"I do spend most of my life on a ship, yes," Kawathra confirmed, pulling up a holographic layout of the Abyssal Sorrow. "Ships require constant recalculation. Supply distributions, personnel assignments, combat simulations. And when we make planetfall..." She gestured at the countless spreadsheets floating around them. "The data multiplication is exponential. Your Earth alone has generated more anomalous datasets than the last five conquered worlds combined. I can only stretch my mind so far until it snaps."

  Piotr studied the ship's layout curiously in one of the presented images. "So, how often do Datamancers actually see combat?"

  "Physical combat? Never. We're too valuable." She pulled up network architecture diagrams that were too maddeningly complex to interpret, fractal patterns within patterns. "However… When we jack into the crystalloid networks to process deep data or to correct errors... that's where the real danger lies."

  "Your networks are dangerous? How?"

  "The networks connect everything. Every gun, every Corpse Seeker, every ship, every piece of crystalloid-based technology," she clarified, "There’s the danger of overworking myself to near death by splitting my mind into too many streams, but the worst…. The worst is when, in entropy-dominated dimensions, things get in.”

  “Things?”

  “Memetic infections. Viral thoughtforms. Corrupted, hostile data that thinks. Digital Conceptoids."

  "You fight computer viruses then?"

  "I fight entropic things that get into the fleet-net with my mind… in the deepest network folds, yes." Kawathra pulled up her death records. "I've died four times. Each time from something that crawled out of a dying dimension and infected our net. A Wormwood variant called Sasha One that replaced every third data point with liminal abyssal madness. A recursive loop entity that tried to turn me into itself. A thing that called itself the Grandfather Paradox that made me experience my own death backwards. A network-type infectoid abomination that fed on first person observations. Each one… horrid in its own way. Each breaking hundreds of Datamancers before we’re able to correct the fold.”

  "That sounds... worse than regular combat."

  "Yeah. Death always pretty much sucks,” Kawathra tapped her suit collar. “The safety mechanism here chops off my head when my mind reaches a threshold of “otherness”... if the memetic breaks me, takes over my thoughts.”

  “Damn,” Piotr let out. “You got a murder-collar on? To fight memetics?”

  “A safety… kill switch. The Incarnator brings you back, but you never forget the sensation of your mind being... rewritten. Deleted. Corrupted. Then there's seeing the Wheel of Death that hungers for souls…" She shuddered, feathers rippling. "That's why I need someone who can remind me of better things. Elegant algorithms. Clean data structures. The satisfaction of a perfectly optimized spreadsheet. Someone to maintain archives of who I was before each death, to hold me and tell me about myself… so I don't lose myself completely."

  Before Piotr could think of what to say to that revelation, Kawathra's eyes flashed to a new chart with a picture of a colorful dragon girl on it that bloomed in front of the others.

  "Who's that?" Piotr asked.

  "Some interesting new data." The Datamancer’s silver ring-covered talons danced through the air, reorganizing information. "Division 881 recently received an Omnid Knight replacement for our losses."

  "Losses?"

  "Yep. We lost two units somehow. I didn't tell you about it earlier because I didn't want you to feel sad and get distracted from my questionnaire. Their deaths… Brought down our overall rating a little. Beta-Knight Zyra and Beta-Scrutimancer Nadera. They were killed by crystalloid thralls, according to Marshal Commandant Nexxali's report." She frowned, pulling up the incident documentation. "Hrm. The report is suspiciously sparse on details. Fourteen words total. That's statistically anomalous for a combat death report."

  A new window materialized, displaying the service record of ‘Beta-Knight Galateya’.

  "Beta-Knight Galateya Selene Belthys Frontenachii," Kawathra read aloud. "This is... all unusual. Very unusual."

  "What's unusual?"

  "She's Omnid nobility but is ranked as a provisional Beta-Knight. That's like being a…. President working as a janitor." Kawathra pulled up more records, her excitement growing. "Look at this odd educational history! Raised in a time-dilated bubble by Doctor Iowsh himself. The Thunderbird!"

  "Is that significant?"

  "Doctor Iowsh is the leading expert on synthetic consciousness. He's trying to create linear artificial intelligence using... soul splicing. Hrmm… Oh!" Her eyes widened. "More strangeness. I can’t access Galateya’s gun data even though she’s been assigned to 881. Aha! Look at that! There are two guns and Corpse Seeker currently in diagnostic mode. Not sure what’s going on there.”

  Piotr watched as Kawathra dove deeper into the data, pulling up psychological profiles, training records, and evaluation notes. With each new piece of information, the magpie grew more animated.

