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Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (158/?) Revised Version 1
🕑 Added 2026-01-17 21:33:47 +0000 UTC(Author’s Note: Alright so! There’s been some MAJOR additions in this one! While the previous version felt good, I feel like it didn’t touch on the actual reasons behind the bureaucratic deadlock and issues between the LREF, IAS, and the Army. Moreover, I also feel like I didn’t properly explain the IAS’ organizational structure and the tensions brewing in there as well. So the additions here are meant to address that!
1. I wanted to establish that the LREF’s two core components are A. The Expeditionary and Response Element - ERE (the more militarized and expeditionary response aspect of the branch), and B. The Scouting and Reconnaissance Element - SRE (the more exploratory arm of the branch). The former is under a more traditional military command structure, under the Department of Defence and the Defence Secretary and thus requiring Assembly/legislative approval for the issuing of any protracted military operation. Meanwhile, the latter is the only military arm of the GUN that’s ostensibly under the Science Advisory and its various civilian agencies.
2. I wanted to establish the friction that occurs from this unique command structure. Basically, I wanted to show that because Black Lantern II needed ERE assets for its operations, it by extension needed Assembly approval for it. However, because the IAS’ various operations are still operating under Confidentiality Statutes, they can’t really go public to the Assembly just yet, thus softlocking them from going through traditional channels. As a result, they needed to subtly nudge the ERE into the operation by complicated administrative shenanigans.
3. I wanted to establish that this complicated mess of a bureaucratic nightmare could have all of this would have been avoidable if the LREF was instead chartered as the IAS’ security operations partner, as the orders would’ve been given under the Confidentiality Statutes through this partnership. This is the crux of the conflict, and why the LREF wants the Army out of the charter and themselves in it. However, since the IAS was chartered on Earth, and because the Planetary Unification Charter (PUC) expressly listed the Army as the only branch capable of operating in partnership with such agencies and institutes on Earth, the IAS was essentially forced into this awkward position from the onset due to this relatively old but fundamental founding piece of legislation.
But yeah! The additions were meant to go into all of those, as well as the occasional grammar and spelling error.
I do hope that I was able to convey that in a way that didn’t feel forced, and was delivered in a compelling enough way. I’m a huge fan of writing about organizational politics and structural worldbuilding like this, and I really wanted to show just a slice of how humanity operates in this setting. As advanced and big civilizations such as the GUN, would naturally spawn rather niche and complicated issues such as these. But I know offloading can come off as too dense or too intense or not engaging as a result of how heavy it is, so I do hope that the edits were able to convey this in a fun and engaging way! :D I also used this as an opportunity to expand the Orchid of Neptune scene some more, and I hope the interactions with Calico and his fresh bridge crew were okay as well!)
Earth - Atlantic Ocean - Special Administrative Zone under requisition by the United Nations Science Advisory - Institute of Anomalous Studies (IAS) Pilot Research Facility Codename: ATLANTIS II - R&D Wing. Local Time: 2345 Hours.
Dr. Ivo Mekis — Head of the Applied Exoreality Studies Department
Four thousand meters of water might as well have been forty thousand meters of vacuum for how isolated the depths can be.
Not since my brief stint on Titan had I observed this sort of solitude, this type of isolation, this distance between myself and the beating — at times fibrillitic — heart of civilization.
And this was just the way I preferred it.
Yet peace did not come from distance and isolation alone.
The calm of true silence only dawned after dusk had settled, especially in the midst of what would otherwise be the most active and bustling section of this facility.
Desks upon desks, interspersed between workstations and workbenches, lay dormant beneath my alcove of an office. What would have otherwise been the vibrant symphony of clacking keyboards and buzzing haptics setting the stage for the occasional clink and clank of bleeding-edge tinkering now sat uncharacteristically silent beneath perpetually twilight rays.
Indeed, the dimmed lights of this hour provided for a tasteful ambiance when set against the brightly lit depths of the ocean floor, visible not only through the occasional porthole but also through the innumerable cameras that provided a seamless transition between the opaque metal walls and the views just beyond them.
