Chapter 16: A Forced Plan

“I work for Vibane.”

Everyone stood outside the cave in the biting morning air, staring at Vessa. She braced herself for the fallout, shoulders tense, waiting for the shouting to start. When nothing but complete silence met her for several long seconds, her confidence faltered.

“No response?” she asked, looking between them. “From any of you?”

“About time you fessed up,” Kilner said, leaning back against a rock.

“We all knew,” Oomah added.

Vessa blinked rapidly, looking from one to the next. “How?”

“Question one,” Eddington answered.

“Seriously?” She shook her head, a dry, humorless laugh escaping her. “Was it really that profound of a question?”

“What’s your favorite game?” Uzari chimed in.

“Ohhh,” Kilner groaned, placing his hand on his temple. “Don’t mention the word game. Those things gave me such a headache yesterday.”

Vessa stared at the trees in the distance, stalling to formulate an answer before turning back to Uzari. “Time Masters,” she blurted out.

A collective chuckle broke among the crew, cutting through the morning chill. Only Hinelin remained stone-faced.

“It’s Time Lords,” Orion corrected, crossing his arms. “If you’d actually played it, you wouldn’t forget the name.”

“Okay, fine, I don’t play video games,” Vessa snapped, her chin rising. “I’m much too busy for such silliness.”

“What, too busy lying to us to relax?” Kilner sneered. “I guess deceiving your team is entertainment enough.”

“Look, I know you’ve a right to be angry, but I was just—”

“—doing your job?” Hinelin cut her off, stepping up to her side. “Don’t say it.” He placed a steadying hand on her shoulder and faced the hostile glares of the rest of the team. “I had a talk with Vessa during our watch last night. She voluntarily agreed to confess, and everyone should keep that in mind. We’ve all kept secrets. Most of them without intent to hurt anyone. I believe Ms. Vessa had good intentions, despite how her deception looks.”

Kilner snorted. “Secrets like being a spy for the military, Hinelin?”

“Kilner’s right,” Oomah said, her anger deflating into a heavy, hollow exhaustion as she looked around at their bleak surroundings. “How can we trust you when you’re no different than her? Both of you lied straight to our faces while we’re out here—abandoned and hunted.”

“Fighting will do us no good,” Giddeon said, his voice cutting through the bickering. “Now we all know who works for whom, but it doesn’t change our situation. We’re all in the same boat.” He gave a sharp nod toward Hinelin and Vessa. “And they’re along for the ride just as we are. Everything now is about survival.”

He took a step closer to Vessa, his expression turning deadly serious. “Did you ever meet a man who went by the name Jake S?”

Vessa shook her head, eyebrows furrowed. “The name’s not familiar. Why?”

“He’s my brother. He went missing over a year ago on a temporary mission for Vibane that was never made public.”

Oomah went pale, her hands clenching the fabric of her dress. “Are you serious? You mean we’re not the first group to be used and abandoned by them?”

“What was the mission?” Hinelin’s tone held a rare hint of interest.

“I don’t know the details,” Giddeon admitted. “Only that it had something to do with this planet. I suspect it was a similar premise to the one they sold us.”

“Are you suggesting we’re not the first to land here?” Kilner asked.

Giddeon shook his head. “I’m almost certain we’re not. That madman in a suit, the one who called himself Lannister—I’m pretty sure he checked out my stats.”

Vessa gasped, her chest tightening. “You think he was an Aiges?”

“I believe the people who attacked us were all Aiges—just ones from prior Vibane missions.”

A mind-numbing stillness fell over the clearing. No one moved; even Kilner seemed speechless as the full weight of what he meant settled over them.

“Wait,” Vessa lifted her hand, her fingers trembling slightly. “I—I never heard of any such group before.” She looked at each of them in turn. “I would have known if Ereos sent others before us.”

“I ripped the ship’s encrypted database apart as well as leftover ghost servers,” Giddeon explained. “I found nothing. If I didn’t have first-hand information from my brother, I would believe you. It appears you’re not as important to Vibane as you think you are.”

Vessa shook her head in denial. “No, that can’t be. Ereos sent us to gather specimens. He asked me to investigate the planet’s anti-technological pushback, personally. He was insistent that something down here was—”

“Did he ever mention elves?” Giddeon interrupted her. “Or that the planet was already occupied by intelligent, civilized life forms?”

