Reborn as a Spaceship

I had expected resistance by now or at least a cease-and-desist from a mid-tier planetary government, a polite but threatening visit from a corporate envoy, or perhaps a discreet inquiry from a back-channel Alliance representative. Instead, we faced silence. Not even a whisper.

This quiet could only mean one of two things: either they already knew the activation criteria for Telk and were certain we couldn't meet it, or they were simply waiting. Watching. Allowing our mismatched crew to stumble into activating it for them. I wasn't naive enough to think we were perfectly safe, but I felt confident our current measures would hold, well for now, at least.

The real problem wasn't security; it was personnel. That's why I found myself stepping through the reinforced doors into Bob's custom-built habitat, the immense aquatic tank designed specifically for his Aquasapien biology. Calling it a "room" was inadequate. It was more like a small artificial ocean, complete with currents and carefully balanced mineral composition, a costly testament to our commitment to accommodating all forms of life.

Bob was swimming lazy loops, his long eel-like form gliding effortlessly through the artificial currents, while multiple appendages manipulated a puzzle cube with idle precision. He noticed me immediately, drifting close to the transparent barrier separating us, one large eye examining me curiously.

"You saw it," I began without preamble. "Down at the bottom."

"I saw it," Bob confirmed through his translator, his voice resonating calmly. "So, is this the part where I get disappeared?"

I laughed, caught off guard. He didn't share my amusement. "Rumors say humans have a reputation for keeping their secrets at all costs," he elaborated.

I met his eyes directly, earnestness replacing my earlier humor. "Maybe that's true for some. But that's not who I am. That's not who we are."

He studied me quietly, letting the cube drop gently from his grasp. "Then why are you here?"

"Because I need your help," I said simply. "We need the pre-Telk mapped, surveyed, studied meticulously. I need to know if it's rare or abundant, if it's reactive, and what conditions trigger its transformation. In short, I need you and your people to help us understand exactly what we've discovered."

Bob remained quiet, then moved closer. "I would need a team."

"How many?"

"At least one hundred and fifty," he responded instantly, then hesitated. "But I'm no fool. A secret like this won't stay hidden with numbers that large. Even with careful screening, word will leak."

"Then what do you propose?"

He considered it thoughtfully. "I know perhaps ten specialists among my people who have no families, no strong ties, no reason to stay. People who would willingly choose a second chance, even if it means never leaving this planet."

I nodded, respecting the gravity of the offer. "If you can convince them, we'll transport them here safely. But you should know that once we leave this system, the dimensional safeguards won't function without us."

"I anticipated that," Bob replied confidently. "The design you provided can be adapted easily for us. With layered pressure hulls and ballast compartments, we can replicate similar protection. It's not elegant, but it'll work. It's an advantage of living in the water"

"Then make it happen," I said firmly. He gave me a slow nod, already shifting mental gears to planning logistics.

I left Bob's habitat, satisfied for now, and walked back toward the command lounge. The Arbiter hummed around me, the familiar rhythm calming my nerves. This ship was home in every way except I was still tethered to it, an observer to the outside universe rather than an active participant.

Entering the lounge, I found the rest of the crew already gathered. Kel stood near the holo-table, sipping tea, Mira lounged casually with her feet propped up on a console, and Stewie sat cross-legged, absorbed in yet another schematic. Laia hovered nearby, her presence radiating curiosity, and Wayfarer's consciousness pulsed gently against the observation window like distant waves.

Stolen story; please report.

I started the meeting, "We need to decide, our next steps. Bob has agreed to help us with this planet"

"Are we expecting trouble?" Kel asked cautiously, leaning back against the console, arms crossed in a casual posture that didn't quite hide his tension. He'd only recently discovered exactly how valuable our new find was after Stewie hit yet another design snag and we were forced to loop in Bob and the Aquasapiens. We were still trying to hide it from the main station. I was sure Jack knew already but that's ok.

"Eventually, yes," I admitted. "Right now, though, the silence we're getting from the big players is deliberate. They either think we're harmless amateurs stumbling around out here, or they're patiently waiting for us to do the hard work and to trigger whatever it is they couldn't figure out."

Kel's brow furrowed. "And when we do?"

