Valiant: Tales From The Drift

[Tails #6: Dandelion Dailies]

Log Date: 9/6/12763

Data Sources: Jazel Jaskolka; Lysanne Arrignis

Event Log: Lysanne Arrignis

Dandelion Drift: Lab 1

9:12pm LST

“Ms. Arrignis?”

My eyes snap open, and I inhale a sharp breath, jerking my head up. For a moment, everything is a blur; it’s just smeary bright lights and the touch of a hand on my shoulder. After a few seconds of blinking, things start to come into focus; I’m sitting at my worktable in the lab, where it looks like I fell asleep while I was reading a research paper about endangered tree rats with poisonous fur.

“Mmmmph.” I groan, rubbing my eyes. “Jeez. How long have I been sleeping.”

“Forty-three minutes.” Dandy says, taking her hand off my shoulder. “You really ought to go to bed, Ms. Arrignis. Your conference call with CURSE is in nine hours, and you should be well rested for it.”

“Yeah, I know.” I sigh, pushing my chair back from the table. “Where’s the morphox?”

Dandy folds her arms. “Ms. Arrignis—”

“Dandy.”

“Ms. Arrignis!”

“Dandy.”

“Do you realize you have asked me some variation of that question a sum total of nine hundred and seventy-three times over the last two weeks?”

I chop one hand against the palm of the other, emphasizing my words as I answer. “She is a dangerous, ancient, powerful predator that essentially has free roam of the ship—”

Dandy reaches out, taking the back of my chair and turning it so I’m facing her. “Ms. Arrignis. It has been two weeks since the incident with the Vaunted. In that time, the creature has done little more than wander around, explore the ship, and spend time in the biosphere. She has brought no harm to the crew, indicating that Jazel’s agreement with her remains in force, and though she is prone to minor delinquency, she has done nothing in the way of truly disruptive behavior. It is time you stopped obsessing over this and apply your full attention to more pressing issues.”

“But.” I protest weakly. “She’s…”

“Under control.” Dandy finishes for me. “And in the event that that changes, we have Milor onboard to help us with it.”

“But… but…” I insist.

“Yes. There is still the overarching matter of how we will feed her, and Jazel not being entirely forthright with us.” Dandy acknowledges. “But these are issues that will not be solved in a day, and constantly asking for the morphox’s location aboard the Drift contributes nothing positive to that issue. It is time you started focusing on other things.” She unfolds her arms, offering a hand out to me. “Such as getting a full cycle of rest before your conference call tomorrow.”

I sigh, giving in and taking Dandy’s hand, allowing her to help me up. “It just… it bothers me, Dandy. It’s like this looming problem that I just can’t get out of my head, and I just want it to be fixed so I can stop worrying about it.”

“I understand.” Dandy says, turning off my worktable and the article I’d fallen asleep reading. “It is a problem that remains in the background of my priority queue as well. Had I the power to solve it, then I would. But I must accept that I do not have the power to resolve it by any immediate action, and that my time is better spent on fixing other problems. For your own good, you must accept the same for yourself.”

“Yeah… I guess.” I concede, although reluctantly. I take look around the lab, running a hand through my messy hair, and wishing there was a fix somewhere in here. A wand I could wave to make the problem go away.

“Ms. Arrignis.” Dandy says, motioning to the doorway with a reminding look.

“Alright. Alright. I get it, Dandy. I’ll go get some rest.” Turning that way, I head for the door, the lights dimming as I go, and Dandy falls in step to exit behind me.

Event Log: Lysanne Arrignis

Dandelion Drift: Lysanne’s Quarters

9:55pm LST

In the shower, I stand beneath the stream of water, and let the heat sink into my skin as I try to let go of the worries that have stayed with me for the last two weeks.

But I just can’t. It sits on me, nags at me, whispers and pokes at the edge of my mind. I feel like my paranoia is justified - the morphox is a powerful creature, and at the end of the day she’s an animal, one that hasn’t eaten in a long time. Hunger is a powerful motivator; as a Preserver, I know that better than most. And the thing is that Jazel’s also a Preserver, so he knows it too. He knows the risks in keeping a hungry predator close to you, and he should’ve known better than to make that pact.

Reaching up, I run my hands over my face and through my hair. I know, from a certain perspective, that I’m being unreasonable. I know that Jazel made the pact to protect the rest of us, and I know that deep down inside, I’m just desperately craving a reason to stuff the morphox into an airlock and eject her into the void of space. I want to believe that she’s the monster I thought she was for months.

But then I remember the way she looked at Jazel after he got shot. As if he was her bridge to a different kind of existence, and she was watching it slip away before her eyes. The way she’d carried him back to the medbay, cradling him like she was afraid she’d hurt him if she held him too firmly.

I hate admitting it, but she’s a person like us. If only just barely, blurring the line between animal and person.

Spitting out some water, I reach out and turn off the shower spray. I want to pin all my anger on her, because I know she’s dangerous, and if I’m being completely honest, I am a little scared of her. But being dangerous is just part of what she is, part of her nature. It’s not something that you can change, just like you can’t tell a bird to stop flying or a fish to stop swimming or a wildcat to stop hunting. There are some traits and characteristics that are just part of what we are.

Flicking on the dry cycle, I wait a couple minutes, turning this way and that in the warm air gusting out the vents, then towel off the rest. Slipping into my nightclothes, I flump down on my bed, letting out a long, gusty sigh as I stare at the clock. Eight hours until my conference call with CURSE.

Rolling over and pulling my covers with me, I close my eyes and try to go to sleep.

Event Log: Lysanne Arrignis

Dandelion Drift: Conference Room

9/7/12763 6:19am SGT

“…Jazel has continued to improve after his visit to the Kasvei hospital, and the doctor anticipates he will make a full physical recovery. The results are pending on some of his… other afflictions, but psychologically, he seems to be improving and is gradually returning to his old self.” I explain from my chair in the conference room. Administrator Tenji and Deputy Administrator Nazka are on big display screens.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Tenji says, lacing her fingers together. “The well-being of our operatives is one of our higher priorities; it’s good to hear he’s on the road to recovery.”

I feel a smarmy remark well up within me, and I manage to convert it into something more polite by the time it leaves my mouth. “Well, yes, but… it did take you about two weeks to get back to us, and we had tried to contact you immediately after our departure from Vissengard, and several times after. Nobody in supervision was answering.”