I kept this AR view open, just in case of another chance encounter — a titanic clash — between whale and squid.
These occasional sightings were what made this tenure more colorful than Titan’s or any other lifeless rock for that matter.
Because even this far down, Earth’s inexplicable gift for harboring life did not relent. If anything, it demonstrated that gift in far more extremes.
This momentary foray into reflection soon gave way into the rhythms of work, as I scanned through line after line of pertinent data that—
FWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
I swiveled my chair around, my eyes widening not out of surprise but out of a subtle satisfaction of this age-old ritual.
With a slide towards the back of my office, I reached for the screaming kettle, pouring its boiling contents into my teapot’s built-in infuser.
I savored this moment, the calm, the break from—
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
My eyes flicked up.
Charts, graphs, and all manner of visual overlays suddenly took the place of everything else on my workspace, as monitoring systems and cross-sectional subsystems peppered my field of view, displaying ambient exoreality radiation signatures.
The ECS was active.
…
But not in the way we’d ever observed.
The spike in readings was neither discrete nor transient.
If anything, it expanded exponentially, a series of diagnostic warnings conveying that the ECS was far surpassing what it was designed to—
BWWWOOOOP! BWOOOOOOPP! BWOOOOOPPPP!
“PRIORITY ALERT! UNSCHEDULED EXOREALITY ENTANGLEMENT ACTIVATION! SOURCE: ECS HOLDING CHAMBER!”
=====
Sol - Trans-Neptunian Military Exclusion Zone - LREF Ranger Station Epsilon - Ring 01 - Deck 01 - Command and Administration Center - Flag Officer’s Private Office. Local Time: 1145 Hours.
12 Hours Prior to the UEEA Incident
Captain Calico Li
Docking with the behemoth… was never once an underwhelming affair.
This effect was doubled, tripled, and perhaps even quadrupled the longer one spent away from this rotating bulwark of composalite and plasteel.
Because unlike most ‘megastructures,’ measured in double-digit kilometers but ultimately built as a ‘shell’ for what dwelled within — O’Neill cylinders, Stanford Toruses, and the like — Ranger Station Epsilon wasn’t built to house communities nor to simulate the P-MASL comforts.
It wasn’t built to look ‘inwards.’
Instead, it was built in typical true spacer fashion: to look out at the stars themselves.
What would have normally been a hollow interior pumped full of breathable gases, layered in dirt, and peppered with an ecosystem resembling a slice of pristine Earth was instead devoted to a single defined purpose — command and control.
No square meter of space was wasted, no volume was reserved for life-giving gases or aesthetic consideration. In lieu of it was an environment as hostile as the space that surrounded it, an unapologetic glut of computing that filled the stations’ confines from surface to surface, along with the infrastructure necessary to keep this beast alive.
At its heart were stellarators that pulsed with energy, each doughnut wrapped around a central axis that formed the ‘spine’ of the station.
Surrounding it and snaking into each and every nook, cranny, and crevice were the fluid coolants — impossibly long tracts of piping that permeated everything. From the reactors themselves to the kilometers' worth of computing hardware, the heat generated from their mere operation was effortlessly wicked away. Ensuring that these machines, by their own existence, didn’t melt into slag from the mere act of thinking.
This culminated in one of the most visually striking features of the station; an unexpected aesthetic expression apparent in its five-layered radiators.
Imbricated like flower petals, each layer was an engineering feat unto itself, reaching so deep into space that it dwarfed the cylinder that it was attached to. And owing to its function, eschewing any sense of stealth for sheer heat-dissipating efficiency, each ‘petal’ glowed. Creating what was in effect a radiant display of light that many likened to a glowing orchid, pulsing intermittently in between cycles of heat dissipation all along its various ‘layers,’ completing a phenomenon no engineer had ever intended, but all quietly admired; a ‘living’ spectacle born entirely of thermal necessity.
It was in essence a living, breathing titan of technology. A flower that blossomed brightly in the dark — the Orchid of Neptune.
A sight which this fresh rotation of bridge officers were not-so-subtly enamored by.
