The Next Day

“What a fucking trip this has turned out to be…”

“Would you really rather be traipsing around a Nanocreature-covered wasteland?” Twy countered.

“Well… …not really…” Sky admitted, her chin in her hands and elbows on the table as she idly kicked her legs in boredom. “But we’ve been just sitting around since yesterday! Can’t we go do something?”

“Sorry, y’all,” Luke replied, “but we aren’t here on leisure. Until we hear back from the Suns, we have to stay put.”

“Can’t complain, personally,” Conrad remarked, his head laid down on the table adjacent to the one the twins were sitting at. He then yawned before continuing, “if we’re lucky, we won’t have to go back into that dreary place at all…”

“A place you’d never expect to be next door to where we are now,” Phoenix commented. “It feels like we’re on an entirely different planet!”

Phoenix’s words were self-evident in their surroundings — in the gleaming white towers of Holres’Ken. All of the Earthians, accompanied by Kaoné and Rebehka, were currently seated in a massive public indoor lounge located within one of the city’s skyscrapers, but despite being nearly two kilometers above ground, a veritable forest of metal and glass presented itself through the lounge’s windows. Elegant, seemingly gravity-defying curves made up most of the buildings’ designs, while wide aerial streets allowed for corridors of hovercars as well as the passing of clouds below. The urban jungle seemed to stretch in every direction, even in the direction of Holres’Ket, where massive and intricate holograms masked the MICO from the citizens living their everyday lives in Holres’Ken.

“You can’t even see the damage from here,” Spike commented as he peered out the massive lounge windows in the direction of Holres’Ket. “That’s some impressive tech!”

“I’m more weirded out by the people…” Austin said, watching as all manner of CSA citizens moved through the mall-sized lounge. The curious three-segmented, lightning-bolt shaped legform of the Siions and Dra’kis dominated the crowd, to the point where the more galactically common two-segmented legform of the Earthians and Nimalians seemed a minority. After all, of the three CSA races, only the Citans appeared similarly to the Earthians and Nimalians; in accordance with that, only around a third of the crowds matched the Earthians in general appearance. Even seating was primarily designed with the Siions and Dra’kis in mind, such that all chairs and seats were supported entirely by hind legs or middle poles, and the seat itself could flip upwards to allow a Siion or Dra’kis to fully stand up without needing to awkwardly shuffle their legs out from under the seat, or splay out their legs in front of them.

“…That’s just how things are in the CSA,” Rebehka pointed out. “Throughout the galaxy, Aldredanoid races are more common, but in the CSA itself, the Siions and Dra’kis are the majority. I agree it can be a little weird at first, but you get used to it.”

“Why do their legs look so much different from ours?” Sky questioned.

“That’s hard to say,” Kaoné answered. “One theory is that the Siions and Dra’kis have a different ancestor from the rest of us; the Siions and Dra’kis both are rather long-lived compared to everyone else, as well, so their evolutionary generations are much longer. There is simply no way that they evolved those legs in between the fall of the Aldredas a hundred thousand years ago and today.”

“The theory goes that the Siions and Dra’kis share a common ancestor with the Drakkars, rather than the Aldredas…” Rebehka added, “but, given the violent history between the CSA and the Drakkars, few Siions or Dra’kis are willing to entertain the notion.”

“It wouldn’t explain why they otherwise look identical to us, anyways,” Phoenix pointed out. “Aside from those legs — and the Dra’kis’ four fingers, I guess — you’d never be able to tell a Siion or a Dra’kis apart from a Citan, or a Nimalian, or even an Earthian. Do we really believe that convergent evolution is enough of an explanation for that?”

“And while we’re at it — the theory of a common Aldredian ancestor doesn’t seem like enough to explain why we look so similar to you guys,” Pierce remarked while passing Kaoné and Rebehka a glance. “The Aldredas were only around a hundred thousand years ago, right? But humans on Earth have ancestors going way farther back than that. For the Aldredas theory to work, your Nimalian ancestors would already have to be hella similar to our own!”

“I agree that it all seems a little insufficient as an explanation…” Kaoné replied, only to shrug. “But it’s all we have.”

“We aren’t evolutionary biologists, anyways, so it isn’t really our place to speculate,” Rebehka remarked.

