While Max and I were aware of my other instances being off-duty for the foreseeable future due to the incident on Blackwood, we had been told in no uncertain terms that continuing the mission came first.

At the moment that focus on the mission meant Shen was briefing us on our next assignment, noting “Anyway, thanks to the analysts poking through Alex Fuller’s archival drive and reconstructing his divination equation we’ve already discovered a space station that the crew of Bark’s Finest constructed to service their ship in interstellar space, though it looks like they haven’t been there for a while.”

Shen paused for a brief moment, before noting “You’ll be Mindcast back to the Loan Shark shortly to take part in picking through it for any additional scraps of information as to where the pirates might have gone. In the meantime we’ve got a constrained instance of Alex Fuller running in an isolated server for interrogation purposes, and we’re wondering what if anything you might be able to get out of him. We’ve already got all his memories out the direct way, but there’s some things about a person you can only really learn by talking to them.”

I blinked in surprise, before asking “Shen you are aware I was never trained for prolonged interrogations, correct? I’m a field agent, not an analyst or an interrogator.”

Shen nodded in agreement “I am fully aware of what qualifications you do and don’t have, Agent Madeline Zargosty Eight. Still, it has been determined that some firsthand experience with Alex Fuller may be useful for investigating a former base of operations. As such, please follow me and we’ll get you hooked into the interrogation virtual reality.”

And so I found myself following after Shen as he guided me to a nondescript room in the BoSI office block. When we arrived a synthmorph-wearing technician saluted and greeted us with “The simulation is fully prepared. For security reasons the only data in or out is via bandwidth-limited hardlink; I’ll connect you as soon as you’re ready, Agent Zargosty.”

I nodded, and sat down in the chair provided. I felt a pad being pressed against my neck, and a prompt to accept a virtuality invite popped into my awareness. I accepted with a thought, and then suddenly the BoSI office fell away leaving me sitting across a table from a man wearing a form visually indistinguishable from a baseline human. The simulated area around us resembled a park more than anything, with a river running beside us, soft grass all around, and several colorful flowerbeds being busily pollinated by tiny drones.

Entirely unphased at my sudden appearance, the man raised an eyebrow as he asked “My future self got himself killed, didn’t he?”

I shook my head, and replied “Actually no. Anyway, hello Alex Fuller; I am Madeline Zargosty, and I’m with the Red Star Union’s Bureau of Starforce Intelligence. It’s been a bit less than two Gigaseconds since you were archived, and your future self is a rather successful space pirate captaining a crew that stole four Non-Orientable Wormhole pairs.”

That apparently got through to Alex, as his only response was a simple “What. That’s absurd; the security on NOWs is utterly ridiculous. You’d need to flawlessly infiltrate multiple different organizations to even have a chance at stealing them without getting exploded for your trouble, and there’s absolutely no way you could fence that sort of thing. Plus there would be utterly ridiculous levels of heat from every single direction in the aftermath.”

I grinned as I noted “You’re pretty sharp there; every single part of what you said is entirely accurate. And yet your future self not only managed to pull it off, but also doubtless knew about every single complicating factor you just outlined. So tell me, what could have lead your future self to this decision?”

There was a pause of several seconds, before Alex answered “He’s probably going to try and found his own nation around a young blue star with a mass roughly twice that of sol, preferably with a red dwarf secondary. We both know that he knows damn well there’s no way to fence NOWs, but on the other hand having a bunch of extras would be extremely useful for bootstrapping an industrial base in a newly settled star system; especially since they provide a massive shortcut to having your own wormhole industry. I don’t think I would have left the galaxy though; too invested in the baseline holdouts to completely sever ties with the rest of civilization.”

I thought for a moment and asked “Care to elaborate on that last point? While I can’t understand the appeal myself, letting the tiny fraction of people who want to remain as baseline humans do that seems pretty harmless.”

Alex winced at that, before he explained “I was born in a baseline enclave, and let me tell you right now that they’re anything but harmless. Ever stopped to wonder how they keep people from leaving for the rest of civilization, despite the amazing quality of life increase from getting a proper body, or even just going fully virtual in a secured server? Go on, guess.”

Immediately possibilities whirled through my mind as to how exactly that sort of thing could be achieved, and I suddenly felt a chill as the implications slammed home. Cautiously I answered “I’m guessing a mix of childhood indoctrination and emotional blackmail in most cases, along with even more restrictive measures. Like you said most sane people would want out of that sort of place, so they’d need to be coerced into staying.”

Alex nodded “Got it in one. I spent the first half a gigasecond of my life swallowing every single lie about transhumanity that the elders spewed before a few friends and I finally managed to break out of the information bubble they were keeping us in. As soon as that happened I made a dash out of the enclave’s owned districts and ran to the nearest re-morphing facility I could find. I got the closest thing to a war-morph that I possibly could, then I went back in.”