“Whoa… this was so worth it…” Helmsman Pham uttered out the moment we completed our final approach, his eyes finally taking in the sights outside the viewport without the weight of the ship resting on his shoulders. A series of beeps would bring him back down to earth, however, as he was quick to crane his head back towards me in a fit of apologetics. “Er, sorry, sir.”
“Don’t be.” I replied with a firm smile. “I’d be more offended if you kept your thoughts to yourself.” I quickly added with a reassuring chuckle. “You’ll find that things work a bit differently here than our other half over in the Expeditionary and Response Element. You answer to your fellow Scouting and Recon Element Rangers now, and by extension, Sci-Advisory’s Director-General, not the Defence-Sec. And while I still expect a certain level of discipline to be upheld, take it from me when I tell you that it’s okay to drop the occasional quip and remark. In exchange though, you’ll be rubbing shoulders with more Collegiate types than you’d believe, so prepare for the onslaught of Academo-speak.” I grinned. “So take it easy, at least while we’re in home space.”
“Yes, sir.” Pham acknowledged with a respectful dip of his head, just as the docking clamps firmly clasped the ship’s port and starboard.
“Oh, and on that note, welcome to the Cool Kids Club, ensigns.” I announced cockily. “You’re entering one of the Stellocenic Titans of Sol.”
A series of affirmative nods, excitable murmurs, and the occasional gasp of excitement echoed throughout the bridge, my eyes soon coming to settle on the docking boom that sent a gentle vibration throughout the whole ship.
The scale of the structure never truly landed for most until this final procedure was complete. As the single docking boom — the only human-scale analog present anywhere in visual range — truly reminded even the most seasoned of Rangers just how small we were to the titans of our own design.
A titan… whose true mass lay far beneath us, while its creators occupied only its skin.
…
15 Minutes Later
The Admiral’s office was one such space where that scale became easy to forget — an expansive open-plan room with more wooden slats than exposed metal walls, more plants than mandatory emergency O2 packs, and more splashes of vibrant colors, instances of boxy monitors, and paintings of rocket ‘ships’ than what most could ever imagine, all hearkening back to an aesthetic era of space exploration that never was.
It felt as if I’d just been teleported into a Venusian apartment.
Though, frankly, the Venusian ‘Jetsonian’ aesthetic was a breath of fresh air from what ‘hardcore’ spacers often touted as the height of style.
This culture of Venusian vibrancy translated all too well to its sole occupant — down to the rebreather facemask, amulets, and charms all hanging by the belt of her uniform — as the Admiral was quick to approach me the moment I entered through those unnecessarily ‘wooshing’ doors.
“Ah! Captain.” She announced chipperly, approaching me with a skip in her step, as I couldn’t help but to match that enthusiasm with a wholehearted salute of my own. “I trust you’re breathing well?”
“Admiral Shelby.” I responded warmly, remaining where I was until she reached for a reciprocal salute. “Indeed I am.”
“Good to hear!” She beamed before craning her head out to the panoramic viewscreens, zooming onto my ship with an appreciative nod. “From the abyss that is his domain to the planet that bears his name, your current commute never ceases to be as poetic as it is amusing, Captain.” Shelby spoke in earnest, gesturing for me to follow, as we both came to a stop at the very center of the room. “Though frankly, I wish the topic of our little soiree was just as forthcoming with such levity.”
There, we both intuitively reached our usual stations around the massive holoprojector — one of the few places in the room to have been spared the Admiral’s stylistic makeovers.
It was here that the ambient blue hue of the grid-like space in front of us erupted into a flurry of shapes, transposing live and past feeds alike into a three-dimensional projection of local space. Or more specifically, the immediate ‘sphere’ of control that constituted de facto GUN territory.
The lights in the room dimmed in reaction to this, giving way to what felt like a near-virtual experience that dragged both of us into a physical manifestation of humanity’s domain.
We both stood at opposite ends of this 250-light-year bubble, as star after star and sector after sector was shaded in until practically the entirety of the space had been filled with teal.
However, that was just the start of it. Because from there, a further 100-light-year sphere was drawn out. Though, as was the case with the first bubble, this too was colored in teal until no gap nor empty space was left.