"They'll come for it." I paused, letting that sink in around the room. Mira fidgeted slightly, her eyes flicking toward Stewie, who was trying and failing to act like this conversation didn't concern him. Laia's typically unreadable avatar shifted subtly.

"But we can't just sit here waiting," I continued, moving forward slightly, palms open. "We need specialists like Bob's team. Ten Aquasapiens, quiet, experienced, capable of keeping secrets. They'll establish something permanent down in the trench."

"They won't ever leave, will they?" Mira asked softly, her voice barely louder than a whisper. The quiet sadness in it caught me by surprise. she understood what we were asking of them.

"They know that," I said gently, meeting her eyes directly. "Bob will make sure they understand. In return, we'll give them a home of their own. A proper facility, safe, stable—permanent."

I turned toward Kel, meeting his eyes squarely. "I'll need someone here to oversee it all. You interested? I know you'd planned on staying with Lynn."

Kel hesitated, visibly conflicted, glancing briefly at the viewport and the stars beyond. Then he straightened, jaw tightening with quiet resolve. "Lynn's deep into her train project and Darren. Honestly, she probably wouldn't even notice if I wasn't there for a while." He shrugged with practised nonchalance. "Yeah. Count me in. but I will need some help"

From overhead, Wayfarer's deep voice resonated, the ship's interior subtly vibrating with his words. "And protection? If your predictions are accurate, our current defences won't suffice when the time comes."

"We need more people," Laia interjected calmly, her avatar's translucent form flickering slightly. "Protection in numbers, we should make this place something closer to an empire outpost than a research outpost."

I shook my head firmly, pushing away the thought. "No. I'm not looking to build an army—we couldn't compete with major powers even if we tried. I want a different solution. Something subtle, something smarter." I let out a slow breath, eyes shifting back to the blue-green glow of the planet below. "I want to find a way to isolate this entire system. Cut it off completely, if necessary. Make it impossible for anyone else to take what's ours. For that, I think we need to look at the architect data vault and to do that we need an expert, someone familiar with precursor technology."

"That's a very short list," Wayfarer rumbled thoughtfully.

"Then we start our search immediately," I said. "With luck, this expert might help us understand the data or at least point us toward technology capable of protecting this system without needing an army."

The crew sobered at that, each silently acknowledging that claiming a Telk-rich world had put us squarely in the crosshairs.

"And what about the living metal?" Mira asked, leaning forward eagerly.

"We've done what we can," I admitted. "Effort can't substitute for expertise. We need someone specialised in exotic materials."

"I might know a lab, Bob talked endlessly about them when trying to convince us we needed every rare alloy in existence," Stewie volunteered cautiously. "They do unconventional research, and might have the kind of specialist we need."

"Good," I said, "Send the information back to the station so they can start the vetting process and see if they can be useful."

Laia drifted closer, her form flickering with anticipation. "I have a third goal."

I turned to her. "Let's hear it."

"I've decoded enough from the NeuroGenesis comm logs and my own fragmented memories," she began carefully, excitement barely restrained, "to locate their primary genetic laboratory. It's still operational, hidden away, filled with original data."

The silence afterward stretched taut until Kel broke it. "And your plan?"

"A heist," Laia replied simply. "We infiltrate, extract the data, uncover origins of everything and perhaps even find the means to create a genuine body for Lazarus or extend T'lish life."

Mira's quiet gasp filled the silence. Kel shook his head slowly, Stewie stared openly. The idea resonated deeply with me, stirring that persistent longing I'd carefully kept buried—the desire for true physical freedom, a body of my own. But responsibility outweighed desire.

"It's tempting," I finally admitted, "and aligns perfectly with my personal goals. But we can't leave this system undefended."

Laia nodded. "I expected that."

"But we'll get there," I promised softly.

Then looking directly at Laia, "We need an architect expert and the only ones I can think of is your people Laia. We will go visit your home and get them to analyse the data fault"

Wayfarer's hum echoed thoughtfully. "An origin, a destination, and a catalyst. Interesting."

"It always is," Mira murmured, grinning slightly and tossing a cushion at Stewie, who'd returned to sketching.

The meeting dissolved naturally, the crew dispersing to their tasks with familiar ease, laughter and idle chatter filling the spaces between. It felt warm, relaxed, purposeful a family in all but name.