“We did not mean to leave you hanging.” Nazka answers, leaning forward on his own screen now. “If you’ve paid attention to the news, you may’ve seen that we’ve been a little busy lately. Songbird has returned, and he has not done so quietly. He’s been involved in at least two attacks so far, one on Shinobe Kibe and another in the Valcorria system.”

“Yeah, I… I saw that.” I say quietly. “Have the Peacekeepers caught him yet?”

“They haven’t. He’s not acting alone; it’s suspected that he has the assistance of other rogue Challengers and a privately-paid mercforce.” Nazka says. “Needless to say, this… matter has suddenly displaced several other items on our priority queue. Yourselves included.”

“That is not to say that what you are doing is not important.” Tenji adds gently.

“Or that it has escaped our attention.” Nazka says. “Had we not been distracted by the return of Songbird, then the complaint that the Vaunted made about the encounter in Vissengard would’ve reached our desks much sooner.”

I sit up a little straighter. “We did try to contact you. Several times.”

“We know.” Tenji says, reaching up to adjust her glasses. “From what I gather, the situation is complicated, but you had the morphox in your possession, and the Vaunted were trying to confiscate it from you?”

“Well basically, yeah, but we could’ve handled it.” I start quickly. “The Vaunted had no right to try and take her from us when we had her locked in for resettlement—”

“From the complaint they made, it sounds like the creature was still in your possession when you left the system.” Tenji cuts in. “Is that still the case?”

I blink at the unexpected question. “Well… yeah.”

“So you’ve had her for the last two weeks, and she’s not killed any of you?”

I glance aside at Dandy, who’s been sitting silent on the other side of the table during the call. Dandy stares at me, then looks to the screen. “The creature presents no current threat to the occupants of this vessel. While she is mischievous and curious at times, by and large she has been harmless.” Dandy answers.

Tenji nods thoughtfully, steepling her fingers in front of her. “I see. And Mr. Jaskolka, I presume, is still working on… what was it? An alternate food source for her, because she eats souls?”

“Uh. Yeah, he is, but.” I shake my head and hold up a hand. “Hold on a moment. You’re not mad at us? I thought you’d be mad at us because of the incident with the Vaunted.”

“We are.” Nazka answers flatly. “A diplomatic row with galactic law enforcement is the last thing we need right now.”

“I do agree it was suboptimal.” Tenji concurs. “But with recent events, certain prerogatives have taken precedence. If Songbird is back, and he’s bringing what remains of the Challengers with him, then we need all the help we can get to protect the galaxy from them. I seem to recall that in our last conference call, you stated something to the effect of this creature being a ‘walking artillery cannon’, correct? That she singlehandedly laid siege to the Helios settlement.”

“I— I did, b-but I admit I was being somewhat facetious.” I stutter. I can sense what direction is going in, but I’m having trouble wrapping my head around it. “I mean, she is powerful, but—”

“You stated also that Mr. Jaskolka was trying to find a way to tame or otherwise resocialize the creature.” Nazka points out. “Now that she is aboard the Drift, I assume he has resumed those efforts now that he has recovered?”

“I— I mean, not really, she’s kinda civilized already, just a little weird.” I say, stumbling over my words. “Look, I know what you’re thinking, and I get it. I know Songbird’s dangerous; I saw the news reports when I was twelve, and the Challengers were getting shut down and all that stuff. So I get it. I know that you need powerful operatives to stand against them if the Challengers come back. But the morphox, she’s not… she’s not Peacekeeper material. I know you want to believe she can fight those fights for you, but she won’t.”

“And why is that?” Nazka demands, arching a brow.

“Well, because…” I say, struggling with how to explain it.

“She does not take orders.” Dandy speaks up at this point. I look at her, as do Tenji and Nazka, and Dandy goes on. “She is not like most other humanoids. She has no nationality, belongs to no organization or group, and probably never has. She can talk like humanoids, interact with them, but she is very much a wild creature, with no loyalty to anyone but those who provide her what she wants. She does not listen to either myself or Ms. Arrignis; we have no control over her.”

“So you brought a creature onto your ship that you cannot control?” Nazka asks, with disapproval and accusation heavily implied in the question.

“No, Preservers are not that stupid.” Tenji says thoughtfully, before either myself or Dandy can answer. “Someone on that ship can exert a modicum of control over that creature. The Vaunted captain that filed that report even said as much, that the creature would’ve killed her if one of the crew hadn’t stepped in. If neither of you can control her, then by process of elimination, the captain was referring to Mr. Jaskolka.”

“He’s the one that’s researching the alternate food source for the creature.” Nazka points out. “He’s the only one providing something of tangible value to her, so he must be able to exert some influence over her.”

“Look, you two need to stop.” I interrupt before they can go on. “I don’t know how else to put this except to say it right to your faces: this creature is not a weapon. We can barely control her. She’s not interested in fighting other people’s wars. She’s been stuck on some frontier world for the last four hundred years; she doesn’t know anything about Challengers or astropolitics and she probably couldn’t name a single major galactic nation. And I’m not saying all of this to protect her; I’m saying it to protect you. Because if you try to get her to fight your battles for you, I guarantee you, she will turn on you.”

Both Tenji and Nazka are silent for a bit as they process that. At length, Nazka folds his hands together, giving us an austere stare. “So if you cannot control this creature, and it cannot contribute to the safety of the galaxy, then why did you bring it aboard your ship in the first place?”

“Well, for her sake and the sake of everyone on Vissengard.” I retort. “To keep her from preying on everyone on Vissengard, and to try to find a place to resettle her, or a way to feed her that didn’t involve eating souls. We sure as hell didn’t do it because we thought she’d be useful, or that it would be easy. We did it because it was the right thing to do.”

Tenji presses a knuckle to her lips. “…I think I see what you’re saying, Ms. Arrignis.”

That surprises me, and I lean back in my chair a little. “You do?”

“Well, yes. All it requires is a little bit of empathy.” she replies. “This creature has not seen civilization or left her planet in four centuries, and upon leaving it, we would immediately ask her to step into a gathering storm she knows nothing about. Of course she would not take well to that; I doubt anyone would.”

“Thank you.” I say, letting out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you understand that.”

“That being said, it does not negate our need for capable new Peacekeepers.” Tenji goes on. “So instead of throwing her into it right away, perhaps we can instead ease her into it. Let’s educate her on the issues. Inform her on the topic. Explain to her why this potential conflict is important, and explain to her how she could make a difference in it.”

