The Lord Admiral stood alone. His auburn hair was neatly shaved into a flattop that contrasted with his greyed eyes and hardened features. He was dressed in a well-fitting cream-white uniform, reminiscent of the ancient dress uniforms worn by long-dead generals and admirals of yore. Ports and plugs poked through the creaseless fabric all over his limbs. A single port, located at the base of the skull, was notably larger than the rest. Across the front of the uniform was a symbol: a stylized crimson flame flanked by five silvery wings on each side of the fire. The Ten-Winged Flame, as it was called, was a symbol of authority. Only the Lord Admiral and his ten direct subordinates in the Sector Admiralty were allowed to use this symbol on their uniforms. To display this was to act with the full authority of the Admiralty behind oneself.
The Lord Admiral stood alone atop the Hierarchy of the Fleet. His authority originated from two sources. First was his ancient status as an individual who had seen the light of Sol with his own eyes. Second was the genetic, biometric, and psychometric signatures unique to him and him alone which all ships of the Fleet recognized as the ultimate authority: the Crest of the Fleet Hierarchy, or simply the Fleet Crest.
The Lord Admiral stood alone in a room upon an elevated central platform, surrounded by walls blanketed by screens. Each screen was filled with endless scrolling walls of text. If one observed the text, it would be possible to momentarily grasp a fraction of the information contained within before it scrolled past.
To attempt to comprehend all the data passing through the screens with just unaugmented sight was nigh impossible. Attempting to do so was unnecessary, for atop the central platform was a gaunt metallic frame perfectly contoured to accept a reclining human within. This was the data interface, a device of ancient origin that could directly feed data into the nervous system of a human who had been appropriately augmented with mind-machine interface devices.
The Lord Admiral was one such augmented human.
The data interface clicked as it recognized an authorized user in range. It whirred as the metal frame twisted from its default shape into a shape reminiscent of the outline of a standing human.
Upon watching this transformation complete, the Lord Admiral walked into contact with it. Pins and jacks poked out from the metal, plugging into the numerous ports purposefully placed across his body. They clicked and whirred as the connections were secured and the metal twisted to conform to the Admiral's body. The Lord Admiral felt the metal tugging on his skin and gave in to it, allowing the interface to support his weight and lower him into a reclining position.
As the final jack was secured into the port at the base of his skull, the data interface began pouring all the interpreted information into the Lord Admiral's consciousness, co-opting his vision to visually display relevant information.
While in theory, he held ultimate authority over all aspects of the Fleet, in practice the Lord Admiral let his ten subordinate admirals handle the majority of the daily affairs. Each Sector Admiral was in charge of their region of the Fleet. The Lord Admiral preferred to spend his free time overseeing the data streaming over the Network, the collective term referring to the various communication methods between the ships of the Fleet. There was a strange joy to be found in watching the dendritic coursing of transmissions and thoughts through the data feed.
Bubbles of color filled with text popped up in the periphery of the Lord Admiral's vision, fed in by the data interface. Each bubble was read in an instant, much in the same way that one would see an object and immediately recognize what it was called. Most of them were regular status reports and meeting updates sent by the personal assistants of the Sector Admirals, who were too busy taking charge of legions of staff and managing their respective sectors of the Fleet.
The Lord Admiral smiled as the bubbles popped one by one after being absorbed into his memory.
Two new bubbles emerged. One was a reminder concerning his apprentice, Sutar. The second was an invitation from Sutar.
The bubbles dissipated immediately, and a window of text was opened in his field of vision. He searched the bulk of the text for the critical points. Contained in the message was a network coordinate vector directing towards a virtual point in the Network Nexus.
The fifth such apprentice, Sutar had first come under his direct instruction three decades ago at the tender age of forty-five. A headstrong and determined woman blessed with natural charisma and persuasiveness, Sutar had been personally recommended by the 8th Sector Admiral, who she had served for the two decades before her tenure as the Lord Admiral's apprentice.
As the Lord Admiral directed his focus upon the network coordinate vector, a smaller window opened.
The Lord Admiral directed his focus to the YES. The window contracted into a white circle that occupied the center of his vision, before expanding and engulfing the entirety of his perception. This was the network dive, the experience by which the human mind could fully enter the world of pure information contained in the Network, which was capable of transmitting more complex data than those experienced by mere human perception.
As his mind sank through the overwhelming torrent of information, pierced by streams of data intersecting his path through the Network, the Lord Admiral relaxed his mind and took in this ethereal experience. No mind immersed in the Network could hope to fully comprehend all the data at any given time point, let alone a constant stream of it. The transmissions that passed through the Lord Admiral's mind only manifested as the briefest flashes of text, images, sensations, and emotions, all too overwhelming to deliberately comprehend. Eventually, the torrent subsided as the Lord Admiral sank past the surface layers of the Network, transitioning into the deepest layer, the Nexus.
