“Lieutenant,” Calliope called out as soon as Era found herself aboard her ship.

  “Not now! Jackson! How much longer?” she snapped, angrily sitting down as she stared at her station.

  “Almost ready, ma’am!” Warrant Officer Pierce replied, flicking a few switches as he performed the preflight check. He soon turned on a COM line. “Prometheus, this is Eclipse Runner. We are prepped and ready for unch. Over.”

  “What’s the point? You want me to arrest her to heal your bruised ego? That a human outsmarted you? What’s so important about that damn drive anyway?” Kane wondered, feeling the sting of repeated denials for something that seemed increasingly futile.

  “All sensitive file directories were repced with database links. Meaning, unless the drive is physically connected to a high-security server, there would be no leak. But Memento Mori is not ‘just’ a database,” Calliope responded.

  There was no response. Jackson frowned and began fiddling with the COMs to check if they were in working order. Finding no issue, he tried again. “Prometheus, this is the ONI Prowler, Eclipse Runner. Please respond. Over.”

  “Uhm.. ah… yeah! Eclipse Runner. State your intentions.”

  Pierce found the response very unprofessional, even by his standards, but he didn’t call it out. “Requesting clear skies, Prometheus. We are ready for dust off. Over.”

  “One moment, Eclipse. We have Pelicans inbound.”

  “Lieutenant Kane, please understand. It's everything. And when I say everything, I mean ‘everything’.” The hologram leaned forward, emphasizing the word. “It started as a digital archive of historical artifacts, copies of every book published, every song pyed, every recorded facet of humanity uploaded to the internet.”

  “ONI soon realized it could hold much more. Medical records, banking details, home addresses, confidential communications, even entire research and development directories for private companies, blueprints for technologies that the UNSC hasn’t even begun to explore yet—and that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

  Era pondered, already imagining the implications of such a dangerous file in the wrong hands. Even without the top-secret military and government information, there were far too many cssified records on that drive. After a moment of contemption, she asked, “Is my clearance level high enough for this?”

  Calliope shook her head. “Not even the Captain's. Memento Mori is meant to be humanity’s proof of existence. ONI, however, didn’t expect someone to actually steal the damn thing while we are still ‘alive’.”

  “Miss Kane. Are we gonna get this show on the road or not?” Tristan's voice spoke out of nowhere, taking the Lieutenant by surprise.

  Era quickly turned to find the Colonel at the doorway to the bridge. “I’ll check with the pilot, Sir.” She called out to the Warrant Officer, “Pierce! Status!”

  “Just waiting for confirmation now, Lieutenant!” Jackson shouted back.

  The COMs soon crackled to life with the awaited response. “Airspace is all yours, Eclipse. Farewell and good hunting.”

  Jackson turned off the radio and continued his duties, priming the nacelles and causing the vessel to spool up as their engines roared over the tarmac.

  “You got this, right?” said the ODST as he transferred the civilians and prisoners to the Corpsman. A marine detachment was posted around the recently constructed hospital, but it seemed more beds and facilities would be needed in the future.

  “Hey, hey! Wait! Hang on a minute! What the hell happened to that one?” From what they had gathered so far, the civilians were used for forced bor, while the rest were the ones who guarded them. The tribesmen had wounds and scars indicating abuse, while the guards had combat wounds from when the ODSTs took them down. However, one of them was clearly worse for wear.

  “Oh… he... fell off a Warthog?” The Helljumper lied. The mercenary, who had introduced himself as Fredrick Burnham, was bound in rope with his mouth shut with duct tape. Bruises covered his body, and bandages were haphazardly wrapped around him to keep him stable.

  “Did he fall off, or did you run him over with one?”

  “Which lie do you think would get me in less trouble?” the ODST smirked.

  The corpsman exhaled loudly, annoyed, but soon began checking the man's vitals and injuries before figuring out how to untie him.