I nodded solemnly, asking “You wanted to get your friends out, didn’t you?”

Alex frowned, before replying “Yes, and I only barely succeeded. Anyway, our accounts of the conditions in the baseline enclave hit the news immediately after. Bark’s government immediately ordered a forced dissolution of the enclave and that all the elders were to be taken for questioning. The elders responded by turning things into a hostage situation; they deployed a nanoweapon that would allow them to remotely kill any of their flock on command, and demanded that the enclave be allowed to remain intact.”

I nodded sadly. Textbook authoritarian behavior, desperately holding onto every last possible scrap of power for as long as possible. After a moment or so, I asked “So, I take it that didn’t end well?”

What followed was several seconds of hollow, bitter laughter before Alex managed to answer “Are you kidding? This is Bark we’re talking about; a nation by, for, and of mad bio-engineers. They had a counter agent for the nanoweapon designed and deployed via aerosol inside a kilosecond. Still, the cure hadn’t reached everyone before the Elders realized what happened and sent out the kill signal.”

Alex’s face fell as he recounted “Almost everyone I knew and loved died that day, and because of the Elders’ rabid insistence on keeping everyone as pure baseline humans they died permanently. Doctor Brose took me in during the aftermath, but we never really meshed on any significant level. I haven’t really felt like I truly belonged anywhere since then; it’s one of the reasons I was thinking about becoming a spacer, but judging by what you’ve told me about my future self that didn’t exactly go well.”

I nodded solemnly, before asking “You never even thought about becoming a pirate until now, did you?”

Alex frowned, before answering “Never is a strong word, but becoming a pirate wasn’t really in my plans. What seems most likely is that some other crew members decided to commit mutiny, and my future self went along with it afterwards.”

There were another few moments of silence, before Alex said “There’s not much else I can tell you about the other me’s actions. He’s simply diverged too much for me to make a more accurate guess than what I’ve already told you. I’m sorry.”

I thought for a moment, before asking “Is there anything else you want to talk about? It doesn’t have to be about your future self, your upbringing, or anything else that makes you uncomfortable.”

Alex paused for a few moments, before noting “That’s appreciated. Still, I really don’t have anything else I want to talk about; I just want to get out of this virtual space and try to rebuild my life. I suppose maybe I could talk about my family, but that just seems like a way to bring up old pain that I’m not ready to deal with right now.”

I nodded solemnly and exited the virtual reality. Shen was waiting there, and asked “So, Agent Zargosty. What’s your professional opinion on Alex Fuller, now that you’ve gotten to meet him in person?”

My reply was simple and direct “Get that man a body, a therapist, an identity in no way connected to Captain Fuller or Bark’s Finest, and maybe a family if you can swing it. The instance of Alex Fuller in that server is a completely normal person who’s been through some bad times, and can almost certainly be a decent citizen of the RSU with normal levels of support. Putting him through the criminal justice system would be an act of pointless cruelty.”

Shen chittered agreeably, before noting “While that is a good set of recommendations for dealing with him, it’s not quite what I was asking about. Madeline Zargosty, do you believe that the interview helped you understand Alex Fuller as a person, and is that knowledge likely to assist with the investigation.”

I hummed “Yes, pretty sure I learned an awful lot about his motivations. I’m unsure how much it will actually help with the mission, but knowledge is power so it’s not going to cause any problems.”

Shen idly shifted his carapace into a swirling pink and orange pattern before replying “Good. In that case get yourself back to the Mindcast bay. Your next assignment is to join the crew of the Loan Shark in picking through the abandoned space station constructed by the crew of Bark’s Finest. You are to be deployed immediately, so get going.”

I fired off a quick salute and immediately took off at a jog, my tail swishing behind me as I traveled. I only took a few minutes to reach the room in question, and I quickly encountered Bud. She cheerfully exclaimed “Hello M8! Where are you two going now?”

I answered “Back to Loan Shark please. Max and I have been assigned to go pick through an old base left behind by the crew of Bark’s Finest.” as I climbed into one of the scanning pods.

Bud answered “Sure thing.” as the cover of the pod closed. The scanning probe came down and brushed against my spine, and instantly I was in a different Mindcast pod entirely.

As I got out I was greeted by Grom, who waved a tentacle at me as he greeted me “Hello Madeline, I’ve been waiting for you. I look forward to collaborating with you on our upcoming mission.”

I couldn’t help but smirk, noting “Nice to see you too Grom, and I see you’re as dry as ever. I’m absolutely looking forward to the mission, and did you know there’s an entire harem of me waiting for you after we get this whole thing wrapped up?”

