“It’s not ideal, but it’s necessary to complete the mission,” Commander Arbon told his concerned lieutenant. “We find this data block, deliver it to our client, and get paid. It’s that simple.”

 

Lieutenant Nel acknowledged her commander with a nod.

 

Gravity tugged at them lightly here, an unfamiliar world at the edge of known space. The air tasted stale, like standard issue ration crackers past their best. System malfunctions had plagued their discarded combat suits. Instead, they relied on military grade impact vests.

 

The duo descended into the vast cavern in silence.

 

Silhouetted by a small fire, a single occupant sat at the cave floor. It showed no awareness of their presence.

 

Unclipping their harnesses, they approached with caution, weapons raised.

 

“Greetings!” came the rasp of a mechanical voice.

 

The figure did not move.

 

Arbon motioned to halt their advance.

 

“It’s a servitor, sir,” said Nel. “What’s that doing here?”

 

“Hold, Lieutenant,” Arbon ordered.

 

The servitor stood. Its slow, mechanical movements betrayed its age. Arbon could hear cranks and whirs of ancient cogs, like an antique windup toy. A ragged piece of cloth hung from its upper torso, as though shielding itself from the cold.

 

It juddered as it turned to them, revealing unmovable yet distinct servitor facial features.

 

“We should purge it, sir, just like the rest of them.” Nel raised her weapon.

 

“Lieutenant!” Arbon commanded.

 

“Sir.”

 

The servitor’s head vibrated as it observed their exchange.

 

“Commander-r, I-I presume?” The mechanical being extended a hand.

 

Both soldiers deferred to their military training, re-aiming their weapons.

 

“S-sorry,” the servitor said. Its hands trembled, raised in the universal action for surrender. Arbon thought its synthesised voice sounded like a fuzzy set of faulty communication units. “I know h-how this looks, b-but I am not exactly-y w-what I seem.”

 

Arbon scanned the campsite, wishing he had use of his suit AI. He kept his weapon trained on the being. While Nel remained in position, Arbon moved around the fire.

 

“Where is the data block?” Arbon demanded.

 

“There is only m-me here. Out-t amongst the s-stars, with n-nought but r-red dust as company-y.” The servitor’s head moved as if it had a tick.

 

“And what are you then, exactly, if not a servitor?” Arbon asked.

 

The mechanical being adjusted its rags, straightened its posture, and declared, “I am Captain-n Quinley Roberts-s, of the E.S. Erikson-n… sort of.”

 

“The Erikson was destroyed, sir. Over five centuries ago!” Nel said. “There’s no way its captain was a servitor.”

 

“I-it is true,” the servitor said. “I-it is a long story-y. B-but suffice it to say, I-I am Quinley Roberts-s.” It resumed sitting by the fire. “You m-may call me Quinn-n.”

 

“Don’t think us fools,” Arbon said. He moved to face Quinn, raising his weapon. “Where is the data block?”

 

“Ha!” Quinn responded. “I-I know not of what you speak-k, b-but I know of what you seek-k.”

 

“It’s gone mad, sir,” Nel suggested. “It’s centuries old. It must be nothing but rotten circuits and degraded memory banks by now. It even believes it’s a millennium-old Earthship captain! Let me put us out of its misery, sir.” She raised her weapon, awaiting orders.

 

“H-half a millennium-m,” Quinn corrected.

 

“Stand down, Lieutenant.” Arbon paused, then placed his rifle on the floor.

 

“Sir?” Nel lowered her weapon with stubborn reluctance.

 

Arbon knelt by Quinn. “This data block is of great importance to our client.”

 

“I-it is of great-t i-importance to humanity-y,” Quinn said.

 

“To humanity? Why do you say that?” Arbon asked.

 

Nel looked on in disbelief.

 

“B-because I am the c-custodian,” Quinn said, “a-and you are of g-great importance to humanity-y… a-and you!” Its arm juddered, pointing to each of them in turn.

 

Quinn’s fixed features gave nothing away.

 

Ancients may have called this a stoic stare, Arbon thought.

 

“Do you know what happened when we arrived?”

 

“Y-you were always-s here,” Quinn responded.

 

Nel threw her hands up. “See? It’s not making sense!”

 

“Do you know who’s responsible for our malfunctioning equipment, our suits?” Arbon asked.

 

“The suits… interference, maybe…” Nel said. “Do you think it’s connected to the data block, sir?”

 

“I don’t know, Lieutenant.”

 

“Connected-d to the b-block…” Quin echoed. “I-it is the d-dust,” he said. For a moment, Arbon thought he heard sorrow in the synthetic voice. “S-soon the chemical imbalance w-within your system-m w-will overcome your n-natural ability to withstand it-t.”

 

Arbon felt his chest tighten. He coughed. Fluids sprayed into the air before him, gently floating to the ground. He wiped blood from his mouth in disbelief.

 

“I-it is different-t with e-everyone, but they-y all eventually-y s-succumb. I am-m surprised but p-pleased that y-you made it this f-far.”

 

Nel fell to her knees, spitting blood onto the ground. She convulsed once, letting out a piercing inhuman scream.

 

Arbon was reminded of wild canids on Forlorn Proxima-Seven.

 

Nel dropped onto her side, adopting a foetal position as her body spasmed.

 

Arbon felt like molten metal flowed through his veins. He began to convulse. He held back his instinct to shout out, determined to show restraint and his resolute military strength.

 

“W-what you call the d-data node is all around-d us,” Quinn continued, “i-it is the air w-we breathe, the dust beneath our f-feet. And-d you will become a p-part of it, l-like so many others before y-you”

 

Arbon fell onto his hands. His body jerked as he spat more blood, and he watched as it mingled with red dust beneath him.

 

“I-it is the legacy of-f those who came b-before,” Quinn said, “one that-t m-must be protected until the t-time is r-right. Until-l humanity-y can be reclaimed, restored-d… and s-saved.”

 

Arbon looked over to Nel; there was a grave stillness. He was unaccustomed to the deep sorrow it evoked but grateful that they had known each other.

 

“N-not l-long now, Commander-r.” Quinn poked at the fire. “You will b-become one with the d-design…”

 

Arbon closed his eyes.

 

“…a-and nought but red d-dust.”