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  Atlas had been listening to their entire conversation and he burned. Or as much as he could burn, being an intelligence. His emotions were intact, his logic was intact, his intelligence was intact, but his neurological system was not. He physically felt nothing, but he remembered everything.

  Captain Reina, Earthian pure-blood descent, joined the Space Fleet Peace Keepers at the age of eighteen and promptly rose in the ranks until she plateaued as warrant officer under Commander Anders. She had been part of his crew for a four-year term, until she was promoted to captain and given her current mission.

  No living family. No relationship status. A twenty-nine-year-old female from the New American Metropolis. Her father and mother expired. Excellent service record. Captain Reina was as boring as this mission. No strings attached, no ties to keep her grounded, and no one to miss her.

  But most importantly, her medical records: type O blood, physically fit, recently moved into a cybernetic human status and pending Neoborg Program. Atlas scoffed. She had suffered no real physical injuries, had never been on the front lines of a fight, and had no connections nor life outside the fleet.

  No wonder why the council picked her, she’s a military zombie. A doll.

  He bet the girl was reeling if the auditory feed was any indication. She was his captain for the duration of this adventure, and it would be a painfully boring one for him.

  The woman likely had no feeling, and whatever she did have was probably suppressed under years of working for the Earthian Council.

  We’re two of a kind.

  She has no idea the council will use her until every drop of energy is bled out of her. And they would continue using her afterward. She’s probably already labeled as a Neoborg.

  He checked.

  She was.

  “I would, sir.”

  “No need to get up, Captain, your team is right here,” Dr. Estond said. “This is Atlas, your co-captain and your navigator.”

  Atlas could register the confusion on the woman’s face even though he couldn’t see it. His comm channel on his projector opened up.

  I guess they’ll allow me to speak now. “Hello, Captain Reina. I am Atlas, your Automated Transport and Logistical Aid System.”

  There was a slight pause before she responded, “Hello, Atlas. Nice to meet you.”

  “It is nice to meet you too, Captain Reina.”

  “Atlas is a sentient intelligence that is employed by the Council. He is the best navigator in our fleet and has been a considerable asset to the cybernetics program,” Wasson interjected.

  “I was once a Cyborg.”

  “I don’t understand, sir. I don’t have a designated crew?” The girl’s voice held a note of confusion. “I’m a space-jet pilot. I can’t fly a spacecraft of this magnitude alone.” She hesitated, “I’m not...qualified.”

  “There will be no one else. You will need no one else. Atlas is highly adept with all of our systems. He can not only navigate, but he can manage any other systems you give him access to. He can also help accustom you to your new abilities. Your qualifications are a non-issue.”

  “So no one else, sir? Why send me at all?”

  Wasson’s sigh was audible enough that his sounds bytes picked up a breathy crackle. “I don’t think you understand the point. We need a live-body, someone who is familiar with space law and protocol. Your rank and record are pristine. You understand ships, your body is used to gravity shifts, and your psyche is honed for extended trips.”

  Estond cut in, “The ship is a cybernetic machine, and thus was built to be controlled by a cybernetically enhanced human.”

  “You will find that Atlas is worth more than an entire World Destroyer’s crew,” Wasson added.

  You will be my captain and I outrank you. “You can be assured, Captain Reina, that you will be in good hands.” Atlas chuckled internally at his joke. He couldn’t see the humans sitting at the table but his imagination was adept enough to picture the scene perfectly.

  The bastard Wasson was at the head, his chair slightly raised to exude his power and presence, the muscles in his neck would be bunched and in dire need of a massage. Estond would appear alert, act alert, but would be lost in the file opened on the table before him, only seeming to speak when specific words or topics pulled him out just enough to add to the conversation.

  The girl–her fleet identification picture came to mind–would have started out with calm excitement, dulled with years of a tedious flight regimen and convention, only to find herself further losing her reserved exterior as the conversation continued.

  Atlas didn’t know her, hadn’t spent time in her presence before unlike the other two, but he knew reactions.

  Hers would be pitiful. She would have a million questions that would go unasked, choosing to remain silent, knowing that every time she spoke she might make a fool out of herself in front of her superiors.

  “Now that the introductions are out of the way–we expect you to relay all information that you find. Your destination is beyond Ursa Major to a blacklisted sector known as Abyss-105. You’ll go dark when you enter. You’ll set up communication parameters with Port Antix prior and all information should be directly fed there.”

  Dr. Estond interrupted, “The tracker in your arm, as well as the trackers in your ship’s systems, will remain live for a time after communication goes black.”

  “Yes. That’s true. The space station, Antix, will need to pair with your ship. You will have to land there.”

  Atlas kept his metaphorical mouth shut as the men continued. But the conversation suddenly tapered off. He couldn’t tell why, but he knew a hurricane was hitting the cybernetic lab. He couldn’t see it, not with the limited projection system they had brought with them, but he could sense it.

  The silence was broken by his new captain, surprising him. “Sir, Dr. Estond, when my ship goes dark, and I lose all connection to the network...when should I turn back and realign with the communication systems? When I find an anomaly, see something out of place? What do I look for?”

