“Primal Heart”

Book 02, Chapter 15

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It was mostly green. This world that opened into the Cardboard Box’s monitors was a verdant vista. It was a world like many others. It had many different biomes from tundras to rainforests. Oceans didn’t exist here, instead large lakes and meandering rivers were the accents of blue. High mountain ranges crisscrossed the land, nearly gating the land into plots, like fences around gardens.

Ahead, a colossal lake came into view. It was the biggest on the entire planet, stretching for thousands of kilometers in either direction. Its position at the lowest altitude and high salt content could conceivably define it as an ocean, though it was still landlocked.

At many points along its shore were the biggest of the few cities on this world. They were modest in size, rarely past the population of thousands each. Further from the lake were the countless villages that most of the world’s population called home. One of these villages, not any of the large cities, was the destination of this ship. It might seem like an unremarkable place, but it was closest of the villages to a large excavation site.

A large circular ruin was beginning to poke up out of the ground. Massive caravans funneled in from the nearest city and all the villages in a 200 kilometer radius. There was such a wide and dense congregation of people, materials, and equipment at this site, that landing there would only get in the way. Instead the ship drifted to the opposite side of the nearest village.

There were no spaceports to land at, nor even large paved patches. While these people were aware of spaceflight and of their cosmic neighbors, they saw no reason to construct places to park. They didn’t journey to space, so visitors would have to make do.

Several kilometers from the village was a rocky bluff. There were plenty of places closer to land or they could even hover over the town and drop down. But that can give a subtle impression of invasion, so it was best to park further away from a populace. Upon landing there, a detachment of Scholars descended towards the township in a ground transport.

It glided along the ground with its antigravity technology, with no grass bent beneath it. It coasted through a path in the forest, and down the border of a humble farm. Working the fields were a handful of this world’s sentient natives, the Eyaklofkin. None bothered to look up from their work, though why wasn’t clear. Maybe it was disinterest, not hearing the visitors, or diligence.

Passing the farm house, Suge saw several more Eyaklofkin working on the structure. But upon looking closer, Suge saw that they were actually disassembling the stone walls and foundations of all their buildings. His fleeting view vanished as the walls of crops panned into his sight. He turned to the others, but none were looking where he had been.

Suge decided to think nothing of it, and sat back against his seat.

The wall of crops of this farm ended, and not long after, a new wall of crops from a different farm filled the windows’ view. Again Suge’s eyes drifted to the endless fields. Something about it seemed so nostalgic to him. Like it was home. But his childhood wasn’t at a farm, so it was an odd feeling. It was just something about farms.

A part in the wall of green again revealed an assembly of farming buildings. Suge leaned forward slowly. All of these farmers and workers were also disassembling their farm house, barns, and worker lodges. Nearby carts, trailers and trucks were being loaded with the rock and stone used for these buildings. Suge focused his eyes at any of the Eyaklofkin hoping to somehow will one to look up.

One Eyaklofk placed a large slab of stone on a trailer, and looked up at the passing vehicle. His face was as stoney as the trailer’s new content. His face didn’t budge at all. More so, it looked like he wasn’t even looking at the Scholar’s vehicle, but instead just into nothing. He then turned, without even the slightest change in expression, back towards the farm buildings.

As suddenly as the crops had parted, it had returned, blocking the view. Suge lied back against his seat, occasionally glancing back to see if he could see past the green curtains along the road.

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Slowing to a stop, the Scholars’ vehicle had arrived, but it was an arrival hardly recognized. Of the dozens of Eyaklofkin on the main lane, maybe only two or three turned to see who had rolled into town. Animal driven buggies circled around them without a word as the Scholars pulled into a space on the side of the road.

“This is the place!” Mahie confidently beamed, holding an almost incomprehensible map in her hands.

Both Mahie and Ayabegei stepped out of the vehicle and up to the building, but stopped when she noticed Suge hadn’t followed them. He was still at the parking spot, looking down the street.

“Is everything alright?” Ayabegei called to him.

Suge turned to her and nodded.

“I’ll wait out here.”

Ayabegei’s first thought was to inquire further, but Suge always had his reasons for things. If they were important, he wouldn’t keep them to himself.

When they stepped inside, Suge turned back to the sight at the end of the street. On one of the tenement buildings far down the road, several Eyaklofkin were nailing boards across windows.

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Half of a face poked out from the shadows, only to be quickly recoiled into the safety of obscurity.

“More of them? More off-lander? Their fate will be the same. They will surely die. The darkness and its fangs will soon come.”