“Well…well no,” she replied. Her voice cracked, dwindling to a near whisper as the horrific realization finally clicked into place. Ereos hadn’t trusted her; he was just using her like everyone else there. “We never found any…civilized life forms,” she finished, her words sounding pitiful even to her own ears.

“So, she’s easily duped,” Orion spat, his jaw clenched. “What’s the point of asking her all this? To show us how ignorant she was?”

“It tells us a lot,” Giddeon replied, his voice level. “It tells us exactly what we should not be doing.”

“What the hell does that even mean?” Orion growled, clearly reaching a breaking point. “You people talk in so many circles it’s a wonder we’ve made it this far.”

“I know where the return site is located,” Vessa said, a dose of her old confidence returning to her voice. “I can lead us there if someone can pinpoint our location on the map.” Her gaze drifted to Hinelin.

“No.” Uzari shook her head. “That’s what Gid’s talking about. We absolutely cannot go to the return site.”

“Well, I want to go!” Oomah blurted. Her jaw was set as her eyes darted from person to person, hunting for support. “You can stay here if you want, but I want off this crappy planet!”

Uzari stepped forward, raising a hand to quiet her. “Think about it, Oomah. We’re not the first mission here, and Vibane never warned us about the other Aiges. Clearly things are going on that are out of their control, and they know it. They knew Enivia was inhabited by intelligent life advanced in ways they can’t fathom: information which they specifically withheld from us.” She looked to Hinelin. “The military doesn’t know either, do they?”

Hinelin gave a single, grim nod. “According to official Vibane reports, this planet holds no intelligent life.”

“Oh my god.” Vessa dropped, crouching low to the ground, both hands massaging her temples as if a sudden, violent migraine had just hit her. “We can’t go to the return site.”

“Will someone please explain things plainly?” Eddington asked, poking a finger against the side of his leg in perfect cadence to the nervous tapping of his foot.

“The military answers to the Triumvirate,” Uzari explained. “And the Triumvirate’s Galactical Charter strictly forbids setting foot on newly discovered planets if initial surveillance indicates it contains intelligent life forms, even crude civilizations. It’s meant to protect the planet from exploitation. It’s meant to stop companies like Vibane.”

“Which means our entire mission isn’t official.” Kilner let out a humorless laugh. “In fact, it’s highly illegal, meaning Vibane’s up to no good.”

“Even worse,” Giddeon added. “It means we’re a major liability. We know things the Triumvirate was never meant to find out. We aren’t meant to return.” He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in for a moment. “The only question is, are we also guinea pigs, or did they not know if the other Aiges down here would try to kill us?”

Orion’s lips twisted in a lopsided sneer. “If those things were once human, you could have fooled me.”

“They might be humans that have adapted to the planet.” Hinelin tapped his chin, deep in thought. “Or fell prey to it. We still don’t know much about how gaining aspects affects the mind. Anything’s up in the air right now.”

Uzari gave him a puzzled look. “Gaining aspects?”

“Leveling up,” Giddeon translated, decoding the military man’s lingo. “You were confined to the medical tent when he used the term before.”

“Is there even a way back?” Oomah asked, her voice cracking under the weight of her panic. “Do you think we could return, if we stole a ship?”

“I’m certain there’s a way to return,” Giddeon assured her. “They spent too much money on equipment for gathering specimens, and on us.” He tapped the side of his head. “There must be a way back, though that doesn’t mean the return ships are meant to carry live occupants. Vessa?”

Vessa was still in a crouch, rubbing her forehead as she tried to pull herself together. At the sound of her name, she looked up. “Yes?”

“The return site, do you know anything?”

“Oh, y-yes, I…I do know a little.” She slowly stood, dabbing at her cheeks to brush away lingering tears, then cleared her throat with a rough cough. “I was told there were sections on this continent where the anti-technological pushback was much weaker. It was…it was something I was also supposed to investigate.” A sudden, hollow laugh escaped her lips. “Though now I’m wondering if they simply planned to extract the data from my corpse? I don’t need to be breathing for them to pull the logs, do I?”