“It sure is convenient, in a way,” Sky said, “if a little disappointing, to learn that aliens actually look just like us… well, aside from the Drakkars, that is.”

“And even then, they’re still vaguely humanoid,” Phoenix stated.

“But it is kind of nice, to know that other civilizations can still be similar to our own,” Mark commented as he idly observed the crowds. “…Including their ability to simply ignore what’s going on right next door.”

“I guess that’s weird, too, now that you mention it,” Austin affirmed. “This planet still has Nanocreatures on it, how is everyone here so calm?”

“Strictly speaking, there’s Nanocreatures on Nimalia, too,” Twy replied. “Remember what we saw in Relédiaka?”

“And it’s apparently a problem on islands, too,” Phoenix pointed out. “The Hazard Islands were glassed back during the Nanocreature War, after all.”

“I think I’ve seen some rumors on the Relaynet about the infection being on the Fog Islands, too,” Conrad remarked. “Wherever the hell those are.”

“There’s no infection on the Fog Islands… not as far as I know, at least,” Rebehka said. “You should take any ‘rumors’ you hear about those islands with a grain of salt.”

“Why?” Sky questioned.

“The Fog Islands have all kinds of rumors surrounding them,” Kaoné explained. “Things like navigation equipment supposedly shutting down near the islands, people getting lost and turned around in the fog, and such.”

“Sounds a lot like the Bermuda Triangle on Earth,” Pierce said. “So even Nimalians have a place that they make up stupid rumors about, huh?”

“I think there is actually something odd about the Fog Islands…” Rebehka mused. “They’re always fogged up, one hundred percent of the time. But…” She paused, her gaze falling away. A second later, she shook her head. “Well, I’ve never been there myself, so I suppose anything more I say would be just as speculative as all of the silly rumors.”

“And yet, you claim there’s no sign of the infection, there,” Phoenix pointed out.

“I’m not the only metallic infection researcher on Nimalia, you know. I don’t have to have been there personally to know its status.”

“And even if the infection was there, you’re all missing my original point!” Austin retorted. “Those islands are entire oceans away from where people actually live, right? And the tree cities in Relédiaka have clear separation between themselves and the forest floor; the people living there don’t even see the ground. So your average Nimalian never sees any sign of the infection. But here, there’s a massive clean-up operation just a couple kilometers away! I just don’t see how people can ignore that!”

“I actually quite agree with you, Earthian. The people here are too complacent.”

“…Major,” Rebehka coldly acknowledged Nil’kin as the Dra’kis approached, dressed in her full Chaos Knight armor, as she usually was. “What are you doing here?”

“I should ask you the same,” Nil’kin shot back. “I accompanied you here for the sake of inspecting the MICO! And then I hear that you went on to visit it without me… the nerve!”

“We aren’t here to facilitate your agenda. You can complete your ‘inspection’ on your own time.”

Nil’kin clicked her tongue. “So cold… anyways.” She turned to look at Austin, and then the rest of the Earthians. “I share in your incredulity at the complacency of my brethren,” she remarked. “The CSA places too much value on maintaining the status quo, on maintaining the illusion of peace. It’s what gives rise to the literal illusions they use to cover up the soiled districts of Orciid’kas, all to encourage the populace to ignore the ongoing issue of the Nanocreatures. It’s quite irresponsible.”

“Why don’t you tell us what you really think,” Conrad deadpanned.

“I can understand it, though,” Luke remarked. “It’s just human nature to want things to be ‘normal’.”

“Only the most basest of peoples resort to the excuse of their ‘nature’ to explain away their actions and tendencies,” Nil’kin countered.

“Weren’t you the one saying just a couple days ago that the ‘solution’ to the Nanocreatures was to bombard the planet from orbit?” Pierce challenged. “I’d say resorting to absolute violence is a pretty ‘base’ position to take!”

Nil’kin simply turned her nose up at Pierce. “Your words mean nothing to me, Earthian. None of you have the experience to understand where I’m coming from.”

“Amazing. She actually pulled out the ‘you’re too immature’ card,” Phoenix responded incredulously. “I agree that the Nanocreatures are a serious threat, but c’mon, there has to be a better solution than orbital fucking bombardment.”