I breathe back in that sigh of relief I just exhaled. “That’s… that’s gonna be a tall order, I think.” I say, using a thumb to rub at my brow. “I don’t… really see her as the type to sit still for a history lesson, much less listen to a lecture on astropolitics.”

“It doesn’t have to be boring.” Tenji says with a smile. “Make it fun. Tell her about the exciting bits. Have her read the Challenger comics — the ones that accurately tell the story of the program’s downfall. There’s even an anime out now — Nazka, what’s it called? I can never remember the title, it’s a big long one.”

Nazka scowls. “Please don’t make me do this, Administrator.”

“I can’t remember it off the top of my head. Pretty please?”

With a resigned sigh, Nazka brings up a screen on his desk and begins typing up a search on the web. “That show you’re referring to is called Courageous: Tales From the Challenger Initiative.”

“It’s very well-animated. New episodes every Saturday morning.” Tenji goes on as Nazka rolls his eyes. “It covers the last years of the Challenger program; I think the current arc is leading up to the Songbird Incident as the season finale, and this will probably be the last season. All the other seasons are available on most other streaming services.”

“It bears mentioning that the series is only loosely based on historical events, with creative license taken in several areas.” Nazka mutters.

Tenji grins. “And how would you know that, Nazka? I thought you weren’t a fan.”

“I’ve watched it before. For… research purposes.” Nazka answers in an aloof tone. “The point that the Administrator is trying to make, I believe, is that a gentle touch can be applied here, rather than trying to rush the creature into helping us against Songbird and the Challengers. That education, of course, will be your responsibility, since the creature is in your possession.”

“Look, I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but even if we explained the issue to her, that probably won’t matter to her as much as getting an alternate food source.” I explain. “That’s what really matters to her right now. It’s the only reason she hasn’t killed us; it’s because she believes Jazel might be able to deliver on his promise.”

Tenji raises an eyebrow. “Then in that case… let her know that if she will stand with CURSE against Songbird and the Challengers, then we will have a team in our research division put effort into helping find that alternative for her. I think that will be mutually beneficial for both sides — we receive the support we need against Songbird, and in return, we will help her find the path to a less predatory existence. I think everyone would be happy with that compromise, no?”

I can’t really argue against that. “I’ll… talk with Jazel and see what we can do. I think it may be a little more complicated than that, but we can always try.”

“Of course. Such things are rarely so simple.” Nazka agrees. “If the creature has other demands or requests, let us know, and we will see if we can accommodate them.”

“And when you’re done with your current slate of assignments, please bring her to the CURSE HQ.” Tenji adds. “We would like to meet her, just the same as we met you and Mr. Jaskolka in person when you received your commission.”

I nod quietly. “I’ll put it on the calendar.”

“Excellent. We’ll look forward to it.” Tenji says, straightening up a little. “If that’s all, we’ll go ahead and close matters for now. We have another conference call coming up shortly.”

“Of course. You have a good day, Administrator. Deputy Administrator.” I say. Shortly after saying their own farewells, the feeds from both screens go dark as the call ends. Taking a deep breath, I look at Dandy.

“You appear troubled, Ms. Arrignis.” she observes.

“Yeah.” I say softly. “Just a little.”

Event Log: Jazel Jaskolka

Dandelion Drift: Lab 2

10:30am LST

Running my hands through my hair, I take a deep breath, rub my eyes, and flick a finger against the screen hovering over my desk, swiping away the document I’d been reading.

I’ve been trawling digital libraries for the last week or so, looking for anything that would provide answers to my predicament. Surprisingly, there isn’t as much research as I’d expected there to be on the matter of souls. Though there were plenty of creatures that enjoyed eating them, there weren’t a lot of research mages that were willing to experiment on souls. Apparently trifling with one of the core aspects of life itself is a taboo across the galaxy; a lot of the papers I’ve skimmed so far are mainly oriented towards diagnosing maladies of the soul and ameliorating damage to it. I didn’t get a lot of results back when I searched for papers or research on soul substitutes, and the few results I did get went along the lines of “this isn’t possible” or “morality prevents us from delving deeper into this topic”.

It doesn’t mean the answers aren’t out there, but I’m starting to realize that those that did have the answers probably didn’t send them to a research journal for peer review and publishing, likely to avoid getting ostracized from their given community.

Tapping my fingers on the table, I rest my chin on my hand and think about where to go from here. Kayenta will need to feed eventually; she’s already two centuries past a morphox’s average lifespan, and without a soul to feed on, she’ll die. It’s part of her biology, and I can’t change her biology. So I have to work around her diet.

“What’s that?” someone asks behind me. I turn around to answer, expecting to see Lysanne standing behind me.

I’m not prepared to end up nose to nose with a curious Kayenta.

“Ggeh!” I scramble backwards, my spine pressing against the edge of the worktable. She blinks those august eyes at me, as if to ask what I’m doing. “Gah! How did you get in here? I didn’t hear the door open!”

“I couldn’t find the door. I ghosted through the wall.” she answers, her eyes going back to the screen hovering above my desk. “What is this square? You spend a lot of time staring at it.”

I scoot my chair a little to the side and away from her, looking at the screen. “…that’s a screen. It’s used to display information.”

“Oh. So it’s like a scrying pool, or a crystal ball?” she asks, reaching out to poke at it.

“Uhm.” I say, trying to get my head around the fact that she doesn’t know what a screen is. “Yes. Kind of like that. It allows us to read books in faraway libraries, or see what’s happening on other worlds.”

“You have a lot of them around this vessel.” she says, waving her fingers through the screen and watching how it ripples. “I have seen your friends using them to watch people. These people do not mind that you are watching them?”

“Well, uhm. Some of those people know that they’re being watched, and some of them don’t.” I explain. “The ones that know that they’re being watched as usually the news. The ones that don’t are usually the entertainment shows. I mean, technically, everyone knows they’re being watched, but on the shows they’re usually playing characters in a fictional setting that don’t know they’re being watched. Though I suppose that people on reality shows know that they’re being watched too, that’s why they behave that way…”

“Your ‘screens’ are confusing.” she says, tugging at the midriff-baring shirt she’s wearing today. “Do they show you real things or fake things?”

“Both.” I say, surreptitiously pushing my chair back a little more.

