ShipCore

USD: 1 Day after Cadre-S Graduation

Location: Van Biesbroeck’s star, Meltisar, MIL-1A, Transit Hub, Restroom

Agent Fallon's datapad emitted a sharp beep, tearing his gaze from the meticulous adjustments he made to his uniform. Lines of concern etched themselves onto his face as he read Thea's message:

'Red Level tech violations found, data for priority forwarding follows. Mission still in progress; rogue NAI now secondary objective, attempting cessation/rescue of NAI hostile device.'

Though tech level violations were not uncommon, Red Level meant that they posed a significant threat to NAIs and called for extraordinary intervention and cooperation among all nations. What the violation entailed—biological, chemical, or digital—remained unclear.

Suppressing a curse, Fallon activated a comm link to their escape shuttle, which maintained a hard laser connection to the embassy on the main civilian hub designated for routing messages. Setting it to the highest priority on all outbound courier channels, he checked the departure times.

His shoulders eased when he saw that the next ship leaving was only fifteen minutes away. As long as that vessel made it out of the system, it would relay its contents forward—a trail of information that would eventually reach CSMHQ or Moneta herself through a complex web of couriers.

A direct ship to CS space would take slightly longer at an hour, but once the message was sent, it would inevitably arrive even if delayed.

In theory, Fallon should have also forwarded the data to the Imperium, Republic, and Federation so they could collaborate in addressing the Red Level threat. However, in reality, such decisions rested with Moneta herself.

Another beep from his datapad served as a reminder: It was time to commence his part of the operation. Doubts crept into Fallon's mind about proceeding—there was no guarantee Thea would be ready in time for her part—and he questioned if risking everything was wise under these circumstances.

His reflection stared back at him in the restroom mirror while adjusting his Meltisar Navy Uniform's collar. Resolved to move forward, Fallon headed towards the tram station, passing security personnel along the way, each one sending a jolt of anxiety through his nerves.

The line for the Navy Neurotrauma and Rehabilitation Center moved swiftly, and he found himself waiting only briefly. As he stared out the window, Fallon mentally reviewed every detail of his cover identity. The most effective disguises contained a hint of truth, which he had woven into his fabricated persona as much as possible.

While not extensively trained in medicine, Fallon had served as a medic in the past and kept his first-aid knowledge current. This background made him uniquely suited for this mission—no other agent present in Meltisar possessed it.

Upon reaching his destination, security hardly paid him any attention; his ID scanned normally and the detectors didn't report any banned items. That was because he carried none—getting a weapon through security would have been nightmarish.

There was no need to consult the floor map; Fallon had studied the layout for hours on end. Resident Annex A5 lay deep within the facility, awaiting his arrival for what would be his first day of duty as a floor nurse.

USD: 1 Day after Cadre-S Graduation

Location: Van Biesbroeck’s star, Meltisar, MIL-1A, Navy Neurotrauma and Rehabilitation Center, Resident Annex A5, Room F

The moon beneath Elis glowed with an orange hue, its colors amplified by the light reflecting off its parent planet. As sunrise approached, she had been eagerly waiting for it before searching for breakfast. Her memory hinted that this moon hadn't even been habitable when the Federation still existed, but doubt lingered in her mind. She made a mental note to check the System Net later for confirmation.

Weariness weighed on Elis, despite having just woken up. The simple act of getting out of bed felt like an uphill battle. With the sun finally peeking out from behind the gas giant, she couldn't help but appreciate its warm embrace. But as her stomach grumbled in protest, she conceded that perhaps it wasn't worth delaying her meal any further.

Reaching down, Elis unlocked the brake on her wheelchair and backed up before turning around to leave her room. Though her right hand functioned far better than her left, weeks of persistence allowed her to use both simultaneously—an achievement that bolstered her morale.

A motorized chair had been an option, but Dr. Pierce warned that relying on it might slow her recovery process. He'd explained the concept of neuroplasticity and how taking longer would make things more challenging in the long run. To his surprise and delight, Elis had already made significant progress in recovering from her injury. He hinted at medications that could help maintain a malleable state and even mentioned experimental nanite treatments if she ever hit a plateau.

Thoughts of her sister, Alex, clouded Elis's mind as she remembered their conversation about enlisting in Meltisar's armed forces—a decision whose reasoning still eluded her. Initially, Elis suspected Alex had traded service for medical treatment on her behalf—an idea that filled her with guilt over costing Alex freedom.

However, a visit from an officer during her recovery cleared away some misconceptions: Meltisar recognized Elis's service with the Federation, granting her veteran status as a standard procedure. This revelation eased some of the guilt that had weighed on her.

Countless questions churned in Elis's mind, all of them meant for Alex. A mix-up with the date for Alex's return had been a frustrating ordeal—a nurse had forgotten to account for the full day required to ascend the space elevator.