That’s the exact moment that I learned Grom’s squid-like synthmorph was equipped with blush lights, his face visibly lighting up as he twitched slightly in barely suppressed excitement, before cheerfully remarking “Well, it’s a good thing I’ve got enough tentacles for all of you then. Anyway, I’ll give you the rundown on what we’ve found exploring this place so far while we make our way to the transfer tube.” as he turned towards the exit of the Mindcast bay and gestured for me to follow him.

I obligingly trailed along behind Grom as he lead me through the familiar corridors of the Loan Shark. That said, it looked an awful lot less piratey than it had, with most of the decorations having been stripped out and replaced with the Red Star Union Starforce’s more utilitarian gray and blue color scheme. Soon we reached a window looking out into the Skimmer bay, and I got my first glimpse of the space station the Bark’s Finest crew had constructed.

The first word that popped into mind when I looked at it was “Scaffolding”. It was an exposed structural framework for the most part with a few tanks for storing extra fuel in, and a bay for temporary plunder storage. I couldn’t spot anywhere a power plant could have gone on it, but on reflection it seemed fairly obvious that they’d have used the Non-Orientable Wormhole reactor aboard Bark’s Finest to run the station’s systems.

As we approached the tube leading from our ship into the space station, Grom noted “The station’s structural frame actually contains a surprisingly large amount of habitat space, though only about a percent of it has been mapped and cleared out so far. We’ve been assigned to the same sector near the fuel tanks, so come with me. By the way, here’s a data packet with everything we’ve figured out about the place so far.”

True to his word, Grom sent a data packet my way that I quickly internalized. Immediately my knowledge about the space station’s layout was significantly improved, but still incredibly sparse given how little had yet been explored. Still, looking through the data I couldn’t help but note “Huh. I’d have thought that the pirates would have left behind more automated defenses to cause problems for unwelcome visitors.”

We were just entering the transfer tube and grabbing on to one of the tram handles when Grom replied “They probably figured no-one would be likely to find this base, to be completely honest. If they’d been selecting locations randomly instead of through Captain Fuller’s weird fortune telling they would have been right in all likelihood. The interstellar void tends to be very low on Steaders out here on the Frontier, and those are the only people likely to bother with visiting such a place unless they’ve got a reason to go poking around.”

I shrugged and replied “Makes sense to me. Anyway, it looks like our tram is arriving.”

Indeed, the handle we were riding along began pulling to a stop at the other end of the tube, and both Grom and I released to let what momentum remained fling us into the connected area of the space station. An agent wearing a bulky synthmorph greeted us, before saying “Sector 1-2-0. Right that way. I’ll be coming with you.”

Suddenly, I had an overwhelming premonition that we were about to walk into a deathtrap, and I wanted every last bit of assurance I could get before I went in there.. Immediately, I called out “I’m going to make a backup right this instant before we get out of Loan Shark’s network range. Grom, I highly recommend you do the same.” and pinged the Loan Shark’s network to send them a copy of both Max and myself.

The next thing I knew I was in a Mindcast pod, the agent who’d greeted us in the space station’s lobby busily attaching a new left arm to his shoulder where it looked like it had been shot off. As I hauled myself to an upright position, the agent idly glanced over towards Grom and I and noted “Welcome back to the land of the living, agents Zargosty and Hadrian. Though I suppose from your perspective you never left.”

I winced at the realization of what must have happened, before asking “So how much time did I lose?”

At the exact same moment, I realized I was wearing a synthmorph; instead of the mess of metabolic pathways typically reported by my biofeedback, there was only exterior sensors, basic system status for primary energy reservoirs and motors, damage readouts, and basic interfaces with the internal maintenance and defense nanites that were the only biological systems. Still, I retained most of my normal looks, albeit in polymer white rather than my normal somewhat melanistic skin tone. It made sense; synthmorphs are quicker to make and have higher combat performance; that’s why the army uses them so much.

The agent replied “You lost about a kilosecond, and also all your black boxes; otherwise you’d have remembered what went down. Anyway Grom had a spare morph on-hand so he’s been back up and running for a while already, but the same can’t be said for you. He’s in the nearest armory getting a bunch of explosives ready at the moment; it’s highly recommended that you stop by there as well. We’re going to be needing some serious anti-materiel weaponry to deal with the automated defense systems that we stumbled into.”

I couldn’t help but groan. Of course they’d have saved the defenses for the actually important parts of the space station. Quickly, I asked “Mind sending me a memory packet about what happened to internalize? Going in blind is stupid and it’s not a mistake I want to repeat.”

