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Quod Olim Erat - The Cassandrian Theory (Chapter 34)
🕑 Added 2021-10-17 03:27:04 +0000 UTCSystem XN133-H, Cassandrian Space 625.3 A.E. (Age of Exploration)
Cassandrians had a simple strategy when facing the Fleet—they would appear in force, endure our salvos until we ran out of missiles, then launch volleys of their own followed by swarms of fighters. More often than not, they would call for reinforcements, which was the reason why the Fleet resorted to sacrificial missions. The strategy core clusters soon found that the presence of a massive gathering of human ships in enemy territory was enough to trigger a response, and that was what they defaulted to.
Seeing Cassandrians fight one another was a whole different matter.
I had raised all internal firewalls, shielding myself from any potential disrupting transmissions in the system. At the same time, I had transformed a few of my onboard bots to honeypots so that any hostile transmissions could be analyzed.
It took hours for both Cassandrian fleets to form and crash into each other—like watching an explosion in slow motion. Waves poured into space from the planets, aimed at the waves that jumped in. There was no missile fire whatsoever, just clusters of ships surrounded by larger clusters of smaller vessels attacking one another.
“Breach warfare,” Sword of Blight said, visibly impressed. “So that’s how they fight when they’re alone.”
“Observation is limited, captain,” I said. “It would be better to move closer if we’re to attempt any analysis. Or at least fire more mini-sats.”
Given the distance to the nearest swarm of enemies, I could easily jump out of the system. Of course, that would mean leaving both shuttles and their teams behind. More importantly, it would mean leaving the prized prism behind as well.
“Send out the sats,” Wilco agreed. “Set them to release one-way info bursts.”
I didn’t see why laser communication couldn’t be used, but I decided not to argue. Even if he were a new captain, there was a reason the Fleet had given him command of this mission. Also, it seemed that he knew Augustus.
As I dedicated a few hundred subroutines to oversee mini sat construction, more bursts came from the shuttle teams. Sword of Spheres had picked up on what was going on and had sent as much data as the shuttle’s equipment could gather. He was significantly closer to the battle area, though, given the capabilities of the shuttle amounted to little. What was important was that his team had discovered definite proof that there had been life at some point on the planet. According to his expertise, there was a significant chance that the Cassandrians had occupied the planet at some point, then moved on, leaving a barren husk behind. Of course, several of the other Swords on his team disagreed, speculating that the planet hadn’t been exploited, but rather devastated by an external force. In their view, it was quite probable that the sub-species that currently occupied the system had taken it over from someone else.
Sphere’s report enjoyed a brief discussion between a few of the Swords on the bridge. The far more significant burst came from Sword of Fire.
The instant I deciphered the video feed, I displayed it prominently on the main bridge wall, shifting all other images and feeds. The sight was completely different from what we had seen before. No vegetation was visible anywhere, just barren soil and rock extending to the horizon.
“Most of the action’s in the sky.” Fire looked up.
Several kilometers above, millions of Cassandrian craft flew in chaotic unison, creating a defensive mesh above the planet. Analyzing the image, I was able to identify dozens of layers continuing up, and beyond them, a far more distant layer of massive whale-like battleships.
“There’s only one patch remaining.” He turned around, displaying a patch of Cassandrian buildings and vegetation similar to what had been present during their landing. “They are protecting something. Whatever it is, they have dug themselves deep. We did a remote penetration scan. I’ll send the data in the next burst, but the summary is that there’s a Cassie hive underneath. It’s deep, very deep, but that’s not the important part. Readings found several large clusters of cobalt. It’s difficult to say more with the current tech, but it’s big, almost the size of the shuttle.”
“Finally.” Wilco stood up. The manner in which he did reminded me of Augustus, when he was close to achieving something that he deemed to be of strategic importance. “Tell him to proceed.”
“That’s against mission—”
“I’m overriding all mission parameters,” he interrupted. “Priority zero.”
“Acknowledged.” From this point on, he had full operational control.
I sent the transmission to Sword of Fire. Initially, there was no response. Then there were a number of subsequent bursts providing me with the additional data he had promised to send. After that, though, a new connection was established—a permanent line with every team member on the planet.
Ten live video feeds started transmitting simultaneously. I quickly arranged them on the bridge wall. Of course, I also checked the state of the war as much as possible. The mini-sats were still too far away to provide any data I didn’t already have. Even so, I could detect that the fighting had concentrated in one spot, which in turn was slowly moving to one of the Cassandrian occupied planets. If a planet was to fall, that would be the first.
A massive wave of Cassandrian reinforcements entered the system, ranging again into the tens of thousands. It seemed that some strategies didn’t change after all.
“Describe the conditions,” Wilco said directly to Sword of Fire.