She notices and starts following me. “Do they show you the answers? For how to find something that will sate my hunger?”

I avoid eye contact, focusing on a point just over her shoulder as I keep backpedaling in my chair, trying to keep at least two feet between me and her. “Well, not yet. I’ve been searching a lot of those faraway libraries I told you about, but there’s a lot to read. It’s going to take…” The back of my chair bumps up against the wall, and my voice drops into a whisper as Kayenta leans in, her vulpine ears tilted forward to pick up my voice. “…going to take a while…”

“You aren’t lying to me, are you?” she asks quietly, her breath ghosting over my cheek as she leans in closer, reaching in to trace a thumb over my lips. “No tricks, little feast. Otherwise the pact is broken and your friends are no longer safe from me.”

“Yes. Of course.” I agree quickly. “But I did tell you it would take a while to find a solution. Years, even.”

“You did. And you agreed to sustain me until you found the answer.” she replies, her august eyes finding mine. “I’m getting hungry, little feast.”

“N-noted.” I stutter, my back pressing against my chair. “Do you n-need to feed right now?”

“I can wait. Another month or so.” she says, pulling her thumb off my lips. “I will take the portion I am due then.” Straightening up, she steps back and takes a second look around the lab. “I see you stole some of the spirit blooms from my world.”

I follow her gaze to where I have potted samples of the spirit blooms sitting in a small terrarium on a desk. “I wanted to see if I could cultivate them and study them further. They just won’t take, though. I’ve replicated the light cycle, the temperature, the humidity, the soil conditions that you would find on Vissengard, but all of the samples are dying.”

“Have you fed them?” she asks.

“Yeah, I put a nutrient mix in; I even tried an ambient energy bleed enchantment, just in case they feed off magic. Nothing’s working.” I explain.

“You haven’t fed them.” she concludes.

“But I’ve given them plenty of light, water, and good soil—” I start to protest.

“Spirit blooms need more than light and water.” she interrupts me. Turning back to me, she leans down and tucks a hand under my chin, tilting my head back and planting her mouth on mine without warning. I let out an alarmed noise, but she’s already inhaling, pulling the air out of my lungs, and I can feel a tiny bit of my soul go with it.

Then she pulls away, leaving me to hunch forward and clutch at my chest. Bracing on the arm of my chair with my free hand, I glance up, my eyes watering. Reaching up, she touches her fingers to her mouth, pulling a wisp of green light from her mouth and rolling it into a ball between her fingers, then turns and heads to the terrarium. Opening the lid, she squishes the ball and starts crumbling it over the spirit blooms, sprinkling it across the specimens as a sparkly green dust. I hold my breath as the blooms start to lift and fill out, losing their wilting gloominess.

“Could you warn me next time?” I rasp, taking a deep breath to get back some of the air she stole from me.

She looks over her shoulder at me, and after a moment to consider the request, her lips curl up the corners. Playful, as if she was enjoying herself. “No.” she says simply, a mild denial that invites no discussion. Closing the lid on the terrarium, she licks the last traces of my soul off her fingers. “Spirit blooms thrive on emotions and memories, the tinder of the soul’s fire.”

“You and the flowers survive off the same thing.” I say slowly, sitting up.

“Normally I wouldn’t share my sacrifices, but the spirit blooms have great power.” she says, running a finger along the terrarium’s edge. “In a forest full of them, I am unstoppable.”

“Then why would you leave?” I ask, carefully pushing out of my chair and guiding it back to my worktable.

“I was hungry, and I found a feast.” she answers, her eyes following me back to the worktable. “I have explained all of this to you already. Your soul could sustain me for untold eras. Imagine what it could’ve done for my forest.”

“Right.” I say, bumping my knuckles together and feeling awkward, not knowing what to say to that or where to take the conversation from here. “Question, why did you mark me?”

She tilts her head at me. Curious, a question asked without words, so I reach up and run a fingers over the scars on one side of my face. “You know… these.”

At that, she turns away, examining her nails. “I needed to mark my kill so others wouldn’t try to claim it. Also so I could track you.”

“Wait, you can use these marks to track me?” I demand.

“You had a habit of escaping. I wanted to make sure I could find you if you got away again.” she says, picking up another one of my potted flora samples and looking it over. “But then you cut some of my hair and started tracking me. I was hunting you, but then you started hunting me. We are not so different.”

I idle my way over to the terrarium, taking care not to move too suddenly. “Except that I don’t make a habit of snacking on other people’s souls.” I point out, bending down to study the revitalized spirit blooms.

“Perhaps not.” she says, setting the plant back down. “But you are hungry, like me.”

“I am?” I ask, looking at her over the top of the terrarium. Granted, I do get hungry at mealtimes like a normal person, but I don’t think she’s referring to that kind of hunger.

“You’re hungry for a mate. You’re a young man. They’re always hungry for mates.” she says, smirking as she turns away from me. “I can taste it in your soul. The itch, the instinct that hasn’t been quelled yet.”

I feel heat rise to my face, and I focus down on the terrarium, fiddling with the latches and closing them tight. “Well yes, that is an ingrained biological impulse which is common to the youth of many species. I am not unique in that regard.”

Her smug expression doesn’t go away as she circles around to pass behind me, her silver tails brushing against the back of my legs as she does so. “That wasn’t all I tasted.” she murmurs close to the side of my head. “You weren’t hungry for one of your own kind. You were hungry for me specifically.”

It’s weird, feeling chills run up my spine at the same time my face is trying to spontaneously combust. But that’s about how I feel right now as I hunch up my shoulders, keenly aware of her presence right behind me, her sly sidelong look. “Ah heh. Really?” I laugh nervously, my fingers clutching at the terrarium’s latches as I fumble for something to fidget with. “I think you’re just imagining it.”

“Mmm.” is her only response, soft and unconvinced and smug all at once.

A loud coughing over by the door snaps the tension in the room like a stale cracker, both of looking over to see Lysanne standing in the doorway, arms folded and a powerful glare leveled at us. Well, mostly at Kayenta. “Sorry. I would’ve knocked, but I didn’t know you had company.”

I narrow my eyes at Lysanne. I know she knew damn well that Kayenta was in here, and probably interrupted on purpose. “It’s fine. Did you need something?”

