"Our engines are still extremely hot," Lia's holo said between flickers.

Since Kepler she had been struggling, not only with her holographic form but sometimes with running parts of the ship. Defeating the AI there had wiped her out and for reasons I couldn't find, and neither could she.

<<Self-diagnostic, please.>>

"I'm fine," she said aloud. Defiant.

"No, you're not. You're running on fumes. Self-diagnostic. Now."

"Self-diagnostic running." She cast me a glare. "For the 100th time."

Her attitude was also still fiery. I worried for her. I moved to where she'd been sat at tactical and pulled up our engine statistics. We were more than running hot, we'd been consistently in the red for days now and it wasn't changing.

"This has been one hell of a burn," I said. "We still have six days still till we reach the outer limits of Sigma-Seven, right?"

There was no answer from her, she was sulking. I let out a sigh and brought up the schedule. "We are on time, yes, Captain." I answered for her.

Mac sat in the command chair let out a chuckle.

I glared his way, and he laughed even more. "You're like an old married couple."

"We are not," both Lia and I said in unison. Then I couldn't help but laugh myself.

"The burn might fry our engines for good," she finally said and appeared to stand beside me.

"Anything else we can do to cool them off?" I looked up at her hopeful despite the churning in my gut.

"We've done everything humanly possible. We just have to assess any damage when we arrive."

Damage… that sounded bad, but looking at the red zones, she wasn't wrong.

Our comm system chimed with an incoming transmission. I glanced at Mac. "Coalition intelligence." He said. "On screen, please."

Lia complied with a thought, just a second ahead of my fingers. "Too slow," she said and grinned.

"Captain Tachim, Commander Taves. I'm Commander Harrison, Coalition Intelligence. I have updates for your mission."

Updates?

The man looked haggard with the kind of exhaustion that only came from being run flat out for several weeks, if not months. I knew we all felt that.

"What's the situation, Commander?" Mac asked.

"The front lines are collapsing faster than anyone wants to publicly admit. Admiral Kuba's forces have engaged the enemy military assets in seven separate encounters over the past forty-eight hours. Coalition losses are mounting exponentially."

"Define exponentially?" Mac asked.

"Eighty-three ships destroyed or disabled in the past day alone. Approximately sixty thousand Coalition personnel killed, wounded, or missing. What is more concerning is confirmed reports of their weapons deployment. Military applications of consciousness extraction technology."

Lia knelt by my chair, a hand silently shadowing over mine. "Keying in Dr. Martinez and my medical team. Can you repeat that for us."

"We have confirmed reports the enemy are using consciousness extraction technology as weapons."

Dr. Martinez's face paled. "They're using extraction as weapons?"

"Affirmative."

"Who are they?" I asked.

"Sending in packet now." His hand motioned and Lia at our weapons station nodded. "Package received."

"They can target entire ship crews simultaneously, rendering vessels combat-ineffective without destroying hull structure." Mac cursed. "They capture intact ships with trained crews essentially for their own use."

My chest tightened. "Force multiplication."

"Exactly. Every ship they capture becomes a ship they can deploy against us. It's changing the strategic balance faster than any of our models predicted." Commander Harrison paused, consulting data off-screen. "But that's not the worst news."

"There's worse news?" Mac asked.

"Production capacity and supplies. Coalition shipyards are producing approximately five hundred vessels per month across all classes, but we have enough for this month, and we're out."

The numbers appeared on screen. "You're losing ship and personnel faster than you can replace them."

"And that ratio is increasing as the enemy captures more ships. At current rates, they'll achieve numerical superiority within a month, even if we somehow manage to stop all losses immediately."

Torres studied the packet he'd sent over. "Which means your window for decisive action is closing rapidly."

"Hence the urgency of your mission," Commander Harrison continued. "Apparently the consciousness research you're carrying represents our best hope of countering these neural weapons threat. If we can protect our crews from consciousness extraction attacks..."

"We level the playing field," I finished for him.

"Potentially, yes."

"Anything we can send on to get the ball rolling with our research?" I asked Martinez.

"Yes, I'll put it together now, this would help the fleet as soon as we arrive. Get ahead of the game."

Elena looked up from her work. "How long do we have?"

"Unknown. But I'd recommend accelerating your research timeline if possible. The strategic situation may not allow for extended development periods."

"Yes, Sir."

"I'll be in touch," Commander Harrison said, and the comms ended.