“It’s difficult to say without seeing the other planets, but odds are they’ve started the waiting game. If it’s clear that they’ll lose, the patch will ship and jump out of the system. With a species this size, I doubt they have only one system.”
“You’re assuming they aren’t already under attack elsewhere,” Wilco said.
“If they aren’t, there’ll be reinforcements coming in,” Sword of Blight said from the bridge. “It's possible that it might take a while for them to arrive here, but I think this is an extinction war. A species’ only constant is the drive for survival. I estimate that we’ll see escape ship’s launch from the planets in search of free systems to colonize. Or they’ll just sit here and be extinct. It’s never certain with the Cassies.”
“Fire?” Wilco asked.
“It’s likely. Either way, we have a few hours’ window, maybe less. If we risk it, we must risk it now.”
“Is purging an option?”
“They’re buried too deep. They’ll more likely burrow themselves deeper. The only option would be to enter and try a direct extraction. They haven’t faced us before, so there’s a good chance that they don’t have countermeasures.”
“Are you sure? They can still seal the prism out.”
“It’s our only chance, sir.”
I tried to create a simulation based on the exchange I was witnessing. The goal was clearly to obtain the third-contact artifact hidden within the Cassandrian hive. Fire wanted to attempt a direct extraction. Given everything I had witnessed at the front, the chance of success was zero. The Sword was banking on the possibility that the enemy wouldn’t know how to react, but that was the wrong approach. Against ten people, it didn’t matter how weak the Cassandrian defenses were. Our force was simply too small to pose any threat whatsoever, and also too large to enter unnoticed. If I had proper weapons, I’d offer to assist with a brief orbital bombardment, but even if I started constructing missiles now, it would be too long before they reached their target.
“Your decision. You have full operation control. Get it done.”
“Aye, sir.”
All Swords of the away team suddenly rushed in the direction of shuttle one. I could tell by their bio readings that they were pushing their organic bodies to the limit, just beneath the critical zone.
“Keep monitoring for reinforcements,” Wilco told me. “I don’t want us to end up crushed by sudden reinforcements.”
“I’m already on it, sir,” I replied with a note of annoyance, while I monitored everything else. Things were finally starting to heat up. Finally, I too felt in my element, although it still would have been nice to have some actual weapons.
“Order shuttle two to get back here,” the captain said.
“At this point, I might just as well ping the system,” I replied as I obeyed the order. “At least then we’ll have an adequate idea of the actual numbers.”
“No pings.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, sir. The technology is virtually the same. If I can maintain open comm, I can make a ping.”
“We don’t need the numbers, Elcy. There won’t be any pings or scans while we’re in this system. Is that understood?”
“Aye, captain.”
Not the order I was hoping for. Like everyone else, I focused on the feeds from the planet. It took a while for the first Swords to reach their shuttle. When they did, they unloaded a set of containers I wasn’t aware of. Several of them were identical to the containers that had come aboard along with the crew. Going through my memories, I tried to find the instance at which they were loaded on the shuttle—there wasn’t any. Apparently, there were still a few things I was thought quarantined about. The only logical assumption was that the contents of the crates were weapons. Moments later, my suspicions were confirmed.
We’re in the heart of enemy territory, and you still don’t trust me? I really didn’t like working for this captain. Just when I thought I had adjusted my estimates accordingly, he managed to stoop to a new low. Augustus—like any experienced captain—would quarantine and restrict my memories on every occasion he got, but he was both honest and unapologetic about it. Wilco was neither, giving the impression he had lifted all restrictions, only for me to find out that wasn’t the case. Worst of all, he was treating me like a logistics ship.
“All set,” a Sword said as he put on his gear.
“Set,” another added.
“I want you to carefully analyze this, Elcy,” Wilco said. Based on the lack of reaction from the Swords on the bridge, I got the distinct impression that they weren’t aware of his words. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one quarantined. “Every step they take in that mound of mold has to be accounted for. Every enemy, threat. Hell, every unknown spore is to be recorded and catalogued and stored on an external backup.”
“You are aware that their chances of breaching the external layer of protection are virtually zero?” I asked. The Swords didn’t react to that either.
“I hope you’re wrong. Either way, we’ll soon find out.”
Given the number of variables, there were trillions of potential scenarios that could occur, more considering I didn’t know the specifics of the gear the team was equipped with. However, since Wilco had so much faith in them, I made the assumption that their weapons allowed them to move through an enemy hive undetected, as well as cut through any obstacle in the way.
The insides of the hive also remained a mystery. To my knowledge, there were no complete schematics in existence, which is why I based it on Cassandrian ships I had encountered—there was some data on those, at least.
“Watch your heat,” Sword of Blight said. “Some Cassies react to sudden increases.”
In response, one of the Swords on the surface lit up a flare and threw it on a patch of Cassandrian matter. Almost immediately, a wall of fungi emerged from the ground, surrounding the flare, then engulfing it altogether.
