UGT: 30th Aether 280 a.G.A. / 04:43 p.m.
Location: ASF Aurora, inside the Woch-Hor'Nubis system (black hole, 49x the Sol star mass), Inner-Noran sector, Ruidan Raider Association, Milky Way
I stood at the ASF Aurora’s main viewport, arms crossed as I gazed at the station. It loomed in the distance, a massive construct of reinforced plating and industrial spires, its blinking navigation lights a stark contrast to the void beyond. From here, it looked almost peaceful. Stable. Controlled. But I knew better.
Scars from the battle still marked its surface, sections where weapons fire had carved through armor plating, exposing the superstructure beneath. A few areas remained dark, entire power relays fried beyond repair. The SHF engineers had done what they could, rerouting energy flow and sealing breaches, but this station had been built to serve the Ruidans, and in some ways, it still did. Even under SHF control, traces of the enemy remained: old security codes buried in its systems, sabotage attempts that had forced last-minute workarounds, automated defenses that had turned on their new operators without warning. It functioned, but function wasn’t stability.
[ Commander Ashcroft wants to talk to you. ]
I took a deep breath before answering, knowing full well that whatever came next wasn’t going to be easy. "Very well, go ahead and connect him."
"Captain Lunaris," Commander Ashcroft’s voice came through, cool and clipped, but not without that underlying edge. "How’s the situation on your side?"
"Everything's stable" I replied, my voice steady, though I could feel the weight of every word. "The FSF has done their part I hear. We're clear to depart as soon as you're ready."
He let out a small, almost imperceptible sound, like a chuckle that didn’t quite reach his voice. "I’m glad to hear it," he said, but there was an edge there. "I wasn’t exactly thrilled with the way you took control of my ships to hunt a few Freighters. A lot of uncertainty in the air, Captain."
I bristled at his implication but kept my voice even. We had that discussion many times over the last eight days and by now, both of use had enough of this. "The situation was volatile. We handled it," I replied sharply.
His voice turned sharper. "Handled it?" he repeated, as though testing my response. "You’ve been up there, alone, in charge and I'll never understand why Admiral Thorrison thought you the right person for that. I wouldn’t say it’s been ‘handled’ if the result is the enemy self-detonating and nearly taking my troops with them!" He paused for a moment, almost as though he was waiting for me to bite back.
"You can frame it however you want, Commander," I said, my jaw tightening. "But it was the FSF Aurora that turned the tides. Thanks to my intervention, this time the entire fleet is still standing. It was even expanded a bit. That’s more than I can say for some of the other battles you've fought without us."
He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, I could almost hear the gears in his head turning. Ashcroft wasn’t one to let things slide, especially when it came to challenging my decisions. Finally, he spoke again, and I could feel the weight of his words pressing through the comms. "Just be sure you’re not underestimating the situation, Lunaris. We're the ones supporting this mission and making sure your incredibly rediculous plany even have the slightest chance of success."
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I narrowed my eyes at the holoscreen. "Maybe try to be more in line with your Admiral than, trust i his judgement and do your job, Ashcroft. Unfortunately we both need each other. For now." The tension between us crackled through the comms, and I knew we were at an impasse. "You’re wasting time," I said, my voice steady but with an underlying edge. "I’m not interested in playing these games with you. We’ve got our orders."
I could almost hear the slow exhale on the other end as Ashcroft considered my words. There was a hint of frustration, but also an undeniable shift. "Fine." His voice was quieter now, but there was no mistaking the cold finality in it. "But I will find out what got you so up in arms about some irrelevant Freighters."
I didn’t respond immediately. I didn’t need to. Instead, I just turned my attention to the view outside the viewport, the station still looming in the distance. "Understood, Commander. You’ll have your report when we’re clear." There was no goodbye. No farewell. Just the click of the comms ending. I had other problems anyways. Ones that weighed much more on my mind than Commander Ashcroft.
Eight days. Eight days of securing the antimatter station, ensuring it wouldn’t be a smoldering wreck the moment we left. Eight days of watching the FSF sweep through its corridors, clearing out any lingering resistance, stabilizing life support, and running system checks. Eight days of salvaging what we could from the wreckage of the battle while the remaining Ruidan ships were stripped down and prepped for integration into the SHF fleet. Eight days of trying to push aside the memory of that name.
Kril Sethar. It didn’t just linger at the edges of my mind, it dug in, demanding attention, clawing at my thoughts in moments of quiet. A question I couldn’t answer. A void where certainty should be. The moment I had tried to dig deeper, the Inheritor-Protocols had crushed the trail beneath their weight. An absolute block. No loopholes, no workarounds. Not even Fen, with all his processing power, could pry anything from the system’s grip. That should have been impossible.
I had spent hours combing through every possible scrap of data in Fen’s archives, running scans, cross-checking anything remotely related. We had searched the entire system, communications, wreckage, even personal logs from captured Ruidans. Nothing. My fingers curled into my palm, nails pressing against my skin. I focused on the sting, grounding myself. It wasn’t enough. I had no leads, no answers. I was alone in this. Because of the Inheritor-Protocols, not even Fen was capable of truly helping me. My reflection in the viewport stared back at me, blue eyes sharp, jaw tight. I looked composed. In control. Another illusion.
The worst thing was, this had been a warning. A warning not to seek further information. But how was I supposed to not look for answers in something so connected to myself? Obiously, I had ignored the warning but had nothing to show for it anyways.
[ May, are you alright. Your heart rate is spiking? ]
"I’m fine," I replied, the words sounding forced and hollow even to me.
[ That is a lie. ]
A humorless breath left me. "Obviously. But not one you can do anything about." Fen didn’t argue. Beyond the viewport, the station’s docking arms retracted from the last FSF freighter. A quick scan of the fleet showed every ship accounted for, engines primed for the jump.It was time. "Send a last message to Commander Ashcroft. Standard protocol. We leave the system. I have no interest in talking to him again."
[ Acknowledged. Sending now. ]
The ship hummed beneath my feet, power cycling as the final pre-jump sequences engaged. The SHF fleet moved into formation, the remnants of the battle now nothing more than debris scattered across the void. Another system taken. Another step forward. And yet, why did it feel like I had taken mutiple steps back?