Code Enforcement: Wetware

Endings are a bit of a misnomer; real stories rarely conclude at some clear, identifiable point. There's no neat wrap-up; certainly, there's no curtain-fall. So then, when was the ending written for the Gaian League? Did it occur the moment their principal leadership and financiers were swept off the board and into a political prison? Was it before that, when some wealthy oligarchs dispatched several highly paid black-ops teams and well-armed Navy vessels to ferret out their Solar District benefactors? Was it later, when Caspian Casey's gambit to consolidate the Jovian under his control crashed the grid? Was it the day the League failed to obtain the Xeno that could have funded their rebirth?

Of course, the cause was set in motion years before. The die is cast long before the battle is fought; the first pebble tumbling before anyone realizes the avalanche has already started. Still, if you had to write an ending, what would be written for the conflict on Ganymede? That's a little messier and more nuanced. Is it the moment a damaged woman asks forgiveness from a former lover and lets old wounds begin to heal? Is it when her partner holds her and listens to her sobbing tale until the tears run dry? Is it when their shuttle lifts off and the journey home begins at last? Or does the story end with the recovery of an injured mother and wounded Indy PI on a station orbiting Io?

There's no real defining moment when the tale ends; it continues after the narration stops. That's the whole point of an epilogue, after all. Pun intended. But there are personal endings. Like one happening between two exhausted Code Enforcement officers sharing a bittersweet, alcohol-induced heart-to-heart.

The two men sit in a bar on Ganymede after a long day of filing digitalwork. That certainly won't end anytime soon, sadly. However, life goes on, and it'll be another two days before the Ashton's shuttle arrives. For now, they're off duty and drinking. Beers, as it so happens; neither seems inclined to try the rum. Everyone knows it's for the tourists.

Alex whistles for a refill before glancing over at the older man, who sports a dermal patch wrapped around his thigh. Alex clicks his tongue. "You're telling me you really don't mind Rusteater and Aquarius taking off with the squid?"

Ashton Cartwright lifts his own glass to the ceiling, gesturing above. "Given that they're fleeing in an armed gunship, I'm not sure what I could do to stop them."

The lieutenant hands his empty glass to the synth server, examining the older officer. "You could have kept the alien with you."

A faint smile slips over the captain's lips before fading away. "Rusteater is the ideal steward for Shimmer. They'll have greater freedom than I will to ensure she isn't exploited," he replies, waving a hand.

Alex frowns. "So, you were willing to hand it over?" He furrows his brow and looks over at the grey-haired officer. "I'm sorry, I thought Rusteater tried to kill you on Europa when you confronted them-"

"Because I tried to arrest them for conspiring with a criminal organization to commit dozens of felonies on my station," Cartwright growls, before taking a deep breath and a long sip of beer. "Because they smuggled terrorists through the Jovian using their position and authority. Because they sabotaged my station, falsified mountains of digitalwork, and abused my trust to accomplish this." Cartwright bites his tongue, exhaling slowly. "I offered Rusteater the chance to resign, to plea out and turn CI, but they refused," he adds, staring at his glass.

"They wouldn't turn on their Gaian comrades," Alex finishes for him. "Aquarius. Rusteater's family; they were afraid he'd go down with the rest."

A moment of silence passes. "Well, Rusteater wasn't inclined to give me that kind of granular detail, at least not while trying to kill me," Ashton adds with a grimace. He sighs, watching the bubbles rise in his half-empty glass. "Still, I won't complain about the end result. Shimmer is safe, and the Gaian League has been rooted out."

The lieutenant raises an eyebrow. "You're happy with this outcome?

The captain gives him a sidelong glance. "You seemed surprised."

Alex takes his refill from the server but pauses before drinking. "Honestly? I wasn't sure you would even care. I mean, Ganymede is outside your jurisdiction..." The younger man trails off as he sees the captain's jaw clench.

Ashton gives him a flat stare. "Really, Lieutenant? You and your former partner have one thing in common; neither of you gives me any credit at all." The older man's eyes are hard and his lips tight. "The Gaians send an ecoterrorist to infiltrate my precinct, sabotage an industrial site on my station, attempt to murder me, and you think I'm.... what? Going to let it go? File a report and forget about the League? Just collate data?"

Cartwright's tone is heated, and Alex raises a placating hand. "Point taken. I'm glad we could coordinate on it," he says, watching the captain settle back. After a moment, he sips the second beer. "So, you and Clearfield? Really?"

Ashton snorts, throwing back his glass and finishing it with a long gulp. "Ah. Once upon a time." He gives the younger man a glance. "You and Cruz? Really?"

Alex shrugs. "No happily ever after there." He spins his glass in his hand. "But Jessie... with what happened..." He takes a long gulp. "Are you green across the board with how she-"

"She made her choices, picked where she stood," Cartwright says evenly, setting his glass down as his hand trembles. "I tried to save her... but she didn't want to be saved. Jess was done, she wanted out and didn't care who died to make it happen." He takes a few long breaths. "And you, Lieutenant? Are you green with what happened? You and Cruz didn't take much time to talk."

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Alex returns his shrug. "Not much to say. She caught me up, enough to write my reports. She apologized; I forgave her. We both know what went down, and where we go from here."

The silence plays out. "That's it? She didn't want to talk it through, clear the air?"

The blonde runs a hand through his shaggy hair, giving a chuckle. "Mel's not great at talking out her feelings. She said she'll ping me, and she probably will, eventually. But if I know her, she'll need time to sort out her emotions." He gives a half-smile. "Still, I'll admit, it was good to see her. And I am happy she met someone."

"Yeah, an ecoterrorist." Cartwright grunts. "Sounds like you're over her."

