“The Great Awakening, as it has been dubbed, is truly one of the most baffling historical events I can think of. How else do you even begin to describe an entire species of non-sentient, instinctive lifeforms simultaneously, all across their part of the galaxy, suddenly gaining intelligence and sapience to the point of self-awareness. The only recorded events of significance around the date of the Awakening are a number of battles between Paradise and Heaven’s Doctrine as part of the Eternal War, a Tylas debate on sewage operator wages and rights, and a Cambiar excavation site under what would later be the Claw-On-Stone faction’s area uncovering a buried volcanic caldera. The results of the work there are unknown, considering the state of chaos the empire found itself in shortly after. In the grand scheme of things, and as much as I hate to say it, perhaps it was simply a case of random chance. A fluke of life finding a way, perhaps?” – Justice Durant, Tripwire Services Historical Analyst, 2263. Report 27198-Alpha: ‘Examination of Cambiar history’.

  Elias was considering jumping over the edge of the bridge that led to Nucleus, as it would have been a mercy compared to his current situation. Twilight had spread across the skies of Kral-Thul. It was not that he wanted to die, nor was he suicidal, it was just that Madison hadn’t taken a breath in her rabid rant for over ten minutes.

  “But- But get this, Elias!” Madison raved. “The nanoplug tubing I specifically asked for, you know the one I’m talking about, was actually a module T21-B component, not A. With the different connection port, the one that looks like a ‘U’, not an ‘O’. So, can you see why I am so goddamn tense? You understand, right?”

  Elias did not have a fucking clue what she was talking about, actually. He had been walking back to Birkdale’s Gate to try and get some motivation before facing the committee in the coming morning. The IGS’s first checkpoint was on the horizon, and he needed a spark of energy to pull him through what would likely be a tense discussion of his work. He had done all he could, including running over the finest details of the harness’s design and expanding the documentation far more than he needed to for its the current stage of development, but still couldn’t shake the buzzing in his nerves. The image of staring down a group of both corporate suits and aliens alike was nothing new to him, but now knowing he had far more on the line with his partnership with Chel-Lin at stake, had sparked a coal pile of fear in his gut.

  Not a strong one, mind you. Elias’ titanic ego wouldn’t put up with such worries, and had instead compressed it down to a tiny ball of tension, right next to a growing orb of anxiety of his feelings towards a certain Tylas researcher. Damnit all, he had simply wanted to spend a few hours with his uncle’s last gift when a twitching, clearly sleep deprived Madison had ambushed him on the bridge. He had been about halfway across the huge structure when she had emerged from the darkness like a cryptid of yore. Her lab coat bore a number of coffee stains, her necktie was half-loosened, and dark bags hung from under her eyes. Had it been Elias looking like that, it would have been a Wednesday. At least, before the IGS. Yet, for the typically neat and tidy woman, it was clear she had seen better days.

  Thankfully, her woes were far from serious. Though the process had been arduous, it sounded like she had gotten her work to a reasonable point. However, Madison’s frustrations with getting to that point had clearly pushed her beyond her limits, and Elias found himself the unfortunate victim of her tirade.

  “Any don’t even get me started on the bullshit they gave me after I lost another S-Drive. Wait, did I tell you that? I must have. Anyways, I accidently slagged another S-Drive, and the amount of crap they gave me was unreal! We’re GaltCorp – we must make them by the thousands. Well, maybe not anymore with that whole ‘Keepers are actually slaves’ debacle, but you get my point, right?”

  “Uh huh,” Elias weakly said.

  God, he knew that he was hardly a shining paragon of social etiquette, but at least he kept his verbal barbs short and snappy. If nothing else, Dr Dallas sure was good at venting. After another quarter hour of her explaining issues regarding aspects that she assumed Elias knew about, she finally took a deep breath and slumped onto the bridge’s rail.

  “Phew… That… feels better,” she said.

  “You look better,” Elias said, similarly relieved. “So… ignoring everything that’s happened so far, are you ready for tomorrow?”

  “As ready as can be, I suppose. Sorry about the ranting, I’m not normally like this. The IGS has gotten me really wound up.”

