Cath

The Cradle

Freyr ran a hand through her hair to help her think; it was getting quite long. “Again, this thing could be completely different from the Cradle. But… the only real ‘upload’ we’ve managed would be Human consciousness using the harnesses. Pretty much everything else requires a link to be established from inside the environment first. It’s definitely worth a try though. In fact, we have the latest iteration of our Hunter Gatherer program in stock. It was showing promising results in Cradle data translation trials.”

“Perhaps we should run both programs at the same time and see which one does best?” 595 offered, picking at her teeth with a tiny sliver of plastic. Freyr glared at her and snipped a message over privately. “What are you doing? It’s not a foot race, Agent.” 595 grinned, showing off pearly white gnashers. ”Just trying to keep things interesting, Doctor.” Freyr turned back to the Rothians. “Please excuse my bodyguard. She means well.”

595 scoffed. “So i’m just a bodyguard now?” Freyr turned back to her. ”Please, be quiet. I am running things here.”

“That’s my girl! Now; say that to the Rothians.” Freyr gritted her teeth. The Agent was really starting to wind her up today.

The Cradle

“Yes of course, how stupid of me.” Freyr muttered. She’d been finding it hard to focus since the news of Dr Hou’s sudden death. He had been one of her most trusted colleagues and advisors; she didn’t understand how she’d neglected to notice he was unhappy. Her nights had already been fraught before this, now they were almost unbearable. Still, there was a lot riding on this expedition; Freyr wouldn’t allow it to fail on her account.

“We could try an AI. However it’s proved a very unproductive, unethical, dangerous method in the past. They’ve always gone rogue and either disappeared into the Cradle or tried to destabilise us; going after the biosphere et cetera.. All their readouts go dead immediately upon making contact. From what we can gather, the Cradle is a little too good at manipulating other machine intelligences; that’s why we had to go inside to set up shop ourselves.

Freyr turned to look at the hologram of the new object again. “We can test out the other communications packages our teams have collaborated on too. Like you say, there’s no guarantee it shares any similarities with the Cradle. I’m just going off what I know.”

Halo: Aegis Team

Tar 'Mdalak

---

From her position behind the crates, Tar had a slightly better view of the elevated platforms above them. She couldn’t see any hostiles peeking out just yet. “I can’t see anyone on the platforms; will keep an eye out.” Tar reported, just as the box she was hiding behind began shuddering from a hail of bullets. Cover was particularly poor this close to the near pillars; Tar needed to get into the grid of crates to stand a chance.

She noticed her left leg was starting to hurt; blood trickled slowly from a gap in her armour plating. Could that bullet she’d felt while holding up her Brute cover outside have gone through, rather than grazed her? She wasn’t sure. Tar probed the gap with one of her fingers, mandibles clamped together. She couldn’t find an entry wound. She’d need to leave it be for now and look once the fighting had stopped.

Tar peeked out from behind the crate she hid behind. A couple of Brutes and Humans had been dealt with, and part of the room was on fire. She could see shapes flitting between the stacks of crates toward the back of the room. It looks like they’d abandoned their previous position. “Our foe runs! We should press the attack.” Tar called, shooting between crates at two Humans as they scrambled for cover. One of them fell over.

Tar had never actually killed Humans before now. There’d been no need to; her time with the Silent Shadow remnants had been exclusively focused on killing Brutes. She found these Human warriors to be quite disappointing so far. She’d simmed against ODSTs and other Human elements in Paxopolis, but that’d been in a carefully controlled environment. This was real.

“Moving!” Tar announced, mostly out of necessity. The crate she’d hidden behind had practically fallen apart. She got up and stepped into a ‘corridor’ between two rows of crates leading to the other side of the room. She spotted a Human with a SAW at the opposite end of the corridor just as they opened fire. Tar only made it forward one row before ducking back behind another stack of boxes. “I'm pinned, how is my right side looking?” Tar asked, partly to herself as she peeked around the other side of the box and partly to Aegis team, who would have a more holistic view.

The Cradle

Freyr walked over to Marae’s side from a nearby console to study the hologram. “Interesting. It’s a different shape and size to the Cradle.” She grabbed her AR glasses from where they hung around her neck and put them on. “Could be the same material profile. Hard to tell without a closer look. Have we detected any signals from it?”