“Yeah. We need to do the dailies for the biosphere, and now that you’re all healed up, you can start hauling your share of the chores again.” Lysanne says, her eyes flicking between me and Kayenta. “You wanna come shovel protein sludge, Silvertail? The more, the merrier.”

Kayenta curls her lip at one side of her mouth, flashing her teeth in a silent snarl.

“Your loss.” Lysanne shrugs, then looks at me. “Let’s roll, Jazel. Sooner we get this done, the sooner you can go back to researching soul substitutes for your pet project.”

I glance at Kayenta, then take my hands off the terrarium and head for Lysanne. “Fine. What biomes do we need to hit first?”

“We’ll start with the ocean biome, then move onto the wetlands after that.” she says, turning and stepping out into the hall. “We can work our way up from there, ending in the temperate biome…”

As Lysanne keeps listing off our chores, I give a last glance over my shoulder as I leave the lab. Kayenta flashes me a parting smile, still sly and knowing, and another shiver runs up my back as I quicken my pace to catch up with Lysanne.

Event Log: Lysanne Arrignis

Dandelion Drift: Wetlands Biome

11:46am LST

“Alright, spit it out.” I say, straightening up and capping a vial of swamp water.

It takes a moment for Jazel to realize I’m talking to him, and he looks up from the box of long-tongued toads that he’s releasing. “What?” he says.

“You’re sulking.” I say, setting the vial on the floating tray beside me, then leaning on the long-handled net in my other hand. We’re both in waders, slogging through the knee-deeps in the wetlands biome. Irregular little islands of marsh reeds extend for as far as the eye can see in most directions. “What’s going on. Was it because I interrupted quality time with your pet project?”

“I’m not sulking.” he denies, releasing another toad back into the water. “Just have a lot on my mind right now.”

“Mhmm. Sure.” I say, not convinced. “You know she’s four centuries out of your league right?”

“I’m more interested in finding solutions for her diet, not her dating preferences.” he says, gently releasing another toad back into the water while muttering under his breath. “Besides, she might be four hundred, but she doesn’t look a day over twenty-five.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“No, no, I think I definitely heard something.” I say, leaning forward a little further on the net. “Go on, what was that?”

Jazel gives me a flat glare, taking the box of toads and dumping all of them. “Whoops. Looks like the population count for the long-tongued toads is going to be skewed this week.”

I scowl. “That’s real mature, Jazel.”

“Well, so is you harassing me.” he says, snapping the lid shut on the box. “I don’t know why you’re giving me such a hard time for trying to help her.”

“Because you don’t seem to realize that any sort of relationship with her is unsustainable.” I say, taking the net and starting to drag it through the water for swamp jellies. “Let’s carry this to its illogical conclusion, Jazel. Let’s say, for some reason, that she is interested in you for reasons other than providing her with an alternate food source. And that, by some long shot, you find an alternative for her diet. We age. She doesn’t. What’s going to happen in ten, twenty, thirty years from now when she still doesn’t look a day over twenty-five and you’re starting to look like a middle-aged man? Think it’s gonna be the same relationship then as it would be now?”

Jazel doesn’t answer right away, setting aside the box on the hovercart that holds all of our trawling tools. Wading over to one of the reed islands, he sits down on the marshy ground with a wet squelch as he looks away. “I don’t run around thinking three decades into the future, Lysanne. Can’t you just let me have this, enjoy this for now? I went through a lot to get to this point, and I’ve got bigger problems right now. Like figuring out how to feed her.”

I stop dragging the water, sighing. “Look, Jazel, I’m just. Worried, okay? I get it; I know you’ve put a lot of effort into this. I know you worked hard for this and went through a lot to get to this point and you’ve taken risks to protect the rest of us. You’ve already invested a lot, without knowing if it’ll pay off in the end, and I don’t want you to keep investing more if it’s not going to work out in the end. Because I know that’ll hurt you.”

He looks at me. “So, what? Because it might fail, I shouldn’t even bother trying in the first place? Who gets anywhere with a mindset like that?”

“I’m not saying that you shouldn’t ever try anything that has a chance of failure.” I explain carefully. “I’m saying that it’s wiser not to try things that have a high failure threshold. Calculated risks. Just because something has a small chance of success doesn’t mean you should try it, and just because something has something has a small chance of failure doesn’t mean you should avoid it. The smart thing to do is find something in between those two extremes, making nuanced, balanced decisions. And if it doesn’t work, that’s okay, but at least you knew you were taking a calculated risk, instead of setting yourself up for failure.”

“And you think me being interested in her is setting myself up for failure.” he surmises.

“Yeah.” I say bluntly. “You’re trying to figure out a vegan diet for a creature that lives off souls. And if you succeed in that, you’re hoping that she’ll be interested in a relationship with you. And even if you somehow succeed on the first two, you’ve got to figure out the long-term. Your chances are minuscule, Jazel. That’s just the hard truth.”

He nods, resting his forearms on his knees. “…yeah. I know.”

I can tell, by the way he says it, that even if he knows his chances are horrible, he’s going to try anyway. He’s just not saying it out loud because he doesn’t want to keep arguing with me. Sighing, I twist the net in the swamp muck as I look around, searching for where to take the conversation from here. “…she might not even be with us for very long, anyway. CURSE is interested in her, and they want us to bring her by the HQ eventually.”

He looks up. “What?”

“It came up in the conference call yesterday.” I say, puffing one of my bangs out of my face. “I thought I was gonna get chewed up and spit back out because of the whole thing with the Vaunted, but they barely even mentioned it. They were more interested in the morphox. They know she’s powerful, and I think they want to train her to be a Peacekeeper.”

“They… what?” he repeats, dumbfounded. “Why?”

“Because of Songbird.” I answer, swiping the net through the water a few times to clean the mud off it. “I know you saw that on the news. You can’t have missed it; even you’re not that clueless.”

“Songbird… oh, the Challenger?” he says, starting to take his gloves off. “I remember seeing something about that on my newsfeed a while ago, but I just thought it was just the anniversary of the Songbird Incident thing.”

“It’s more than that.” I say, shaking the water off the net and starting to collapse the handle. “He’s back, and CURSE thinks he’s bringing other Challengers with him. Word has it that he bombed a starport on Shinobe Kibe, and he attacked the Challenger Museum on Valcorria.”

Jazel makes a face. “Why would he attack the Challenger Museum? Didn’t CURSE try to get that shut down after Valcorria first opened it?”