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“Excuse me,” Suge called out as he stopped an Eyaklofk walking past.

“Sorry, did you need something Off-Lander?” the Eyaklofkin replied. “I’m rather in a hurry.”

“What are they doing?” Suge pointed to the ones boarding up the windows on the far building.

“I don’t know,” it answered after a pause.

Suge’s quills jostled.

“You don’t know?” he pressed. “You don’t know why they’re sealing the windows? Or why they’re barricading the doors?”

“No, I don’t know,” it reiterated.

Suge’s quills twitched, trying to detect anything in this one’s speech or behavior that gave something away. It was short for an Eyaklofk, but still stood two heads taller than Suge. It looked down, unflinching with its dark eyes right into Suge’s own.

“Why are you holding boards and nails?” Suge questioned, pointing to the items in the hands of the Eyaklofk. “Why are you holding a hammer?”

It looked at the contents of its own hands.

“I really couldn’t tell you why,” it dismissed. “Is that everything? I’ve things to do.”

“What things do you have to do?”

“I don’t know. Just things. Are we done? Sorry I can’t tell you what you want to know. Maybe someone else can help you.”

It was the strangest thing, Suge thought. The Eyaklofk was demonstrating no indication of untruthfulness. Suge was watching any nonverbal cues and saw none. Its eyes didn’t look away. It didn’t scratch itself. It didn’t start perspiring. The ears didn’t move, nor the vestigial flaps above them. The language translation implants Suge used didn’t pick up any changes of tone or inflection to signify distancing. In fact, the only physical reaction was when its leather snout started to crumple, and that was more likely an indicator of frustration.

This Eyaklofk honestly didn’t know?

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Scents accosted the senses like a cheerful surprise. It hit Mahie and Ayabegei broadside with a mix of earthy tones and stinging spice. Likewise the sense of hearing was so greeted with regional pop music, singing in the language of the Eyaklofkin.

Ayabegei loudly cleared her throat. And no response. Mahie shed the subtlety and shouted hello.

“I heard you! I heard you!” came a yell in the back of the cottage. “Come on back! My hands are a little full right now.”

The two Scholars made their way carefully through the small abode. It was cramped, but perhaps over furnished. Does one really need so many couches in the living room? Entering the kitchen, the intensity of the smells grew. Both Mahie and Ayabegei were solicited by their stomachs, inquiring if perhaps the delicious food might be available.

Sitting at the table was an older Anlov man. He was dressed in an old sweater and comfortable pants. He was watching a video screen, laughing at whatever hilarity was present. Behind him on the stove were several pots and pans, bubbling and cooking.

“Come in! Have a seat!” the old man called over, hardly looking up from his screen.

Ayabegei raised an eyebrow. Hands full indeed. She and Mahie sat at the table. The man paused his show and turned to them.

“Good evening! How are we doing today?” he finally greeted. He was much older. His hair had nearly completed its departure. His skin was creased with age. But he had a pleasant demeanor. You never felt a sense of unease.

“We are well,” Ayabegei answered. “And you are Mr. Verazlium, I presume?”

“Oh no, that makes me sound so old,” the man replied. “Call me Kaytle. Mister? Misters are old. And I have a geezer name already.”

“Kaytle then,” Ayabegei corrected herself. “I am Lieutenant Mazoy and this is Specialist Denayer of the Autonomous Special Investigation Detachment.”

“Hello Mr. Kaytle,” Mahie announced.

“Oh, a Gyedth,” Kaytle acknowledged, before pausing. “Wait, that’s not right. My friend said you were called something like Treasures Aside Inside Program or something? It was silly sounding like that.”

“We had a recent change in designation title,” Ayabegei explained. “The original was deemed too artistic. Though the ship has retained its odd title.”

“For the better I see!” Kaytle cheered.

“I liked the name,” Mahie pouted. “It was cute.”

“Sadly, official documentation and records seldom feature cute things,” Kaytle admitted. “But at least you kept your ship name.”

“Ah” he shouted, turning around. “How rude of me! Grab a plate; I made plenty. But not enough for your crew. So eat and wait until the smell falls off your breath.”

Mahie needn’t be asked twice as she bounded up and heaped food onto a plate. Ayabegei was initially reluctant, always the professional that she is. But even she couldn’t decline the offer.

Kaytle let them get a few bites in, letting their eyes widen before he spoke up.