“So you say, but even the Black Suns still use bombardment,” Austin pointed out. “They say it’s a last resort, but the fact that they still think it’s an option worth considering should say a lot!”

“Exactly,” Nil’kin agreed. “The Black Suns’ and CSA’s use of bombardment, as much as they might claim otherwise, is the surest sign of the dissonance in their minds — the dissonance of knowing that carpet bombing the planet is the only safe solution, yet not wanting to do it anyways.”

“W-well, calling it ‘carpet bombing’ is a little much…” Austin muttered.

“More importantly, Oriciid’kas was still home to people, even at the end of the Nanocreature War… right?” Twy said, “even if the planet fell to the Nanocreatures, the Nanocreatures couldn’t have corrupted literally everyone on the planet, right? So there would still have been people and their homes, here…”

“The Nanocreatures had a month. Who knows what they could have done in that time,” Nil’kin retorted. “As unfortunate for the ‘survivors’ as it may have been, it would’ve been safer for the galaxy in the long run to put them all to rest.”

“Alright— I’ve tried to stay out of this, but that’s a line too far,” Rebehka interjected. “Major, would you honestly suggest that we murder innocent people in cold blood just to resolve this problem?”

“Don’t think I’m making light of such a suggestion,” Nil’kin argued. “I understand how harsh of a stance I’m taking, and I do honestly feel for those who would be sacrificed by such a plan. But I also earnestly believe that this is the only way to rid the galaxy of the Nanocreatures for good!”

“Killing innocent people is never correct,” Mark asserted.

“And as an Earthian, your opinion is irrelevant,” Nil’kin declared.

“Enough!” Rebehka shouted, standing from her seat to glare directly at the Dra’kis. While ignoring the startled looks she drew from both the Earthians and the greater crowd in the lounge, she continued, “your attitude is entirely unwarranted, Major! There are other potential solutions to the metallic infection, and simply killing anyone who gets infected isn’t it!”

“And what do you know?” Nil’kin snapped, “you’re a Nimalian! The Nanocreature War barely affected you at all! It was the CSA who bore the brunt of the Nanocreatures’ attacks, it was the CSA who saw the horrors of widespread corruption first-hand! My people — the Dra’kis alone — lost billions of innocent lives to the Nanocreatures in the single month of the war! And if you double, no, triple the losses of the Dra’kis, then you still won’t reach the casualties that the Siions saw! And yet, you — a Nimalian — would tell us how we should do things? Nimalia did nothing but cower in your corner of the galaxy until the end of the war, when you very conveniently swooped in and claimed credit for saving everyone! And you Earthians — you didn’t even do anything at all!”

“Now, now…” Kaoné interjected, forcing an uneasy smile as she attempted to interpose herself between Nil’kin and Rebehka. “I understand that—“

“No, I won’t let that stand!” Rebehka declared, ignoring Kaoné as she addressed Nil’kin. “I understand that the CSA suffered grave losses from the war, but you can’t let that blind you! After all, if we had been killing everyone or everything that was infected from the very start, then we would have lost our only way to win the war!”

“If we had been killing everything that was infected from the very start, then the war never would’ve happened!” Nil’kin countered. “And that goes especially for your ‘friend’!”

“Siyuakén saved the entire fucking galaxy, you insensitive bitch,” Rebehka snapped. “I stand by what I did at the time!”

“Siyuakén directly led to the deaths of millions of people! Every damn time we argue about this, it’s always ‘Siyuakén this’, ‘Siyuakén that’, with you! All you care about is this one dead friend of yours and finding useless justifications for keeping her alive, despite all the harm she caused!”

“She was the only one who could’ve defeated Morcii. What she was forced to do under him was tragic, but stopping the war entirely prevented more deaths in the end!”

“That’s exactly my argument. A little tragedy now can save us from a larger tragedy later — but on our own terms!”

“That’s completely different! Your plan would involve consciously killing innocent people ourselves!”

“Hmph. And why should we believe your Siyuakén story, anyways? According to you, she had to join with some ‘Prior’ in order to stop Morcii. Why couldn’t anyone else have done that joining?”