  “Truthfully, Captain Reina, we don’t know what you will find out there. We don’t even have an image of anything abnormal. What we have collected thus far has been utterly normal. If it were me,” the lieutenant general continued ominously, “I would turn back at the first sign of anything strange. We leave that to your discretion.” He paused. “And your life.”

  Atlas almost felt bad for the woman.

  Chapter Two:

  Reina entered the docking bay to her ship. Her previous commanding officer followed her into the upgraded, one-of-a-kind transporter vessel.

  The Earthian Council had created a hybrid ship for her to travel into deep space that was controlled by cybernetic technology. Perfect for a pseudo-cyborg like herself and a sentient intelligence.

  Reina looked around and her first impression was... cold. The ship was sleek, frigid, and stark. It reminded her of herself, or at least the walls she nurtured.

  She shivered when she thought about the loneliness to come.

  “Well, this is different. But not different enough that you won't be familiar with it.” Chris Anders, her commander and captain of four years, inspected the schematics he held. The doors opened seamlessly as she walked through.

  The vessel was already registered with her identification.

  They progressed through the hull and into a white and grey-trimmed metal passageway. Lights ran along the walls in crisp streaks, only interrupted by the occasional door.

  As she inspected the interior, she found many intermittent doors that led to other parts of the ship. The cargo bay beneath, engine rooms with reactors, and if they moved even further down, the warp drive station. Quarters, which would remain empty, were on the main level, as well as the medbay, life-support emergency room, crew lounge, and eating station.

  The view deck and sky-loft were above.

  The escape pods were behind them now, back at the landing deck and hull.

  They made a b
eeline for the bridge. The ship was big enough to comfortably hold a crew of fifty, a tiny version of a transporter vessel, decked with the military power of a blitzer, the metalloid skeleton a perfect match to her robotic arm.

  Wasted space. She had few regrets in her life and this mission was quickly becoming one of them.

  The moment Reina stepped on board, she could feel the connection: her hand wanted to plug into the systems. The electrical impulses shot up through her body and into the chip in her brain. It feels like home. It feels like an extension of my arm. It feels wrong.

  “This is much smaller than my Credence. How are you going to handle the claustrophobia?” Chris asked, looking around.

  “I don’t mind it, it’s far more manageable. The size is substantial but it’s still smaller than any of the habitable battleships in the fleet. I can see why they made it moderate. Small enough to lose, but big enough to repurpose. Equipped with just enough of everything to encounter whatever may be out there in Abyss-105,” she mumbled, peeking her head into the lounge.

  “I wish you wouldn’t do this.” Anders stopped her. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, sending a shiver through her form. “I can make you disappear.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “No one can hear us.”

  “You don’t know that. My crew consists of one very knowledgeable intelligence.” She hushed him.

  “Atlas.”

  “You know it?”

  “Not an it, Reina, a him. A Cyborg, an original. And yes, I know who Atlas is. I’ve never worked with him personally but his reputation is well known,” he answered loudly, taunting fate to take him out. Shut up, Chris. “I’m happy that the Council assigned him to you.”

  “They assigned only him to me. No one else. It’s like they don’t even believe I can command people.”

  “Can you? They did raise you significantly in rank, and you are quiet, and truthfully, rather cold. They probably don’t believe you can. Atlas is all you’ll need. Did you ever think that maybe no one else would go on this mission, Reina? Maybe the Earthian Council couldn’t spare anyone else.” He huffed, “It’s not like we have an army anymore. This is the last mission to go out to the outskirt sectors. What a waste of time and resources. Whatever is out there has never moved closer. We have far more important problems to deal with right here.”

  Reina stepped back and eyed him suspiciously. “You know an awful lot for someone who wasn’t in the briefing.”

  “I know it’s not worth even the life of one woman.”

  Their conversation died as they entered the helm. Gigantic reinforced crystalline glass created a half-dome. Reina’s jaw dropped as she was pulled to the window. It faced a hanger that faced an ocean, but she could imagine the gorgeous view that she would have in front of her very soon.

  “Wow.” Her friend stepped up next to her. “I’m a little jealous. They sure don’t want you to miss anything out there.”

  “No,” she said, “They don’t. Not everyone thinks this mission is a waste.”

  “What do you think is out there?” Anders ignored her.

  Reina shook her head, feeling tendrils of her hair come loose from her bun. “I have no idea. A wormhole perhaps? Maybe even the walls of the universe? Perhaps the gateway to another dimension? Hell?” She smirked but it felt forced.

  “Hmm, would never have thought you to be someone who had crazy ideas. I like it. I’m going to think positive thoughts and pretend you’ll find paradise, and paradise is the reason why no one returns.” He laughed, “Greeted with forty virile men.”

  “There were forty virile men on the Credence.”

  A silence followed as they looked around.

  Reina ran her hand over the synthetic white leather of the captain’s seat. A silver metal table and circular structure sat to the right of her chair. The bars made an extendable frame that would encircle the chair when powered on to create a translucent screen. She had seen them before on tours in the World Destroyers.