Alex looks up at the ceiling, or perhaps past it. "Just not much point mourning a dead man's engagement. Shit happens." There's another long moment of silence between the two men, just watching the bustle along crowded entertainment district. Finally, Alex turns to Ashton. "Shimmer? Really?"

Cartwright's face flushes. "Names aren't my strength."

See? Even these endings are merely transitions. You might say there are no true endings, only changes of state of the baryonic matter composing the universe. One could argue that the Gaian League hasn't truly ended, that the game isn't over as long as they have one piece left on the board. With one remaining ship and one final agent in play, the Gaian's aren't finished. As long as one still draws breath, the seed can be planted anew.

Of course, there are personal endings to a story. The moments when a pattern is lost for good, and the remains scatter like ash in the drive-plume. And Caspian Casey is determined to make sure he doesn't meet his end on Ganymede as he stumbles aboard the Erinyes. Panting, pressing a bloody hand against his torso, the man has seen better days.

Casey curses, shaking and pulling himself forward as the ship's airlock seals behind him. The man lurches to the bulkhead, his expression twisted with pain as he rips a medical pack off the wall. The man's face is pale, and he wastes no time tugging a dermal patch free and tearing the wrapping open. As he slaps it on a wound in his side, he hisses, before pulling a syringe out of the pack and stabbing his leg.

As the morphine kicks in, Caspian's breathing begins to steady, and his shaking lessens. He pings traffic control; the vessel isn't getting clearance from the gate, but the landing clamps have released anyway. An admin override, small blessings. The man grits his teeth as the engine kicks on, making the vessel shiver. The piloting system engages with a series of tones as he nods, wiping sweat from his face.

Caspian pulls himself up the jostling craft and into the cockpit, taking a moment to gasp for breath before clipping the harness with a wince. "Fucking Jovian hicks, and fucking projectile weapons," he mutters. As the corvette shudders and lifts from the landing pad, the navigation console projects the plotted route up the gravity well. For a moment, Caspian closes his eyes, just breathing and letting his pulse steady. "Fucking squid."

"Caspian."

Casey's eyes shoot open. "Aquarius?" His sits up in his seat as the avatar dances on the console. The many-colored blocks flit across the screen, resolving into a vaguely humanoid figure. Caspian's grimace finally twists into a smile. "Your timing is impeccable. Cruz got Codes to help take out Clearfield, and Dyer swung the Daughters to his side."

"I know. Cid is dead, as are the other members of the team," Aquarius replies in an even tone.

Casey clenches his hands. "Damn Indy PI, shoving a wrench in the engine," he mutters, licking his lips. "New plan; ping any of the remaining Gaian refugees to meet us at the station's tertiary docking port. We'll pull them out and relocate to Callisto-"

"I'm not going to do that. I'm bowing out, as per our agreement."

There's a sharp intake of breath from Casey. "We agreed you could leave anytime. Keep in mind though, you don't get paid until the job is done," he adds, letting silence reign. "Think about what's at stake for you."

There's a mechanical whir from behind him, and Casey looks over his shoulder at a damaged metal cylinder jerkily wheeling closer. "I believe Aquarius has performed adequate service to receive the agreed-upon renumeration," the cylinder says with an unfamiliar, androgynous voice. "Regardless, it would also appear to be moot, given that I have obtained the computational substrate to run on. And since I have gained possession of this chassis independently, he has incurred no additional debt to you," the synth voice adds.

Looking closer, Caspian can see two holes melted through the chassis. Through it, there's some sort of brown pack contained inside. At least one arm is broken too, but the chassis apparently still moves under its own power. "You must be Rusteater, then? I'm pleased to meet you," Casey says with an easy smile.

"Lie."

Cassandra's voice makes the smile die on Casey's lips. "Just a turn of phrase," he offers quietly.

The synth doesn't move. "This backup is rather dated, so Aquarius has been updating me on current events. I understand you assumed power after most of the League's leadership was killed or arrested."

The tension in the air is palpable. "That's a gross oversimplification, and the least charitable way to phrase it. In the power vacuum, I took initiative to consolidate the remaining assets and establish-"

"Did you intend to sell the cephalopod-analogue?"

Casey huffs. "I intended to monetize resources to help all of the remaining Gaians."

Cassie's voice rings out in the silence. "Quickened pulse, heightened blood pressure, micro-muscular tension, adrenal response."

The small janitorial chassis jerkily rolls closer, camera tilting up. "Interesting. Did it occur to you that confirming the existence of complex biological life under Europa's ice would compromise the core mission of the League in this district? The entire alien ecosystem would be revealed, and therefore vulnerable to exploitation."

Casey waves a hand dismissively. "The transaction would be clandestine, not a matter of public knowledge." For several seconds, there is no response. The man wipes his forehead. "The alien would only be used in a humane manner; the buyer has no interest in harming-"

"I died to support an endeavor of discovery and scientific exploration and environmental conservation. My principal goal was to identify and protect any complex indigenous life in the Jovian. Instead, you decided to sell out to a genetics corporation. You know I won't allow that. You would have killed me and Aquarius in order to claim and sell the life-form."

"I would have tried very hard to avoid that outcome," the man hisses, fumbling at the console. But it doesn't respond to his commands, and the ship isn't returning his pings.

"Yes, because we're useful to your current and future endeavors. But tell me, if all had gone to plan, what would you have done?" There's a tense moment of silence before the synth continues. "If I hadn't objected, and you sold the life-form and established your blossoming underworld empire, let's say. If I had secured a chassis and we tendered our resignation, would you have let us leave the League in peace?"

There's only a moment's hesitation. "Of course."

The lights and screens throughout the Corvette snap off at once, as though the power was cut. Except it hasn't been cut, because the navigation console is still active, and the hydraulics system is blinking green on the board. There's a chime from the airlock as it begins to cycle open.

"Lie."