“Guess you’re right on this one,” Fire replied. Judging by his tone, he didn’t sound too impressed.
All spacesuits adjusted their external temperature to mimic their surroundings. Hopefully, that was going to make them invisible to the Cassandrians. I had a larger concern, though. There were no ground troops so far. It was naïve to think that all of the defense force had gone up in the air. Part of it had to be in the hive.
“In position for deep scan,” one of the Swords said, placing the device on the ground.
Two more such instances followed, each placed a few kilometers from one another, forming a crude triangle. Based on the previous readings, the prism was supposed to be roughly in the center.
The three devices were activated in near unison. The readings reached me instantly, determining the exact shape and location, not only of the artefacts, but of the hive itself. What I and everyone saw was completely unexpected.
“They’ve changed the structure,” Wilco said.
The complex latticework of shafts and tunnels, typical of every Cassandrian hive, had gone, replaced by a series of hardened layers similar to a giant onion. Several tunnels turned and twisted between the layers like veins, connecting very specific sections to one another. And that was not all. The cobalt readings of before had significantly diminished. Instead, the lower quarter of the entire hive structure was filled with some sort of unidentified liquid.
“Readings suggest that they might still be there,” I preemptively answered the captain’s question. “Pinpointing the exact location is impossible.”
“Anyone seen anything like this before?” Wilco asked.
None of the Swords answered. If I had to guess, I’d suspect they were frantically reviewing their memories, analyzing any potential match. Personally, I had never seen liquid of this nature. Logic suggested that it was some sort of defense mechanism. Potentially, the goo had the ability to dissolve anything that entered it, making retrieval of the artifacts impossible.
“No one?” Wilco raised his voice slightly.
“Proceeding with mission,” Sword of Fire replied to the real question. “I’ll head first. Kid, analyze my readings. You’re our guide on this.”
The notion was reckless, but that was exactly what a ship was supposed to be.
“Yes, sir,” I replied so my captain could hear as well.
Humans liked to say that every day on the front might as well be their last. At the same time, nearly all of them believed it wouldn’t be. Ships were different—we knew that every battle could be our last. It was surviving longer than a few tours that surprised us. There was no better example of this than the Swords. After having observed my crew for so long—a crew of retired ships that had outlived all the people they were created to protect—it was clear that they believed that they had outlived their purpose. The only things of value they had left were the combat experiences locked within their crude conscience cores. Sharing that information with the younger classes must have become the only worthwhile experience they had left. It was no coincidence that all the Swords I’d known about before now were ship instructors. Sword of Fire seemed no different; by becoming a guinea pig, he was going to teach the rest how to continue with the mission and hopefully bring it to a successful conclusion. At least, these were the conclusions I had reached.
The shuttle team split into three groups. Each went to a different hive access point. It was extremely unusual watching them get there without having to face any enemies. Normally, hundreds of thousands of ground troops would be needed for a splinter group to enter a Cassandrian structure. If this were a normal hive, it would be surging with enemies at this point. Instead, Sword of Fire calmly cut through the hard material that led to inside.
“Breach complete,” he said. “Heading in.”
“Breach successful,” the second team said, seconds later. “Proceeding.”
“Having some difficulties. ETA three minutes,” the last one responded. The protective layer had increased in size, making cutting through a challenge.
One member of each team remained at the entrance. They were supposed to be in charge of maintaining the opening in order to facilitate the escape. I saw it as an exercise in futility. There were too many access points between the layers of the hive for the team to keep in check. Having someone on the surface only meant there would be fewer people at the internal access points.
“The layout’s different again,” Sword of Cups noted. “It must be reacting to the battle outcome.”
“There aren’t any significant changes so far,” I said, rechecking my data.
After the last inpour of Cassandrians, the species in the system had mounted a response that seemed to adequately counter the invasion. Based on preliminary simulations, I estimated that the invaders would be easily defeated even if it took a matter of days. Of course, that would leave a lot of the planets bare and quite vulnerable for the next sub species that arrived. Our presence most likely kept the local forces from going all out, while simultaneously encouraging the attackers to be a bit more reckless. The Fleet would have viewed such simple strategies as infantile, but apparently they worked well enough in the present circumstances.
“Unless further reinforcements arrive, the battle is to continue for several days,” I continued.
“Seems the Cassies know something you don’t,” Sword of Fire commented. “The change is happening in real time. We must pick up the pace.”
Four Swords rushed further in towards the connecting point to the next layer. Meanwhile, the third group had finally cut through, joining the rest.
Everyone watched them walk along bare corridors of hard matter, cutting through meter thick doors of similar material on the way to the artifact. There was no indication what the material could be. It seemed like rock, though it was possible it was chitin or even some calcium-like compound. If there were a research ship here, she’d probably demand to get a wide array of samples.
