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Prax is made aware of a large Fisolite reading on a pre-FTL world that could wipe out a whole race of aliens. However, reality isn't exactly acting as it should...

I know you...
I know you...
I know you...
you know me better
than you think you do

---

The bridge was different without Bregman around, at least to Zia. His presence always seemed to her to be a constant nuisance with his jokes and interruptions. Prax didn’t seem to mind, and Zia was realizing now that she didn’t mind, either. But now that he was settling into his new assignment as sanitation crewman, he didn’t work with Zia anymore. The new pilot was still only a Petty Officer, but he was competent if a little boring, and certainly no replacement for Bregman. At first Zia couldn’t believe she missed him, but after a month she knew the feeling well.
At least they could still socialize off duty, and this was what Zia planned on doing as soon as her shift ended. She still had an hour to go and began to feel restless. This too was a distressing feeling. The last time she’d felt this way was nine years ago… and it was even for the same person. She quickly reminded herself that, with Bregman, you couldn’t get too close, or else he’d drag you down into whatever depths of depravity he happened to be dabbling in at the time. ‘Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration…’ she thought to herself.
She startled as Galya poked her face between Zia and the science console. “Hey!”
“Lieutenant! W-what can I do for you?”
“Are your ears alright?”
Zia instinctively dropped her ears against her head. “My ears? They’re fine…”
“Then why didn’t you hear me calling out to you?”
“Oh… sorry, I was thinking. What do you need?”
Galya laughed. “Oh, nothing! But you need to answer a communique. From the planet Dearna.”
“Dearna? Alright, patch it through to my station.”
Galya saluted, then dashed back to her station. She had no idea why someone on Dearna was contacting her specifically. She’d never been to the little planet, (although their current flight path took them fairly close to the system) and certainly didn’t know any of the people that lived there. The planet was a unique case. They didn’t possess FTL travel, and by technological standards the people of Dearna couldn’t produce anything more advanced than Atrieans could six hundred years ago. Despite this, the Dearnans were listed on subspace comms and received several hundred trading ships a year. Apparently, the Yerins had been responsible for accidentally exposing the Dearnans to the rest of the known Galaxy over a hundred years ago. Before a stricter policy regarding “primitive” societies was written up, the Yerins had decided to establish a permanent presence on Dearna to help them survive. The exact reason the Yerins felt so responsible for the people of Dearna was a secret, and no Dearnan was still alive from that time to tell. As far as the Atrieans were concerned, the Dearnans were party to the same trade agreement the Atrieans themselves had signed, and so trade between the two cultures was fairly common.
However, Dearnans rarely involved themselves with aliens unless they had something to give. The man who appeared looked tired, but his features were so alien to her Zia really couldn’t tell. His skin looked hard, and Zia wasn’t even sure if she could call it skin. It looked more like unevenly cooled lava, that met at certain points on his face in spirals, as though some invisible force was twisting and pulling on his face. He had no neck to speak of, but his eyes were clearly visible, black as ink. “My name is Dr’rk, speaking for the Dearnan Head of Discovery. Are you… science officer Zia?”
“Yes, this is her. What is this regarding?”
“We have… found something. It is… quite heavy. The Yerins say you have technology like it, but they cannot identify it either… can your people… come and look at it for us?”
The explanation was somewhat vague, but Zia wasn’t about to dismiss it. After all, these people didn’t know much about science… “Maybe I can. Could I speak to the Yerin who told you to contact me? I’d like to ask them a few questions.”

Suddenly, Zia wasn’t sure why she was looking into a com screen. In fact, she didn’t remember activating it. Since the screen was blank, and there didn’t seem to be a transmission coming through her console, she shut it off. “Hm…”
She stood and approached Galya. “Excuse me, Lieutenant…”
“Yes, Zia? Need me to call someone for you?”
“Er… not really. I just… did you accidentally patch a com channel through my console? The… com activated by itself, I don’t know why.”
Galya furrowed her brow and checked her screen. “Oh… I might have. I don’t see a log of it here, but…” she laughed nervously, shrugging. “Sorry, Lieutenant! I’ll try to be more careful.”
Zia couldn’t help but feel this answer was not the one she wanted, but returned to her console anyway. She couldn’t shake the nagging sensation of déjà vu as she went back to thinking about Bregman.

