EliteCommander

The Cradle

Vreta breathed a quick sigh of relief from Freyr’s answer. He was not willing to eat or use any product that required killing a live animal. Virtually any animal product on Rothia was grown artificially, and fortunately, the Humans did possess the same technology. He could now confidently resume his meal, which he did enthusiastically once the topic shifted to the Cradle. It gave him a moment to make sure his program was ready to make any changes to what the cameras were hearing, if he deemed it necessary. For now, though, he doubted he would need to make any changes. She was asking about his cover story, which he definitely wanted any potential eavesdroppers to hear.

“Not exactly.” Vreta answered after a few moments. “I believe I mentioned back in the Cradle that I work for the Zuraxi’Synkuur corporation. I can’t go into detail about our business deals, I’m afraid, but I can say that we sell…simplified Rothian technology on other worlds, outside Rothian space. I have spearheaded deals with a handful of companies on Outremer, and a part of my responsibilities are to ensure that the companies we deal with are living up to our standards. A condition of our deals is usually that I am permitted to inspect both testing and production facilities of the company in question. On Outremer, testing facilities are usually found within the Cradle, so I do spend a fair amount of time there. But, I would say I still spend more time in the real world, which, especially now, I would say is preferable.”

The Cradle

Vreta chuckled softly for a few seconds as he took a seat on the bench alongside Freyr. While somewhat small, he would not call it uncomfortable. “We do not age as most other species do, that is true. Eternal life, though…well, I do suppose that is the goal, for most of us. The oldest of us come from a time just before we started to leave our homeworld. By your counting of years, I think that would be around…1,100 years? I’m not completely sure of the conversion. Or, well, I should say that 1,100 years is when our medicine became sophisticated enough for us to essentially guarantee survival against disease and disorders. Some individuals are centuries older than that. For me, I am in my sixth century. Back when I was a hatchling, it was just us and two other intelligent species known in the galaxy. Our galactic community has grown quite a lot since then.”

Following Freyr’s lead, Vreta followed the same motions of wrapping his roll and eating it with the sauce. It seemed to be a mix of meat and vegetables, wrapped in a way that made it quite convenient to eat. That, in itself, was not a unique idea to their species, but the ingredients certainly were. Rothia imported foods from nearly every intelligent species in the galaxy, but they tended to favor meat more heavily when they crafted dishes from those ingredients. The roll, and particularly its sauce, tasted quite different from anything he had tried. He did particularly enjoy its sweetness.

“But yes, we do live many lives across the centuries, to keep those lives interesting. I have been everything from a soldier, to a programmer, to a corporate executive, to a failed professional athlete.” Vreta replied before giving another look down at his roll. “Also, just…a question. Do you know if they grow their meat, or raise it from animals here?”

The Cradle

Vreta’s eyes scanned the crowd to search for Freyr. It was something of a difficult task for him to spot her out among all of the other Humans, especially since he did not have an image of her on record as he usually would have for Humans he wanted to remember. His Rothian mind was not designed to pick up on Human facial features, so having images for reference could help him interact more naturally with them in social situations. The rain also presented a problem in that most of the crowd were walking around with coverings over their heads to keep them dry. Rain did not bother Vreta nearly as much as it seemed to affect Humans. His scaly skin was waterproof, so the rain slid off of him easily.

Fortunately, it was far easier for Freyr to pick Vreta out of a crowd, so it did not take long for her to approach him and grab his attention. By that point, his program had embedded itself firmly in various corner’s of the district’s public network. In many ways, it was like a living thing in itself, maneuvering its way through the city’s software unseen and hiding in the shadows of other programs from the automated intrusion detection system. The Cradle itself might have been peer to Rothian technology, but his program was still hundreds of years more advance than anything Human-made that might try to root it out. With the access he now had, Vreta did not yet do anything disruptive. He simply had his program identify any camera or other sensor that could see or hear himself or Freyr so that he could make changes to what they observed if he deemed it necessary.

For the moment, however, Vreta did not require any secrecy. He matched her friendly approach with just as friendly of a greeting. “Hello. It is no trouble to be here. I think this is something we can both benefit from talking about.” He remarked as he started to look around the market, particularly at the stall Freyr pointed out. He did not want to rush straight into business, as some more casual conversation could be useful to obscure what they were discussing. “I shall be honest, I do not know what that is, but I am eager to try it. Coming to places like this, it is one of the things I enjoy about working in foreign space. Stepping into this market is like stepping back in time. I’m sure I could find something like it somewhere in Rothian space, but that would be no more than a novelty. This is just…a part of your city. There are many of my kind that find it dangerous just to leave Rothian worlds, but I do think it worth a little risk to really experience the galaxy. I learned as much as I could about your people’s cultures before I came here, but it is quite different to experience it in person.”