“That seasoning right there is why I chose here,” he smiled. “The barrow-root stayed with me throughout all my travels, and I always found myself coming back for it. I worked my whole life in the transportation industry. Cargo hauling, surveying, personnel transport, you name it. Been across many universes. But this place always felt like home away from home.”

His gaze drifted off, recalling his time amongst the stars. Mahie paused eating, wondering if that would be her future too. Would she go back home to her family, or would she make her home elsewhere. Her mind drifted to her sister, wondering if she found her home too, or if she was still searching.

“But, why you’re here,” Kaytle sighed, returning to the present. “The Eyaklofkin are a beautiful people. They have welcomed me over time, and nearly anyone else. But they have been acting so oddly lately. Have you noticed?”

Ayabegei’s brow lowered. Is that what Suge was noticing?

“It started with them excavating this archaeological site, some…. 70 kilometers northeast,” Kaytle explained, turning his body towards his stated direction. “Since then, all of the Eyaklofkin in this closest city have started boarding up their homes and businesses. Sealing things up. And they themselves don’t answer why. Very odd.”

“My buddy was coming through recently and noted a very weak electrical signal from the bigger moon as he was arriving” Kaytle recalled while sliding over a print out.

Ayabegei examined the reading and saw that such a signal was so small that one would have to be within double digit meters of the moon to detect it.

“This system was surveyed long ago. Over a hundred fifty years ago,” Kaytle explained. “It’s classified as fully surveyed, so most don’t even bother when they come through. But clearly something was missed.”

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A cloaked figure peaked out, looking out from his hiding spot towards the Outlanders returning to their vehicle. He ducked back in when he saw the Outlanders turn around and head his way.

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“You didn’t bring us any,” Geib commented.

“As you can see in these readings, there is a faint transmission signal originating from the moon,” Ayabegei continued.

“You didn’t bring us any,” Nuta commented.

Mahie shrugged, and Ayabegei sighed. “If you could please focus.”

“But you didn’t bring us any,” Pip-is interrupted.

“Odeylum, Lyr,, your interruptions are completely unprofessional. I should not be reprimanding you. Furthermore, Senior Lieutenant Patriz, encouraging this behavior is highly irresponsible. I will not be interrupted further,” Ayabegei ordered with a rare increase in volume.

The stern words reminiscent of a strict mother silenced everyone.

“These new readings coincide with odd behaviors from the local populace,” Ayabegei continued. “Junior Lieutenant Vihili detailed his findings in the report that I am certain was read by all.”
Several crew members’ eyes drifted from Ayabegei for a moment. Geib rubbed the side of his head and raised an eyebrow, but just as quickly refocused.

“We will separate into two teams,” Ayabegei explained. “One will investigate the signal on the moon. The other will investigate the excavation site.”

“Patriz, Odeylum, Ocura Reezmin, Rib Chieuch, and La-Naraz will remain here. The remainder will be taking this ship to the moon,” Ayabegei ordered. “Understood?”

Geib’s face scrunched. Ayabegei stared at him coldly. She didn’t blink. Her eyes spoke a silent anger, and in turn, Geib’s eyes cut back in equal measure.

“I, Odeylum, Ocura Reezmin, Rib Chieuch, and La-Naraz will remain here. The remainder will be taking this ship to the moon,” Geib ordered, his voice distinctly steady. “Understood?”

Still Ayabegei didn’t so much as move from her breathing. The crew exchanged hurried, nervous glances, except Suge and Dogot, who only stared forward at nothing.

“Prep the truck,” Geib ordered without looking away. “We leave in 10.”

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It was one of those rides. A dense suffocating silence. The rough road jostled the survey truck, providing the only noise in the air.

Finally, Geib let out his breath. Seconds later, the others did as well.

“What was her problem?” Nuta inquired.

“Our problem!” Geib snapped.

Silence again returned.

“Apologies. Our problem,” Geib stated, turning to Nuta. “We should be demonstrating a sense of professionalism.”

“On that note,” Geib then turned to Dogot. “What was in Vihili’s report?”

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Cisimi walked back to the truck, the gravel of the road crunching beneath her boots. The others had already assembled.

“Nothing for you too?” Nuta asked.

“They also had nothing to say,” Cisimi reported, tilting her head slightly towards a group of Eyaklofkin and their cart.

Many Eyaklofkin were parked on this side of the road to repair their wagons and rest. Each group had been interviewed by the away team.

“None of them will tell us anything,” Dogot stated. “How is that possible? And I don’t feel any of them are lying.”
Geib took a deep breath, writing notes in his digital pad. “Let’s move out then. We can only hope it will make more sense there.”