This finally prompted the both of us to make eye contact, with both of our features coming to land on the same languid disappointment we always ended up wearing in every single one of these meetings.
“Operation Black Lantern II is a bust.” Shelby spoke under a tired breath, moving her hands swiftly across the projector to bring up patrol routes, expedition trails, and the veritable fleet of ships that had since become an integral part of this reality-defining mission. “Interplanetary space, and even what were supposed to be high-interest hotspots, turned up nothing. And before you ask, we’ve already done a complete sweep of interstellar space within the buffer.” She quickly highlighted the vast swaths of empty space between each star system before using her other hand to quite literally ‘grasp’ the near hundred-strong patrol group as each ship came to fit snugly atop of her open palm.
At about the same time, I began flipping through the various visualization overlays, cutting out everything on the electromagnetic spectrum until we were left with nothing but Quintessence readings set against plain astronomical features.
Not a single statistically significant spike existed, nothing beyond background noise and the ever-present hum of the cosmic background radiation, nothing… aside from a lone red spike in Sol; more specifically on Earth.
“So have your civilian counterparts cracked the code yet?” The Admiral promptly questioned as she twiddled heavy cruisers between her fingers.
“Only insofar as practical application and its anomalous properties are concerned, yes.” I answered plainly.
“So more of the same, but none of the how or the why, then?”
“Correct, Admiral.”
“Should’ve expected as much.” She sighed out in tepid disappointment. “Listen, I get that it comes with the territory of working with a sample size of one. I empathize with the scientific process. Hell, I know anyone in the LREF would. But the more space we cover, and the rarer Quintessence seems to be… the more I find myself wanting answers sooner rather than later.”
“You and I both, Admiral.”
Both our eyes now landed on Earth, the Admiral’s features soon shifting to one of indignant frustration. “I’m expanding the search radius by another 100 light-years, and I don’t intend on stopping until we’ve found another viable source. We need Atlantis II dismantled and taken off-world yesterday.”
“Dr. Weir’s ready and willing to pull the trigger on that offer the second we confirm said viable source, Admiral.” I concurred, prompting a dark huff from Shelby.
“Of course she would. It’d be an easy exit strategy for her and that shortsighted charter of hers.” The Admiral commented with just a hint of animosity, causing me to quickly search for a pressure release valve.
“There’s still some victory to be snatched from the jaws of defeat here, Admiral.” I began abruptly, slicing through the tension with the subtlety of a Jovian mega-hauler blasting into restricted space. “At least we didn’t find any Quintessence sources within the 250-proper.” I offered with a sly smile of encouragement.
The admiral, quickly catching onto the joke, acknowledged that jab with a dry chuckle of her own.
“That is a rather fortunate boon, yes.” She nodded. “With how much grief the Exo-Atmospheric Forces have caused us during the liaising of Dark Lantern, having them breathing down our necks in perpetuity would be a very hard ask. Though I can imagine it’d probably be easier than the Army.”
That comment prompted the both of us to share in a collective sigh of frustration, as we both turned back to the Quintessence-rich Earth.
“Why’d it have to be there of all places?” She continued. “Security risks aside, having the IAS chartered as an Earth-bound institute has caused headaches for all of us.” The admiral’s eyes tensed, her focus shifting from Earth to the small star-shaped blip that was GOVStation. “Both of our bosses are tearing their hair out right now. Defence-Sec Nguyen’s running laps around the conference table trying to find workarounds for the IAS’ damned charter. While Sci-Advisory Director-General Seong-min is risking her own neck by getting the Expeditionary and Response Element onboard with what is ostensibly a purely Scouting and Recon Element operation.”
“And I’m guessing the only reason why the orders for Black Lantern II weren’t relayed through SECDEF, but instead the Director-General, is because Nguyen’s constitutionally locked from giving that order due to the IAS’ Extended Confidentiality statutes.”
The Admiral acknowledged my words with a hard sigh. “Black Lantern II would’ve been impossible to accomplish within our timeframe using purely Scouting and Recon Element assets. That’s why we needed the Expeditionary and Response Element’s Long Patrols to aid in the search.” Shelby breathed in deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose in the process. “Everything was easy when it was just us — the SRE — and the Director-General. But the moment we start dishing out operations to the ERE, we start getting into pure military orders.”