The Cradle

Vreta paused just a moment in consideration of Freyr’s suggestion. His ideal situation would be to hold the meeting in his apartment, as he had already made certain that he could keep anything that happened within its walls away from prying eyes. However, he doubted that would be an option in this case. Still, it was no disaster. With the right applications of the tools at his disposal, he could control recordings of him in public spaces almost as well. The program that ran his neural implants was essentially an AI by Human standards, albeit a specialized one. With his thoughts directing it, he could tailor custom malware to invade Human networks and manipulate them in real-time. His power over them was not limitless, but he was confident in the sophistication of his programs.

“I…can’t say I know what Goi Cuon is, but I’m willing to try it.” Vreta answered, matching her somewhat more positive tone. “I do want to talk about this as well. Maybe together we can make some sense of the insanity that has been this evening. Just give me an address, and I will make my way there as soon as I can.”

---

Vreta had not required much in the way of preparation. For him, the vast majority of what he needed to do his job could be found under his scales. Even if he carried nothing with him, he was, with the notable exception of the Cradle, always prepared. Traversing the city was much slower than back home, but he had been in the city for long enough to have grown accustomed to it.

When he finally did arrive at Boycott Park, there was a moment where Vreta lost focus on the task ahead of him. The food market itself was, from his perspective, a rather unique sight. It was in the center of a fairly large park, wide and open, with plenty of natural flora. It felt separate from the rest of the city, and the market even moreso. It had a myriad of small, privately-owned stalls all packed closely together. It was a place he would describe as vibrant and lively. Even as the sun was beginning to set over the horizon, the crowds did not seem to diminish. Many of the pathways were lit by paper candles hanging on strings crossing over them. The general glow of the city surrounding them likely would have been enough to illuminate the area, in any case, but they did add to the visual appeal.

It was places like this that Vreta enjoyed to visit, and it was one of the advantages of working outside of Rothian territory. By the way the crowds acted, he could tell it was not just a novelty to them. It was…genuine, not a tourist attraction. For a moment, Vreta was tempted to follow his nose to the most interesting of the scents that filled the air, but he could not be shaken from his purpose for long. He had a task ahead of him. He went ahead and planted his program in the city’s public network by hiding it in a simple request for a map of the local area. From there, it could start its work on breaking through security protections. With that situated, he sent a quick message to Freyr to inform her that he had arrived. Somehow, he doubted he would be hard to find in the crowd.

The Cradle

Vreta had been considering getting some rest when he suddenly received the notification for a call, and the caller herself was someone who immediately caught his eye: Freyr Lang. In truth, she was someone he had intended to contact himself, eventually. He had just intended to lay low for a few days, but having that opportunity present itself so quickly was not something he wanted to ignore. She was clearly a scientist who worked closely with the Cradle. By helping her as much as he had, he was already well on his way with ingratiating himself with her, which could prove a boon to his goal of learning more about the Cradle. Still, considering the other factors involved with CraSec and the Outremer government, he would have to play this well.

Vreta had the call routed through his neural implant as an overlay with the call information appeared in the corner of his vision. He patiently allowed Dr. Lang to speak, despite her rather rambling approach to a greeting. Even with his own goals aside, he could genuinely understand why one in her position would be so out-of-sorts. When it was finally his turn to speak, he made sure to keep his tone calm and soft. “Of course. You can call me Vreta. Rothian names are not…quite the same as those of Humans. As for what happened I…just want to start by saying that I am so sorry for what you are going through. I can hardly imagine it. I know it might not have seemed that way back in the Cradle, but you have to understand I was a soldier many years ago. In such dangerous, stressful situations, I know I can seem rather…detached. It is a mental defense mechanism that is trained into us. Now that we are in safety, though, I just want to say that I do feel for you. No being deserves to suffer through such a thing, and I promise I do want to help you.”

With some degree of hesitation in his voice, Vreta continued. He wanted to make sure to convey that this was not his preferred answer, but the situation was forcing it upon him. “But…are you sure this is a conversation you want to have remotely? I heard the Skinners were involved in all of this, yes? From my understanding, they are a criminal group, right? Terrorists? I apologize if this is offensive, but I do find digital security on this world to be…lacking by Rothian standards. For a topic as personal to you as this, I wouldn’t want a group like that to catch wind of it. Who knows how they might use it against you, and…you never know who might be listening in on a call like this?” Vreta warned, his words carrying a double meaning. His reason for not wanting to speak about it over a call was genuine, though it was not the Skinners he was concerned about. Regardless of whether or not she picked up on the subtext, though, his stated reason was a valid concern.