Freyr then turned and called to a short, barrel chested man in a white lab coat on the other side of the lab. “Apalkov, any luck gaining access with the harness?” There was a short pause; the members of Freyr’s team with parts to play were all deep in concentration. “I think we’re getting close! I just need to make some adjustments to the chemical mix.” A murmur of excitement spread through the lab - Freyr just nodded, thoroughly in the zone. “Good, once you’re confident, i’ll go under and see if we can interface with it.”

“Definitely not. You’re too valuable to this mission; I can't allow you to go under. We have no fucking idea what's in there.” 595 sniped, moving so she stood right in Freyr's way. "What other options do we have? I'm not prepared to risk the lives of anyone else on this ship." Freyr retorted, more quietly. "Why don't I go? Let's face it, nobody cares if I live or die." 595 murmured, a sheepish smile on her face.

The Cradle

“I think we’d all find it acceptable if we just dropped the whole subject while having brunch, hmm?” 595 replied immediately. She looked round at the others, daring them to say anything. “Fine by me.” Masgard smirked. Freyr couldn’t tell if 595 was genuinely horrified, if she was winding Vreta up, or something else. She could’ve answered Vreta at a push, but she was too exhausted to argue with the Agent right now.

Sensing a bit of tension, Kalax pulled a chilled bottle of champagne out of the bag that had contained ingredients for kedgeree too. He deftly unwrapped the cork, popped the bottle open and poured out five glasses. “Here’s to Vreta, for being a fine host. Cheers!” Freyr grabbed her flute and raised it into the air with Kalax before taking a drink. “To go backwards slightly, thank you for the offer of a memory share. However, I think i’ll take a pass this time; I try not to live in the past wherever I can, unless it’s to recall information for work.”

Freyr had forced herself to stop watching recordings of intimate family moments about a month ago. She couldn’t dislodge a worry at the back of her mind that even reliving last night may tempt her to start again. She gulped down another spoonful of food when she got a private call request from Captain Andersen. She furrowed her brow and accepted the call. This was quite unusual.

“Good morning captain, everything okay?”

“..Good morning Dr Lang. I’m...sorry to be the bearer of bad news. But one of your team, Dr Hou, sadly died late last night. We think he committed suicide. Could you please return to the ship at your earliest convenience? We need to-” Freyr disconnected the call, in shock.

The Cradle

“Oh yeah, i remember that.” Freyr confessed, shoving a big spoon full of kedgeree into her mouth. “I somehow knew all the moves to make, without anyone telling me.” Kalax nodded furiously. “The Sthrirad is really just a few dozen collective intelligences; I’m told it can quickly share information between hosts. Which is why we all knew what everyone was saying, even though I can see only garbled implant comms from late that evening.” Kalax surmised.

Everyone in that kitchen made some kind of noise and nervous movement when Vreta said the word ‘mating’. Kalax laughed, spraying kedgeree in front of him. Freyr and Masgard firmly clamped their lips together in an attempt to hold back laughter. Freyr studied the ceiling in a desperate effort to avoid catching anyone else’s eye. 595 groaned and placed her face in her hands. “Vreta’Sori. Please NEVER say ‘mating’ anywhere near me again. We, I...blew off steam. We didn’t mate. What're you laughing about?” She directed the last question at the rest of the group, eyeing each of them in turn.

Masgard blew air through his nose; Freyr began shuddering in her seat, unable to contain it all. "I agree, the word is uncomfortable to Human ears. But - i find it...sweet. That you guys had fun together." Kalax said very diplomatically, quickly regaining his composure.

The Cradle

“Quite exhilarating, isn’t it?” Kalax responded to Vreta, carefully shuffling the kedgeree into a shallow bowl and sliding it across the island to him. He then did the same thing for 595, Freyr, Masgard and then himself. “Wallace was an Ambassador on Tind for a long time before becoming Plenipotentiary. I’m told she spent a year hosting the Sthrirad, to learn about it. Don’t worry about your Touch though, the Sthrirad can usually only stay in Human bodies for about six hours at a time, and Rothians about eight. She told me.” Kalax beamed.

“I had a great time right here, for what it’s worth.” Masgard offered, tucking into his bowl of kedgeree. “I still think we could’ve got away with sampling a little more Rothian nightlife. Even if it was to cheer Miss Morose up.” 595 pouted. “Hey! I’m not morose. I’m also still struggling to remember much. Is that a good thing?” Freyr asked.