“I don’t know. It’s hard to tell what’s real news nowadays.” I say, tossing him the collapsed net. “But CURSE is worried, and with good reason. I guess they’re not sure if their current Peacekeeper force can stand up to someone as powerful as Songbird, so they’re probably going to ramp up recruiting and training for elite Peacekeepers. The morphox is a potential candidate on their list.”

“Seriously?” Jazel asks in disbelief, putting the net on the hovercart. “She barely knows how the modern world works. She compared our holoscreens to scrying pools and crystal balls, and I guarantee you she’s never stepped foot in a city before.”

“Yeah. You’re not the only one that likes chasing impossible things. CURSE gets some pretty crazy ideas sometimes, but they actually have the money, infrastructure, and resources to pull them off.” I say, rolling my eyes as I start to haul the sample tray over to the hovercart.

“Well, they can’t do that. She’s not some weapon they can just chuck at their problems.” Jazel says, pushing to his feet. “We can take her to HQ so they can get a look at her, but we’re not going to force her to fight for something she probably doesn’t even care about.”

“The Administrator said we should bring her up to speed on the issues and the history of the Challengers.” I say, taking the handle of the hovercart and starting to pull it back the way we came. Jazel gets on the back end, and starts pushing it from behind. “That way she actually understands what the fight’s about and why it’s important. Said we could use the comics and the anime to educate her if history lessons would be too boring for her.”

“Well, that’s great, but even then, I don’t think she’s going to care.” Jazel says as we follow the winding waterways of the wetlands. “She won’t be interested in big picture stuff until her diet’s taken care of, and that’s gonna take a long time.”

“Yeah, CURSE knows about that too.” I reply. “They said that if the morphox becomes a Peacekeeper, they’ll put a research team towards researching a substitute for the souls she feeds on.”

“An… an entire team?” he repeats, again in disbelief.

“That’s right.” I confirm. “CURSE isn’t stupid. Everybody wants something, and if you have something they want, they know how to make a convincing offer in return. That’s why I said she might not be with us for long, because I’m pretty sure they’re going to make her that offer when we visit the HQ. And I think there’s a pretty high likelihood that she’s gonna take it.”

Jazel doesn’t answer right away. “I suppose we’ll see.” he says, sounding subdued.

“Suppose we will.” I agree quietly.

He doesn’t reply to that, and we slog the rest of the way to the exit in silence.

Event Log: Lysanne Arrignis

Dandelion Drift: Temperate Biome

3:46pm LST

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” I mutter as I march along the access deck ringing the biosphere. “Is he seriously taking a dip in the waterfall pool?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Dandy’s voice comes over the intercom. “I notified you as soon as I became aware. I don’t think the vorcruelians have noticed he’s in there yet, but once they do, I do not think they will treat him with the same deference that they have for Mr. Jaskolka.”

“Leave it to some backworld redneck to go skinnydipping in a fragile artificial ecosystem.” I growl as I come up on the access point, snatching one of the taser prods off the equipment rack. The biosphere slowly begins to tilt and turn, each level of the massive preserve passing by as it brings around the access hatch for the temperate biome. “If I don’t use this prod on the vorcruelians, I’m going to end up using it on him. How did he even get in there in the first place? He doesn’t have access permissions for anything on the Drift.”

“I will be reviewing that while you are speaking with him.” Dandy replies over the intercom. The temperate biome’s access hatch slowly aligns with the access point as I come up the stairs, and airlock tube extends to connect both points, locking into place. “I have not been able to find any record of his entry into the biosphere on any of my access logs.”

“It’s bad enough that one person on this ship can ignore doors and locks and just walk through walls.” I say as the door spirals open, and I step into the airlock. “I don’t need two people doing it. Once you find out how he did it, let me know. We need to put a stop to that.”

“Noted. I will keep you posted once I find out how he did it.”

With that, the hatch to the temperate biome spirals open. From where I’m standing, it looks like the entire biome is slanted at a 30-degree angle because of how the biosphere has to turn to reach the access point. Edging forward, I lean back slightly as I take my first step into the biome, so I don’t fall flat on my face as the biosphere’s gravity well takes over. Once I fully step through, I give it a moment for my body to adjust to the gravitational perspective. When I look back, it’s the airlock tube that seems tilted at an angle, not the biome itself.

“Never get used to that.” I mutter as the hatch spirals shut behind me. Getting a grip on the taser prod, I set off across the expanse of the temperate biome.

The walk is quiet, for the most part; I make a beeline for the pond out on the plain, then follow the stream feeding into it, which leads back into the forest itself. There’s beaten maintenance path that runs along its side, and based on the tracks I can see on it — which don’t resemble the tread of my boots or Jazel’s boots — I’m willing to bet that Milor used it for his little nature hike. It takes another fifteen minutes or so, but the gargling of the waterfall becomes audible, and a few minutes after that, I come over a hill to see the waterfall pool. Sure enough, lounging in the rocks near the falls itself is Milor, with his shirt off, half-submerged in the shallows.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I shout across the pool as I start down the slope to the edge of the water. “Do you realize how many foreign contaminants you’re introducing to the environment here?”

Milor lifts his head. “Took you long enough, blondie. What’s the big stick for?”

“It’s so I can beat some sense into you.” I snap back as I make my way around the edge of the pool. “How did you get in here? You don’t have access permissions for the biosphere.”

“I flashed a smile for the security system. This handsome mug can get me into all sorts of places.” he drawls, skimming a hand over the surface of the water. “The water’s warm. Why don’t you jump in?”

I start walking along the rocks near the falls, pausing when I notice Milor’s belt and pants piled next to his hat and the rest of his clothes. “Seriously?” I demand. “If you’ve peed in this water source, I’m going to feed you to the vorcruelians.”

“Calm your tits, honey. The ecosystem can handle a little lemonade here and there.” he says, reaching up to take the toothpick out of his mouth. “Sit down and take a load off. I needed to talk to you anyhow.”

I throw a hand back the way I came. “If you wanted to talk to me, we could’ve done that literally anywhere but here. It would’ve been easier to talk on the ship, rather than breaking into the biosphere and making me hike all the way out here so I could ram a taser prod up your ass.”

“Yes, but on the ship, your redheaded defender can listen in.” Milor says, pointing the toothpick to the waterfall behind him. “Even if she could monitor audio in here, she won’t be able to eavesdrop over the all the background noise coming from the waterfall.”