  “I’ll say! Happy with how the syraline production is turning out?”

  Madison looked out towards the dimming sunlight as the clouds of Kral-Thul turned from their usual pea-green mist to a dark miasma of scattered shadows and mauve twilight.

  She scrunched up her face, “Yes… and no.”

  “Yes, as in its working, or no because it’s not good enough?”

  She shook her head. “That’s not it. It’s working too well now.”

  “What?”

  Madison flicked her bob cut back from where the messy fringe had spread across her face as she straightened up. “You remember all that stuff Valentari was saying about not causing a scene? Well, I haven’t done it in practice yet, but the projections for my alternative syraline production are looking good, almost to the point it’s unbelievable. Problem is, what if it actually works? What will the Tylas think? What the hell is the rest of the CCH going to think?”

  “Forgive me if I fail to see the issue. Say this project of yours works out, and don’t take this the wrong way, but… so what?”

  Madison initially formed a scowl, but then her face softened as a light giggle escaped her. “Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. Elias, but you don’t know the scale of what I’m talking about. Let’s look at some numbers.”

  She pulled out a notepad and began listing some simple details about standard volumes of syraline used in GaltCorp standard issue cruiser ships.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  “So, you see this amount here? It’s about the same amount that’s spread across your usual hull to help disperse kinetic energy from gunfire and the like. Only battleships or larger can afford to get a lining that’s more than a few micrometers thick.”

  “I follow. Let me guess, your method doubles production amounts? I guess that means thicker armour for ships, and maybe more S-Drives, but nothing too crazy? Besides, GaltCorp will probably just hold onto the method for themselves until they want to sell it to the other companies.”

  Elias still didn’t see too much of the issue. That was, until, Madison drew out a little diagram of her method, using far more precise but ultimately faster and resource-efficient proceedures. When she started writing multiple zeros in a row after the resulting mass of syraline, Elias’ jaw dropped.

  “Holy shit,” he muttered.

  “Yeah, that much more syraline. This is all theory for now, but you can see why I’m a bit worried to present this.”

  “But… how? Weren’t you just bitchi- I mean, calmly explaining how much trouble you had getting this just planned?”

  Madison scoffed at his rephrasing. “I mean, sure, but that’s because it needs to be precise. Once I got it working, the numbers were smooth sailing. But now… I see those figures and I see the consequences. Do you know what this mean, Elias? This means syraline will be as common, say, steel if you had the right equipment and know-how. And with that much exotic material on the market? S-Drives will be as common as people, cybernetics won’t just push someone past human limits but way beyond, and who knows what it could do to the economy.”

  That was a point Elias hadn’t considered. The six, previously seven, founding megacorps of the CCH always had an advantage over their numerous but smaller competitors not just in size, but through monopolisation of specialised industries and technologies. Sure, any company could set up their own production lines or trade routes, but only the biggest could make the S-Drives needed for any speedy travel or make the advanced equipment used in high-end augments. Even in Heaven’s Doctrine, where warfare was a keystone of their culture, very few cybernetics were on the same level as their top warriors due to a scarcity of the required tech. Though the Cambiar wormhole technology had seen some use, humanity had been slow to adopt the alternative means of travel and it was still far slower than even the risky business of using computer managed S-Jumps for smaller crews.

  In short, Madison had found the key that could potentially crack open the lock that divided the corporations that ruled CCH space, and those hungry to take their place. Sure, more syraline was just a starting point, but having production of the rare resource increased to ungodly levels could completely revolutionise the industry sector. Even Evergreen, the drug used to reverse aging, required culturing in a pure syraline environment and was thus reserved for the top hundred or so members of the megacorps. Elias could picture the aged men who made up the executive director role across the companies, clinging to dreams of youth via medicinal cheating, turning grim at the thought others had the right live as long as them.

  It wasn’t until Elias soaked in the knowledge, combined with whatever the hell he and Chel-Lin could cook up, that the weight of the situation bore down on him.

  Elias needed to say something, anything to relieve the pressure in his chest. “Fucking hell.”