Her words made the silence feel even more suffocating than it already was.

“So, what are we supposed to do then?” Kilner asked.

No one answered. No one had one.

“For now, we survive,” Hinelin spoke up, his tone resolute. “That’s all there is to it.”

“I’m just going to lie here and die.” Oomah collapsed backwards onto the dirt, lying flat on her back. A heavy sigh escaped her, followed immediately by a loud rumbling from her stomach. “I just wish I didn’t have to die hungry,” she moaned.

“I’d give up that fat paycheck I’m never going to see just for a drink,” Kilner groused.

Giddeon reached to his side where the vial hung hidden behind the purple pouch. Holding it up, the light caught its rim. “Perhaps some good news might lift your spirits? Uzari discovered discarded items behind a tree last night—most likely dropped by the elven woman on her way to the cave.”

Eddington immediately pushed off his rock seat and took a step toward Giddeon, eagerly licking his cracked lips. “Is…is there water in there?”

Giddeon unstoppered the cap, tilting the container. A steady, impossibly endless stream of clear water spilled out onto the ground.

“What are you doing!” Orion demanded.

“The flask is, well, it’s magical for lack of a better term,” Giddeon said, holding it steady as liquid continued to pour spill forth. “It never runs out of water.”

Oomah quickly sat up, her eyes widening as they locked onto the bottle. “Are you serious? You mean like a Vial of Endless Liquid, from Asteria?”

“Err, I prefer to call it a Flask of Quenching,” Giddeon replied, suppressing a shudder as he recalled his earlier conversation with Johnny. He’d made the same mistake as Oomah, resulting in a twenty-minute lecture on the item’s grueling lore and why calling it anything else was a crime against nature itself. He didn’t wish that tirade even on his worst enemy.

“You’re being serious, aren’t you?” Orion stepped beside him, inspecting the bottle up close. “I loved stuff like this in Asteria. That vial was immensely useful, especially in Garjaha.”

“I hated that desert,” Eddington said offhandedly. “Too many adds clumped together with bloated hit points. It wasn’t worth the XP for the time spent, not to mention the unbearable heat that constantly drained stamina. Only idiots leveled there.”

Orion turned to the chubby man, his icy gaze like a chilled blade that cut the space between them. “My guild lived in Garjaha.”

“Oh.” Eddington swallowed hard, taking an involuntary step back. “Sorry.”

As Orion’s gaze returned to the flask, his dark mood vanished instantly. “Can I…can I drink from it?” he asked, his hands clenching and unclenching with unrestrained excitement.

Oomah snorted. “He’s like a child when it comes to magical items. Be careful, Giddeon, you might not get it back.”

“Share it with everyone,” Giddeon said, handing it over. “We’ve no cups, so just drink straight from it. Germs are the least of our worries.”

Orion took the bottle in both hands, handling it as gently as a thin piece of spun glass. A genuine, childlike smile broke across his face as he peered at it— a side of him Giddeon hadn’t expected to see.

Oomah, Vessa, Kilner, and even the sheepish Eddington crowded around as Orion gripped the crimson stopper. Pulling on it, it opened with a sharp pop. The sudden, rushing roar of crashing ocean waves filled the immediate area, eliciting a collective gasp from the group.

Orion peered inside it with one eye closed. Grinning, he glanced at each of them, then tipped his head back and drank deep from the flask.

While everyone scrambled to go next, Giddeon silently moved away and approached Hinelin. “Can you help me grab the other stuff?” He nodded toward the tree line.

“Sure,” Hinelin replied, falling into step beside him as they slipped into the woods.

Giddeon and Uzari had agreed to reveal only select items to the group, keeping the rest tucked away in the Holding Bag. For now, the group only needed what would keep them alive.

The stash wasn’t far—just inside the woods behind a massive, moss-covered tree surrounded by thick bushes.

“I’m surprised no one saw this when we were gathering firewood last night,” Hinelin mused, peering down at the pile.

“I think Eddington and Orion were searching this section,” Giddeon replied smoothly. “They were probably too busy complaining to notice anything.”

Hinelin snorted. “True.” He reached down, lifting a fine tunic woven from pale fabric obviously meant for a woman. “What is all this?”