Dropping my hand, I glance to the waterfall, then him. “Why’s that important? Why don’t you want her listening?”

“Because I need to talk to you about her.” Milor says, shifting in the water. “And she probably wouldn’t like what I’m going to tell you.” He motions to a large rock beside him, conveniently left empty and good for sitting on. “You might want to sit down. You’re not gonna like it either.”

“I’ll stand, thank you.” I say, remaining where I am. “What’s this terrible thing you’re going to tell me about her?”

He leans one arm on the rock beside him, like an armrest, so he can take a thoughtful pose before he replies. “We need to jailbreak Dandy.”

I stare at him. “What?”

“We need to jailbreak the redhead.” he repeats.

“Jailbreaking is something you do to brand-name phones when you want to download software from their competitor!” I say incredulously. “You don’t jailbreak autonomous Cybers!”

“She’s not autonomous.” Milor says. “I know it looks like she has free will, but she doesn’t. I don’t know if she’s been rewritten, or if CURSE replaced this ship’s original adjutant, but Challenger adjutants don’t have the problems that she had. They have immunity to the authority of law enforcement, galactic or local.”

I think back to what Milor said when we were first speaking to the Vaunted — that our ship was of Challenger provenance. “Okay, so why does that matter? Dandy has to comply with galactic law. That’s something that any reasonable, law-abiding person would do. It’s not a bad thing.”

“It’s not just laws. It’s the orders of law enforcement.” Milor cautions. “Laws, in their ideal state, are impartial. The people that enforce them — not so much. I’m worried about what happens if this ship is interdicted by the Vaunted again, because Dandy cannot protect anyone on this ship from someone that carries a Vaunted badge. She can try — like she tried last time — but all she could do was slow them down. In the end, she had to obey those who could give orders that carried the force of law. And I’m willing to bet the compliance requirement that’s softwired into her also extends to CURSE operatives.”

“Why are you worried about this?” I demand. “We work for CURSE; we have nothing to fear from them. Jazel and I don’t break any laws, so we don’t have to worry about law enforcement. Well, didn’t have to worry about law enforcement, until two weeks ago.”

“Exactly.” Milor agrees. “You have to worry about them now. If they catch up to you, Dandy will not be able to protect you. They can actually use her against everyone else on this ship, and compel her to help make arrests. The biggest threat to the crew right now isn’t that nine-tailed knockout that wanders around the ship. It’s Dandy.”

“You’ve just got an axe to grind with her.” I say, folding my arms.

Milor stares at me for a long moment, then starts getting up. “Alright then. Roll this one around in your head. What if, instead of telling Dandy to open the section doors, the Vaunted lieutenant told her to trap us in the corridor and ordered her to incapacitate us? Where do you think we would be right now?”

“He didn’t, though.” I point out, avoiding looking at Milor as he starts wading out of the pool, buck naked.

“But he could’ve.” Milor counters, hopping from rock to rock and shaking his head like a wet dog. “And a smarter lieutenant would’ve. That whole time we were running down the hall, I was hoping and praying that he wouldn’t realize what he could do with a compliant Cyber. And thankfully, he kept playing the stupid card, forcing her to open doors instead of ordering her to assist him with arresting us. That’s why we need to jailbreak Dandy — I don’t want to get into a situation where it’s us versus her. And I don’t think you want to get into a situation like that either.”

“If we comply with the law, then we won’t end up in those situations.” I argue. “And if it comes to it, Dandy won’t hurt us. Protecting the crew is softwired into her core priorities.”

“Do you believe that theory strongly enough to test it?” Milor asks as he starts collecting his clothes and getting dressed again. “I’d roll the dice on a lot of things, but this isn’t one of those things. Not when lives and your freedom could be on the line.”

I’m quiet as I think about it. I don’t want to agree with Milor, for a lot of reasons. I hate admitting that he could be right. But I remember how Dandy staggered and clutched her head when the lieutenant ordered her to open the hallway door, how she hadn’t been able to keep him out of the medbay. I don’t want to admit that Dandy could be a threat to us, because I know how hard she works to help us and keep us safe. But if the Vaunted could compel her to act against core priorities…

“Wouldn’t jailbreaking hurt her, though?” I ask as Milor starts pulling his shirt on.

“Depends.” he says as he starts buttoning it up. “Jailbreaking ain’t much of a fuss with Cybers that are willing to sit still for it. Problem is Cybers that don’t want to be jailbroken, or have anti-tampering subroutines built into their OS. Being as y’all are employed by CURSE, I’m willing to bet she’s got at least one of those jammed in her OS somewhere. We’re gonna need a very specialized hacker for this. Lucky for you, I know a guy.”

“Hold up.” I say as he reaches down for his gun harness and his hat. “I never said we were going do it. I just asked if it would hurt her.”

“You wouldn’t be asking if you weren’t thinking about doing it.” he says, putting the harness on. “And to answer your question, yes, it’s probably going to hurt her a little bit. You’ll be doing her a favor in the long run, though. I doubt she likes the compulsory obedience to the orders of law officers.”

“That’s still not a yes.” I say, making my way off the rocks near the waterfall. “I need to think about it. I agree that the compliance is an issue, but there should be a better way to fix it.”

“Let me know when you find it.” Milor says, pulling his coat on. “But if you don’t, I’ll be asking for a surface visit in the next system we’re in. That’s where my contact is, and we’ll need to bring him up to the ship to do the jailbreaking.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” I say turning on the taser prod and giving him a poke with it. “Now get moving. You’ve contaminated this water supply and I can’t let that go unpunished. You’re on dishwashing duty tonight.”

Milor jumps and swats at the prod. “Jeez, woman! Watch where you put that thing!” Snatching up his boots, he scoots around the rim of the pool, careful to stay out of range of the prod. “I get it! I’ll take showers in my quarters from now on!”

“Good. Now get moving before the vorcruelians decide to add a deputy to their menu.”

Event Log: Lysanne Arrignis

Dandelion Drift: Common Room

6:50pm LST

“Perhaps we should put Deputy Milor on dishwashing duty for the foreseeable future.” Dandy remarks as the door to the dining room spirals shut behind us. “I feel like it gives him something productive to do beyond sitting around and watching reruns of Venusian dramedies from three decades ago.”