  "Very sus. This dragon has zero pradavarian blood bonds," she read. "Zero! How does an Omnid commander have no kobolds? That's like... like being a general with no army. A conductor with no orchestra. A spreadsheet with no data!"

  "Maybe she doesn't believe in having kobolds?" Piotr suggested. “What’s being a kobold like?”

  “Complete, unquestionable obedience to your dragon commander.”

  “So… slavery?”

  "Blood bonds aren't slavery, they're..." Kawathra paused, beak clicking. "Actually, from a human perspective, I suppose they might appear that way. Permanent servitude enforced by blood magic that causes agony if disobeyed." She tilted her head. "Yes, I can see how that might seem problematic to your species."

  "Just a bit," Piotr said dryly.

  "Ah!" Kawathra pulled up more data. "Galateya experiences physical discomfort in proximity to Celesteel architecture. Repeated conflicts with authority too… She's a Taniwha!”

  "What's a Taniwha?"

  "Shape-shifting water dragons. They're psychologically oriented toward balance and justice rather than fear and consumption." Kawathra's talons flew across the interface, cross-referencing more data. "No wonder she can't tolerate the fleet ships. Hopefully she’ll do a better job down here."

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  A new chart popped up. Kawathra went over it rapidly.

  "Beta-Knight Galateya is already on the surface," she read. "Arrived via an independent, leased glider instead of using the standard gate protocol. And she's... oh my. She's somehow bound her first kobold!”

  "That was fast."

  "Within hours of arrival!" Kawathra bobbed. "A human male. Ashcroft Julian Clifford. Local resident, no prior military experience, owns property near the vampire nest we destroyed." She paused, reading deeper. "That's the same human Marshal Nexxali just reported as instrumental in the crystalloid engagement. Sus, sus, sus."

  “What’s sus?”

  "97.03% probability of significant fabrication," Kawathra said without hesitation. "The timing is too convenient. The lack of detail is too suspicious." She pulled up a probability matrix chart that flashed red. "Something incredibly significant is being concealed."

  "Are you going to report it?"

  "Report what? Suspicious data patterns?" Kawathra's beak clicked. "Commander Sillicia is busy excavating the vampire vault and she doesn't care about data irregularities as long as results are delivered. We found an excellent vampire nest. We are ranked first globally in conquest metrics."

  She pulled up a new spreadsheet, this one comparing all pradavarian divisions currently on Earth. Division 881 sat at the top, highlighted in gold.

  "See? We're winning hard," Kawathra announced with satisfaction. "Though I suspect our lead is temporary. Division 943 just reported finding what they believe to be Merlin's tomb in Wales."

  "Is it real?" Piotr asked.

  "87.88% probability it's a tourist attraction from 1947," Kawathra replied. "But they're excavating it anyway. Very thoroughly. With plasma cutters. Ah! I know what to do about this! I’m feeling inspired!"

  She tapped her ring, initiating a call. A hologram of Commander Sillicia materialized, the Wendigo covered in grime.

  "Datamancer," Sillicia acknowledged briskly. "What do you need now?"

  "Commander, I've identified several data anomalies regarding our new Beta-Knight assignment," Kawathra reported. "Galateya Frontenachii."

  Sillicia's expression soured like she'd bitten into a rotten lemon. "That waste of scales? What anomalies?"

  "She just bound a human kobold."

  "Of course she has," Sillicia's feathers bristled with irritation. "Probably tripped and accidentally blood-bound the first useless primitive she stumbled into. That spawnling couldn't organize a parade in a straight line, let alone properly bind a servant."

  Piotr noticed the venom in her tone. The Commander seemed to despise Galateya with a burning intensity that seemed personal.

  "Additionally," Kawathra continued, "Marshal Nexxali's combat report shows statistical irregularities suggesting—"

  "I don't care what Nexxali's doing as long as she keeps that incompetent lizard away from anything important," Sillicia interrupted. "But if you want to investigate things… personally while you’re down here, go ahead. Maybe you'll find something I can use to finally get that embarrassment transferred to dead world planetside duty where she belongs."

  "Permission to conduct field reconnaissance?" the magpie bobbed.

  "Granted. Take Seeker Kappa. And Datamancer?" Sillicia's smile turned predatory. "If you find evidence of incompetence, document everything. I want enough ammunition to bury that scales-for-brains so deep even her great-grandmother can't dig her out."

  The transmission ended.

  "Dang, she really hates Knight Galateya," Piotr observed.