“I already explained this to you. Engaging the Prior State would kill most Chaotics, but due to being corrupted, Siyuakén was—“

“Yes, yes, that definitely makes sense. And who told you all this?”

“Prior Arcán, but—“

“The very same Arcán that both you and the rest of Hero Machina have claimed was unreliable up until the end of the Nanocreature War?” Nil’kin challenged.

Rebehka faltered, lacking for a response, though her expression remained contorted in fury. “…I-It was…!”

“I should’ve known it’d be the Chaos Knight.”

“…Black Sun,” Nil’kin retorted with a sneer as Colonel Petro D’Tan approached the group, with two other Black Suns soldiers in tow. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“We received a report that some of our guests were causing a public disturbance…” Petro responded as he glanced between Rebehka and Nil’kin. “We came to see what was going on.”

Both women quickly snapped their attentions to the wider crowd around them — the crowd that was now giving them significantly wider leeway than they had before, while many of the other patrons of the public lounge stole furtive glances toward the travel group.

“O-oh…” Rebehka responded, her posture deflating and her face flushing red in embarrassment.

“Yet again, the people of the CSA show a preference for the status quo over what is right,” Nil’kin declared.

“Leave it to the Chaos Knights to be unnecessarily obstinate,” Petro retorted, only to then look over at Rebehka. “Either way… arguing in public like this is unbecoming of you.”

“I… …apologize,” Rebehka slowly replied, though the pained grimace on her face made it obvious she wanted to do anything but.

“And now you won’t even stand for your own claims. Pah,” Nil’kin snorted.

“That’s enough, Chaos Knight,” Petro demanded. “When it comes to public disturbances involving a member of a PMC in Holres’Ken — any PMC — the Black Suns have the authority to handle arrests. Don’t make me lock you up.”

Nil’kin’s haughty expression rapidly transformed into a furious scowl. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Let’s just… put this discussion aside, for the moment,” Kaoné suggested as she glanced between Rebehka and Nil’kin. “It seems pretty clear that, well… neither of you will be convincing the other of anything.”

“I might be able to help, there, actually,” Petro remarked.

“…What do you mean?” Rebehka questioned. “Is… is our original plan still on?”

“What plan?” Nil’kin glared at Rebehka in suspicion.

“It was one that I hoped to keep a secret for longer, but due to present circumstances, I don’t think that’ll be possible,” Petro explained. “It tracks back to the reason I requested the Deans come in the first place. Deans — I’ve resolved the issue with Sector 2, at least for the time being, but if we’re to act, we need to do so now.”

“…What’s going on?” Phoenix questioned in confusion. “Was there a different reason we all came here?”

“Should’ve known…” Pierce muttered.

“I still don’t see how you can possibly prove my assertions wrong,” Nil’kin declared. “And don’t use that single cured creature from Karania as an example! That solution isn’t scalable at all!”

“It’s far too early to determine that,” Petro said. “The Black Suns have technology to closely monitor how a Chaotic uses their ability, and if we use that while, say, a Materiatechnic cures a creature of the infection… we may yet learn valuable information that could be used to craft a scalable cure.”

“Is that really possible…?” Austin questioned.

“That’s what I intend to find out. Dean Densalin… are you prepared?”

“Ah…” Kaoné smiled uneasily as all eyes fell on her. “Well… I would’ve liked some more time to prepare… but if it really is urgent, then yes, I’m ready to try.”

Petro nodded. “Good. If anyone can handle this next step in developing a true cure, it’s you. Now…” He turned around and began walking off, while gesturing for the group to follow. “Let’s return to Holres’Ket. There, Chaos Knight, we’ll see that your solution of ‘absolute destruction’ is far from the only one available to us…”

---

2 Hours Later

“Back here again?”

“Well, it makes sense…” Twy replied, passing Austin a quick glance before turning back to the infected creature holding room in Holres’Ket, in which all of the Earthians, Kaoné, Rebehka, Nil’kin, and Petro now stood. “This is the subject of our visit, here, after all.”

