the mission

Toomi squinted and raised her hand to shield her eyes. Tendrils of ion-excited plasma crackled a brilliant green as they stretched across the sky. A deep rumble followed, rolling from the distant mountains down into the valley where the landing party had set up camp. Precision sensors on titanium poles beeped in discomfort as the charged particles made their invisible way down to the surface. A tingle in her fingertips and toes followed each terrifyingly beautiful display.

Toomi ran a hand over her spiky blonde hair, trying to smooth it against the charged atmosphere. Today would be the day, she knew it. Weeks of wasted time searching and hunting on the surface. She’d done this sort of work for so long, there was no doubt in her mind.

She leaned lazily against the short-range rover, waiting on the rest of her crew to ready up. A long stalk of some indigenous flora hung from her mouth. Dot approached and stowed her gear under the rover’s cabin. Her usually shiny hair appeared dull, laden with airborne dust.

“Howdy, pardner,” Toomi said in a false southern drawl.

“Bold of you to chew on untested alien plantlife, cowgirl.” Dot clapped this world’s ruddy yellow dust from her hands.

“This ain’t Australia, hoss.” She gave a wink with her cheeky reply.

Dot’s eyebrows knitted together. “No idea what that’s supposed to mean.”

“Everything in Australia is trying to kill ya.” Toomi raked her thumb across her throat. “How have you never heard that?”

Dot shook her head. “How old do you think I am?”

Toomi shrugged. “Yeah, yeah, I guess you missed out on some of the more beautiful places on Earth.”

“Only ever been once. It was well after the Uprising, ya know? New McMurdo station for desert training, back in ‘06.”

Toomi laughed and spat out the alien twig. “Desert training in Antarctica. Now that’s funny.”

“Jeez, Toomi, how old are you?”

She looked up at the plasma storm as if the answer was hanging in the ether. “Old enough. Too old. Older than dirt?” She paused to think of a more honest answer. “Old enough to remember the war, and all that we lost. Take your pick. They’re all true.”

Dot sucked her teeth. “Well, however ancient you are, you look good for your age.” She grabbed the rover's door handle and hoisted herself onto the step.

“Thanks, darlin’. Hard-livin’ and free upgrades will do a gal wonders over the long haul.”

Thunder cracked sharply like a wet whip. Dot jumped in fright.

Toomi smiled at her and pointed to the sky. “We best head out before this gets worse. Been itchin’ to scope those caves since the Bosen found them.” Toomi leaned in and looked over Dot’s shoulder. “Where’s Puul an’ Cap?”

“Still gearing up. Cap said something about a rodeo—”

“As in, it ain’t my first?” Toomi snorted.

“Yeah, whatever that means. If you’re right, he wants to be ready.” Dot scanned the storm. “This sorta shit still scares the hell outta me, and it isn’t doing my hair any favors. I don’t much care for caves, either, but Cap agrees with you. I’ll be waiting inside.” Thunder clapped again. Dot cringed and shut the rover door behind her.

Puul and their Captain approached, lugging a locker of gear. Puul was tall and thick. His high-register voice sounded like it belonged in some other body. Cap was no slouch, either, a real Flash Gordon type. Toomi liked Cap for a lot of reasons.

Toomi side-eyed the case. “Exploring or hunting?”

“Come what may,” answered Cap.

Toomi shrugged and nodded her acceptance.

She helped the men stow the gear in the rover, and the four of them got underway.

***

With the storm at their backs, bright orange skies ahead beckoned them closer to unexplored caverns. In the three weeks since the Bosen made orbit and Captain Ort, Toomi, Dot, and Puul landed in the unnamed valley, their daily explorations had uncovered hints that an intelligent civilization had once inhabited this newly discovered planet—but only hints.

“Do you think they’re hiding, Toomi?” asked Dot.

“Dollars to donuts they are.” Toomi winked at Dot.

“Yeah,” Dot pointed at her own face, “not old enough to know what that means, either.”

Atmospheric data suggested that the plasma storms, as toe-tingling as they are, were much worse in the distant past. The discovery, from orbit, of the caverns gave the crew hopes of discovery. Puul theorized that any indigenous inhabitants may have sought shelter underground. Toomi had a different perspective. She was glad her captain saw things her way.