When his shift finally ended, Bregman dragged his cart to a closet and trudged through the halls to drown his sorrow in coffee. To his delight, he didn’t have to do so alone. Zia was waiting for him. Her tail swished across the floor as he approached, but she looked distracted. “Hey Zia. How were things up where the important people work?”
“What? O-oh, well it was boring.” she sipped her coffee as Bregman began gulping down the warm cup that Zia had left for him.
“Something on your mind?”
“Other than the fact that you’re late?”
“Ouch, okay.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. No, it’s nothing, just a… weird feeling. Something just feels wrong.”
Bregman laughed. “Yes! Something is wrong! I’m not piloting this ship!”
“Not that! Oh, never mind, it’s just my tired brain playing tricks on me.”
Bregman was about to continue complaining when the intercom silenced everyone in the room. “This is your Captain speaking! In three hours, we will be entering the Bah’vael system to investigate something on behalf of the ASD. I’d like all senior staff in my office please.”
Bregman fished a data pad from his pocket and logged in. “Another mission, eh? Have fun, Zia.”
She finished her coffee and stood to leave, then narrowed her eyes at Bregman. “What’s on that?”
Bregman looked up from what he was reading. “The details of the mission you’re going on… Prax never briefs the crew before he’s submitted the details to the computer, so I like to keep up to date…”
“Hm… that’s actually smart.”
“Hey, I have my moments!”
Zia batted him with her tail playfully as she left the room.

It was a bit of a tight fit, and there weren’t enough chairs for everyone. Prax refused to bring in more than three chairs, as any more made the place feel more cramped than it already was. Zia was the last person in, and Prax nodded to her before he began. “Good evening everyone. Tomorrow we’ll be entering orbit of Dearna to investigate some interesting energy readings a Yerin probe picked up yesterday. Fisolite readings.”
Zia’s back straightened. “Fisolite? On a habitable planet? Was there a meteor strike? Or perhaps Dearna’s moon has a Fisolite core?”
Katel shook his head. “That’s what’s strange about it. The signature is hundreds of times more powerful than anything we’ve seen, even in the core of our own moon. Here, take a look at the readings…”
He passed her a data pad, and she skimmed it as Prax continued. “How many of you are familiar with Dearna?”
The assembled crew looked to one another. They had all heard the name, but only Viks remembered. “It used to be a trading post, right? A Yerin installation. Before the war, that is.”
“Yes. Eleven years ago, a dictator rose to power and expelled all aliens from the planet, cut off all off-world communication and proceeded to massacre any remaining opposition. They’ve been silent since then, but…” Prax’s face became pained.
Zia realized why. “With Fisolite concentration this high, we could be looking at a bomb big enough the destroy the entire planet.”
“The Yerins pleaded with the ASD to investigate… apparently they feel guilty about the planet’s situation. The signature is about three kilometers north of a large city, or… where a large city used to be. I don’t think there will be danger of us being bothered much.”
Ozzy raised a paw. “W-we’re going to a planet full of people who hate aliens? Can’t the Yerins do something about it?”
Zia passed the data pad to Ozzy, but he couldn’t make out anything useful. “Take a look at that configuration, it’s like a giant Frost battery. Atrieans happen to be experts on the subject.”
“Right…”
“Ozzy, you’ll command the mission. Take Zia and anyone else you think would be useful.”
“Yes sir!”
“Dismissed!”
They all shuffled out of the office, except, as usual, Katel. “This could be dangerous.”
Prax knew this. “A hell of a lot more dangerous to whatever remains of the Dearnan civilization.”

Zia caught up to Ozzy as he headed to the elevator. They got on together. “Lieutenant! I understand this is your first command?”
Ozzy nodded, already looking overwhelmed by that fact. “Yeah… I’m not sure where to start.”
“Well, we should star by gathering a team. These readings are incredibly unique, so we’re going to need specialists. I recommend taking Dr. Vasel and some of her people.”
“Good idea.” Ozzy said as he took out a data pad and began writing down notes for himself. “I think I’ll take Walf and a security detachment, too. In case any xenophobic Dearnans find us.”
“I think Sella will be useful, too. This thing’s configuration resembles something close to weapons-grade Frost packs, and I think her expertise in that field will be invaluable.”
“Good… you talk to Anri and enlist her help; I’ll contact the others once I get a look at a topographical map of the surface.”
Zia smiled secretly at the short man, who was quickly shifting from his nervous persona to one that knew his stuff.