“I’m still annoyed that we were used,” Pierce stated, an irritated scowl on his face. “Go figure there’s some ulterior motive for bringing us here…”

“We really did mean to use this visit as a teaching experience,” Rebehka responded. “But it seems that things didn’t unfold quite so cleanly…”

“I do apologize for the accelerated timetable,” Petro added as he began interfacing with a control pad in the back of the room. “I didn’t expect Sector 2 to get involved…”

“At least your Sector 2 understands the value in annihilating the Nanocreatures, rather than searching fruitlessly for a viable cure,” Nil’kin retorted.

“Well, all that aside… I think even just seeing the state of Oriciid’kas in person has been incredibly illuminating,” Mark said. “I would’ve liked to see more, but we can understand if the situation’s changed.”

“’We’?” Austin echoed incredulously.

“Even so, I think if we can walk out of this with another cured animal, then it will be a valuable experience for us all,” Petro remarked, and then glanced to the side as one of the holding cages extended out of the wall, holding the infected feline creature the group had inspected the previous day. He then gestured for everyone — particularly Kaoné — to approach. “This is what the locals know as a sita,” Petro explained. “Based on the parameters of your previous cure, Dean Densalin, I think this particular specimen is our best bet at another cure.”

“Looks like a cat,” Conrad remarked. “Only… with weirdly long legs.”

“It barely looks infected at all…” Sky commented as she observed the tiny rash along the sita’s side. It had grown from yesterday, but still was no longer than a centimeter or two.

“Yeah… curin’ this thing should be easy, right?” Spike questioned.

“The nanites don’t only infect the skin,” Kaoné explained. “In fact, the physical signs of infection on the skin are some of the last symptoms of the infection. It’s very likely that the nanites have already replaced pieces of the sita’s internal organs…” She trailed off and closed her eyes, as if in focus. A few seconds later, she nodded once and opened her eyes to look at Petro and Rebehka. “Yeah, it’s as I suspected. I’ll need to fix some of its internal organs and blood… but the extent of the infection isn’t yet far enough to be damning. I think this is possible.”

“You could tell all that just from thinking real hard, huh?” Conrad observed.

“This still seems futile,” Nil’kin declared. “Even if you cure this one creature of the infection — I simply don’t see how you could possibly scale that effort to manage an entire galaxy. You are, after all, only one woman.”

“That’s what we’re here to find out, Chaos Knight,” Petro countered. “Now, if you’ll all follow me, I’ll bring the sita to the operation room. I’ll get the consent and liability contracts to you all before we start.”

“Wait, what? Contracts?” Austin responded incredulously, “but why? We’re just watching, aren’t we? We aren’t gonna be in the same room, are we?”

“The facilities here weren’t designed with the idea of observing surgery, so any observers will necessarily have to be in the same room,” Petro replied.

“That might be a problem…” Kaoné said uneasily. “I know that I’ve cured a creature before, and that I’ve said that I think I may be able to cure this one, but the process is still incredibly difficult. I need absolute concentration to pull it off.”

“Which means we probably shouldn’t stick around to distract you,” Luke replied with a nod. “Understandable.”

“You’re really going to waste our time by dragging us here, and then not even letting us watch?” Pierce questioned irately. “You can’t be serious.”

“If you really do want to observe, then I guess we can work something out…” Kaoné responded doubtfully. “But… do you really want to watch? I can prevent any pain or discomfort to the subject with my powers, but the process of curing someone of the infection is still rather gruesome. It isn’t too unlike what you’d see in an actual open-body surgery.”

“…Oh. Right…”

“I think I’ll pass,” Conrad remarked, as Kestrel offered a silent nod in affirmation.

“Yeah… we’ll, um, wait outside?” Twy suggested.

“That may be for the best,” Rebehka said.

“I’m watching,” Nil’kin insisted. “If you claim that you can cure something of the infection, then I want to see it, myself. I won’t let a little blood and guts deter me!”

“As long as you don’t cause a disturbance.”

“Same to you, Dean.”

“…Right. Well…” Petro finally began continuing on again, opening a door in the back of the room as the cage containing the infected sita levitated through the air behind him. “Dean Densalin, as well as anyone who wants to observe, please follow me. Everyone else, please return to Holres’Ken for the time being. I expect this operation will take some time.”

“That’s our cue. Let’s get going,” Luke remarked as he began ushering the Earthians through the main exit, while Kaoné, Rebehka, and Nil’kin followed Petro deeper into the facility.