“Personal gear, I’m guessing,” Giddeon said, picking up a matching skirt and top. “The size looks about right for the elf.”

“How was she carrying all this around?” Hinelin’s mouth creased downward as his eyes scanned the forest floor. “And there’s no blood. I can understand dropping dead weight, but she was definitely wounded before she reached the cave.”

Giddeon shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. We don’t know anything about the people here, let alone a different race.”

“Was there anything else useful, like that vial?” Hinelin asked.

“Flask,” Giddeon unconsciously corrected as he bent down and picked up the wooden box. “This. We won’t have to worry about starving anytime soon. I’ll explain when we get back.”

Hinelin eyed him skeptically, but said nothing as he helped gather the items and carried them with Giddeon back to the clearing.

Most of the team was lounging contentedly on rocks or the ground, hydrated for the first time in days.

“We found something else left behind,” Giddeon announced, holding up the box. He flipped open the lid, revealing nine fluffy, gyro-like wraps stuffed with seasoned meat and vegetables. “Here, take one.”

“Food?” Eddington moaned, looking like a zombie ready to devour whatever was presented to him.

The crew swarmed him instantly, eagerly grabbing their breakfast. Within seconds, most of the wraps had vanished.

“Mmm,” Eddington crooned, rubbing his stomach with a satisfied groan. “Whatever this bread is, it tastes just like pita.”

“I like the meat,” Orion added, licking sauce from his fingers. “Can’t quite place it, though. It’s salty, but it’s not steak.”

“It’s lamb.”

All eyes turned to Giddeon. More than a few blinked curiously.

“What’s a lamb?” Kilner asked.

“Oh! I know!” Oomah shot her hand up like an excited schoolgirl. “It’s one of those extinct animals. Looks sort of like a small goat.”

“They’re not extinct on Earth One,” Giddeon replied. “But they’re just as likely to eat you as you are them.”

Vessa paused mid-bite, staring warily at her sandwich as if it might bite back.

“That’s…not what I recall reading about them,” Oomah said quietly.

“You’ve no worry.” Giddeon waved a hand dismissively. “They’re mutated on Earth One. Most things are.”

Noticing one remaining wrap in the container, he shoved the box toward Hinelin. “Here, take it. You need to eat.”

Hinelin pushed the box away. “Give it to someone else, or split it up.”

“It needs to be completely empty,” Giddeon insisted, thrusting the box back at him. “Just take it.”

Hinelin hesitated a moment before taking the wrap.

The moment the box was empty, Giddeon snapped the lid shut, held it closed for a few moments, then flipped it back open. Nine fresh, warm wraps filled the interior.

“Whoa!” Orion’s jaw dropped.

Vessa sidled up next to Giddeon, peering closely into the box as if searching for a hidden latch. “What trick is this?”

“It’s just like the Vial of Endless—”

“Flask!” Giddeon blurted out, cutting Eddington off on the spot. “The Flask of Quenching.” Lowering his voice, he added, “And yes, it constantly refills itself.”

“So, we’ve solved our food and drink problem with one lucky find?” Kilner asked in disbelief, looking around at the rest of the group.

“Thank the stars,” Oomah choked, sinking down onto a nearby rock. “Something positive, finally.” She sniffled, letting out a soft laugh as her trembling hand brushed away tears of joy.

Eddington placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, gently patting her back. “I’m sure if there’s a way out of all this, we’ll find it,” he said encouragingly.

Giddeon handed the magical box to Uzari. “There’s more than enough here for everyone,” he announced. As she began handing out more wraps, he addressed everyone once more. “If what Vessa says is correct, and there are locations where the anti-technological pushback is weak, I might be able to get my holo working.”

Everyone went silent, simply staring at him.

“Well, that solves everything!” Kilner suddenly exclaimed, his eyes widening dramatically as he threw his hands in the air. “Maybe then we can all play some games or check our mail!”

“We might be able to alert someone to our situation,” Oomah countered, pushing back against his cold cynicism.

“How?” Kilner scoffed. “Just write the Triumvirate Security Council or contact some local police district? They’ll just dismiss us as crazy or assume it’s a prank.”

“I can control the ship orbiting above us,” Giddeon said.

Vessa raised an eyebrow, eyeing at him with newfound scrutiny. “You can do that? How?”

