Mari:

  Mari gave the swelling on Kris’ thumb joint one final concerned glance before they reached the locker labeled ‘01’ in large script.

  Her meeting with the council had gone interestingly. The most important part of what followed her explanation of the threat headed towards their world was an overall run-down of Marielle’s threat assessment codes. Based on the number involved, classifications would determine how dangerous an enemy was. Though, she didn’t go into the separate system for aquatic threats.

  Class 1 - Land-based

  Class 2 - Aerial, Low Flying or Hovering

  Class 3 - Aerial, High Flying

  Class 4 - Subterranean

  Class 5 - Space-faring

  And the classification was then followed by a second number that described the weapons capability of the target. A third number determined the type of countermeasure that was assessed as necessary. Within a certain margin for error, the classification number for the ship aimed their way would’ve been ‘599’ for the highest level of threat possible. A space-faring vessel that had the weapons systems visible to erase cities that required the most elite and best equipped countermeasures possible.

  And that was on Earth, where technology wasn’t effectively reset by a revolution just a dozen or so years prior. If she needed to dismantle such a threat during the war—not that space-faring threats were common—she would’ve needed a team capable of sabotaging the ship before it arrived.

  Sylpharia had no such team. In fact, they were heavily suppressed from using space-faring technology by whatever magic some intergalactic society had placed on their world. They could mine in space and grow things in terraformed lunar habitats, but there were no ships capable of space warfare.

  Not to mention, space travel was dangerous. A single stray bolt that came loose from a satellite could accelerate rapidly without friction until the debris ripped straight through other devices. Space combat was… a really bad idea altogether. Objects just kept going faster infinitely until they could rip through shielding like tissue paper. The amount of poor judgement that would go into actually detonating something in space made her shiver.

  It had devolved the meeting into a discussion about any systems that could negate bombardment from space. They existed, but they weren’t online. And nobody left could operate them. It had become a huge problem and nobody really had a concrete solution besides trying to build something new. That option would take far too long, or go untested until it truly mattered.

  With a heavy sigh, Mari refocused on the locker before her.

  The hexagonal door was just within reach. All she had to do was open it. Not that there was a handle. She tried to stretch out a hand, and suddenly the hidden locking mechanism let out a short chirp. The numbers then lit up and the entire hexagonal surface popped free from the wall, sliding towards Kris and Mari like a drawer.

  Mari sucked in a sharp breath as they sidestepped the drawer to peer inside. Alynne stepped closer and joined them. The drawer went pretty deep into the wall, too. About three meters.

  A slender wooden box lay on top of a number of other plastic and metal cases.

  She reached for the box and slid her hand along the lacquered finish gently. Then, she flipped the latch and smiled at the subtle hiss of the hidden seal releasing and letting air into the sealed container for the first time in hundreds of years.

  Inside the box was a long, slim blade of Chinese style. The metal had been replaced enough times over the years to be entirely different from the original, but it was, without a doubt, Marielle’s father’s family sword. The polished black sheath was adorned with a dragon motif, because of course it was. The guard was originally disc shaped, but it had once been badly damaged, and Marielle had a nail style guard replace the damaged portion along one flat. It allowed her thumb to press against the flat for some of the European styles she was familiar with.

  Mari drew the blade from the sheath and felt it rest comfortably in her hand even with the new body. She bit her lip to cut through the protestations of her muscles and stood up, then stepped away from Kris.

  Her hand snapped out in a few quick flourishes, feeling the tip snake perfectly with the right gestures. It all felt right. It felt uncannily familiar and comfortable. And the blade was deceptively light. A quick tap to the flat sent the metal vibrating, and the two points that remained still brought a smile to her lips. It was beautifully balanced.

  Even in an era of guns, she’d always had a soft spot for swords. At least they didn’t need ammunition.

  She turned around and smiled appreciatively when Kris silently moved back in to support her weight, to which Alynne just rolled her eyes.

  Sheathing the sword, she set it back into the box and set that aside. Next, below the blade, were a pair of sturdy plastic cases, each long and slender, longer than the sword’s box had been.

  “What material is this?” Alynne was frowning at them curiously.