  "Hate is suboptimal," Kawathra said, already moving toward a section of the Corpse Seeker's organic wall. "But useful for my purposes. Field investigation approved! Yay! Follow, follow, we are going data hunting!"

  She hopped off the couch and pressed her ring against the wall, and a section of it irised open, revealing a smaller crystalline chamber. Inside, coiled like a sleeping snake, was another Corpse Seeker—this one only about the size of a UPS delivery van.

  "Corpse Seeker 881-Kappa," Kawathra announced. "Perfect for urban reconnaissance!"

  They climbed inside. The interior was more cramped than Alpha. Kawathra settled into what looked like a pilot's position, though there were no visible controls. She simply placed her hands on two crystalline nodes, and the smaller Seeker shuddered to life.

  "Kappa, wake up," she commanded. "Reconnaissance zero-visibility mode. Minimal heat signature."

  The creature, as Piotr was starting to think of these things as creatures rather than vehicles, slithered out of its parent, emerging from Alpha's side like some disturbing birth. Through the transparent sections of Kappa's body, Piotr watched the scorched vampire compound pass by as they rapidly climbed out of the massive crater.

  Then they were moving.

  Fast.

  The glassified terrain flew by, then burning trees.

  The valley blurred past in a stream of green and brown. Piotr's stomach lurched as Kappa undulated over terrain that would have destroyed any normal vehicle, plowing through rotten logs, bushes, trees and rocks with ease.

  "Detecting the target vehicle via orbital eyes," Kawathra announced as they entered Cascade proper. A holographic window materialized, showing a red Cherokee moving through the streets. "Scan confirms three occupants. Dragon-type Omnid, her gun unit, human male, and..." she paused, enhancing the image. "A pradavarian serval, Marshal Nexxali."

  Through the enhanced view, Piotr could see into the vehicle. The curvy dragon girl, Galateya according to the chart he saw earlier, sat in the front passenger seat. A dark-haired human male was driving. And in the back, sprawled across the entire seat like she owned it, was a cat girl in a tight suit. The jeep’s trunk was filled with grocery bags to the brim, topped with garden gnomes for some reason.

  The Marshal's head suddenly snapped up, golden eyes staring directly at their surveillance window.

  "Darn. She's detected us," Kawathra noted. "Servals have excellent vision.”

  In the Cherokee, Nexxali was now bouncing up and down, pointing at the concealed Corpse Seeker and yelling something. The vehicle pulled over to the side of the road.

  Galateya emerged first, her scales shifting to orange leaves like she was a painting of autumn personified. She was tall, imposing, and looked thoroughly annoyed. The human stayed in the vehicle. Nexxali tumbled out with a hiss, still pointing furiously.

  "Very suspicious," Kawathra commented. "The Marshal appears to be out of uniform."

  Kappa slowed to a stop about ten meters from the Cherokee. Kawathra tapped a crystal, and their side became transparent from within, though Piotr suspected it remained opaque from outside.

  "Whoever's in that concealed Corpse Seeker," Galateya called out, voice billowing across the clearing, "identify yourself and explain why you're following us."

  "Datamancer Kawathra and Research Assistant StormoLyx, conducting routine reconnaissance data assessment for Division 881!" Kawathra replied briskly.

  "Routine?" Nexxali huffed. "Since when is stalking a superior officer through town considered routine?"

  “When the data surrounding your post is incredibly odd,” Kawathra replied, eyes glinting dangerously, a dastardly grin spreading across the edges of her beak. “Some things must be investigated deeper. It’s as simple as that.”

  The wax speaker suddenly came alive in Piotr's ear. It was his inner voice, back from its mysterious absence.

  “Make friends with the human and his companions,” it suggested. “He's likely important, as he is clearly friends with the two aliens. To progress your relationship with Linari, you MUST convince Datamancer Kawathra that supporting Galateya is optimal. Consider this: Commander Sillicia is a Wendigo who desires pain and fear and turns humans into wall art, kept alive and suffering for centuries. Galateya, on the other hand, is a Taniwha who seeks justice. Commander Sillicia's hatred against an Omnid who actually cares for humans must not prevail. Use any means necessary available to you to protect the dragon girl, her human boyfriend and their cute cat girl friend!”

  Piotr balked at the sudden clarity of the advice.

  Kawathra's talons were already dancing across holographic interfaces, pulling up data feeds.

  "Something is definitely verrrry wrong here,” she muttered to herself. “Oh wow. Marshal Nexxali appears seriously intoxicated. Her pupils look dilated, motor functions appear impaired… I know! Let’s see what dirt I can find on this human consort…”