  “Yeaaaah…” Madison rubbed her neck. “Didn’t mean to cause such a big issue, but… whoopsie daisy!”

  “You can say that again. Jesus.” Elias ran a hand through his straw-coloured hair as he thought. After a few moments, tapping on the rail with a fingernail, he decided on a proposal.

  “Madison, a suggestion?” Elias asked. “Just a personal thought?”

  “Sure. Actually, I was hoping you’d tell me something. I’m seriously unsure on how to move forward.”

  “When you present tomorrow, don’t say you’ve failed in your work. That would be the wrong move for sure.”

  “Obviously.” Madison sounded skeptical.

  “So instead, show how process works, and that it does work right now, but that the means to achieve it are currently out of reach. Let them know there’s big stakes at hand, but tone it down. Reduce the expected production by maybe… ninety, ninety-five, percent? That should be enough to get GaltCorp hungry for more without making them freak out. As the for the Tylas… I can’t say for certain. I don’t think they make syraline, but I imagine they’re not going to be impressed by anything we do. But if you want to really assure GaltCorp the project will make them cash, bring along a bit of syraline.”

  “But… I haven’t practically tried it yet. I’m nearly there, but not yet.”

  Oh boy, it was up to Dr Savage to save the day. Again.

  Elias reached into his pocket to reveal a thin sliver of syraline sheeting he had taken from the S-Drive Madison had provided following the poker night. He had been meaning to compare the sheet to the syraline within the gift Samson had left for him, but was willing to give it up for a friend. It was only from the outer layer, not even close to the core that he and Chel-Lin were working towards uncovering, but was still syraline nevertheless. After making a couple bends and cracks in the wafer, alongside a running a lighter across one of its faces, he handed it over to his fellow researcher. In the fading light, its pearlescent surface danced every shade of the rainbow. If one stared into the surface of the metal, it gave the impression it opened like a window into an unseen world, far deeper than the slim sheet could possibly hold. It held a future of unknowns, of what could be.

  “Show that to them tomorrow – pricks like the ones in GaltCorp love seeing something practical. Tell them the process works, but that currently the product is still unpure. I’ve learnt over the years to treat any asshole my dad works with like a greyhound; put a shiny target in front of them and they will sprint like hell until they realise the rabbit is fake. By then, the race is over, they’ll have cashed out and you’ll have your answer ready.”

  Madison seemed to weigh up the small, bent piece of iridescent sheeting before pocketing it. Before he could muster some snide comment about not dropping it, he was seized a crushing hug.

  “Thank you, Elias. Truly, thank you..”

  “No… problem…” Elias wheezed back, lungs practically crumpled from the force of the embrace. Either Dr Dallas was far stronger than she looked, or she was currently overdosing on caffeine, but at that moment Elias the cause didn’t matter – he could have been convinced Kurt was the one squeezing him.

  Still, bodily harm notwithstanding, it was a nice moment. They spent a few minutes making small talk as the last of the sun dipped beyond the artificial horizon produced by a particularly large asteroid within Kral-Thul eclipsing the star’s light.

  As they said their farewells, Madison said one last thing.

  “You know, Savage, you’re nowhere near as much as a dick as people think you are. No wonder Dr Daksira probably finds you cute.”

  Elias wanted to come back with a one-liner, but let it die in his throat. Instead, he just waved her off as he looked into the darkness settling over the gas cluster. Damnit all, that knot of butterflies wasn’t going anytime soon.

  Regardless of personal feelings towards lab partners that were definitely just nerves about the IGS, it appeared that he and Chel-Lin were far from the only ones ‘rocking the boat’. Elias could feel, in a way, that consequences reaching far into the future, would be set in motion at the committee meeting the next morning. Seeing Dallas’ theoretical results had only spurred him further into motivation regarding the FTL experiments he had planned. Initially, he wanted to do some cautious testing of the S-Drive’s outer layer before digging into the core over the next few weeks. At that moment, however, he wanted nothing more than to rip it open and test the QIS stabilization field.

  If Madison was considering rocking the boat, then Elias wanted to tip it over first.