As they turned to board the truck, a voice hissed out behind them. Several slightly positioned their hands towards their hips as the crunching of gravel approached.

“You seek answers?”

They all turned to see a hooded figure peek out from behind one of the large carts. Its face was obscured, showing only a soured grimacing mouth.

“You’ll find it. But are you ready for the answers?” the figure rasped, letting the words fall from his mouth.

“Who are you?” Cisimi demanded, stepping forward.

In response, the figure backed behind the cart.

“I’m the warning,” the stranger replied. “You would be wise to go right back to your world.”

The figure again poked his head back out. The setting sun hid his face within the shadows, but one could still see it was an Eyaklofk. But its skin was weathered and scarred.

“You will find your answers there, but you’ll wish you hadn’t,” he threatened with a laugh.

He retreated behind the cart as he cackled. Cisimi rushed towards the cart, spinning around it to face him, but found that the stranger had vanished. The team scoured the area, but found no trace of him. Likewise, none of the locals had even seen him at all.

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An opening formed on the side of the moon. Doors split the rock, sliding open stiffly, shaking with its age. Various objects drifted out lazily, there being no pressure or environment to vent. These objects were recovered by various recovery bots that came from the hangar of The Cardboard Box. Anything to reduce the pollution of space before it begins.

The doors completed their tired journey of opening. The space within was just too small for The Cardboard Box. Furthermore, the docking anchors, stairwells, and catwalks were of a smaller scale.

Coming out from The Cardboard Box was the smaller away craft. It floated into the opened chamber. It wedged itself into a comfortable corner and locked into position, not trusting the ancient anchor mounts to hold it.

“Specialist Lyr, still reading?” Ayabegei asked over the comm.

Pip-is looked down at his monitor aboard the away-craft, closed his eyes, and breathed. “Yes.”

Kazochi turned towards him, but said nothing. Rio didn’t even bother looking towards him as she tested the fits on her normal suit. She grumbled to herself as she struggled to align the cuff and sleeve link.

Kazochi had already finished fitting her normal suit but saw that Pip-is having trouble with his.

She started to assist him, but noticed he flinched slightly. Neither said anything. She saw enough on his face.

“What did she say?” Kazochi asked after turning off the comm with The Cardboard Box.

“Znothin,” he mumbled.

“She said ‘znothin’?” Rio chided.

Kazochi turned suddenly to Rio, but she didn’t budge.

Pip-is turned to finish fitting his suit on his own, but did turn regularly to Kazochi to see how she had linked everything.

Once finished, three began their sortie with venting of the away craft’s airlock. The hatch slid open with a reverberating clunk.

Pip-is focused only on his breathing as the three drifted to large doors in the back of the hangar. The silence was so unnerving. All he heard was the open comm signal and his own breathing. It was raspy, haggard, nervous, and hesitant. But he was alone with it.

All three stopped themselves against the walls of the hangar. Pip-is slid over and opened the panel beside the doors. Inside he found a keypad with tiny buttons. The installation was clearly built by a species small in stature, but these buttons were downright silly.

Rio had mounted a metal cylinder roughly 1 meter long onto the wall. It started up, glowing warmly. Electrical systems in the area started warming up. Lights flickered, waking from ancient slumber. The miniature keypad came to life, glowing with the symbols of its makers.

Pip-is placed a small cup against the panel with the keypad. It was linked to Pip-is’ handheld datapad, and with a series of inputs, the datapad beckoned the keypad to open the doors. With a low grumble, the doors began to slide up. Various pieces of equipment drifted out past the away team.

After it cleared, the team entered to find a spacious loading bay. Empty pallets, crates, and small loading vehicles drifted harmlessly about the room. They drifted past these relics, seldom needing to adjust much to dodge anything. They entered another hallway and the height of the building species became too apparent. They all had to crouch slightly to not drag their heads against the ceiling.

Kazochi placed a sensor against a wall. It reverberated intensely against the wall and in doing so, mapped out the structure through reverberations. It wasn’t too accurate, so she was required to do it several times in different places in the hall.

After drifting in the silence for some time, until they entered what appeared to be a control room. The projected power was reaching this far as several of the computers hummed back to life, running through various pages and screens. Each took a computer and set up decoders on each. A projection formed of the translated screens. All were cycling through diagnostics and start up routines.

After some work, Pip-is was able to get past the screens and onto what appeared to be the main operations page.

“Uhm. I’vuhm. I got int’ the main server,” Pip-is reported.