There wasn't much I could do after that conversation bar make my way to our small AI lab. Lia's physical form had been absent most of the morning. This lab was where she maintained her primary processing cores.

Lia hunched over a console working on her new cores. 3D holos of data streams moved around her. The self-diagnostic I'd asked her to do. The streams were stuttering, irregular patterns, and occasionally her holographic form would phase in and out of focus next to her.

"You need to rest," I said, and stepped in beside her.

"I've told you… I don't rest. I process."

"How is it looking?"

She frowned at me. "The framework Ashley designed for me... well it is challenging to integrate."

"Challenging how?" I asked and looked to what she was attempting to do.

"Human emotions are inefficient." She admitted. "They consume my processing power without providing any clear computational benefits. It doesn't make any sense to me, at all. Love, grief, hope—they're all loops that interfere with anything logical."

"Maybe that's the point." I pulled a chair over and sat down beside her. I watched the irregular data patterns for a moment, thinking maybe I spotted something. I zoomed in, but it was nothing, just a normal set of commands. I carried on. "Maybe emotions aren't supposed to be efficient."

"See," she threw her hands up. "Why do humans rely on them so heavily?" She solidified briefly as she glared at me. She was truly frustrated.

"I'm sorry," I said and put a hand on her back. Her physical form moved to also look at me, and I felt like a deer pinned in the headlights for only a second.

"Ashley suggested that emotions provide context for decision-making. But I'm struggling to understand how subjective feelings can improve objective analysis."

Subjective feelings? She meant grief. <<You're overloading your systems,>> I said privately. <<Grief is something none of us understand."

She went back to what she was doing, but her holographic form focused on me. <<You're right. I am processing real grief for the first time. And it is... overwhelming.>>

Her response carried a vulnerability I knew all too well and I could do nothing but nod at her. "Talk to me," I prompted. "I'm here."

"Every time I think about her, I experience these loops that just go round and around. They consume increasing amounts of processing power. It's like…" she struggled. "It's like a virus, but one that serves no computational purpose."

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"Maybe grief isn't supposed to serve a computational purpose. Maybe it's just... how we remember the people we've lost."

"But it's inefficient—" she slammed her tools down, stood and moved to the other side of the room to stare at the wall.

I moved to her, watched her tremble. "I can't do this. Piotr. I just can't."

"Lia." I whispered. "Not everything has to be efficient. Some things are just... human."

She was quiet for a long moment, her projection stabilized slightly. <<The research work helps. When I'm focused on solving problems, the emotional processing runs in background threads without overwhelming my primary systems.>>

I put my hand on her back again. Felt how much she really was shaking and pulled her to me. "Then maybe that's what Ashley intended. Emotions should be background processing, not your primary focus."

"But I can't focus," her voice cracked, and she waved to her hologram. "I can't even keep myself stable."

"You are learning," I soothed. "You will get there."

"You think so?"

"Yes," I said.

"Sorrel said working with Nyx might help," she added. "Another AI perspective on integrating human concepts."

"We'll be back at Ring-14 soon," I said, though I wasn't honestly sure about that.

"They've implemented some exceptional concepts at Ring-14. I'm... curious how they're coping being around so many people. That's an emotion too, isn't it?"

Despite her struggles, I could see the progress in how she discussed things. The emotional frameworks were becoming part of her, even if the integration remained difficult. I believe in her, and I believe in Ashley's fixes.

"What do you need here?" I asked changing the subject slightly.

"Help installing them properly to my form. Instead of just hooked to the Faulkner."

"Will that help."

"I don't know," she was shaking her head, then changed her mind and nodded. "Yes, the work will help."

Three hours later, and we'd finished installing the new cores. I was lying on my bunk going over reports in my quarters, reports that never ever ended.

<<We have a problem,>> Lia interrupted me.

<<You mean one of many other problems?>>

<<There are encrypted sensors targeting our ship.>>

I flicked the reports away and sat up. <<How long have they been targeting us?>>

<<The past hour. They were very subtle at first, using quantum resonance patterns that most sensors wouldn't detect. But—"

<<With Ashley's sensor upgrades—"

"Exactly, we are now fully able to see anything around us. This has made a huge difference.>>

<<Do you have any idea who it is?>>

<<You mean other than the obvious?>>

I sighed. <<Sorry.>>

<<There's only one answer to that. The patterns match intelligence profiles for Braker long-range reconnaissance drones.>>