“Requiring explicit approval by the Assembly before SECDEF has the authority to send it down the military chain of command.” I completed the admiral’s sentiments, sharing in her frustrations.
Shelby nodded sullenly before laying the crux of this whole mess out to bear.
“Suffice it to say, none of this would be an issue right now if we were chartered as the IAS’ partnered sec-ops.”
“To be fair on both points, Admiral, the former security issue has been addressed with enough Q-Type radiation-resistant materials that comply with existing safety limits. As for the latter, well… despite us not formally being institutionally entrenched to take on the IAS’ sec-ops, we at least still have enough legal channels of bilateral cooperation to effectively act as such. Cadet Booker’s deployment proves as much, no?”
“Cadet Booker simply proves that the bureaucrats haven’t fully succumbed to protocol complacency.” The admiral shrugged. “The fact of the matter is, the administrative effort required to maintain this whole mess of a bilateral relation isn’t sustainable. We need the Army out of the IAS charter… because the whole reason they’re even in it in the first place is absolutely inane.”
“Comes with the territory of doing anything on Earth. Holdover clauses from the Planetary Unification Charter and all that.” I shrugged.
“This could all be changed, or at least given special exemption, if the case was pushed to the Assemblies.”
“It would.” I nodded. “But the statutes of confidentiality—”
“Will expire soon. And the moment it does, and the moment this thing goes public, is the moment we can finally start getting some much-needed meaningful reforms on the charter done. Which leads me to my next point… has the cadet reported back yet?”
“Not yet.” I responded calmly. “She’s not due for about another week.”
“Then I hope for all our sakes that she touches base soon. The Army’s the third-to-last branch I’d trust with an extraction mission, especially a fully automated one.”
The latter reminder sent a chill down my spine, my left arm reaching to grip the hard metal of my right.
“I’ve seen the contingency protocol, the reports on applying experimental limiters to the bots on that extraction squad to prevent emergent intelligences from spawning during the mission. But I think I’m not alone in saying that no amount of limiters can prevent another Charon Innovations incident.” The admiral paused before moving to place both hands down on the projector controls in front of us. “My apologies for bringing up a particularly raw topic, Cal.”
“I appreciate the sentiments, Admiral.” I nodded. “But it’s a necessary point to bring up.”
“You have made your objections to this clear, right?”
“Oh, I have. But frankly — and this is a rare instance of me agreeing with the man — the General’s right. With our current stockpile… or lack thereof, we simply lack the chemical catalysts for the production of more E-ARRS armor sets. Fully Autonomous Modular Combat Platforms are the only thing we can viably send over, as a result.”
The Admiral went silent, her eyes now shifting back to the freshly designated 100-light-year bubble beyond the buffer. “Let’s just hope that the next viable source of Quintessence has a larger deposit and rate of replenishment for Q-Type catalysts, then.”
However, before the air of the room could get any more dour, I quickly dropped another, far more optimistic slant on the otherwise pressing circumstances.
“The universe never looks kind from the inside of a cockpit. It only makes sense once you’re far enough away to see the entire arc.” I began poignantly, prompting the Admiral’s brows to quirk upwards.
“Jackie Setanta.” She acknowledged before gesturing for me to continue.
“It’s in our nature to be wary, Admiral. The more unprecedented the circumstances, the worse it gets for us compared to any other branch. It’s our duty to watch the horizon, to look past the hill and over the fence for threats. But we can’t afford to ignore the whole journey either. We’re standing on a genuine paradigm shift. Yes, it'll demand a painful rethink of grand strategy and every security assumption we've ever held. But it also means that now, after countless generations of wondering, wandering, and searching for answers, we’re finally going to see the end of that question. Not just on alien life, but civilization and culture. Of minds that looked back at the universe and wondered, just like we did.”
The admiral paused. This time, however, the trajectory wasn’t towards that inevitable look of tired frustration but instead an amused sort of smile that more suited her.