“Would you rather talk in person?” Vreta asked.

The Cradle

With his message sent, Vreta could finally start trying to put the day’s events behind him. Through experience and a cool head, he had gotten out alive, and if he could help it, he was going to try to avoid entering the hellscape that was the Cradle again. What he had witnessed only cemented his views on Humanity’s exploitation of the Cradle. It was technology they did not understand, and they were foolish for intertwining it so deeply into their society. They were so desperate to try and push their technology forward that Outremer was now dependant on what could essentially be a time bomb. The creatures could not have come from anywhere but the Cradle itself, and no one, not even the Rothians, knew the true purpose of the Cradle.

Now that he was out of danger, Vreta did have the opportunity to think in more depth about what he had witnessed. He wished he could have had access to his implants through it all, for a multitude of reasons, but mostly for the purpose of recordkeeping. With his implants, he could have recorded everything he saw so he could go back and view it again to catch anything he missed. Regardless, his neural implants now, at the very least, could save his memories as they were so they did not degrade any farther.

Once again, Vreta found himself laying back on his couch, his feet hanging partially off the side. Normally after such physical exertion, he would have worked up an appetite, but he supposed none of that exercise was truly real. So, instead of a second dinner, he thought back on the details of his experience. Of particular interest to Vreta was his brief conversation with one of the creatures. The way he saw it, there were two likely possibilities for what they were: Human minds that had been corrupted in some way, or independent intelligences that came from within the Cradle. Or some combination of the two. The most striking evidence of the former was that the creature had used a face that the Human, Freyr, had recognized. Vreta distinctly remembered the creature claiming “They are mine” when she asked about her husband. However, Vreta also remembered a part of the conversation that would have been strange for just corrupted Humans.

When it was just him and the creature, it spoke of recognizing Vreta. It would not make much sense for it to be speaking of him as an individual, since he hardly knew any Humans on this planet personally, so all that was left was for it to be speaking of him as a Rothian. The phrasing was strange, too. It spoke of him “crawling from the ocean to the rocks”, as he remembered it. The Cradle was a truly ancient supercomputer, and those words made it sound like its creators had watched the Rothian species itself evolve. Though, he did not want to make such rash assumptions just yet. There were other ways he could interpret the encounter. Perhaps this was some combination of an independent intelligence within the Cradle, and corrupted Human minds? Perhaps it had gone insane as a result?

The Cradle

There might have been more that Vreta wanted to say, particularly to Freyr. Whether he liked it or not, it was still his task to learn more about the cradle, and he saw the possibility that a grateful scientist that worked on the cradle could help him towards that end. However, at this point, he was not going to do anything that might slow down his return to the real world for even a second. Once he was allowed to do so, he gave a polite farewell to the both of them and finally logged out of the Cradle.

---

Returning safely to his hotel room was now one of the most relieving feelings Vreta had experienced in his life. There was no one that Vreta encountered on the way back to his room, so whoever that man represented might not have had anyone in the building just yet. It was hard to say, truthfully; it would all depend on how the Human decided to approach watching him. Though, he had little doubt that he would be watched in some way. Frankly, Vreta might have felt offended if he was not.

It was tempting for Vreta to want to relax after all the stress he had been through. He had survived more near-death experiences in the last hour than he had in the past two centuries combined, and he felt rather horrible in general. He was, quite thankfully, back in his actual body, complete with all of his enhancements. His neural implants were already at work correcting his neurochemical balance to reduce the chances of long-term psychological damage. However, he was still feeling phantom pains, particularly in his arm, for injuries that did not exist. That, to his understanding, might last a day or two.

Before Vreta could even think about resting his mind, he first had to give his report to his superiors. His mission was not over, he knew, but he had finally learned something worth reporting. As he headed into his bedroom to get his suitcase once again, he started writing up his report, though not through anything as inefficient as an external device. Through his neural implants, he could create a data file, write and edit it purely through thought, and have it strongly encrypted, even by Rothian standards. For now, he just kept his report mostly to a factual recounting of events, without too much speculation or opinion on his part. He would have time to consider the implication of the night’s events later. For now, he activated the data pad he had used to interact with his sniffer programs and uploaded his report to it. The Zuraxi’Synkuur corporation had in its headquarters Rothian superluminal communications hardware, which worked on a level of sophistication beyond Human understanding. His device could bypass the usual adapter layer that Human networks used to interact with Rothian software, allowing him to send his message discretely. It masked the true message under a more mundane one sent through usual channels, so while an intercepted message was unlikely to begin with, he still had a good deal of plausible deniability. The encrypted message could easily be seen as junk data stemming from the fundamental differences in their computer architecture. Even so, he wiped the device once more to erase any chance of leaving a trace.