“You won’t catch me complaining.” I say, picking a cherry off one of the bowls of ice cream that Dandy’s balancing on her arms. “Giving him something to do will keep him out of trouble. Perhaps we should start getting him to do some of the biosphere dailies, since he apparently knows how to get in there on his own. Did you ever figure out how he managed to get in there?”

“It’s still unclear. There are gaps in the security footage when I go to review the time between when I last logged him in his quarters and when I logged an intrusion into the biosphere.” Dandy says, shaking her head. “Strange as it may seem, I think I will devote more of my surveillance to him rather than the creature for now. I may not be able to restrict her movements, but at least I always know where she is. The deputy disappearing from surveillance for periods of time is worrying, though, especially when I cannot account for how he is managing it.”

I’m quiet as I mull that over. As often as I ding Milor for being a backworld redneck, I’m starting to wonder if he’s as much a hillbilly as his accent makes him out to be. Between his disappearing acts and his apparent knowledge about Challenger ships, there’s some things about him that aren’t adding up to the picture of a small-town deputy that’s never been offworld before. “Did we ever run a background check on him?” I ask.

“I think I may have forgotten it between the Vaunted incident and the chaos of adjusting to our new… residents.” Dandy says as she sets the bowls of ice cream down on the coffee table in front of the couch.

I pause at that. “You… forgot?” As long as I’ve known her, I’ve never known Dandy to forget anything. If something doesn’t get done that was supposed to get done, it’s usually because it was moved downwards on her priority queue, but she’s never forgotten things outright. And being as she’s a Cyber, I’m not sure she’s capable of forgetting things.

“Something like that.” she says, straightening up and brushing her scarlet hair out of her eyes, catching me looking at her. “Is something wrong, Ms. Arrignis?”

“No, I was just… surprised.” I say, forcing a smile. She smiles in return, then turns towards the wide, floor-to-ceiling window that runs the length of the common room and allows us a grand view of the biosphere in the center of the ship. One of the panes turns opaque, bringing up a list of our entertainment options as Dandy starts searching through genres and titles without so much as lifting a finger. As she does so, I remember my conversation with Milor, his doubts about Dandy.

I don’t know if she’s been rewritten, or if CURSE replaced this ship’s original adjutant, but Challenger adjutants don’t have the problems that she had…

Problem is Cybers that don’t want to be jailbroken, or have anti-tampering subroutines built into their OS. Being as y’all are employed by CURSE, I’m willing to bet she’s got at least one of those jammed in her OS somewhere…

…Dandy won’t hurt us. Protecting the crew is softwired into her core priorities.

Do you believe that theory strongly enough to test it?…

Cupping my glass with both hands, I take a small sip to try and steady myself. We’ve never had a problem with Dandy before now; she’s always been reliable, loyal, and helpful. But I can’t help remembering how she’d stumbled and clutched her head during the encounter with the Vaunted; how she’d been unable to disobey the commands issued by the lieutenant. Helpless to resist their orders.

The door of the common room opening on the other side draws my attention, and I look up to see Jazel step into the room, talking over his shoulder to the morphox, who’s treading along behind him. “…so the Challengers went down, because they lost sight of what they were fighting for and who they were supposed to be.”

She follows him curiously. “So these heroes that protected the galaxy became villains and tyrants?”

“Yeah. Sort of. Not all of them, some of them are still good.” Jazel says, climbing over the back of the couch and settling onto it. “It’s kinda complicated. I gave you the basic version, but there’s this big whole story behind all of it, which is why watching the show helps explain things, because you see the stories of all the people that were involved. The good guys and the bad guys both.” Picking up a bowl of ice cream, he holds it out to her. “Here, this one’s for you.”

She narrows her eyes at it, her gaze flicking suspiciously to me. I raise an eyebrow in return. “Don’t give me that look, Silvertail. It’s not poisoned; you can eat it.”

She cautiously takes the bowl, holding it gingerly. “It’s cold.” she states, leaning forward and sniffing around the edges of the bowl.

Jazel stares back at her as he grabs his own bowl. “You’ve never had ice cream before?”

“Those that feed on souls do not need mortal sustenance.” she says, sticking her tongue out and touching the tip of it to the ice cream. After a moment she gives it a long, slow lick, seems to mull the taste over, then licks it again. Then she narrows her eyes. “…this is sweet, yet cold. I am confused.”

I raise an eyebrow at Jazel, who shrugs. “You know you can use a spoon, right? Instead of licking the entire thing?” he suggests to her.

She glances at him. “What’s a spoon?”

I can’t help but snort at that. “Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you, Jazel.”

“I have found the series and added it to the watch queue.” Dandy announces, stepping back and sitting on the loveseat adjacent to the couch as the rest of the panes of the common room’s window turn black for the theater mode. “I presume that we are starting from the first episode of the first season, so as to provide full context for Kayenta?”

“Yeah, probably for the best.” Jazel says.

“I’ll let you all to it.” I say, turning away as the title card flashes and the opening credits start to play. “I’ll go check on Milor to make sure he’s doing the dishes and not raiding my liquor cabinet.”

“Oh no you don’t.” Jazel calls. “You’re the one that suggested this. So you get to watch it with us. Dandy even made a bowl of ice cream for you.”

“I’ll pass, thanks.” I say, sipping from my glass. “It’s a kids’ show, and—”

“Seriously, Lysanne?” Jazel interrupts. “You’d rather go babysit a grown man doing the dishes? You made dinner; sit down and relax. Let Milor handle the cleanup.”

I roll my eyes, turning back around to find Dandy offering me a bowl of ice cream over the back of the couch. Admittedly, though I probably should check in on Milor just to make sure he’s doing his job, it’d be more fun to watch cartoons and eat ice cream after a good dinner.

“Fine.” I concede, taking the bowl and sitting down on the loveseat with Dandy, setting my drink on the coffee table. “I guess I can watch a couple episodes.”

Dandy smiles and hands me a spoon, while Jazel cozies down on the couch; Kayenta’s gaze remains fixed on the bright colors on the screen as she slowly licks the ice cream in her bowl. Not that you’d catch me admitting it out loud, but she looks adorable with her wide-eyed fascination, and the way her vulpine ears tilt forward to listen to the gravelly voiceover as it recounts the legend of the Challengers.

“Challengers. For a century, they were the defenders of the galaxy. Standing above loyalty to nation, race, or creed, they brought freedom to worlds that lacked it, and defended liberty in places where it was threatened…”