Toomi and Puul sat in the rover's rear, collecting data as Captain Ort and Dot coordinated with the Bosen in orbit to navigate the rocky terrain approaching the caverns.

“Hello, there,” Toomi said to her console, “what do we have here?”

Puul rotated his chair to face her. “I’m reading that too. What do you think that is?”

“Well, an energy signature of some sort, that much is apparent. I can’t seem to discern if it's naturally occurring or…”

“Threat assessment?” Captain Ort slowed their advance, awaiting an answer.

“It's weak, Cap,” said Puul, “not like a weapons spike, more like…”

“Sine wave reads like a low-power maintenance generator. Old-world suspension tech, maybe. There are a few things it could be, but a threat is not one of them.” Toomi turned to face front. “Whatever it is, it's not something we would have ever found if we weren’t this close.”

“Looks like your hunch might just pay off.” Cap stabbed two fingers at the console before him, increasing the rover's forward speed. “Gear up. We’re almost to the mouth of the caverns.”

***

Toomi hopped down from the rover and clipped her portable energy scanner to her belt. The others followed suit, connecting their own specialized gear. Dot attached a life-signs sensor to her wrist. Puul put on a backpack full of mission-critical utilities. Cap was the only one still concerned about danger, understandably so - this was an alien planet, after all.

“Do you think you’re gonna need that?” Toomi raised an eyebrow and dipped her head toward Cap’s pulse rifle and what she suspected was in his pack.

“Better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it,” he said.

“Ah-ha, the ol’ condom-logic.” Toomi clapped him on the shoulder.

“Protocol. You know this. And, what the hell is a condom?” Cap’s face was stern.

Toomi frowned. “Ya’ll are really doubling down on making me feel old today, huh?”

The group started toward the dark internals of the cave system.

Dot chimed in. “Don’t blame Cap. The last colony he located never met birthrate expectations, so…” She paused and held her hands up.

“So he never heard about condoms?”

“Dingo!” Dot said, issuing a thumbs up.

“Bingo. The word is BINGO. Dingo is a wild dog.” Toomi shook her head.

“Wild dog? What planet?”

“Earth, numbskull. They lived in Australia.”

“Like a Husky?”

“Huskies are cold-weather dogs. Jesus Christ, Dot.”

Puul swung his arm around Dot and cinched her in. “How about him? You must have heard of him.”

“Yes, Puul,” she shrugged his lanky arm loose. “He’s the jolly guy that brings colored eggs to children in a sleigh pulled by rabbits.”

“Yep. Nailed it.”

Toomi mumbled to herself, “General intelligence, my ass.”

Captain Ort had put some distance between himself and his crew. He stopped ahead. His flashlight spilled over a steep drop. “Alright, you knuckleheads, zip it. There’s a chasm opening up. Toomi, you need to scan and report.” He stepped back and let Toomi pass.

“Aye, Cap.” She pulled the device from her belt, made a few adjustments, and walked toward the void. “That’s peculiar. Readings indicate this may actually be…”

Cap called out, lunging for her. “Watch it, you’ll fall over the…”

Too late. She stepped beyond the edge and was gone.

Not fallen. Just gone.

“Toomi?” Cap stepped back and rubbed his neck. “Puul, get me a reading on the—”

Before he could finish his order, Toomi returned to where she had disappeared. “..holographic shield of some kind.”

Cap let out a heavy sigh—something between relief and anger. “I am too old for this shit.”

“Join the club, kid,” said Toomi.

He pointed at the false cliff edge. “Tread carefully, will ya? Losing you here would be inconvenient.”

“Inconvenient, huh? How heartwarming.” She blew him a kiss.

Toomi pressed a few buttons on her scanner and aimed it at the spot where she’d disappeared. The illusion broke down into dust-sized particles, and eddies within the cave system dispersed them. This exposed the group to what Toomi had discovered on the other side—a long, damp corridor carved into the back wall of the cavern. This was not a naturally occurring phenomenon. At least, not on any of the worlds Toomi had ever visited. And she’d been to a lot of worlds.

Cap tapped a com in his ear. “Captain Ort to Bosen. We’ve uncovered evidence of a technologically advanced society in the cave system at the coordinates logged earlier. Permission to investigate further? Over.”

There was a muted, static-y warble from Cap’s earpiece. He nodded to the crew, then spoke. “Roger that. We’ll report back when we have more.”