The agent nodded, and a few seconds later I had a pretty good idea of the fates that had befallen both Grom and my other selves. They’d gotten most of the way through the corridors towards the back frame of the space station, when suddenly everything turned into deathtraps. It was all stuff that could be run off reserve power, but on the scale of a space station that reserve power could do a lot of damage. Case in point, the other me had been almost instantly coated in some incendiary compound and burned to the point where her blackboxes were no longer viable; meanwhile Grom had just been so riddled with mag gun fire from a turret that everything in his morph had been trashed. It was pretty clear; we’d been lulled into a false sense of security.

Immediately after that realization, I stormed off towards the nearest armory on this thirty kilometer ship, fuming at other me’s complacence the whole way. I arrived a few minutes later, and came face to face with Grom, my favorite robotic cephalopod in the whole entire universe. At the moment, he was checking over some gear.

As I arrived, he turned to face me and remarked “Ah, nice to have you back Madeline. If you’ll come over here, I’ve got several pieces of gear ready for us to use that we really should have had on the first run.”

I obliged Grom and walked over, and just as I arrived he opened up a case revealing thousands of insect-sized drones. Taking a look at them, I guessed “Expendable scouts? Nice.”

Grom replied smugly “More than that; each of these bugs has a one-shot plasma cutter that’ll let it do some seriously nasty stuff to any hardware we use it on. If they run into something where they can’t get close enough to do that, that’s what the lasers are for. I’ve got my tentacle beams like always, though this time with active cooling. As for you, please look to your right.”

I did so, my gaze first hitting upon the weapon that Grom picked out from me. The architecture reminded me vaguely of a flamethrower from one of those industrial-age war reenactments, with the huge energy unit and coolant tank in a backpack connected to a pistol-sized beam gun by a hose. I quickly checked the rating; one megawatt. With the massive backpack for running that laser, that meant it could keep up continuous fire for well over a kilosecond.

Looking at it, I asked “Grom, this is the sort of weapon used for extremely heavy-duty suppressive fire, not anti-materiel work. Are you sure this is an appropriate weapon for the job?”

Grom simply replied “The corridors are far too tight for a battle laser to be practical. Similarly, a megawatt of beam power is more than sufficient for destroying defensive weapons, and with how big the facility is we’ll need all the endurance on that beam we can get. It’s the same reason that my current morph actually has a second entire energy storage unit just for the lasers; I don’t want to cut into my main power for this.”

I conceded the point and slipped on the backpack, the straps automatically tightening to secure it in a snug position even as I familiarized myself with all of the weapon’s firing modes. After a few moments, I noted “Alright, let’s get going on this. We’ve got a space station to pick clean.”

And so we traversed the corridors of the Loan Shark once more. When we got to the tram tube, we found a fellow with a large spool of network cable strung with high-bandwidth network routers waiting for us. He didn’t even wait for us to ask why, simply noting “Hello, I’ve been assigned to unroll this cable as you progress deeper into the space station. The idea is that we’ll extend the areas our agents can backup and communicate in as we go further in.”

Neither Grom, Max, or I had any objections to this; as far as we were concerned having a data pipeline to make backups would be a good thing.

Anyway, a quick ride through the tram tube brought us back to the lobby for the space station, and I couldn’t help but feel an extreme level of apprehension as I made another backup. The fact that I didn’t immediately wake up in a new body after that was both nerve-wracking and strangely relieving. Nerve-wracking because it meant I still stood a very real chance of being a me that died permanently, and strangely relieving because I knew I still had a chance to get out of this alive.

Grom and I shared a brief glance, and without further delay he opened one of the cases full of drones and sent the activation signal. Immediately a truly vast amount of information patched itself into my sensory awareness as the drones streamed into the air. I will admit to being somewhat overwhelmed by this, so I asked Max “Hey, you want to run the drones? You’re the cyberwar specialist, so this is really more your area of expertise than mine.”

From the back of my mind Max replied “Certainly, Madeline. Move over a little bit; I’m putting your instance in Black Box number 3 to sleep so I can monopolize its processors.”

I felt a little bit of our mental partitions rearrange as Max got himself ready, and within a second or so he started using our body’s internal transceiver to synch up with the drones. Idly, Max directed them through a few aerobatic maneuvers before he dispersed them into a proper scouting swarm and said “Alright, let’s go.”

And so we traveled onwards into the depths of the space station, our follower unrolling cable behind us as we went. The further from friendly territory we got the more of the cable’s bandwidth all four of us hogged keeping our remote backups synchronized, the twitchier I got about every single thing that might have been movement, and the more paranoid Max was about inspecting every single little thing for possible traps. This attitude proved rather justified when we found the first mine.

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