It took forty-seven minutes for the first team to reach the innermost area of the hive. That was twice faster than expected, mostly because the hive continued to undergo changes, shrinking the distance between layers. At this point, it was no longer certain that the Swords could leave the same way they got in.
The second team arrived one and a half minutes later, and similar to the first, stopped in order to reassess the situation.
“Whatever the liquid is, it’s filling two-thirds of the chamber,” Sword of Fire said. “That would make getting the artifact easier, assuming I reach it in one piece.”
“Analysis shows that the liquid is organic,” another Sword said, showing a device to Fire.
“I’d like those readings,” I said.
“The readings have already been sent,” Sword of Fire said without even looking up. Like me, he knew what the deal was. “I’ll head down. Record my stream for as long as you can.”
Another quarantined piece of information. After this was all over, I was going to have a talk with my captain. Just as I was composing my official complaint, a new wave of Cassandrians entered the system. This time, the force was much larger.
“A third wave has entered the system,” I announced. “Estimated fleet size ranges in the millions. Based on recalculations, the battle will end in seventeen hours or more.”
“They’ve determined we’re not a factor,” Sword of Blight said, scratching his right brow. “The first few waves were to test us as well as the locals. Now that they’ve seen we’re not a threat, they’ve come to take care of business. We’d better get ready to jump out. Once they’ve done the heavy lifting, they might decide they don’t want the likes of us around.”
“Roger that, Blight,” Sword of Fire said. “I’m heading to the prism. Everyone else prep an escape route.”
As he said that, the Sword jumped. There were no preparations or additional analysis, just one plunge into the unknown. For a single instant, he almost resembled a ship again. The moment quickly passed as bio readings streamed in. Contact with the liquid surface was painful, causing minor muscle damage, though not damaging the space suit in any way. There was a brief moment of disorientation as the Sword tried to find his bearings, after which he started swimming down.
“Visibility is low,” he said, turning on the light on his gloves and helmet. “Sixty-three centimeters. I won’t be able to see the prism until I bump into it. Suit’s handling the substance, so I should have enough time.”
“Take no chances,” Wilco said. “The artifact is the priority.”
“Sending you a direction line,” I transmitted. The virtual line appeared in green on his helmet’s visor. “I’m speculating that the artifact is in the center of the chamber, or if not, at its lowest point.”
“Unless the hive hasn’t moved it.”
“It’s the optimal starting point.”
“Kid, there’s nothing optimal when dealing with Cassies.” Still, Fire swam in the direction I had suggested. At the end of the day, one path was as good as any. “Confirm my movement numbers.”
Fire’s swimming speed was superior to any human, allowing him to reach the center of the chamber in three minutes and nineteen seconds. Unfortunately, it turned out there was nothing there. The Sword swam around a bit, just to make certain, but there was no mistake. My initial estimate was wrong.
“Nothing solid in sight,” Fire said. “Continuing straight down.”
“Careful,” Wilco said. “Don’t want to crash into something. The window is still open.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.” The Sword continued swimming at his normal pace.
Every hundred milliseconds, I ran a full analysis of the Sword’s video feed, trying to create a virtual representation of the chamber. The distance and the state of the liquid made it impossible. Each time there was a recognized pattern, I expected the artifact—or anything solid—to appear, but it didn’t.
“What’s the state of the second shuttle?” Wilco asked.
“They’re en route. ETA two hours—”
“Tell them to get as close to the planet as possible without disturbing any of the defenses,” Wilco cut me short. “Full speed. They have my authorization.”
“That will put us at risk.” I knew exactly what he was going for. “The chance of a reaction is ninety-one-point-three.”
“Either way, they’ll create a distraction.” Wilco sighed. “Standard sacrificial mission. When threatened, the Cassandrians only direct their attention at one point.”
I conveyed the order. Within moments, the shuttle went to full speed. Almost at the precise moment, outlines appeared in the murky liquid in Fire’s video feed.
“Contact,” the Sword said, followed by the words that the captain was so eager to hear. “I’ve found it. I have confirmation.”
“Swim around it.” The captain’s voice was shivering with excitement. “Elcy, give me a confirmation.”
“The object has the shape of a Cassandrian Prism,” I said. “Size is twenty-four percent larger than the ones we have. Lacking any other data, I would confirm the find. There’s no guarantee that it isn’t mimicked technology.”
“One way to find out.” Sword of Fire had drawn a combat knife and was in the process of chipping off a piece of the artifact. If he succeeded, we’d have our answer.
The blade pressed against the material. Then nothing happened. For several seconds I waited, closely observing the prism. When the knife moved away, I could tell that this was the genuine article.
“Artifact confirmed, sir. How do we proceed?”
Memory paused.
Transmission link severed.
I was back in the tunnel, once more in a human body.