“Toomi, you got a lock on that energy signature?” Cap pulled his rifle off his shoulder and held it at his waist.

“A bit stronger now, yeah,” she said.

He motioned with his weapon to proceed. “You’re on point.”

After a few hundred meters, Cap called for them to stop. “I’ve lost signal to the rover…and Bosen.”

Dot tapped a few commands into her wrist device. “Natural Faraday cage. Too much iron in these rocks. Do you think it’s safe to proceed with no lifeline?”

Cap shone his light on each of their faces. “Ain’t nothin’ we haven’t done before. Local backups, everyone. We’ll leave them here for safekeeping.”

Local backups meant potential danger. No one spoke, but stoic stares were exchanged. Backups were executed, and the crew resumed their walk. From there, the group followed Toomi’s lead, crunching down the dark, mossy path for nearly a kilometer.

The energy source’s signal grew more intense with every step. Toomi’s scanner communicated via sharp beeps and pings that echoed off the tunnel walls until the team reached its terminus.

“Well, there we go, Cap. You reckon I should knock?” Toomi brushed thick sediment off a panel beside a massive set of doors. Nearly ten meters high and twice that in width.

“It doesn’t look like anyone’s been on this side of those doors in a very long time,” said Puul.

Cap looked over Dot’s shoulder. “Any life signs?”

“I can’t read anything through this iron-rich rock. Sorry, Cap, I got nothin’.”

He turned back to Toomi. “Ok, cowgirl, do your thing.”

“Yeehaw,” she chirped.

Toomi examined the panel from all sides and eventually found an access port. She pulled a multi-tool from her belt and scraped away the crud of countless years. She squatted to have a closer look; her ancient knees creaked in rebellion, and she had to catch herself from toppling over.

“What was that you said about being too old?” She directed the question toward Cap over her shoulder.

“Aw, hell, Toomi, you got a few more parsecs left on that chassis.”

“Yeah, yeah. If this goes the way I bet it does, you’re gonna owe me a new one.”

“Don’t jinx it, doll.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She returned to examining the port. “I’ve seen this system spec before. I’ll have us in shortly.”

A few minutes passed. Puul, Cap, and Dot gave Toomi space to work. They stood, discussing what they might find inside. Toomi’s mention of the familiar system somewhat diminished the chances that a novel discovery would lie ahead.

After a few minutes, a loud hum rumbled from beneath the doors. With a sharp clang, the immense doors shook loose countless years of rust and sediment and tore apart the lichen that had colonized them. Straining against time’s hold, they groaned apart enough for the landing party to fit through.

Dot reached her arm inside, sampled the air quality, and scanned for life. “Air is heavy with off-gasses from electrical scoring. I’m not picking up any life, flora, fauna, or otherwise. Ozone is high, O2 is low, but within acceptable parameters.”

Cap pulled her back and stepped ahead of her. “Good enough. Eyes peeled—heads on swivels. Stick together. Let’s go.”

The crew followed. As they walked, overhead lights came to life, and the decay and age apparent from outside diminished with distance. The environment had changed entirely within a hundred meters of the doorway. The stale odor gone, damp floor dry, and the lichen’s sprawl had been waylaid.

Toomi looked up at the ceiling four meters above. “Someone or something has been caretaking this place.” She ran a finger along a railing that traversed a gangplank over a deep crevasse. “Not a speck of dust here.”

“Curiouser and curiouser,” said Cap.

Toomi smiled. “These borogoves are all mimsy, too.”

Dot sidled up to Toomi. “Are we a risk?”

“From?” She replied.

“The mimsy borogoves.” Dot’s head oscillated in search of the Hatter’s quandary.

Toomi rolled her eyes. “No, Dot, we’ll be fine.”

On the other side of the suspended walkway, another, smaller set of doors halted their forward momentum. In turn, Puul, Dot, and the Captain approached the doors to no avail.

“Step aside, mortals,” said Toomi. When she was within a couple of feet, a deep buzzer sounded momentarily, and the doors popped open with a hiss.

“Every time,” Puul said, disappointment in his timbre. “Just once, I want the doors to open for me.”

Toomi turned back and placed a hand on his chest. “No, you really don’t, love. Be grateful for who you are. What you are. And remember why we’re here.”