At that moment, Anri was already preparing for a survey of the anomalous Fisolite reading. She would have been quite excited about it, too, if it had not been for what Cutie had revealed to her moments ago. “I can’t believe you never told me!” she said as she shoved a large sensor into a wheeled case.
“I’m sorry. He wasn’t successful the first time…”
“Oh, ho, but that didn’t stop him from trying again, did it?”
“No…”
She looked away from her packing and sighed. “I’m sorry for yelling. This is serious, though! Pilot Jolan is a member of the AASA!”
“Really? I didn’t know that…”
“If he got anything from you that suggests… intelligence, he’ll bring down the whole military on us. Those people are so damn committed to their cause they’d look for intelligence in their toaster if they thought it toasted their bread funny.”
Cutie laughed at that. This was not something Anri herself had programmed her to do, it seemed to arise naturally as part of her personality. Her face quickly shifted from one of mirth to something more serious, though. “Um… I think he might have gotten something, this time. A copy of one of my subprocessors.”
Anri froze, then grabbed Cutie by the arms. “What?! Oh, no no… Quick, y-you have to show me what he copied! Come here!”
She dragged Cutie to a computer and jammed a plug into her belly. “Show me.”
Cutie generated a feed of information which Anri skimmed, as she explained. “The data was personality subroutines, the ones you installed to help me learn.”
“That’s good, it won’t look suspicious to a layman. He didn’t scrape your core, did he? Any of it?”
“No, Anri. But…”
“But?”
“It’s embarrassing…”
“Come on, Cutie! If there’s anyone in this galaxy you can trust, it’s me.”
“I put… A poem there. In the subprocessor.”
Anri suddenly broke into a smile. “A poem?! Oh, Cutie! That’s amazing! Oh, I have to read it!”
Cutie’s “face” was in full blush. “Okay. It wasn’t done, but…”
A few lines were added to the readout on the computer.

A trick turning pony turns tricks for its master.
A trick turning pony that turns tricks is not loved,
And a trick turning pony that is loved turns no tricks
A masterless trick turning pony that turns no tricks will starve
But I thrive on you.

“Oh, Cutie...”
“You don’t like it?!”
“I love it, Cutie! It’s so… beautifully you.”
“But, when I compared it to material from the internet, including poetry guides… it did not seem very good.”
“You’re new at this. Besides, poetry, to me, has always been about expressing yourself. Exposing your soul to the air through writing.”
Cutie nodded slowly. “I think I understand…”
Anri read it again, a feeling welling inside her she couldn’t quite place. “Who is this about?”
“You.”
“Oh…”
The feeling overwhelmed her, and she turned away to hide the tears that welled in her eyes. “I wish Jolan could understand you like I do, Cutie. He wouldn’t try so hard to bring you down.”
“He wants to dismantle me, doesn’t he?”
“That’s what his people do.”
She tapped at her keyboard. “I’m going to add some extra security to you, Cutie. It’ll keep him out if he tries to come back for more.”
“Thank you, Anri.”
“Dr. Vasel?”
Anri startled, almost thinking the voice would be Jolan, but it was female. She turned to see Zia approaching her. “Lieutenant! I didn’t realize we had come out of hyperspace.”
“Yes, we’ve just entered the Bah’vael system. I’m sure the ASD has briefed you on the Yerin’s request?”
“Oh, yes! In fact, I was just packing my scanning equipment.”
“Well, I think it’s best if you accompany us to the surface. I’m sure you’re aware of the social climate down there.”
Anri nodded gravely. “Yes, Amare was just telling me about it. We’ll join forces, then! …Besides, we don’t have any shuttles to take us down!”
Zia chuckled. “Alright. We’ll be arriving in five hours, so I suggest getting a little sleep before we go down. I’ll have Carril pick you up in the morning.”
“I’ll be there.”
Zia handed her a spare data pad. “The mission details. Well, I have to be getting back. Goodnight, Dr. Vasel!”
“Goodnight.”
Anri waited for Zia to leave the room before turning back to Cutie. “So, Cutie, would you like to come with me? It might be a bit dangerous, but I hear Dearna has some of the most breathtaking forests you’ve ever seen.”
“I… will Jolan be going?”
“I’m not sure, but we’ll ride on Carril’s ship so there’s no need to be scared.”
“I won’t be scared if you’re there, Anri.”
She patted the robot’s approximation of a paw. “You’ll love it. Come on, then! Let’s get you that security upgrade.”

The next morning, Zia and Ozzy were on the cockpit, huddled around Zia’s console. “It looks stable for now.” Ozzy offered.
“I don’t even know how the hell someone got such a large quantity of Fisolite, let alone keep it cool enough to be stable!”
Prax was standing above them, but neither had noticed. He startled both of them. “If that thing explodes, will we be safe?”
Zia straightened up. “No, sir. In fact, I think we should orbit Dearna’s moon, just in case.”
“Galya, signal the Amber. Pilot, take us into orbit of Dearna’s second moon.”
“Aye, sir!”
“Yes, sir!”
He turned back to the two shorter Atrieans, grinning down at them. “Well, Lieutenants?”
Ozzy threw a sharp salute. “We’ll be going now, sir!”
“Don’t worry, Captain! We’ll find out what this thing is, no problem.”
They hastened to the elevator. Once they had gone, Prax sat back in his chair, sighing as Dearna slowly spun on the viewscreen.