  “I would advise you not to do that, Doc. Don’t remove the tape, or at least sedate him first. This guy nearly rolled back all the anti-discrimination ws we have back to square one whenever he opens his mouth.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Just try not to bring more mangled corpses to me next time. You guys are giving me more work,” he said, scratching his head, hoping this patient didn’t have broken bones or internal bleeding.

  Even the enemy was getting aid. Chief Nyembo watched quietly from his bed. He didn’t understand it. Though it was common to treat the enemy and ter assimite them to strengthen the tribe, svers typically did not get such luxury due to the brutality his people had received from the foreigners. Yet their saviors healed them all the same.

  Either their generosity knew no bounds, or they were ignorant of the ways of this nd, he thought to himself. On their way here, though terrified, he watched the vast African pins and forests blur beneath him as flying machines crossed great distances with ease. He needed to make note of where they were taking them, but apart from that, he needed to see their camp, learn more about them, and find things they cked that he could use to trade, barter, and finally get them to their side.

  “Sick Bay to Bridge.” No response. Dr. Bennett frowned, fairly certain she had typed in the right code. She was about to retry when a response came in.

  “This is Irons. Laura, make it brief; we are in the middle of something here.”

  “Captain, the locals brought in are reacting erratically. We need more personnel here!” Usually, it would be easy to just sedate the patients and either let the medics or Auto-Doc beds do the rest. But for some reason, it seems these patients haven’t seen an anesthetic before. After watching several of them fall unconscious, the rest began to panic, and the Marines had to contain the situation. Pcing three or more people just to handle a single patient quickly ate up their manpower.

  Samuel was sure he had sent men to help, but then again, the good doctor would probably not lie about asking for further assistance. “I’ll have someone routed there, Doctor. Is there anything else?”

  “A number of them have suffered hand amputations, Captain. They say they were punished. Cybernetics could give them back the use of their hands, but I don't know how to proceed, Sir.” Given their reaction to anesthesia, it might be safe to assume they wouldn’t understand what has to be done next.

  A long pause followed as Irons tried to come up with a response. Finally, he replied, “Do what you have to do, Doctor.”

  “But Sir, I don’t think they can consent or even comprehend the consequences of the procedure!” To restore the limb to working order, a mechanical device would be fitted onto the damaged limb, mimicking the lost appendage and eventually being sleeved with synthetic skin. Such procedures are common, widespread even among the countless soldiers injured in combat.

  However, to properly use such a device, a neural interface is required—a device impnted at the base of one’s skull, allowing them to manipute electronic devices through thoughts alone. Like most technologies, it has some drawbacks. To properly install the impnt, chemicals need to be injected into the patient to have their nerves properly interact with the device. The increased brain activity caused by such medication can potentially alter one’s personality or even cause death in rare cases.

  “Doctor Bennett, you know what’s best for your patients, yet you did not have the courage to shoulder the responsibility. That’s why you called me. The fact that you told me the route you would take meant you wanted me to enforce it upon you, saving you from guilt. So I suggest you do it before I change my mind.” Irons quickly cut off the line, rubbing his temple.

  The bridge was eerily quiet after the conversation. Nathan and Ethan exchanged gnces, both having opinions on what had just transpired but knowing it wasn’t the appropriate time to voice them.

  Finally, Samuel spoke. “Apollo.” The AI’s projection bleeped into existence on a nearby podium. “I want you to create a log of all the crimes and atrocities I will commit from now on. Keep a complete record of everything. We are in extraordinary circumstances, and as Captain of this vessel, I will likely be forced to make decisions that some would deem reprehensible. The moment we find ourselves back in UNSC-controlled space, forward this evidence against me.”

  “Yes, Captain,” the AI solemnly replied.

  “Sir.” The XO stepped forward. “It might have been better if you had conscripted them first, Captain. At the very least, you could enforce military ws on them after that.”