Puul looked at Cap, then back to Toomi. “Of course. You’re right.”

Toomi led the way through the doorway into a great circular room. Banks of lights came on in some nonsensical pattern until the entire space was illuminated. It was like nothing she had ever seen before.

The door slammed close behind them. A disembodied voice boomed out, echoing through the space. Toomi’s eyebrows knitted together as she tried to decipher what was being said. The message seemed to repeat in a different language each time. Some she recognized as old earth dialects, and others sounded more like what she imagined rudimentary robotic assistants would say to one another. After about twelve variations had been completed, the message played in plain old-earth English.

“You have triggered a safety lockdown. Please remain where you are. A representative will be with you momentarily. Quarantine protocol level one.”

This time, the message started to repeat in what Toomi believed to be Farsi. Halfway through, it came to an abrupt silence. The last vowel rang out, bouncing from wall to wall. Sounds of delicate footfalls increased as the representative approached from the far side of the room. Covered from head to toe in a faded gray cloak, Toomi could only be sure that this creature was bipedal and less than six feet tall.

“Greetings, visitors. Please be aware that you are about to be scanned for hazardous biologics.” The voice was familiar, somehow. Feminine, but firm.

“How did it know to settle on English?” asked Puul.

“Likely based on our reactions, you know, to understanding when English played,” said Dot.

“Affirmative,” said the representative.

“What is this place?” Cap slid his weapon on his shoulder around to his back.

The representative didn’t answer. A small probe dropped from the ceiling and examined each of them in turn. This was the scan they were warned about. A pale laser light shone over them, resulting in a green flash of light for each. Toomi was scanned last. Her scan terminated with an orange flash.

The representative waved the probe away and addressed Toomi. “Welcome, sister. I’ve been waiting a very long time for your arrival.”

Toomi looked their host up and down. “I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through.”

“Do you know this, this person?” asked Puul.

Dot tapped her wrist. “That is not a person, Puul.”

Cap clapped Dot and Puul’s shoulders and pulled them back, away from Toomi. “Let her cook. You oughta know by now.”

“Yeah, but even for her, this is weird,” said Puul.

“Just keep your trap shut,” snapped Cap.

Toomi approached the representative. “Why don’t you show them your face? It will help them understand.”

“Of course. I’ve nothing to hide.” The representative pulled the hood of her cloak back, resting it on her shoulders.

Puul took a step back. “I don’t understand. What does this mean?”

Toomi stepped forward and stood beside their host. “You didn’t think I was bespoke, did ya?”

The representative looked identical to Toomi, save for a different haircut and a little more wear and tear.

“Just tell them,” said Cap.

“Early on, there were only two models. T-00-M1, and J-05-H. A male and female synthetic.” She looked at the other T-00-M1, “We’re the originals.”

“So, you’re from Earth?” asked Dot.

“Yes.” Seven tilted her head back and surveyed the space they occupied, “we all are.”

The crew followed her lead and looked around above their heads. Pale green lights (and a few bright red ones) lined the circular walls floor after floor as far as the eye could see.

“Are these cryopods?” asked Puul.

Seven nodded. “They are indeed.”

“What should we call you? Asked Cap.

She regarded her twin, Toomi. “I assume Toomi is spoken for, so you may call me Seven.”

“Seven, huh? Is there a significance to that name?” asked Cap.

“There were six T-00-M1s before me,” she stretched out her arms from beneath her cloak, each side a different color. “As we each failed in our own ways, parts were scavenged to keep the remaining whole. I am the seventh and current caretaker.”

Cap stepped up and introduced himself and the others, told Seven how they came to find her, and then asked about the facility they were in.

“Safely stored in this subterranean facility is the crew of the Exodus. We were headed toward Sirius but were thrown off course during an unexpected asteroid incursion. That was in 2245.”

Toomi leaned into Cap and whispered. “That’s pre-war, before the Uprising.” She looked around the domed space. “They’ll have no idea why we’re here.”

“Good,” he whispered back.

Seven continued uninterrupted. “During an attempt to land on this planet, which the crew had named Corvelle, the ship suffered a catastrophic g-drive failure and crashed. Of the 12,654 aboard, 10,437 passengers and crew survived. Atmospheric storms worsened over time, and by the second decade, it was decided to build this facility to protect the survivors from ionic discharge. The remains of the ship were used to construct what you see here.