Halo: Aegis Team

As Aegis team disembarked the phantom, they were met immediately with hostile ground fire. The roof of the structure they had been dropped on was large and mostly flat, with little cover for either side, save for some weapon crates that had been dropped where they were when the attack started. There were ten or so armed rebels surrounding a ramp leading down into the interior of the structure, as well as a group of four Brutes that were closer to the edge of the roof on the north side. The rebels were fighting defensively, seemingly to guard the entrance, though the Brutes had started to rush at Aegis team to get in melee range before the first of them had even touched the ground.

When the rockets came in, it was from another squad of rebels that had emerged up the ramp at the center of the structure. They were carrying rockets, fuel rod cannons, and other high explosives, and had likely been sent up as a response to the attack in general. However, they had eneded up in the right place at the right time to deal with Tar’s phantom. There was little chance for meaningful evasion before two rockets struck one of her engines directly. The heavy weapons might have been meant for anti-vehicle roles, but they would still be a massive threat to the members of Aegis.

The Cradle

The Human’s thinly-veiled accusation was apparent, but this was a game to which Vreta was no stranger. He did not give any hint to his thoughts in his reaction, letting out only something of an amused hum. “Well, the simple answer is that I wasn’t.” Vreta replied.

Vreta paused just a moment, letting out a grunt as he shifted his injured arm into a more comfortable position. “Like I said, I’m a representative of the Zuraxi’Synkuur corporation. I am not at liberty to discuss all of the details of our transactions, but suffice to say that we have extensive dealings with the corporation that holds this district. A part of our agreements stipulate that I am permitted to inspect their testing and production facilities to ensure they meet our agreed-upon standards. That was why I came here today. I got wind of a disturbance in one of our partners’ holdings, so I wanted to ensure they were not at fault for whatever was happening. Negligence on their part could affect our contracts with them. This district was not locked down, either by its owner or the Outremer government, and I had full permission to be here. I respected all boundaries set by your men at the crime scene and did not trespass. The shed I investigated was outside the perimeter set by your soldiers. Whether or not they should have restricted access to that building is between you and your officers, but I broke no laws in entering. I can provide you copies of all of the necessary legal documents, once we are out of the Cradle.”

The Cradle

“You can fortify all you want, but don’t underestimate these things. I don’t know what these things are, exactly, but if they’re from the Cradle, then you’re fighting on their territory, not yours. You didn’t create this place.” Vreta warned.

In any case, Vreta followed the man into the transit station. Although, he could not help but to be disappointed that they did not return from the Cradle right away. He had a multitude of reasons for wanting to be rid of this place. He did take a seat on the stool provided for him on the man’s insistence, but Vreta’s general discomfort started to become more and more visibly apparent the longer the man spoke.

Vreta was making a few mental notes on the topic Freyr discussed with the man. While he had guessed this already, their conversation did confirm that the creatures were related to the disturbance at the office building. In his research since he arrived on Outremer, Vreta had heard of the Skinners. Their goals and methods earned them the label of terrorists, though with what Vreta had seen of the Cradle, he personally felt they might have the right of it. Regardless, he did not bring it up. When Vreta was finally questioned directly, he decided to give a show of cooperation with an honest answer. “I can’t be completely sure. When I investigated the shed, I only got a look inside for a few seconds before that thing knocked out the power. Just by its appearance, it might have been some kind of communications equipment.”

Vreta revealed yet more of his discomfort when his grimace showed his bloodstained teeth. Glancing to the side, he put more pressure on his injured arm. “Look, I’m willing to talk about this with you, but I’d really rather not do this in the Cradle. That creature knocked out a few of my teeth, by arm burns like the ninth ring, and frankly, the blood loss is distracting. More importantly, I’m not completely convinced that border isn’t going to come crashing down on us again at any moment. Did those creatures really retreat, or are they just gathering their forces? I promise my cooperation for every one of your questions if we return to the real world. Like I said, my name is Vreta’Sori, representative of the Zuraxi’Synkuur corporation. I’m staying on the twenty-first floor of the Synastar Hotel. You look like a man with the authority to run my identity, so I’m sure you can get confirmation this is all true. Someone as high-profile as me, you know I can’t just escape unnoticed. I’ll go back to my hotel room and wait for you there; you have my word.”