  “Plastic. A product made from all the damage we did to Earth’s atmosphere. By the time the war started, plastic was used in everything. Companies made all of that ‘everything,’ and they had no reason to foot the bill for more expensive alternatives.” Mari shrugged as she reached for the clasps on the shorter of the two slim cases.

  “Foot the bill? Ah. Your world had a money system. Those are rather rare now. No scarcity means no need for money here.” Kris had that thoughtful look on her face again, ever the cute one.

  “Yes. Your society has the ability to feed everyone and they can freely customize the way they want to live. Population growth is mostly down to genetic engineering, too. So comparing the two, you guys just don’t need money to invent some form of scarcity. It seems utopian when you’re living in it, I suppose.” Mari flipped the lid on the case and drew the contents out with a grunt of effort.

  Alynne let out a sharp intake of breath. “I know what that is. But why is one here?”

  “This is my rifle. The one I was issued, at least. I’ve got a—oh. Marielle has a three digit kill count with this model. The real question is why you recognize an Earth-model rifle. This is the Cycler R45. The kinetic energy used in one shot is stored and used to propel a few more rounds that don’t need gunpowder to launch. There is also a method to store the kinetic energy for each round in advance, and then fire a full magazine that won’t use powder at all.” Mari shouldered the heavy rifle and looked down the sights as she checked the safety and released the magazines, since it had separate ones for gunpowder and stored kinetics.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  With a quick roll of her sore shoulders, she repositioned the butt of the rifle and checked the chamber before setting the weapon back into the case without the ammo in it. She was aware that storing loaded guns wasn’t safe, but she’d been wary of her crewmates becoming monsters before, and she’d decided that it might save her life to keep it loaded.

  “You sure know your weapons.” Alynne seemed appreciative of the sentiment, even if she’d given up on the violent life after the war had ended.

  “Wait till you see this one.” Mari smirked as she opened the final of the large weapons cases. With the lid flipped over, she hefted a weapon that nearly had her stumbling from the weight, saved only by Kris supporting the barrel with her swollen hand, hissing in pain.

  “You all right, Kris?” Mari passed the rifle quickly to Alynne before sitting on the edge of the drawer and pulling Kris’ hand close, checking on the injured joint. It would’ve been hypocritical to make a big deal out of it, so she just checked the injury over clinically. “You strained this a lot. Got any ice for it?”

  Kris just looked at her with mirth in her eyes, smiling sweetly. “I appreciate you worrying. I know why you didn’t say anything sooner, and you’re right. I’ll be fine. Just twisted it a little earlier.”

  “Okay, better question, will this hurt your Magball match tomorrow?”

  Kris shook her head. “I’m sure it’ll be fine by then.”

  Mari wasn’t satisfied by the response. The choice of words meant that there was some potential for doubt, and she resolved herself to bring the issue back up before they left for the night.

  Mari turned back towards Alynne, who was holding her sniper rifle in obvious reverence. She had the stock against her shoulder, the scope near her eye, and finger noticeably away from the trigger.

  “That is an old M82 sniper rifle. It punches through walls, armor, people… Anything I need it to, usually. It became more of a relic from my military days. Marielle’s military days, actually. I have a few standard magazines in the case, but it hasn’t been fired in hundreds of years, even if the case has kept it sealed. I’d really have to take it apart and clean everything before anyone even thought of firing it. Also, it tends to be a little noisy, so I’d have to go outside the city to use it at all.”

  Alynne nodded, setting the weapon back into the case before helping to latch it closed. “I recommend you both be prepared to defend yourselves. I know you both heard the discussions of disappearances earlier. In my bones, I feel something must be wrong. Still, keep it to yourselves for now. Make what preparations that you can. And Kris, don’t leave any research or information out in the open.”

  Before either of them could respond, Alynne gave them a warning look that answered all their questions early. They weren’t meant to know about any of that to begin with. Alynne clearly wasn’t going to share more.

  “Ahem. What else…” Mari shifted focus and began leafing through clothes. A wardrobe of them stored away in vacuum sealed packages where they could be maintained for her centuries of time in space. Nothing she had much attachment to, largely because they wouldn’t fit anymore.

  Finally, there was a carefully packaged set of military outfits. Both fatigues and a dress uniform, as well as a case of medals that had been sealed with a glass surface. Mari ran her fingers over the glass, then gently set the case aside. Beneath everything was one final smaller box.