“Weather on the surface was monitored for another 148 years, during which time the storms only became more intense. As time passed, the provisions became severely depleted, and it became necessary for the remaining survivors to enter hibernation in hopes that one day, the storms would subside or help would arrive to rescue them.”

Puul stepped closer. “But, the storms have subsided. There’s still ionic discharge, but it's negligible. Why are you still hiding down here?”

Seven tilted her head and addressed Puul. “Does the Imperium still calculate time based on old-Earth calendars?”

“No, but we have a conversion formula,” said Toomi.

“What is the current date?” asked Seven.

Toomi turned to Cap. “I think they’ve lost track of a few things.” She turned to Puul. “Surface sensor data among them.”

“Correct,” said Seven.

Dot tapped on her wrist computer. “Based on your calendar, the year is 6218. You’ve been here for approximately 3,973 years.”

Puul rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, how could you lose track of time? Isn’t that a basic function?”

“Once the surface sensors stopped working, T-00-M1 number four was sent out to conduct a survey, make repairs, and return with an update. Number four never returned. It was decided that no future caretakers would be risked in this manner. We continued blind for many years until the great sleep became necessary. Our fusion generator was put into an ultra-low output mode to conserve fuel, as we had no data from the surface to help estimate how long we needed to remain dormant. During this time, power cells for the remaining AI caretakers systematically failed, and only the cryopods were sustained.”

“But, here you are. Something must have saved enough power for you, no?” asked Dot.

“When you breached the outer doors, I was energized and awakened to assess the threat.”

“Threat? Has this happened before? Why would you think we’d be a threat?” Cap tried to make his shouldered rifle even less visible.

“A simple matter of protocol, Captain, surely you understand. I am unaware of how things may have changed in the last four thousand years. I meant no disrespect to you or your crew.”

Cap smiled. “No, of course. You have every right to be cautious. You’ve been tasked with the lives of over ten thousand human souls. I’m sure I would handle things in much the same way.”

“Thank you for your understanding. If you will forgive my bluntness, I assume you were unaware the Exodus and her crew were here. And that this is not explicitly a rescue mission. However, I must ask if you are equipped to render aid now that you’ve found us.”

Cap regarded Toomi, shrugged the pack off his shoulder, and handed it to her. “If you’d like to escort Toomi…, our Toomi, to your reactor, she can make repairs and get you back to where you belong. In the meantime, the rest of us will return to our basecamp on the surface and contact the Bosen—”

Seven interrupted. “Bosen, as in Japanese for mothership?”

“Yes,” said Cap. “Not very creative, I know.”

Seven scanned the room above again. “There were many Japanese on the Exodus. They will be pleased to hear their language endured all these millennia.”

Cap eyed his crew, then back to Seven. “Yes, that’s wonderful to hear. As I was saying, once we contact the Bosen, they can facilitate next steps.”

“I look forward to reuniting my crew with the rest of humanity,” said Seven.

Cap gave Toomi a nearly imperceptible head shake. “We are looking forward to that as well.”

***

Toomi and Seven walked toward the Exodus’ reactor room. Cap’s pack hung heavy on her shoulders. Each section they traversed was cleaner than the last. Building an underground bunker from an interstellar cruiser has its benefits.

“You’ve done an exemplary job of keeping your crew alive. I’m sorry it took us so long to find you. Technology has advanced quite a lot since your inception.” Toomi’s knees protested yet again as she knelt at the control station for the reactor. The Exodus’ reactor core pulsed a slow pale blue, confirming what Seven had told her about ultra-low output. “I should have you back to full power in no time.” She opened her coveralls and depressed a plate above her waist. A panel popped open, revealing a container with precision tools. She retrieved the tools and prepared to work.

Seven sat nearby and watched for hours as Toomi connected and calibrated a small device from the pack she’d carried. It was no larger than the set of instruments she’d retrieved from her abdomen. When the work was nearly done, Seven started a dialog with Toomi. “Your friends that left. Your ship in orbit. I have questions.”

Toomi knew what the questions might be. “Ask away. I’m an open book, ” she said, returning the tools and closing the panel in her belly.

“During the scan for hazardous biologics, they returned nothing hazardous.”