Once outside, Pierce turned around to glare at the building. “What a waste of time…”

“I can’t help but agree…” Phoenix remarked with a sigh. “I feel like we’ve been used. Like bringing us here was just a pretense for the Deans to travel to Oriciid’kas…”

“That seems a little too conspiratorial, doesn’t it?” Twy questioned, “the Deans already have a history of studying the metallic infection. I don’t think anyone would’ve batted an eye if they visited here on their own…”

“Maybe, but Kaoné’s also supposed to be teachin’ us, right?” Austin pointed out. “And it seems like she’s the only one who can cure the infection. So her bringing us here was probably just her tryin’ to do both things at once.”

“Given the kind of forces we’re dealing with here, I don’t think it’s an entirely unreasonable course of action,” Mark commented.

“And to be more cynical about this,” Luke remarked, “since we’re present for this whole thing, it likely means that SERRCom is going to get some of the data, too. That could be useful.”

Phoenix passed Luke an annoyed glance. “And why should we care about how SERRCom benefits?”

Luke stared at her, dumbfounded, before adopting a sheepish smile. “Ha… right. Sorry. Anyways—”

“Hey, isn’t that the guy from yesterday?” Sky interjected, while gesturing off to the side. Exiting from the research center was the Citan Black Suns officer from the previous day, accompanied by two other soldiers escorting a handful of levitating cages toward a nearby truck.

“Commander Jamis Hilay or some shit, right?” Pierce questioned.

“I thought they wanted to annihilate the animals,” Phoenix remarked. “Why are they carting them away, instead…?”

“Yeah… and was I the only one who thought that their timing yesterday was a little suspicious?” Austin added.

“I think that’s just typical cross-Sector tensions in the Black Suns,” Luke replied. “But I suppose it couldn’t hurt to ask. Excuse me!” He raised his voice to address the Commander. “Commander Hilay, right?”

“That’s me, yes,” Hilay replied, though he never once looked over at Luke as he interacted with an unseen AR environment, seemingly keeping some kind of notes on the animals that the other soldiers were loading onto the truck.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Luke continued, “where are you taking these animals?”

“That’s Black Suns confidential, sir.”

“…Right. You said yesterday that you wanted to ‘annihilate’ them, at least. I’m assuming this has something to do with that?”

For the first time since the beginning of the interaction, Hilay passed Luke a quick look. “…It does,” the Commander eventually admitted. “We’re transporting the specimens to somewhere where they can be properly annihilated. We don’t have the facilities or Chaotics to do so in Holres’Ket.”

“You sure?” Phoenix responded incredulously as she looked down the block, at the building that had been set aflame the previous day. Now, it was completely gone, replaced instead by a charred black lot of land. “There seem to be Pyrotechnics here who are plenty capable.”

Hilay snorted in derision as he returned to handling his AR environment. “Sector 1 can’t be trusted to carry out Sector 2’s orders, especially when our orders involve overriding Sector 1’s own desires.”

“But… you’re all part of the same org, aren’t you?” Sky questioned.

The Commander glanced back at Sky, and then shook his head, as if in annoyance. “…You Earthians should scurry back to Holres’Ken, now,” he remarked, turning his back on the group as his soldiers loaded the final cage onto the truck. Without another word, the Commander climbed into the front of the truck, starting up the vehicle and driving off down the dilapidated street.

“What a fucking asshole,” Pierce declared.

“Yeah, that was the meanest fucking ‘you Earthians’ I’ve ever heard!” Sky exclaimed. “What the hell!”

“It is what it is…” Spike responded with a resigned shrug.

“I’m more concerned about the apparent internal conflict within the Black Suns, personally,” Twy remarked. “They’re one of the biggest PMCs, right? That kind of conflict doesn’t seem like a good thing…”

“That’s just political bullshit. It has nothing to do with us,” Conrad replied dismissively. He then loudly yawned. “…Anyways. We heading back?”

“We should, yes…” Luke said, his gaze lingering on the Black Suns truck as it grew smaller with distance. Eventually, he ripped his attention from the truck to flash a smile at the students and begin walking down the street. “Alright, everyone, let’s get out of here…”