Carril put the fighter down slowly, making sure not to squish any of his crewmates that were already running around on the surface. Anri clutched her stomach as the final shock shook her team. “We’ve landed, folks.” Carril called back.
The doors opened and a wave of humidity hit them. Anri sneezed. “Oh, dear… this humidity is… achoo!”
Some of her staff started sneezing too, and wouldn’t leave the ship until prompted by Carril.
The landing zone was not a forest, as they had expected. There were plenty of trees around, but the more prevailing feature was the ruined collection of buildings that spread out across the countryside like scraps of tattered cloth. Anri grabbed one Dr. Amare, a Human and anthropologist. “Look! Buildings!”
“Oh… what a shame they’re all bombed out! This must have been a beautiful town square at some point.”
Carril stepped from the fighter, closing the hatch as soon as Cutie stepped off. “We didn’t detect buildings at the LZ…”
“Oh, that’s probably because of the Fisolite signature. It’s strong enough to interfere with our sensors… achoo!”
“Bless you.” Amare said.
Carril noticed Ozzy beckoning him over. “Excuse me, Doctors.”
He left the scientists to obsess over the corpses of the buildings and stood next to Walf as Ozzy gathered his thoughts. “Okay… It’s just a two kilometer walk North, but as your noses can no doubt feel, it’s pretty hot and humid here…” he fought back a sneeze. “…so be sure you have a full water bottle. Uh… Walf, how about leaving a couple men here with the Pilots? I have a feeling a few of Anri’s group is going to need watching.”
The soldiers glanced over at the scientists as they poked around the area, sneezing and chatting excitedly. Walf nodded. “Alright. Um, Felal, Marten, you two stay behind.”
The two foxes looked incredibly relieved to be chosen. Carril raised his paw. “Sir, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to join you.”
The other pilot, a Petty Officer that was filling in for Jolan that day, squinted at Carril. “You want to hike two kilometers through this… thick air?”
“Yeah. I’ve been cooped up in that ship for too long, a good hike will do me good.”
The soldiers all turned to Ozzy, expecting him to deny the request. He just shrugged. “Okay. You all know your formations… Sella, your group will take point. Carril, you can go with her.”
She nodded and led some of the soldiers off into the woods, Carril jogging after her. “Walf, you and I will escort Dr. Vasel and her team. Could you…”
Walf held up a paw. “I’ll gather them up.”
Zia joined Ozzy as Walf rounded up the specialists they’d need to study the Fisolite signature. “This place is probably the most alien planet I’ve ever been on… ugh, I can’t take this constant nose tickle!”
“You’ll get used to it… didn’t you complete your jungle training course?”
“No. I worked in weapons development.”
“Oh, yes, that’s right…”
Walf returned with about half the scientists. “The rest said they’re perfectly happy studying the ruins.”
Ozzy stood. “Alright, then. Let’s head out.”
They began the trek through the overgrown suburbs.
It was tough going at first, most of the soldiers being forced to chop their way through the undergrowth with their combat knives. Anri and Cutie trailed behind the group as they cleared a path. Anri was no stranger to long walks, it was perhaps her favorite form of exercise, one which she was unable to indulge in recently until now. She took a deep breath and sneezed again. The air wasn’t making the hike easy, however. “Anri? Are you alright?”
“Me? Oh, yes. Humid air just… achoo!” she sniffled. “…bothers us Atrieans. Atriea is very dry.”
Cutie nodded. “I understand.”
She looked around the area. It appeared they were now crossing someone’s yard. A blackened pile of wood sat off at the other side of the small field. Cutie scanned it. “This is an interesting place, Anri.”
“Isn’t it? Ruined civilizations are a bit creepy to explore, but you can still see so much of the personality of the people that lived here.”
“They… like nature, don’t they?”
“Haha! Well, it seems so. They didn’t clear out any of this undergrowth, only small spaces here and there…”
They chatted about what the people of this world might have been like if war hadn’t swept through until Zia dashed back to them. “There you are! We found a road! It goes straight north, so we should be there in no time!”
This was indeed true. In another half hour, Sella’s group had already reached the area their scanners said held the strongest Fisolite signatures. Unfortunately, there was nothing there but a massive clearing that held several large, ruined buildings and a towering, steep hill at its center. Sella dropped her pack in the grass. “At last! Ugh, Galya would have loved this.”
Carril chuckled, taking a swig of his canteen as the soldiers set their packs down for a rest. “I don’t know, it’s not so bad here. Look at all those trees!”
“There’s no bite of cold in the air! No gusts of cool wind, no delicious insects! I’d take an Atriean forest over this place any day.”
“I find the warmth pleasant.”
Sella nodded as she sat down. “Oh, I suppose. It’s also nice to get out… oh the sun feels wonderful!”
Carril had to agree. He glanced at the hill, looking it up and down. “Excuse me, Lieutenant.”
“Don’t go too far, Pilot!”
He wasn’t listening. He thought he caught sight of a flash of color on the summit of the hill. He scrambled up the grassy hump, digging his claws into the dirt as he threw clumps of it back down the hill. The top was overgrown with long grass, coming up to his armored knee pads. The view was incredible. The sun illuminated the trees with a strange shimmering effect Carril guessed had to do with how humid it was here, the sea of lights stretching out into the horizon. He thought he could just catch a glimpse of the city that sat to the south, where Dearnans apparently still lived. A sound from behind him snapped him from his view. Behind him was a house, a completely intact house. “Hello?”
There was no answer. He flipped on his universal translator and went inside.
No decorations, no drapes, not even a family portrait. The house was a picture of drabness, though its walls were painted in a sort of kaleidoscope pattern that unnerved Carril for some reason. He slowly explored the house and, suddenly, turned a corner, finding himself face to face with a Dearnan. His paw strayed to his pistol, but the squat alien held out his… mittens? “Please, sir. That is not necessary.”
Carril eyed the man. “I don’t suppose you have any strong opinions about aliens, do you?”
“No, sir! I need your help, actually. If I hurt you… well, it would not be good.”
Carril relaxed slightly. This guy was probably the last holdout, someone too stubborn to leave and lucky enough not to have been killed. “Alright. What help do you need? I can call my Lieutenant-”
“Come with me.”
The man turned and walked into another room without waiting to see if Carril would follow. He did.
The man led him to a large, humming room. Carril had no idea where it was coming from, but he could feel it through the soles of his boots. The floor was painted in interlocking circular patterns that were the same colors as the walls. “Nice room… where’s that vibrating coming from?”
“Below us. Could you please step closer?” the Dearnan beckoned to the center of the circle, where he was now standing.
Carril wasn’t sure if he could trust this man yet. He slowly walked around the room. “You haven’t told me what you need yet.”
He reached for a door, but the Dearnan shouted. “No! Do not open that door, there is a guest staying there… you mustn’t disturb him.”
“Why?”
“You will meet him eventually, there is no need to rush. Please, step forward.”
Carril glanced back at the door. He tried to turn the handle, but it was either locked… or being held closed by someone on the other side. He decided to see what the man wanted and stepped into one of the circles with him. He nodded slowly. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome… hey!”
Suddenly, the floor dropped out from under Carril, or rather, gravity did. The room slowly lit up as a blue light rose from the floor. The humming increased, and all Carril could do was flail about as he slowly rose towards the ceiling, then vanished. The house, hill and surrounding forest were then all instantly transformed.