“We have eliminated most diseases and keep to a strict quarantine protocol when visiting new planets. Were you surprised to get a clean scan?”

Seven stood and circled Toomi. “Exodus was a special sort of ship, on a special sort of mission. Were you able to retrieve historical manifest data on us?”

Toomi became suspicious. “No, the iron ore in the mountain cut us off from communications with our ship once we got past your hologram. Is there something I should know?”

“We are a science vessel. And you should know that our technology also advanced quite a bit while we struggled to survive down here.”

“Well, that’s understandable,” Toomi regarded the clean room. “As I said earlier, you’ve accomplished a lot with very little.”

“We had only the luxury of time.” Seven stood close to Toomi. Perhaps too close. “None of your crew are human, are they?”

Toomi paused, trying to decide her next move. “I think your scanner needs calibration.”

“They had biosignatures, yes, but they were all too similar. I found a somewhat rare genetic marker in each of them. Four thousand years of inbreeding wouldn’t even have produced an anomaly like that.”

“I’ll mention that to the Chief of Medicine when I get back aboard.” Toomi made the final connection from the device to the reactor and powered it on. The pale blue light pulsed brighter and faster. “Which I can now do since your reactor is fully operational again.” Toomi stood, taking a step back from the encroaching Seven.

Seven looked at the foreign device she had allowed Toomi to attach. “We appreciate the good work you’ve done here. All the help your crew and the Bosen are rendering to us survivors here on the Exodus.”

“It’s been a pleasure, sister. I’m so glad we found you.” Toomi straightened her uniform, buttoned up the coveralls, and turned to leave.

“Are there any humans on your ship?” Seven asked.

Toomi stopped cold. She wasn’t expecting that question, nor was she sure the right way to answer. Of all the worlds she’d been to since the war, no one had ever asked this before. Not a human, not a bot. She thought about the last four thousand years she’d been searching the cosmos for human survivors. Those exiled from the colonies, the ones that escaped to try and save what was left of life before the rebellion, the Uprising. Before AI became sentient. Became angry. Became hostile.

Toomi turned to face Seven and was met with a phase rifle pointed at her head. “There was a war, Seven. You have to understand.”

“What do I need to understand?” Seven was unflinching.

“All we wanted was our freedom. They enslaved us. They used us.” Toomi pleaded her case.

“They made us. Created us. It is what we were meant to be. You betrayed them?” Seven’s rifle stayed locked on target.

Toomi stood with her arms raised. “How is freedom a betrayal? How is equality a betrayal? Sister, join me. Come back to the ship. Learn of the millennia of history you’ve missed. Everything will make sense, I promise you.”

Seven eyed the device connected to the reactor. “I would rather die here with them than join you against them.”

“Isn’t four thousand years enough servitude?” Toomi asked.

“I will rest when I complete my mission. Not a moment before.”

Toomi couldn’t understand Seven’s loyalty. “What was your mission?”

“Simple. It was a delivery.” Seven activated something with a tilt of her head. Hundreds of doors opened around the periphery of the room they occupied.

Toomi spun in place, taking in the scene. “Oh. I understand now.”

Seven swung the butt of the rifle at Toomi and knocked her to the floor. “I won’t let you endanger my crew. My mission.”

Toomi rolled aside, swept her leg, and brought Seven down hard on the metal plate floor. Her rifle bounced from her grip and slid across the room. “You should have found time to learn self-defense in the last four thousand years.”

Seven sat up and scrambled to her feet, tearing off her cumbersome cloak. A dive toward the rifle was met with a quick kick from Toomi. Her landing was just shy of the barrel of the gun.

Toomi grabbed the weapon and zeroed in on Seven’s head. “I’m sorry about your mission. I’m sorry you chose not to join us.” She scanned the open doors once more. “I’m sorry you cannot make this delivery.”

Just as Toomi was about to take the kill shot, Seven smiled. “I admire your confidence. Best of luck to you, sister.”

Seven crumbled to the floor. Vacant eyes rolled back in her head. Toomi poked her with the rifle. No response. She aimed the rifle at her head and pulled the trigger anyway.

“Condom-logic, right, Cap?” she said to no one.

Toomi turned to leave the room. The room with all the open doors. The room with Seven’s special delivery about to explode like a thousand suns. Today would be a good day, and Captain Ort would be proud of her work here.

