A dark room full of important people. Never a good sign. Feels weird still to be one of those important people. On my side are Alcea, Inanna and Raze. Fairy wasn’t allowed this time. I needed to bring as few people as possible. Deed and Joan were specifically requested to not be one of them. I get Joan but not having Deed for a technical problem feels weird. Across from me is Prime Minister Philot along with one of her highest ranking Phibian Admirals (evidently this guy got Inanna’s job after she left) an a Enkephalopod Scientist who I have been assured is a recognized Andamus citizen and oddly enough the Madame from the Resort. Between us on the big, metal table is something hidden beneath a thick black cloth. I assume this is why we were called away from our vacation time.

  “Gentlemen, Lady, Daughter. What I am about to show you is of the utmost confidentiality. Not a word of this can leave this room. Is that something we can all agree to?”

  We all nod our agreement as Philot continues.

  “Admiral, will you do the honor?”

  The Admiral grips one corner of the black cloth and pulls it away. Beneath is a vaguely orb shaped device that has suffered horrendous damage. Its surface is warped and partially melted. What was once wires and similar internals have scorched to the metal skeleton leaving only ashen ghosts. Whatever this once was, it is not anymore.

  “Ok, I’ll be the first. What am I looking at here?”

  The Scientist pushes forward a paper with a diagram of what this thing might have looked like undamaged.

  “Thiiis was theee power gennneraootor for the Scrrrapheeeap Drrreannndaughhht whiiich you dessstroyyyed at the Eiiight Battllle of Andaaamus. Or ratheeer what iiis leffft of it.”

  This was the power generator for that monster? It's about the size of a beach ball. Something this size using Tier 4 or even Tier 2 tech wouldn’t power a Corvette. Even by TIer 0 Standards this is tiny. The Moby’s power generator is the size of a small ship itself. Alcea seems to agree with me.

  “This can’t be all. There had to have been more.”

  “Youuu are correeect. It iiis suspeeecteeed there werrre manyyy more geneeeratooors much lllike thisss one. Nowww, only this remmmainnns.”

  Alcea walks up to the broken device and puts her hand upon it. Her hand breaks up into its individual tendrils which squirm inside the device. Examining its secrets.

  “This is a Tier 1 Generator. How could they have obtained such a powerful piece of technology?”

  Philot thumbs through the paperwork.

  “That is what I was hoping you could help us answer.”

  Raze flips through the pamphlet. Stopping when he sees something of value.

  “This is the estimated wattage, right? This wouldn’t power the whole ship but if used for a single system, say an energy weapon, this would be more than sufficient for combat. I don’t remember any weapons that powerful.”

  “Because there weren’t.” The Admiral swaps to details on the Dreadnaught. “All weapons on the vessel were standard to the Wild Sector. As were the shields, engines, sensors and other systems. It is our theory that they constructed this patchwork system to best utilize these generators. A single one of these could power a hundred Tier 4 or lower weapons. This is likely why they used hulls from lesser vessels combined together. Building a single ship would require materials and knowledge they simply don’t have. Three or four of these generators dedicated to dozens of structural shields would have been easier, if not as sturdy. Which seems to have been alleviated by even more generators dedicated to hundreds of standard shields. Only these generators were of a technological level beyond what was expected. I think you all know what that means.”

  Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of.

  “They were given these generators.”

  Philot gives a knowing nod.

  “There are few in all the galaxy who could be responsible for this. We would like to whittle the list down further.”

  Alcea, Inanna and Raze take turns looking the generator over. Trying to learn what they could. I’m not a technical expert of any kind. What I do know is people. And there is a lot here that still doesn’t make sense.

  “Forgive my ignorance, but I was told the Wild Space races hated each other. Why would they collaborate on something like this?”

  “That is a very good question.” Philot has a sly froggy grin. She’s testing me. “Given what you know, what do you think should have happened?”

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  “Well, if I belonged to a bunch of vindictive space barbarians and some dropped a piece of technology millennia ahead of anything I had, my first thought would be how to use this against my enemies. But, if they also got the same thing at the same time, that advantage is dulled. The risk of losing your one of a kind advantage becomes too great a risk and you wouldn’t want to use it offensively. And with over twenty races, sacrificing your generator for an advantage against one opponent leaves you equally vulnerable to the others. So this all loops back around to a net zero gain.”

  Philot nods and signals me to keep going.