<<But?>>

<<Without a doubt its one Commissioner Ranger's directing them.>>

I kept my expression neutral, aware that Torres' marines were always watching and listening. <<We should inform the command crew…>>

<<No, not yet. I believe there's a leak onboard. We need to identify them first.>>

<<Someone onboard is a mole?>>

<<Mole?>>

<<A spy for Ranger,>>

<<Ahh, yes, I'm detecting anomalous power signatures from two Coalition marines assigned to critical ship systems.>>

My breath hitched. <<Anomalous how?>>

<<Their personal equipment is emitting low-level electromagnetic pulses at regular intervals. It could be normal Coalition gear, but the frequency matches surveillance transmitters and can be picked up easily by another ship. It lingers in space.>>

<<Torres' people had been aboard for weeks, with access to every system on the Faulkner.>>

<<I'm aware,>> she said.

If some of them were compromised... Fuck… <<Can you identify which marines?>>

<<Private Ryan, and Sergeant Volk. They have been assigned to critical systems—engineering, communications, and life support respectively.>>

<<Evidence of any active transmission?>>

<<Nothing definitive yet.>>

This was a hard decision to make. Confront Torres with suspicions that might be wrong—or wait and gather more evidence while her compromised personnel had access to life sustaining ship systems.

<<Keep monitoring.>> I decided. <<Don't let them know we're watching.>>

<<Understood. But Peyton—if they really are feeding information to Braker forces, our pursuers will know exactly where we are and what we've been doing.>>

<<Understood. We might need to feed them some false information.>>

<<Good plan,>> she replied. <<That I can easily do.>>

***

That evening, I found myself alone in the observation lounge. Dr. Martinez's production line on the special nanites was progressing, but even slower than she'd said. It was killing me. I wanted the ship protected. We needed to be protected better.

Lia appeared beside me. Her form more stable in the dim lighting of the lounge.

<<The tracking signals are getting stronger,>> she said quietly. <<Whoever's following us are closing the distance.>>

<<How long before they intercept?>>

<<At current rate of closure, approximately thirty-six hours. But if they have faster ships or more accurate position data...>>

<<They could catch us before we reach Sigma-Seven.>>

<<If they're tracking us through our own people,>> I said quietly, <<this is going to end badly.>>

<<I'm afraid you may be right. We may have to face whatever's coming alone, at least initially.>>

I glanced back to the marines who were following me, suddenly just not feeling safe at all. <<I need to see Torres, now.>>

<<Agreed, and we need new guards.>>

I made to move, and they did follow, I didn't expect anything else. Torres was sat eating with Thompson. There was no one else in the mess.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

I sat down and motioned for Lia. "Please, send her the evidence."

"Evidence?" Torres frowned, pushing her plate away.

I watched her eyes mist slightly, and her frown deepened. "You're 100% sure?"

"We are sure," I said.

"Ryan is in engineering. Sergeant Volk is…."

"I've alerted Lev," I said. "He's ready when you are to take them both down."

Thompson was shaking his head. "Ryan's just a kid, but Volk… I've known him several years. How have they both been compromised?"

"Could be many reasons," I said. "However, we need to get them in holding and see for ourselves."

Torres looked to the two marines who had followed me. "You're concerned for your safety."

"Anyone would be," Lia said. "I'm assigning myself to Peyton's detail, Lev and myself will not leave his side once this goes down."

"There could be others?"

"Yes," I said. "Just because we identified two doesn't mean that there aren't more who are just waiting in the wings to see how the first two go down."

"Now," Thompson said. "I will not have any moles I know about without checking their ass on the way out the nearest airlock."

I put my hands on the table and tapped for Lev. "We're moving to intercept Ryan," I said. "Keep eyes on Sergeant Volk."

"He's just training, nothing unusual. I'm at the back of the gym watching."

"Thompson," Torres said, standing. "Co-ordinate with Lev on Volk. I'll take Ryan with the Captain."

Thompson tapped the side of his head, and I moved with Torres. We made our way through the ships corridors toward engineering.

"Keep normal distance," Torres warned the marines with us, she then said internally between Lev and I. <<The last thing we need is to spook any other potential moles before we can identify them.>>

<<Engineering section?>> Torres asked. <<Status on current personnel?>>

<<They're just working on calibration,>> Lia reported her physical form joining us in the corridor. <<Nothing unusual. Private Ryan is assisting Pavel with theory on recalibration. He's trying his best to work out a way we can cool the engines.>>

<<Pavel's in there?>>

<<Ryan wouldn't hurt a kid. Would he?>> Torres asked.