There was silence for a moment. “Understood,” Ayabegei acknowledged. “We are receiving your mirror on this end.”

Pip-is went from screen to screen, menu to menu. The translations showed that most of the information discussed was very vague. Memos, basic operation notes, maintenance reports, all the trivialities. However, in doing so, the language model was evolving rapidly and translations were becoming far more precise.

Finally, Pip-is found an operational menu for something called “Festival”. There was a descriptor with the word, but the translator hadn’t deciphered it yet.

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The away team was uncertain of where to even stand. To and fro where hurried Eyaklofkin. None were still, all moving the stone, lumber, and the like. Each time one of the away team tried to talk to any of the Eyaklofkin, they didn’t so much as acknowledge their existence.

Unable to get anything out of them, the away team pushed forth through the crowds. Lights and the rumbles beckoned to them. Finally, they reached the site. But what it had become.

The observational data had shown a modest dig site of a few meters of brick work. But standing at the edge, they beheld something far grander. It was a gigantic amphitheater stretching two hundred meters wide. The few bricks were now a giant brick and soil flooring. Seats circled the arena with multiple rows past the high walls of the theater. Past the edge, large piles of wood had been assembled into pyres.

Throughout, the Eyaklofkin restored and replaced stone, stacked the wood of pyres, and cleaned away the earth that still obscured parts of the amphitheater.

“How did it take them to do this?” Nuta wondered aloud.

Kisimi’s head twitched, the thick hairs on her skin dancing. “The surveillance data was recorded eleven days ago,” she answered.

“How did they do this? They don’t have advanced machinery,” Dogot marveled.

“Maybe guts?” Ocura suggested. “They don’t talk, and they’re so big.”

Geib looked up at the moon. The sky was darkening with dusk, but the moon already glowed.

It came all in a second. The Eyaklofkin who had been all about the area had silently surrounded and seized them.

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“We found it,” Kazochi reported.

Ayabegei looked over at the mirrored projection. The translations indicated that the internal reactor would need to be restarted in full from its standby state to access the contained information.

“Do’t?” Pip-is asked.

Ayabegei pondered for a moment.

“D’I do it?” Pip-is reported.

“Are you certain of your safety?”Ayabegei replied. “Is there anything you see that would give you pause to activate the reactor?”

A shuffling of screens reflected on the projection.

“Nothing,” Kazochi answered. “Systems indicate that the life support systems will pump an atmosphere with tolerable pressure. We will need to keep our suits on as it isn’t breathable.”

“And the reactor’s fine,” Rio reported from the reactor room. “It’s fine. No damage.”

“The systems that will start when the reactor starts, do you have any idea what it will be?” Ayabegei probed.

“N-no,” Pip-is responed. “Iz something calld Fstivl. Can see nething else.”

Ayabegei closed her eyes. “What can you see then?”

There was silence.

“You stated you can see anything else? Or that you can not,” Ayabegei asked.

“I said I CAN’T,” Pip-is replied, frustration in his voice.

Ayabegei rubbed her forehead slightly.

“Lieutenant, you have a transmission from Senior Lieutenant Patriz,” Wits reported suddenly.

“Instruct him to standby,” Ayabegei blurted abruptly. “Lyr, start the reactor.”

Pip-is entered the command and the reactor grunted back to life. Rio floated away from it and the shower of dust shot from it. But its awakening was smooth with no strain or shake.

Then she fell.

She grumbled as she got back to her feet. The artificial gravity was more intense than she was expecting.

“Thanks chump,” she grumbled over the comm. “You could have warned me that you were turning on the gravity.”

“Imnot! I didn,” Pip-is replied hastily. “Altha systems acomin’on autmticly.”

In time with that last sentence, the moon itself started to rumble.

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With a series of strong pulls, the ropes were locked and knotted around the away team.

“The fools heeded not the warnings!”

Atop a large stage, flanked by raging bonfires, the hooded figure bellowed to the whole of the amphitheater.

“Such was my compassion that they were told to leave, and such was their hubris that they stayed!”

A chorus of howls cheered from around the theater. But from this new position, it was certainly more of an arena. Circling the entire center were dozens of the Eyaklofkin in simple white and brown clothing. In the stands, interspersed were more Eyaklofkin in the same matching garb.

All shouted in unison as the speaker roared.

“Those special ops mechs,” Gieb stated rather aimlessly. “You ever see them? You know which ones I’m talking about?”

“What?” Nuta asked, looking about while straining at his restraints. “Are they here?”