The Cradle

“Oh, well. Seeing as i don’t have an income or any assets, the fines should be pretty low. I’m just a lowly warrior-servant, after all. I’m sure Kalax can pay my way.” 595 winked at Vreta just as Kalax playfully flung a rice-flecked spoon at her from across the kitchen. She plucked it out of the air without looking, put it back down on the island and pulled a stylish baggy shirt and skirt combination out of the box. “I suppose this will have to do.” 595 sighed, quickly changing into the outfit.

“Only the best ingredients, Vreta’Sori. I have an account with the Rothia Trading Company import office; they deliver the finest ingredients to me by drone each day.” The Ambassador deftly took the steaming pan of Kedgeree off the hob and onto a heat mat on the kitchen island as Freyr and Masgard entered. “Perfect timing! Come sit.” Kalax said to the new arrivals. 595 briefly acknowledged them before looking at Vreta. “Alright, message received! I’ll go and have a bath the moment i finish eating.” She turned to study Freyr’s dishevelled appearance. “By the looks of it, you could use a nice relaxing swim too. Interested?” Freyr nodded. “After brunch. I am famished.” All of the humans nodded; the Sthrirad had evidently worked up a bit of an appetite for them.

The Cradle

"Really? I hardly touched the sweaty little man." 595 pouted. "I will admit this place is fun, but everyone needs to lighten up a little. I wasn't expecting that much pressure to return home after one minor incident in the line of duty. How much is the fine?" The agent asked, scratching her neck and carefully treading a path through the half-consumed drinks on the floor around the couch.

"Kalax darling, do you have food and clothing for me?" The Ambassador turned around from the hob. "Kedgeree and a tracksuit, my dear. Wallace sent over a change of clothes for all of us." Kalax himself was wearing his work clothes underneath a white chef's apron. He looked very fresh and handsome in an androgynous sort of way.

595 skittered over to the Ambassador’s lanky form. He held out a spoon of seasoned rice, dusted with flakes of haddock and egg. "Is this cooked to your satisfaction?" 595 maneuvered her mouth around the spoon with an exaggerated "NOM" sound. She swallowed and grinned. "Delicious. Where are the clothes?" Kalax turned and pointed to a large box on the other side of the kitchen island with his spoon. "You may want to wash first, you smell." 595 skittered round to the box and opened it. "Food first, wash later." She replied.

Back in one of the guest bedrooms, Freyr was blown away by this recent discovery. She'd sat up in bed, the duvet wrapped around her, a cup of water clutched in her hand. "So how did it happen?". Masgard glanced toward the door. "I think 595 was always going to hook up with someone last night. The pool of candidates just got a lot smaller when our outing was cut short.”

That response left questions in Freyr's mind, but she didn't get a chance to voice them before Kalax called over comms. “Brunch is ready! Don’t let it get cold.” Masgard levered himself off the bed. “Fresh clothes are here. Special delivery from Wallace.” Freyr was starving, so she jumped out of bed straight after Masgard exited the room, threw on the light, comfortable short-sleeve overalls, and followed him.

The Cradle

“How are you feeling?” Masgard asked, sitting on the side of the bed as Freyr swallowed the pill and finished the glass of water. The cocktail of painkillers, stimulants and electrolytes suppressed her crushing headache and allowed Freyr to at least open her eyes. She moved the cover from over her head. Masgard was dressed in a new suit, light grey this time. He looked annoyingly put together, all things considered. “Rough. I’ll be ready in the minute. What happened last night?” Masgard chuckled, looking out of a window and scratching his nose. “Well, umm, Vreta'Sori and 595 got together.”

“What?!”

“Shhh, they’ll hear you! I just wanted to warn you in case they’re still on the couch.”

In the open plan living space down the hall, 595 woke up to look straight in Vreta’s eyes. She looked around and realised where they were. “Well, good morning.” She murmured, quickly levering herself up so she could look over the back of the couch. The room was massive, but that didn’t stop the sounds and smells of Kalax preparing breakfast wafting over from the kitchen island. He didn’t seem to notice her, so she dropped back down.

595 quickly slid off the couch and found her underwear in a pile. While hopping into her sturdy black knickers and bra, she spooled back through her black box recordings to fill in some of the blanks. Admittedly there weren’t many; she’d been filtering some of the effects so she was still somewhat able to discharge her duties. She bit her lip at the memory of hoisting that innocent in the club. Oops. Kinda invigorating though. Being the most deadly woman in any room was a key benefit of the role, she thought.

595 looked at Vreta. “Don’t get any ideas, big guy.”