“You truly are a Scouting and Recon Element poster boy, Cal.”
“You flatter me, Admiral.” I responded sheepishly. “Especially considering I haven’t even signed up for an Outbound Flight yet.”
“The spirit of an SRE officer isn’t just measured in distances traveled. It’s also in the lengths to which sacrifice for the creed is shown. Charon Innovations proved that. Don’t ever forget, Cal.”
“It’ll be difficult not to, Admiral.” I responded with another sheepish smile.
=====
Dragon’s Lair. Central Cavern ‘Foyer.’ Local Time: 2340 Hours.
Kaelthyr
Pulse.
I reached into the dark.
Pulse.
I held my neck into the void.
Pulse.
I extended my soul, my being, my senses, and myself into the depths of nothingness.
Pulse.
And I felt nothing.
…
There was no dark, only the absence of all, including light.
There was no direction, no position, nothing… save for a guiding lure.
I grabbed onto that lure, pulling, tugging, reaching and grasping desperately towards—
…
Pain.
I was shattered, shackled, siphoned, and held taut.
My existence was halved.
And I recalled exactly why this was the case.
Eschewing the discomfort, ignoring the pain, and setting aside pride and honor, I reached into this shattered crystal. And from that anchor, held taut by will and linked firmly through resolve, I called forth resonance.
A familiar voice entered the chorus of my symphony.
Broken. Shattered. Mishapen and malformed… but ultimately my own.
I embraced it, beckoning its eyes and ears.
At which point, did I finally glimpse into the interloper's world… if one could even call it as such.
I was met with a static world, a pristine world, a space far too perfect for anything living. A space defined by impeccable geometry, inlaid with glossy whites and stark chrome.
It was as pristine as it was cold, artificial, and entirely dead; devoid of the natural, the magical, or even the sensical.
Then, in a matter of seconds after my resonance, the world itself reacted.
Stark whites were replaced with flashing reds; entire walls awoke at my presence, as surfaces alive with crawling symbols spat bellowings of an unknown language all across this holding cell.
Following which, after satisfying my curiosities, I focused on increasing the definitive range of my symphony’s resonance.
It required effort and an impossible concentration.
But after a moment of reflection, I called forth that accessory sense.
…
My world shattered following that call.
What had been silent, pristine, and impossibly unassuming… was immediately contrasted by the presence of an impossible cacophony of voices. They crackled, mumbled, screamed, and sang all at once, every thread an impossible string of incoherent gibberish, all speaking without thinking, all calling out in cries that could only be described as the voices of infernium itself.
Yet in this insanity, a single cry went through from where I sat: the young matriarch’s cry.
I sat there, attempting to blot out, ignore, and shut out everything else… while allowing the matriarch a chance to commune with her fellow voidborn.
=====
Earth - Atlantic Ocean - Special Administrative Zone under requisition by the United Nations Science Advisory - Institute of Anomalous Studies (IAS) Pilot Research Facility Codename: ATLANTIS II - Administration Wing. Local Time: 2335 Hours.
5 Minutes Prior to the UEEA Incident
Dr. Laura Weir
“You aren’t nervous?” I questioned pointedly, raising a brow between two clasped hands from behind my desk.
“Not particularly, no. It’s in keeping with LREF tradition to report at the 11th hour.” The Captain responded with a sly grin. “Besides, I have faith in the Cadet. We gave her a generous time window for a reason, after all. I’m sure there’s either some technical difficulties, or just circumstances preventing her from dropping us a line just yet. Reality is rarely conducive to calculated textbook ideals after all.” Li shrugged. “If there’s anything I’m nervous about, it’s your memo.” He continued, immediately branching into the interrogatives of organizational politics. “You can’t be serious, right?”
“Oh I very much am, Captain.” I smiled back politely.
“Laura, you’re dealing with the Science Advisory here. You can’t just do an organizational rug pull. It’s one thing to amend the IAS’ charter, it’s another to just… wipe and replace it in a single pen stroke.”
“It’d solve the growing interservice friction.” I countered. “There’d be no air gap. The organization and apparatuses of the IAS, including the charter, would simply be sunset and replaced in situ.”