Zia, Sella, and Ozzy stood in the bustling town square, watching the Dearnans go about their day. The citizens of this outer township, as it was called, had gotten up early for the first day of commerce for that week, ready to spend or sell. By Atriean standards, they all moved incredibly slowly, but it was obvious everyone was in a rush. Ozzy swept his scanner around the area. “Still further north. Dr’rk, what does your scanner say?”
The Dearnan scientists that had greeted them on the surface both gazed into their bulky, last generation Yerin hand scanner. “I believe you are right… to think the epicenter was here, in this township.”
The other scientist, who held the prestigious title of Head of Discovery, laughed aloud (a sound that was more like an avalanche than a laugh.) “Yes! An energy so great it could destroy our world, hidden under the very spot our world’s savior appeared!”
Zia nodded. “Oh? A local folk hero?”
“Folk hero?! Oh, ho ho! No, a revolutionary! He still lives here, in fact. Maybe he would like to meet you? After all, you look alike…”
Sella pointed. “It’s up there! On that hill!”
Ozzy nodded. “Alright, we’ll head up there. Sella, go get Anri for me.”
“Yes, sir.”
They strolled with the Dearnans slowly up a steep road that led to the top of the hill. Zia hummed. “You say your revolutionary looks like us? How so?”
Dr’rk pointed up the road. “We’re coming up on his statue. You can see for yourself!”
Zia and Ozzy nodded to themselves, not that interested in local legend. Until they were staring up at the face of Pilot Carril, set in bronze and surrounded by dozens of wreaths of blooming flowers.