The cafeteria on her floor wasn't too far away, and Elis nearly slipped out of the residential annex undetected when a nurse spotted her.

"Elis! Elis, wait!"

Her hands moved quicker on her wheelchair, trying to evade the approaching nurse. But it was futile; they caught up and grabbed the handholds on her chair, acting as a brake.

"Elis, where are you going? You know you can't leave the annex," the nurse said as she stepped around to face Elis. This was a new face among the ever-changing nursing staff; their shifts rotated twice daily, resulting in an alternating cast of familiar and unfamiliar faces.

"If you're hungry, I can call room service for you."

Elis took a deep breath and attempted to speak. "I want to eat in the cafeteria." But once again, her brain betrayed her: "Je Wu Gua Et Couf." A jumble of nonsense tumbled from her lips.

The nurse offered a polite smile and shook her head—a gesture that had grown all too familiar and frustrating for Elis. Determined not to give up, she tried again. "Couf. Couftareia. Couftareia."

"If you want to eat, I can take you back to your room and call it for you," the nurse suggested gently.

Elis shook her head in refusal. "Couftaria."

"We don't have anyone who can go with you right now, and I have other patients who need my help too. Please, just come back to your room."

Although she knew she was causing trouble for the nurse—someone who was only trying to help—Elis couldn't bring herself to back down. After several more minutes of pleading, she had reached her breaking point. Silently, she maneuvered her wheelchair around the nurse and pressed on.

Elis's lips tightened as the nurse sidestepped back in her way. Despite the woman's words, Elis was determined to proceed. She pulled out her datapad and flipped to a page she had prepared days ago, activating the text-to-speech application. The robotic voice was cloned from recordings from Elis, and it almost sounded like her as it carried a hint of emotion as it read aloud.

"I understand that you are trying to keep me here for my safety, but I am a competent adult and I have the right to leave if I choose to do so. I am not a danger to myself or others, and I do not consent to being restrained. Please allow me to leave or provide a legal and ethical justification for keeping me here against my will."

Caught off guard by Elis's assertiveness, the nurse stared at her like a deer caught in headlights. Seizing her chance, Elis maneuvered around the stunned nurse and continued towards the cafeteria.

Frustration bubbled inside her as she narrowly avoided crashing into someone while entering an elevator. A garbled apology escaped her lips, but she avoided eye contact.

Upon reaching the cafeteria floor, Elis could hear and feel the bustle of people around her. As she wheeled herself inside, they gave her space to navigate through their midst. She scanned the food court for options before settling on a kebab stall.

Fetching a tray and joining the line revealed an issue—she couldn't stand up to see what was being served. However, tantalizing smells wafted from behind the counter. Resolute in her choice, Elis decided on the first thing listed on the blackboard above: meat-and-vegetable kebabs.

She pre-recorded her order on her datapad as she waited in line. "Hello," said Elis when she approached the counter with help from text-to-speech app on her datapad . "I would like the meat-and-vegetable kebab plate, thank you."

At first, the cafeteria worker looked confused but quickly adapted to the situation. He reached over the counter to take Elis's tray, arranged her order, and returned it to her. Grateful that she hadn't caused a scene or held up the line, Elis snagged a chocolate dessert from the cold bar before seeking out a table where she could finally enjoy her meal.

The payment process was a breeze as sensors scanned Elis's tray and choices, reading her ID card remotely and charging the account. Unsure when or by whom she had received the card, Elis couldn't even determine her current balance; her card simply displayed "all services covered" whenever she checked. Deciding not to dwell on it, she assumed it was either Alex's doing or part of her agreement with the military.

She spotted a corner table offering an excellent view—though she couldn't determine whether the windows were genuine crystal or just fancy displays fed by external cameras. Sliding her tray onto the table, Elis moved a chair out of the way and rolled up to the table in her wheelchair.

The small annoyances gnawed at her, but knowing Alex would return later in the day kept her spirits afloat. She couldn't imagine how she'd cope if there were another mistake regarding Alex's return date—waiting an extra day might leave her in tears.

Her mood cast a shadow over breakfast, causing Elis to eat mechanically while observing glimmers of space traffic leaving and entering the station. Her thoughts drifted back to Alex's decision to stay there and then turned to pondering the technology around them. It surpassed what she had seen in 92 Pegasi—a peculiar blend of being both less advanced and more advanced simultaneously.

Human servers and personnel carried out tasks that seemed suited for machines, while displays, medical equipment, and even details about moon habitation hinted at advancements beyond what the Federation could accomplish. This eclectic mix puzzled Elis but remained noticeable all the same.

Just as she took the last bite of her meal, her datapad beeped:

"Hey, Elis! I'm free and got my datapad back! We are halfway up the elevator now, so I'll see you in twelve hours! Hang in there!"

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