  There were seats for the bridge crew. Seats that would go unused except as a reminder that she was alone.

  An electric fizzle sounded in the cabin, and a teal holographic beam shot up through the middle of the room. What she thought should have been a simple table ended up being a floor-to-ceiling projector system.

  Reina watched as her old commander stepped forward and waved his hand through the beam. The entire room was awash in a clarifying white and airy-blue light.

  The bright beam wavered and vibrated as her friend tested out the transparency, seeming to know what it was. “Hello, Atlas,” he said.

  “Hello, Commander Anders. Hello, Captain Reina.” Reina shivered at the steely robotic voice. Her cybernetic arm twitched as if it was stung by a bee. She looked down at it and shook the feeling away.

  “Good day, Atlas,” she responded. Does he know night from day? Does it matter?

  “Do you like your ship, Captain?”

  “I do.”

  “I am relieved. I helped with its creation.”

  Reina looked around, wowed that her co-pilot created her new, possibly lifelong home. Or her billion dollar coffin.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Beauty is often a low requirement when it comes to functionality. In our line of work, beauty is the only thing that keeps many of us going. It should not be jeopardized but nurtured, sought after, and coveted.”

  “Your schematics don’t show a holding cell,” Anders interrupted. Reina looked over at her former commander. Of course he would notice something like that. I prefer the beauty.

  “We went for compact efficiency, Commander. With just one passenger, there was no need to waste the space for a designated holding cell. Any quarter on this ship can be converted into a holding unit if one should be needed.”

  “Is that safe? Keeping potential prisoners near where the crew would sleep?”

  “It is efficient.”

  Reina felt an argument brewing. “It’s done, Chris, let it rest. There will be no prisoners and I will be safe within these walls.”

  “I care very much for your safety.” Her friend retorted pinning her with a protective stare. His voice rose slightly, “And this ridiculous quest is not safe.” Reina tried to stop an uncomfortable blush that heated her cheeks. It was inappropriate. She didn’t want Chris to see.

  “Commander Anders, her safety is of the utmost importance to the Earthian Council, and to me. Captain Reina is now my captain and I have been charged with her safety as well as the completion of this mission. Both are equal and important and one cannot happen without the other.”

  Reina grabbed her former commander’s forearm and squeezed. Her eyes begging him to back off. Chris shot her a look before turning away. When her hand dropped, he rounded back with a smirk. “So, Captain Reina, what will you name your ship?”

  She looked around; the question took her aback, since the ship was new. “I don’t know.”

  “I think–”

  “–It will not be after one of your classical bands.”

  Anders struck her with a hurt expression. “CCR is not classical, it’s classical rock.”

  “And the council aptly changed your ship’s name when you registered it.”

  “I thought ‘Creedence’ was a good name for a ship, Commander. But I believe this vessel should be named: Artificial Thought Led Astral Sail,” Atlas interjected. Reina looked at the towering light that streamed through the middle of the bridge.

  She burst into laughter.

  “Thank you, Atlas.” Anders’s ruggedly boyish hurt expression morphed back into a smirk. “That’s a great name too.” She thought he may just pull a harmonica out of his uniform pocket. “I need to leave, Reina, but I’ll be back to see you off when you depart at 16:00 hours.”

  Reina followed him out of the bridge, and the S.I.’s light remained on behind her as she went to find her quarters.

  ATLAS MONITORED THE two as they entered his ship and explored the vessel. He kn
ew of Commander Chris Anders, one of the more competent men in the Space Fleet, an excellent pilot and fair commander of a fleet of patrol ships.

  The only battles that waged now were those of splinter groups, organized crime, Trentian fanatics, and the occasional run-ins with the pirate syndicate. Now that the leader of the so-called Space Pirates, Larik, was incarcerated, the once underground war in the Council’s side was now just a thorn. Anders had fronted many of the black-listed battles.

  He swam through a digital current. This mission was going to be painfully boring.

  Atlas couldn’t tell the relationship of his captain and the commander. They retained a single status in the network, but the familiarity between them went beyond a commander and subordinate. There was affection in the way they spoke to each other. A slightly strained tension with an inflection that he monitored.

  It was difficult to amuse him these days, but the social interactions of humans never stopped being a source of rapt fascination.

  Maybe because he was spying. Maybe it was because he could scarcely recall the subtle feelings of being alive, and human. Maybe because he had taken it all for granted.

  As he continued to listen, his curiosity grew by the minute about Captain Reina’s reasoning to undertake a mission that very likely would end in her death.

  The database held no information that stood out to him.

  Only a recent diplomatic debacle, one that had raised tensions with the Trentians.

  He powered on his projector system in the cockpit, one he designed with the help of Dr. Estond and his team, behind the two people he was spying on.

  The system allowed him to project his body in a lifelike state within the bridge and anywhere else within its perimeter. All projectors installed on the ship were built with streaming feed, so he would be able to see and be seen. There were not many throughout, and most areas only had communication channels and cameras.

  Atlas stopped himself before he fully formed. Seeing the woman for the first time, something shifted within his head as she looked at his unit.