“The friction in question only exists because we’re on Earth.” He shot back. “Listen, I just think it’s much more realistic if you go down a more conventional route. Allow the confidentiality statutes to expire, then call for the establishment of a special assembly committee to push through an exemption clause for the LREF to replace the Army as sec-ops. It’s a simple open-and-shut case. We’re on Earth, sure, but the operational parameters are anything but. The only reason why the Army’s even entrenched in your charter is due to the PUC being so airtight about any sec-ops on Earth. The Assembly will see that, and they will allow a simple amendment.”
“You’re saying this as we’re on the eve of the General sending through fully autonomous—”
“I’m ready to file a motion against that.” The Captain concluded. “This can either be resolved martially through the Unified Central Command, civilly through SECDEF, or legislatively through the Assemblies. With the statutes still in effect, that leaves the latter off the table. So until then, I’m ready to pull the trigger on this for your sake, Laura. That’s the direction we should be headed… with all due respect, of course.”
I let out a long and tired sigh, reaching for my forehead before resting it between both my hands.
“And here I thought I wasn’t dealing with your sister.” I responded with a slight jab and a chuckle.
“You know what they say, Laura. You can take a Li out of politics, but politics never quite leaves a Li.” The Captain responded with a cocky grin before shifting towards a few more documents on the table.
“Anyways, the Admiral’s given the green light for Dark Lantern III.”
“But?” I preempted.
“You know our situation too well…” The Captain sighed. “Getting another Long Patrol involved is going to test the patience of the Expeditionary and Response Element, which means we’re going to need a green light from the Unified Central Command and SECDEF this time around, not the Science Advisory. So we’ll have to—”
BWWWOOOOP! BWOOOOOOPP! BWOOOOOPPPP!
“PRIORITY ALERT! UNSCHEDULED EXOREALITY ENTANGLEMENT ACTIVATION! SOURCE: ECS HOLDING CHAMBER!”
=====
Earth - Atlantic Ocean - Special Administrative Zone under requisition by the United Nations Science Advisory - Institute of Anomalous Studies (IAS) Pilot Research Facility Codename: ATLANTIS II - ECS Holding Facility. Local Time: 2350 Hours.
Captain Calico Li
All hands were on deck.
The small and otherwise unremarkable room that housed the controls, monitoring equipment, and sensitive overlays for the ECS was now a veritable smoshpit of scientists and engineers, all led by the Jovian science boss himself, as a flurry of virtual activity buzzed across a hundred instances of the holding facility’s intranet.
“Dr. Mekis, report.” Came Weir’s first directive, as the scientist began listing through anomaly after anomaly, until suddenly—
RING! RING! RING!
—all of our terminals began ringing.
What I saw… defied both reason and protocol, as I felt my gut twisting at the sight of the caller ID.
With a quick cock of my head to the systems administrator and a nod of Dr. Mekis’ head, I answered the call.
At which point… a familiar face in that titular helmet-cam view came to dominate all of the Command Staff’s commlines.
Nobody spoke a word.
At least, none amongst the command staff.
Instead, the flurry of activity only intensified amidst the scientists and tech specialists as they ran like headless chickens between each and every terminal present in the room.
Emma too… was speechless.
But a quick nod between the both of us jogged us back into action.
“Mission Control…” She began, her voice practically breaking. “Request authentication and IDENT challenge from LREF mission commander.”
“That shouldn’t be possible…” Murmurs erupted from the background, voices that were promptly silenced by a shush from the security personnel.
I cleared my throat, swallowing my disbelief, before continuing. “Inbound signal under Cadet Emma Booker’s credentials claims IDENT: Pilot II Actual. Initiate Unscheduled Comms IDENT Protocols.”
A pause soon fell across the entire room, as all eyes now fell on me. “Pilot II, complete phrase set: ANDROMEDA FIVE.” I breathed in, starting the set. “When the maps disagree—”
The Cadet’s eyes quivered, but she responded just as promptly. “—follow the stars.”
The silence continued as I rattled on unimpeded.