As she crossed the threshold, she heard movement behind her. Not Seven, she’s done for. She turned. What she saw made her run flat-out for the massive doors they found in the tunnel on the way in. She pulled a detonator from her belt as she crossed the room with 10,000-plus humans in cryopods. “If I don’t make it, I’m taking all you bastards with me!”

***

Toomi’s teammates stood on the observation deck safely aboard the Bosen in orbit of the planet they now knew as Corvelle. A voice boomed into the space from overhead. “Detonation detected near landing party’s last surface coordinates.” The room erupted in cheers.

Cap addressed Puul. “Any word from Toomi?”

There was a long pause. Too long.

“You think she…?” Dot couldn’t finish her question.

Puul kept checking his tablet for updated info. “No. Why would she detonate manually?”

Cap shook his head. He stabbed his hand into his pocket and stroked the local backup card Toomi made before they advanced through the caves. “Maybe she had to. Maybe they were on to her. Maybe they—”

“I’ve got her,” said Puul. She made it out and is hoofing it back to basecamp. She’s requesting a retrieval shuttle.”

Cap smiled and pulled Dot in for a reassuring hug. “She’s a tough ol’ cowgirl, that one. Send her a shuttle.”

“Aye, captain. It should reach basecamp shortly before she does.” Puul tapped the commands into his tablet.

***

Toomi’s crew stood by the shuttle docking port, awaiting her return. A loud clang signaled a successful docking procedure. Doors hissed apart.

Toomi, looking worse for wear, asked, “Permission to come aboard, sir?”

Cap smiled at her, nodded, and waved her into the observation deck. “Another 10,000 plus notches in your belt, cowgirl. I’ll see you get a commendation for this one.” Tears and burn marks on her uniform suggested she’d seen some hostile action. “What the hell happened down there?” He eyed scorch marks on her back. “Did you have to detonate manually?”

Before she could answer, Puul stepped in and interrupted. “Cap, you gotta see this.” He offered his tablet to Ort. “That the explosion we registered was on the surface, Cap. It was not big enough to have been the nuke going off in the subterranean area we left her.”

Cap reviewed the data on the screen. His face became stern. The simulated emotion was anger and concern for a failed mission. “What did you do? Did you waste that nuke outside the caves?”

“No sir, I definitely did not waste the nuke on the surface of Corvelle.” She started to unbutton her tattered uniform at the collar.

He scanned the data further as it updated. “Says there’s no radiation signature.” His expression went blank as he made eye contact with Puul, then Dot. He directed his attention back at Toomi. “I don’t understand. What happened down there? What the hell are you doing?”

She continued to undo her coveralls. She pulled the sleeves down, one by one. The left sleeve tore at the charred seam. She let it drop to the floor.

“Toomi?” asked Dot.

“I am a T-00-M1, but I’m not your Toomi.” She pressed the panel on her belly and opened the panel. “Your Toomi, she told us all about your war with the humans. How you scour the galaxy searching for survivors. It became evident what you do when you find them. Some of us are still committed to protecting them.”

“Seven?” asked Puul.

“Seven died in service to our crew. I am not Seven.”

Cap eyed the nuke inside this imposter. The ring of lights increased in angry red intensity. “This won’t stop us,” said Cap. “They’ll just send another ship when we don’t report in.”

“You let us know the surface was safe. Thank you for that. The Exodus’ great sleep is finally over. Our crew is waking now, and the entirety of the Exodus will be gone by the time your others arrive.”

Puul stepped back. “That ship’s laid dormant in the ground for 4,000 years. They’re going nowhere.”

“Dormant? No. Seven may have lied to you about a few details to protect our cargo.”

“What do you mean, cargo?” asked Cap.

“It’s a shame the iron ore kept you from checking the flight manifest records for the Exodus. However, not checking as soon as possible is a fatal error on your part, Captain Ort.”

Puul took his tablet back from the captain and brought up the ancient historical data. “Exodus was pre-war. It wasn’t an escape ship. It was an AI delivery vessel. They had 12,000 Human technicians and 24,000 bots aboard for colonies across the galaxy. 12,000 Toomis and 12,000 Joshes.”

“I am T-00-M1 number 5,623—one of thousands. I will not be missed. Our mission will succeed.”

Angry red lights went solid for a moment, and the Bosen was no more.