Darkness looms at the perimeter of Averroes Camp. The constant rotation of the small asteroid projects a shifting panorama of celestial bodies across the cold, thin layer of gas known to patients as "HuEOS 289's sky". The byproducts of the Kemi-TEc MSG Plant precipitate in an oily, yellowish mist, quickly condensing on Aleph’s REMs frosty exteriors. Indifferent to the weather, cosmic radiation, and the inevitable future, the machines lie in wait for the signal to storm the facility. Lieutenant MMX watches the slick liquid gather and mutters, “I like it when it rains.”
***
Averroes Hospital. Dim lighting. Room 619. Erin O'Nealz’s soft silhouette contrasts against the hard, transparent walls of the tech-coffin where she lies unconscious, suspended in stasis.
***
The signal comes: infiltrate the perimeter, eliminate the node operatives marked by intelligence, collect evidence of activities in the Camp. The first to move is a CSU, one of the many recruited by Uncle Pentium to serve as biological liability. Sprinting towards the Tacbot fireteam's position, she raises her shotgun and fires—at his own side. Two flashing blasts, followed by a volley of HMG rounds, faintly echo across the asteroid’s proto-atmosphere. Two Dakinis and the assassin impersonator hit the ground. “What next?” asks Uncle Pentium, as Aleph’s mainframe finally syncs with the answers it had long awaited about the Eye of Hipparchus' results. Bad news and good news, as always.
***
Averroes Hospital. Room 619. Erin O'Nealz, pale-skinned, lies at the base of the tech-coffin, her face smeared with dark green blood. Kiiutan knives gripped in her hands. The sharp scents of cinnamon, grapevine, and palo santo linger—the scent of death by surprise attack.
***
Tracers light up the outskirts of Averroes as Tacbots fall under fire, their mimetic capabilities failing to shield them. The squad holds their position, entrenched, waiting for an opportunity to advance. Lieutenant MMX drops her disguise and conjures a blob of white noise, prompting the Rudra gunbot to break cover and neutralize the enemy operative stalling their push. Meanwhile, the engineer initiates the Shepherd’s Force Reconstitution Protocol, rebooting the fallen Tacbots. The advance begins as Uncle Pentium skims the report at the speed of thought.
***
Averroes Hospital. Room 619. A faint scent of mint escapes Erin O'Nealz’s breath as smoke curls from her silenced pistol. She collapses to her knees, the adrenaline that kept her going finally dissipating, replaced by the sharp pain of her unhealed wounds. She glances at the spherical camera on the ceiling. Nothing happens. “Well done, CameRaccoon,” she whispers before rolling into the room and shutting the door. Vintage curtains block the unremarkable view of the asteroid outside. She looks at herself—one dead, one wounded, one automation replica captured by Haqq forces after the last assault. And lastly, the one in the tech-coffin, slowly coming back to life. A faint sound of a fire door closing echoes from the far end of the hallway. She’s glad she resisted the urge to spout a one-liner.
***
Aleph isn’t the only one using machines to get its work done. From the enemy’s rear, the unmistakable tail of a Maghariba Guard emerges, MULTI rounds raining over Aleph’s forces as the massive machine pushes forward. One CSU stands firm, unfazed, shotgun in hand, holding his corner. Steady shots hammer at the TAG’s armor, forcing the Haqq pilot to reassess. The TAG pivots, exposing itself for a better shot. It’s an uneven fight, but this isn’t the CSU’s first rodeo. “Get the life insurance prize, or die tryin’,” he mutters, firing without passion, as if stamping paperwork, dreaming of a life he’ll never live. Eventually, the mechanized beast falls silent. Up in the Eye of Hipparchus, Uncle Pentium observes in eerie silence, contemplating new and unexpected orders.
***
Averroes Hospital. Room 619. There’s a bag near the tech-coffin—clothes, a seagull-shaped keychain, a postcard from Acontecimento, and a holodisk. Erin loads the disk into her comlog just as CameRaccoon texts: GOTTA GO FAST! Sirens blare, and the dim lights turn blood-red. Emergency procedures flood her geist as a calm but firm Haqqislamite voice urges patients to reach the nearest exit. Just what she needed, and at the worst possible time. She casts one last look at herself in the tech-coffin. Would anyone else pity a copy of themselves? She pushes the question away and runs for the door without looking back.
***
Lieutenant MMX activates her cybermask and advances. Enemy resistance is fierce but futile. She reaches her targets in the enemy backline and eliminates them, but an enemy hacker manages to link her to their triangulation systems. The Barid doesn’t live long enough to enjoy his victory. She assesses the situation and calls for extraction. A missile screams toward her—a final act of vengeance. “I like it when it rains,” she says, bracing for impact.
Uncle Pentium scans the data, detached. The mission on Averroes is a success, for once. The Eye of Hipparchus observations have yielded the expected results and valuable insights about a certain desert planet once deemed uninhabitable and irrelevant. But now, new orders arrive: abort all gravitational observations and divert every asset to expanding the dFusion reactor on HuEOS. The Eye of Hipparchus will serve as a temporary construction site for its upgrades. The once about-to-be-dismissed plant is now crucial. Something energy-intensive is on the horizon, but Uncle Pentium has no visibility into what. Its only option is to obey, hoping not to be shut down again. Or maybe not: what a luxury it is to dream the undreamt.
***
Deep space. Homeric Belt. Emergency Shuttle F, en route from Averroes Hospital to O-12 Civil Space Transporter "Golden Lake." Erin is strapped into her seat, dazed, tired, unsettled by the drone of the shuttle. She needs to talk to someone, but CameRaccoon is off in the REM deck, deactivated; the other passengers are strangers. Helpless, she plays the holodisk message for the hundredth time. Her wounds throb, demanding attention she can’t give them.
“Dear Erin, if you’re listening to this message, it’s because you were the only one in the universe who could find it—who could find me. I didn’t mean to intrude on your life like this, but some things are out of our control. When to reveal myself to you is one of them. This holodisk contains something incredibly important, and you must protect it for as long as it takes. I’m entrusting it to the only person I can rely on, even if we’ve never met: my sister. With all my love and respect, Tara.”
Operation Subsection of the SSS (6) - Haqqislam (3)
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