“State your last authenticated request.”
“New rotor for the training flight pack. Damage during the last training session totaled the left rotor blade.”
I didn’t nod, nor give any signs of acknowledgement, only proceeding with the verification.
“Confirm contingency fallbacks.”
This prompted the cadet’s voice to harden instantly.
“Negative. Fallbacks are off the table unless compromised. Escalate properly.”
That was it.
That was the tell.
I exhaled, letting out a sigh of relief in the process. “Pilot II Actual IDENT confirmed. It’s good to hear your voice, Cadet Booker.”
The Cadet smiled widely in response, her breaths heavy, before she just as abruptly broke out into a half-cry, half-laugh.
“Took you long enough.” I interjected teasingly, attempting to bring the cadet back to her senses as she simply nodded and took a moment to breathe.
“Captain… Director… I… this is imperative.” She began warily. “Mana radiation overpressure is going to flood the portal room on a scale far, far more intense than what you’ve ever recorded. Do not, I repeat, do not attempt to open portals any larger than what we’ve done so far. Do not open portals for transit, save for instances where the portal techs on this end are actively aiding you.”
“And precisely why—”
“Permission to upload sensor data and mission reports?” She urged, cutting Dr. Mekis off.
“Permission granted.” Weir chimed in, nodding at the various IT staff to begin offloading the glut of data about to be sent over.
“Dr. Weir?”
“Yes, Emma?”
“The polity known as the Nexus is to be considered hostile.” She urged, her eyes rife with a wariness that shot deep into my own. “I say again: the Nexus is hostile. It is an existential threat to the existence of our culture, our civilization, and our very being. Our very existence as living beings stands in defiance to their state-enforced dogma. There’s… a full report on this in the files. But I have—” She breathed in deeply before being cut off by Mekis.
“Cadet Booker.” The scientist began. “Before you continue, I need you to tell me exactly how you’re doing this. How did you trigger and sustain an active Exoreality Entanglement episode?”
The Cadet paused before opening up another camera feed, panning to her left to reveal…
“Is that a fucking dragon?!”
Comments
Gus N
Li is still on the space station. It's a long distance conference with the Atlantic where the crystal is.
Dennis Hornsby
Wait, so the alert was sent out on earth deep in the Atlantic Ocean, and calico li was on a space station near Neptune, and then somehow in 5 minutes made it to the Atlantic ocean?
Sy5t3m_Cr45h
I see that SG:Atlantis reference with Dr. Weir.
roadman1371
The Jetsonion reference is awesome. The exposition in the admiral's quarters is awesome. Heartbreaking. But awesome
Jcb112
Yup! The cylinder is filled with just the actual reactor and the computer and processing systems haha. It's a sort of intel aggregator and processing facility for the LREF's Scouting and Recon Element! :D Also thank you for the kind words! I was really worried whether the edits here would detract or add to it, I was hoping for the latter but it was a bit of a gamble on my part since I was afraid it'd feel clunky haha. Thank you! :D
Tainted_But_Thriving
“No square meter of space was wasted” okay so is it a hollow cylinder with offices and computing along the outside, ending with the orchid heat things? Or is it a filled cylinder with offices only along the exterior, and the entire interior devoted to computing? So maybe “no cubic meter” would make more sense? Edit: yeah it’s a filled cylinder that’s super clear now. I love the edits
Jcb112
Yup! That's correct! :D It comes from a holdover of early floating cities requiring its inhabitants to be constantly wary of potential breaches, or the occasional trek outside into parts of the city that are exposed to the elements. Thus, it's common to ask if a fellow inhabitant, family member, friend, parter, etc, is breathing well, in order to ensure that their mask is fitted properly during periods where a mask is required, or following an unmasking to ensure that they're not suffering from any ill effects of improper mask usage. It's now just a greeting but it's still practical in many cases! :D Thank you for noticing that, I really like to build my worlds as like a bit lived in with many cultures having their own unique aspects to them! :D
SoylentPudding
Also it just clicked that "breathing well" probably is a Venusian shibboleth? It fits with wearing the breathing mask on her belt.