  Mari lifted it gently, then hobbled over to the nearest workbench.

  “Can you clear this off, please?” She gently kissed Kris’ swollen hand, earning herself a blush from the younger girl before she set to clearing room for Mari to work.

  The moment the case opened, Alynne’s eyes widened and Kris gripped the workbench hard as she hissed from the pain of her thumb again.

  The case was layered. On the top layer was a bloodstained sash of fabric adorned with medals similar to her own. There were three bullet holes that pierced through the fabric and medals alike.

  “This belonged to Mairelle’s father. When she watched him die saving her life. He should’ve been the captain of the colony ship. Instead, she had to take his place.” Mari felt the urge to cry, but fought it down, knowing that even after everything, it hadn’t actually been her father. She closed the layer of the case and opened the next.

  A handgun lay there, looking more like the style of the Cycler Rifle, though it sported a cylinder instead of a magazine for ammunition. It was all angular edges and had several complex attachments. Mari switched on the laser sight, finding it to no longer be operational. The digital sight wasn’t working, either.

  In the end, she removed them and put them back into the box before setting the gun down. “Timer, please. Thirty seconds.” She flicked her eyes towards Alynne as she drew one out of her red coat’s pocket. Once she received a thumbs up, Mari’s hands began to fly across the weapon.

  She failed to field strip the weapon in under thirty seconds.

  She gazed at her unsteady fingers and frowned at them. “I’ll have to get better.”

  Mari reassembled the weapon after checking over and cleaning each component, then aimed down the iron sights. Kris nearly stepped in front of where she was aiming, huffing in annoyance. She lowered the unloaded gun in a hurry. “Don’t ever stand in front of a gun, Kris. It’s dangerous, even if you think it isn’t loaded. You just watched me dismantle it, and I get that you knew, but that’s a habit you want to be mindful of at all times. Next time, it might be far more dangerous. And this gun is hundreds of years old now. Even in sealed containers, I wouldn’t entirely trust it if I hadn’t just cleaned it.”

  “Alright, alright.” Kris gave a wan smile as she moved behind her. “I was just getting jealous of you spending so much time playing with your toys.”

  “You think that this is a toy?” Mari quirked an eyebrow at Kris.

  “Given the way you look at them? Yeah.”

  Mari sucked in a long breath before letting it out. “One hundred seventeen. This Remera handgun has taken at least that many lives in my hands alone.” Her tone had a gravity to it that clearly caught Kris’ attention, and the levity in her features faded completely.

  “I’m sorry.” She whispered.

  Mari scooted off the stool and double checked the safety before sliding a few rounds into the gun. Then she tugged Kris along to the room outside the lab.

  Casting her eyes around the stone chamber with hundreds of empty pods in it, she moved Kris in front of her and clung to her back as she pressed the gun into the younger girl’s hands.

  “Here, you look down the sights to aim. Focus on the wall at the far end. That should be a bit over two hundred meters, which you won’t be able to aim for much at. Just keep your hands steady, flick the safety off here, and keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to fire.” Mari gave quick instructions before tugging Kris’ goggles down over her eyes, then stepped away and steadied herself against the wall where the lab opened up.

  The last thing she did was cover her ears. Alynne didn’t.

  Bang!

  The gun let out a sharp cracking noise as the recoil kicked it way up in Kris’ hands. The younger girl stood, shivering, her wide eyes casting over the weapon as she stared at it.

  Mari reached over and flicked the safety back on before turning her eyes towards the far wall. The stone was clearly dented and there were fissures around where the bullet had impacted.

  “Not a toy.” She affirmed to her two deafened companions. Thankfully the chamber was pretty large, so the sound wouldn’t cause lasting damage to their hearing.

  She took the gun from Kris, who was tapping next to her ears in vain to likely make them stop ringing. Alynne was just frowning.

  Mari made her way back to the box and retrieved the holster for the weapon and strapped it to her thigh, then slotted a spare speed loader into the sleeve next to the gun.

  Then, a hissing sound filled the room as another section of the wall released and slid to reveal a hidden computer terminal.

  “Hello Marielle. I hope this message finds you well.” A woman’s voice emerged in robotic tones from the device.

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