  “If this was a one time thing, like finding a crashed cargo ship, that would be the beginning and end of it. A wunderwaffe that cannot be used. Mutually assured destruction under a different name. Unless there were more on the way. If they were told to coordinate for a huge action with the promise of more generators or other tech. Something with the potential to change their paradigm that severely would be a huge incentive to work together, if only for that one battle. And with the target being someone they all hate, namely you guy, it would be even more enticing of a deal.”

  “You are as clever as they say. We have come to much the same conclusion. It took a bit longer, however.”

  “I see. This is concerning. Still, as much faith as I have in my crew, there are far better with much more time in the Union. Why bring us in for this?”

  Philot stands up and stares off into the darkness. Deep in troubled thoughts.

  “The Union is confiscating this and everything else in relation to the Dreadnaught. We are to destroy all our files on the subject. Officially speaking nothing was left after your little Bird maneuver. Completely disintegrated.”

  “A cover up? Why?”

  “If I knew I’d likely be confiscated as well. There is no harm in speculating. So long as it stays here.”

  I don’t like this. The Union lies like any government. You’d have to be a fool to think otherwise. National secrets are important to maintain a nation. This is just such a strange thing to lie about. Unless…

  “You don’t believe it was a Greater Race that-”

  “I would never think or say something like that. Not out loud to anyone.”

  That’s a yes but be quiet about it. I don't like any of this.

  “Well since that’s not a possibility as we are sure to find evidence to the contrary we don’t need to even consider it. Alcea, found anything?”

  “No, nothing.”

  “Makes sense. It was pretty trashed.”

  “No, you don’t understand. There is nothing at all to indicate who created this. That’s even more suspicious. There is no such thing as a Universal Tier 1 technology. The Greater races of the Unions share and cooperate more than any other known group of that level yet their technology is wholly unique from each other. Even something as simple as a light source will have telltale signs of who the builder was. This has nothing. The materials, techniques, design, everything is built from the ground up to have no traceable signature. I also found several sections with intentionally built weak points. This is the only remaining generator for a reason. They were built to self-destruct to further obscure any evidence of their origin.”

  “So whoever did this went above and beyond to cover their tracks.”

  “Except…”

  “Except for what?”

  “This writing. It’s legible but I’m not familiar.”

  Inanna takes a closer look.

  “That’s an ancient Phibian dialect."

  “Can you reward it?”

  “It’s a dead language Tom. Can you read Latin or Babylonian or English?”

  “Alright, I get it. And by process of elimination I can assume that is why you are here.”

  The Madame playfully tilts your head.

  “My my, you are clever indeed. Yes, I was brought in to help read the text. It is not entirely my area of expertise. Fortunately this is a common phrase. It says “Burn down the realm of Three”. A very old war cry from the Fourth Empire conflict. An ancient campaign where several Races, the Phibians among them, attempted to overthrow the Three Empires on our own. Unfortunately it was a failure and we remained under their thrall for many decades more until the Union arrived.”

  “Are they trying to frame the Phibians?”

  “Yes, though not to the Union’s eyes. Despite the Fourth Empire’s short life, it is a popular Conspiracy theory within the Wild Sector that the Fourth Empire not only still exists but is directly responsible for every bad thing that happens.”

  Sounds familiar. There are some back home who still think that way. The Admiral gets a message on his com watch. He motions to Philot who sighs deeply.

  “I am afraid that is all the time we have left. We must turn the Generator over to the higher powers. I hope this was enlightening to you.”

  “Very. Let us know if anything else comes up.”’

  “That will not happen. The Greater Races have already informed me they plan to launch a full scale attack into the Wild Sector. All the Races will have their fleets decimated, their infrastructure crippled and their Government bodies arrested, likely to never be seen again.”

  “What? Why? After all these years why now? When is this happening?”

  “The official reason is that the threat has been raised to such a degree as to require direct action. Not necessarily wrong. The fact they will be sending a coalition of Greater Races vessels and a Tier 1 Superiority fleet against such outdated and already limping fleets makes me believe there is far more to it. Unfortunately I am in no position to ask and they have no desire to say. As to when. Eight days.”

  “And the fact I and the rest of the Moby crew are to be leaving in five is just another coincidence.”

  “Life is full of coincidences, is it not?”

  The generator is wheeled away. I, my crewmates and the Madame are led away to a civilian cargo freight. Shoved between the condiments and fresh vegetables to hide that we were ever here. Just another shipment for the Resort, nothing to see. Even for someone on my level, there are things I am not privy to know. One day, I may have to change that.