We reached the engineering bay entrance. Through the observation window, I could see Pavel hunched over a diagnostic panel while Ryan worked nearby on what looked like routine maintenance.

<<Careful,>> Even through comms Torres whispered. <<We go in casual, assess the situation.>>

The doors opened—almost silently. Pavel looked up from his work with a smile. "Hey Captain, come to check on my new design or—" he frowned. "My recalibration. You don't think it will work, do you?"

I tried not to look threatening. "Something like that," I replied, but Ryan was already side glancing the both of us. "How is the calibration going want to run me through it?"

"Pretty well," Pavel said. "Private Ryan's been showing me the finer points of quantum harmonic adjustment. It's way more complex than I thought."

Something flickered in Ryan's expression. Recognition? Suspicion? His eyes moved from Torres to me, then to the entrance behind us and the other two marines.

"He's one smart kid." Ryan's voice was steady, but his body language had changed dramatically. "Taken to any other theory much faster than even I did."

<<Why would a Private know quantum harmonics?>>

<<He's no private,>> Lia said.

"Glad to hear it," Torres moved casually to position herself between Ryan and Pavel. "Mind if we take a look at what you're working on?"

Ryan's hand moved toward his sidearm.

"Pavel," I said. "Step away from the console."

The fourteen-year-old looked confused. "What's wrong?"

Ryan's weapon cleared his holster. "Nobody moves."

"Stand down, Private." Torres was just as fast, but neither of us anticipated he would actually fire. Two pops and Torres went down.

"Can't do that, Commander." Ryan then trained his weapon on me and reached the same side as Pavel. "The boy comes with me."

"Ryan, don't do this," Torres said. "You're Coalition military. We can work this out."

"Coalition?" Ryan laughed bitterly. "You mean the organization that's losing the frontlines? That's throwing away lives for nothing?"

Pavel yanked an emergency nanite pack from his pocket. He closed the gap to Torres and immediately slapped it on the gaping hole in her shoulder. His young face pale with sudden understanding. "You're one of Ranger's monsters."

"You really are a smart kid." His gun never left tracing me as I edged around the room. He didn't however shoot me, but he did grab Pavel.

"That's why Dominique Braker wants to meet him. Young minds like his are valuable."

<<Lia, can you do anything?>> I asked.

<<Working on it. Give me thirty seconds.>>

"What are you after Ryan?" I asked, trying my best to buy her that time.

"Safe passage to the shuttle bay. The boy ensures you don't do anything stupid." Ryan started backing toward the secondary exit, dragging Pavel with him. "Amazing what people will pay for good intelligence. Your entire mission timeline, crew complement, research objectives..."

"You've been feeding them information since you came aboard," Torres said.

"Every detail. Where you're going. What you're carrying. How many people you have." Ryan's smile was nothing but cold. "Commissioner Ranger knows exactly what to expect when he confronts you."

Pavel struggled against Ryan's grip. "Let me go!"

"Easy, kid. You're my insurance policy."

The lights went out.

In the darkness, I heard the sharp crack of bone. Then Pavel cried out. Emergency lighting kicked in a second later, revealing Ryan unconscious on the deck and Pavel scrambling away from him.

Lia stood over near the fallen marine. "Brute force," she said.

"You broke his arm?"

"Yes," she replied. "He'll also be unconscious for hours, Pavel hit him with—"

"My datapad," he said holding up it up. It's screen clearly shattered. "Sorry."

Torres was already clamping ma-cuffs on the prone form. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm okay." The teenager's voice shook. "He was going to take me to Brakers, because I'm smart?"

"You are smart," Lia said. "You did good staying calm."

<<Lev, status on Volk?>>

<<Down and secured. Tried to run when he saw us coming. Just checking his gear now, there was a concealed transmitter.>>

Torres activated her comm. "All security teams, conduct immediate sweep for surveillance devices. Assume we have been compromised and act accordingly."

Pavel looked at the unconscious Ryan. "Are there anymore?"

"I don't think so," I replied. <<Lia?>>

<<No one else made any moves to run,>> she said. <<Doesn't mean there aren't any.>>

And that was exactly what I was afraid to find out.

With the situation under control, I looked at my notifications and processed my full stats. It had been a while since I'd looked.

<<I have been monitoring,>> Lia added.

<<Good to know, wouldn't want something bad to happen.>>

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.