“I didn’t just hack into the ship’s database,” he explained. “I infiltrated its primary control center. I infected their systems with several viruses, some just simple decoys they were meant to find. Assuming the core payloads remain undetected, I can remotely access the ship’s controls from down here—including launching rescue craft or activating return codes.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” Oomah cupped her face in both hands, fresh tears of elation springing to her eyes. “I could just kiss you!”

“Don’t.” Uzari’s tone was as cold as her gaze as she glared at the woman, giving a slow, deliberate shake of her head.

“I still don’t see how any of this actually helps us,” Kilner grumbled. “We’d just be slaughtered the moment we reach the mother ship.”

“It’d be a fight, sure, but we’d have a decent chance of winning,” Giddeon argued.

“A fight?” Orion gave a short, incredulous laugh. “So, now we’re talking about fighting Vibane Corp? You people are nuts.”

“How would we even have a chance?” Eddington asked, looking around the group. “Hatchets and ancient guns against pulse weapons and shockwave emitters isn’t my idea of a fighting chance.”

“No, he’s right,” Hinelin spoke up, stepping forward after standing quietly in deep thought. “If Giddeon can exploit those backdoors, it shifts this from a suicide run to a viable operation. We don’t engage their security forces directly—we use environmental containment. We isolate their personnel by sealing off entire zones—hallways, private quarters, the mess hall—we lock them all in.”

“Won’t their security team just counter your access or instantly reverse everything?” Orion challenged. “Someone on the ship is bound to have override clearance. Ever since the Dreadnaught incident a decade ago, every corporate system has strict protocols to shut down unwanted network breaches.” He turned and looked pointedly at Giddeon. “Like hackers.”

“So many lives were lost in that crisis,” Vessa murmured, her expression darkening. “It completely crippled all trade and communication with Earth One.” She looked to Giddeon. “He’s not wrong. Corporate firewalls post-Dreadnaught are designed to counter any network intrusions.”

“I won’t be hacking the conventional way,” Giddeon replied. “I’m going to convince the ship that certain sections of its hull are compromised. I can turn the alerts on and off, locking and unlocking zones at will.”

“Will that really work?” Orion asked.

“The only thing an override can’t ignore is a structural breach,” Giddeon explained. “One of my viruses mimics an active breach. I can even have it cut the airflow to specific rooms.”

“You want to kill everyone up there?” Vessa shook her head. “No. I can’t accept that. You’d be murdering people just doing their jobs—people with no clue what’s really happening down here.”

Giddeon raised his eyebrows. “You really think the people up there don’t know what their company’s doing?”

“She’s right,” Eddington spoke up. “I can’t agree to that either. I’m sure there are plenty of innocent people on the ship. Killing the innocent along with the guilty doesn’t sit right with me.”

“We wouldn’t need to kill them,” Uzari argued. “Only deprive them of air until they surrender or fall unconscious.”

“Well, this is all well and good in theory,” Kilner cut in loudly, “but we’ve got much more pressing matters, like being hunted! All of this is just pure speculation anyway. We have no clue if his viruses have been wiped, or if we can even operate his holo in these supposed weak zones.”

“The information on the anti-technological push—” Vessa paused, letting out an annoyed breath. “You know what? I’m tired of saying that. Let’s just call it the ATP. The data on the ATP was fairly detailed, as was my assignment to investigate why it fluctuates in specified locations. I don’t believe they would construct such an elaborate lie for no reason.”

Kilner shrugged, crossing his arms. “Who knows at this point?”

“Everything is a question mark right now,” Hinelin said, stepping into the center of the group. “So instead of talking, let’s find out. Ladies, there’s some clothes for you there.” He nodded at the pile he and Giddeon had retrieved. “Mr. Seres, was there anything written in those books that could possibly help us?”

“They’re not written in any language I’ve ever seen,” Giddeon replied.

“Dead weight then,” Hinelin muttered. Rummaging through the pile, he tossed aside a small mirror, a couple of cooking pans, parchment, and a bar of something that looked like soap. “We can’t carry most of this anyway.”

He looked around at the faces staring back at him. “Grab what you want. We move out in five minutes. Vessa, come take a look at the map.”