“No, I’m asking if you know them,” Geib clarified.

“What? Why are we talking about that now?” Nuta inquired with a rare harsh tone.

Geib stepped away from the large pole they had all been bound to. He shook the severed ropes from his hands and turned back to the others. He had used his Cha Drive to strip away segments of the ropes binding each of the crew.

He called over the comm to the Cardboard Box.

“What do you need, Senior Lieutenant Patriz?” Ayabegei so thoughtfully asked.

“Rescue,” Geib answered. “We’re surrounded at the theater. We were captured and our weapons were taken.”

“How did this happen,” Ayabegei asked rhetorically. “You have access to a Cha Drive, you do not have a way to break out?”

“There isn’t a lot of material. The soil is too light to make…” Geib started.

“Lieutenant Mazoy,” Kazochi interjected. “We need to evacuate immediately. The structure has become dangerously unstable. We’re on route immediately.”

“The away-ship is taking damage. The hangar is compromised,” Kazochi reported hastily. “We need immediate pick up after we’re loaded.”

There was silence for a moment. Ayabegei then started rapidly issuing orders to retrieve the moon team and to ready a rapid return to the surface. They were on their own for now.

“…AND NOW COMMENCES THE FESTIVAL OF THE STARVED MOON!”

Geib looked up at the cloaked master of ceremonies. Surrounding them all, the Eyaklofkin roared and howled in anticipation. Each of his crew tensed up for whatever was to occur.

“NOW BEGIN OUR TRANSFORMATION FROM THE HOLY EYE!”

Geib had turned the ropes and soil into small metal spikes and handed them to the others.

Over the comm, he could overhear the others fleeing the station to get to the ship. His pulse raced.

It became day.

Night had vanished and in a brightest light, the crew covered their eyes while still trying to observe.

Then night returned. What had changed? The crew looked around, readying themselves for the worst.

The surrounding Eyaklofkin were howling, grunting, and ripping at themselves. They started to grow, and thick hair started forming along their skin.

“You brought up those spec ops mechs,” Nuta started. “Why?”

Geib took a deep breath.

“I always wanted to pilot one before I died.”

The Eyaklofkin closed in on them, snarling and snapping, their faces parting with huge mouths and growing eyes. They closed in, completely encircling the crew.

“NOW, BEASTS OF DARKNESS, COMMIT TO YOUR TRUE SHAPE!”
As the words came, the final lurching of their bodies surged. Their transformation completed, sending their robes, cloaks, and assorted hoods flying.

And then they were revealed.

Large eyes, covered in dense wool, tongues hanging from their drooling mouths, disproportionally large paws, long bushy tails, and floppy ears that often covered their eyes.

“NOW TEAR THEM TO PIECES!”

Geib stepped forward to take the incoming tackle. The others moved to attack the Eyaklofk that had brought him down.

Instead, they stopped as they witnessed the unthinkable.

The Eyaklofk wagged its tail as it licked and nibbled at Geib’s face.

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“Genetic programming?” Admiral Ryitonem asked.

“Yes sir,” Ayabegei reported. “Further analysis of the lunar installation showed that an ancient space faring species had programmed the early native ancestors of the Eyaklofkin to possess this transformation ability.”

“For what purpose?” Ryitonem inquired.

“Entertainment,” Ayabegei replied after a moment to breathe. “The Eyaklofkin were part of an entertainment cycle, presumably from visitors that had long since stopped coming. Everything in terms of preparation and construction was programmed instinct. Even the role of orator was programmed. And the Eyaklofkin have no recollection or understanding at all of this entire ritual.”

“I see. A pointless curiosity,” Ryitonem concluded. “An investigation into this space faring culture will be done. Your work is done there.”

“However,” came the words with a click of the metal on his lips.

Ryitonem’s projection looked down on Ayabegei. His gleaming metal glare was rendered perfectly.

“There is the matter of the crisis you faced,” he beamed down upon her.

Ayabegei’s eyelids lowered nigh imperceptibly.

“The drop ship had enough functionality to operate independently. The ground team faced a clear danger. But you chose to recover the ship first.”

Ryitonem smiled with the clicking bell.

“It’s curious indeed.”

Ayabegei felt the inclination to defend her judgment. She didn’t know the integrity of the drop ship until it was recovered. She operated with the information she had. And she knew that he knew this. So she remained silent.

“If that’s the capacity of command you can demonstrate, perhaps I’ve misjudged you,” Ryitonem sneered.

“Dismissed.”