertainty Principle

1.10.2456 CE

Ruler sat alongside her Master’s female counterpart, the two being quite close together.

Notably, Ruler’s face was rather flushed with embarrassment as she shifted and fidgeted about, Red(F)’s hands roaming all over her. “Er…Red…why are you doing this?!”

Red(F) gave Ruler a cheeky smile as she continued groping the curvy blonde here and there. “I’m kinda curious about you, that’s all~. Plus, you’ve got such an amazing body, I can’t resist getting to know you.”

Of course, that was Red(F)’s justification for her admittedly gentle gropes and caresses. It flustered Jeanne to remember that Red(F) was, in all ways but gender and Command Seal possession, her Master. Such technicalities didn’t stop her mind from spontaneously generating similar scenarios with Red(M), causing Ruler to blush even more.

Naturally, Red(F) noticed, the admiral burying her face into Ruler’s neck. “Ah…someone’s having good thoughts about her Master, eh?”

Right then, Ruler’s face turned as red as a tomato, the saint sputtering as she felt Red(F) groping her chest. “N-nothing of the sort, Red! Your counterpart is my Master, and I d-do not think of him that way!”

Red(F) lifted her head from Ruler’s neck, looking at the Servant with amusement twinkling in her eyes. “So why that reaction, hm? Relax, Jeanne, I’m just playing around.”

Pouting, Ruler tried poking Red(F)’s eyes as she had done in life every now and then, but soon let things be.

Even so…was that reaction from Renée, or herself? Ruler shook her head, dispelling that thought. She was his Servant, and he was her Master.

Nothing more, nothing less…right?

For once, Ruler found herself unsure of her conclusion.