  “If I did that, Laura would not have understood.” Irons sighed and closed his eyes for a second. Sitting upright, he then turned his attention to the ODST on his bridge. “Major Rodriguez.” He had been standing on the side since he arrived.

  “Sir! Reporting as ordered!” the Helljumper said, crisply saluting. Samuel reciprocated.

  “Surely you must understand the kind of mess you have brought here. This is not an EVAC point, nor can we take responsibility for this many people on such short notice.” Of course, what’s done is done. He had ordered him to assist civilians but hadn’t expected the volume he’d bring back. Picking up the data pad before him, he continued, “There are even several instances of violence against your prisoners. Major, you do realize I can have your men arrested and court-martialed?”

  “Yes, Sir, I am aware.”

  Irons groaned and flipped through the pages; so far, there were no casualties. “Your CO, Colonel Stone, is currently off-world, so I cannot remove you from your post just yet. As punishment, those civilians will be your responsibility. Anything and everything they need, the ODSTs will procure and provide. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir!”

  “Dismissed.” Victor saluted one st time before turning around and exiting the bridge.

  Once the door closed behind him, Nathan turned to Irons. “Sir, isn’t that punishment a bit light?”

  “Bill likes everything to be exactly as he needs it; asking him for more supplies will be punishment enough. Also, the things we take for granted aren't even invented yet in this era. I simply don’t want to hear about people worshiping the water cooler.”

  When mankind first ventured into space, it usually took six months or more just to reach the Red Pnet. Nowadays, however, even a Pelican has enough engine power to exit Earth’s orbit with ease. The Eclipse Runner quickly dropped off the satellites before taking detailed scans of Lua, and as they feared, nothing was there.

  Despite the likelihood of it being a waste of time, the prowler soon headed towards Mars. With powerful sublight engines, it would take them a couple of hours to get there. Not exactly what Tristan had expected. It took several centuries for humanity to properly terraform Mars, but if Apollo’s theories were correct, the atmosphere there wouldn’t even be breathable. So much for ‘stretching his legs.’

  Calliope quietly watched the ship’s sensors, as there wasn’t much to do anyway, when she noticed something odd. A glitch? She frowned and sent a ping to a sector of space as they continued towards their destination. “Corporal Valen, I have sent a ping towards Sector 31. Can you confirm?”

  “Yes. Though I am receiving two bounces.” Maya pulled out an astrogation map to check that sector. Even though Calliope had adjusted the map with their best estimations, it should still be retively helpful, even if it wasn't fully accurate.

  “You see that too, huh?” So maybe it wasn’t an error? An asteroid should be there—433 Eros. However, it was slightly out of orbit. The ping they received meant Eros was not in its intended location. Not only that, but there were two of them. “Warrant Officer Pierce, we might need a course correction.” She pced an indicator within the nav computer for the pilot to follow.

  “I would advise turning on the cloak as we make our approach, Sergeant Brooks.” AI doesn’t exactly have ‘ranks,’ and therefore Calliope could only make suggestions. Though it would be far easier for her to just override everything and do all the work, it wouldn’t be that difficult. But understanding how the human psyche works, building rapport amongst the crew is still better in the long run.

  “Miss Crke, we are almost in range of the anomaly. Our sensors and cameras should be able to see it at maximum magnification.” Calliope tried her best to analyze what they had so far. It was a massive, half-moon-shaped object floating next to Eros, causing it and the asteroid to orbit one another. After a few minutes, Lieutenant Kane returned to the bridge.

  “Ma’am, there is an object coming into view now,” called out Jackson as Zoe sent what data she had so far of the object to Era’s console.

  “Calliope, what exactly am I looking at?”

  “Unknown. It does not match any human or Covenant object on file.”

  “Well, ain’t that something.” Colonel Stone, standing by the doorway of the bridge, watched as the object got rger and rger as they came closer. It was a vessel, comparable in size to the Prometheus, floating in space with no indication of life or power.

  “Maya, get me Captain Irons on the line.”