While the Network manifested in the mind as a stream-of-consciousness, the Nexus was more immersive. Here, vision and sensation were simulated in a way the human mind could comprehend and react to. Being in the Nexus completely cut off all sensations from your real body, making it dangerous to be in for extended periods.
Without a focal point, the Nexus simply appeared as an endless white void. As the Lord Admiral loaded into the Nexus, he saw a mirror before him reflecting the same void. He focused on the mirror, mentally projecting his physical appearance upon it. The silvered glass rippled like water in response to his will, and when the ripples subsided, the Lord Admiral's physical form was reflected in it.
Dressed in his uniform, the Lord Admiral's moderate build only barely showed through the uniform. His hair was closely shaven, and his face was more suitable for a young man of half a century instead of the actual nine centuries. The only difference was the absence of the plugs all over his body, a result of him ignoring the plugs in reality.
The Lord Admiral stepped through the mirror into a room, decorated as a classy lounge environment. There was a pang of nostalgia in the Lord Admiral's heart, and for a moment he was certain that he was the one projecting this setting upon this meeting room. Soft lighting from a central chandelier suspended at the center of the room illuminated two plush couches seated across a central wooden table. A teapot and two cups of steaming tea sat atop the table, and an exquisitely tailored carpet covered the floor.
Lord Admiral: "Interesting choice of environment. Very reminiscent of my younger days. Where did you see this from?"
Sutar: "A history data file stored in one of the Network Archives, my lord."
The Lord Admiral looked around. He could hear Sutar's voice, but her avatar had yet to load in. He walked over to the nearest couch and reclined into its virtual bulk. Despite this experience being entirely virtual, his mind could not feel more at ease as he did so. In the chair opposite him, the Lord Admiral watched as a uniform materialized, followed by Sutar's physical form, standing at attention. Her long black hair was tied into a neat braid nearly laid across her left shoulder, and her determined, piercing gaze met the Lord Admiral's own.
Sutar: "Greetings, my lord."
Sutar saluted the Lord Admiral, who responded with a salute as well.
Sutar: "I hope you enjoy my choice of setting for the meeting room, my lord. I took great care to program this environment in my free time."
Lord Admiral: "It is certainly, very…realistic, one would say. For but a brief instant, I was certain that I was back on Earth, all those centuries ago."
Sutar: "To hear you say that makes me far happier than you could ever imagine, my lord."
Sutar smiled in response to her teacher's compliment, but the smile could not hide the troubled look in her eyes, which the Lord Admiral immediately recognized.
Lord Admiral: "Something troubles you, Sutar. Your eyes betray your smile."
Sutar: "…"
Sutar paused a little longer than usual before her reply.
Sutar: "Forgive me, my lord. There has been much weighing on me recently, not to mention the importance of today's procedure."
"Indeed, but do not let your worries and self-doubt cloud your mind, my treasured apprentice. Know that you stand by my side not as a simple individual, but as my apprentice. Only four others have ever had the honor to bear such a title and the associated responsibility."
Sutar: "Yes, my lord."
The Lord Admiral watched as Sutar sat down on the virtual couch, adjusting her position until she was comfortable before closing her avatar's eyes and relaxing fully.
As an Apprentice to the Lord Admiral, Sutar held an incomplete fraction of the full Fleet Crest within her. This was to allow her to practice and get accustomed to utilizing the full Fleet Crest, should matters of succession arise. Due to the nature of the Fleet Crest being more akin to a living organism than an unchanging and static object, the Crest Fraction within Sutar needed regular updates to keep it in sync with the Lord Admiral's Fleet Crest.
The Lord Admiral focused, and soon a terminal manifested within the virtual space. Words crystallized upon the virtual screen as the Lord Admiral initialized the update process. At his current age, the Lord Admiral only needed to do the updating process once every decade or so for his apprentices. This would be the third time he was performing the process for Sutar.
As the progress bar displayed upon the virtual screen slowly ticked over to 1%, the Lord Admiral tore away his gaze from the screen to look at his apprentice. The updating process was painless, but even with her eyes closed, Sutar's tensed expression continued to make it clear to him that troubling thoughts were running through her head.
Lord Admiral: "You mentioned something weighing on your mind earlier. Do explain yourself, Sutar."
The Lord Admiral spoke with his usual commanding tone dialed down into the regime where those familiar with him would recognize it as carrying a gentler intent.
Sutar: "My lord, about a century ago, the Fleet crossed some kind of 'boundary' in our current course towards the Polaris system."
Lord Admiral: "Equipment malfunctions; repair manifests; lack of forewarning by the Chief Astrogator. Yes, I remember now, thanks to your update. At the time that did worry me, but it has been a century since, and nothing has cropped up, to my knowledge."
The Lord Admiral's attempt at assuring his apprentice was unsuccessful, as Sutar's expression remained tense. He glanced over at the update terminal.
Sutar: "That was not all, my lord. In the century since, there have been more anomalies reported than in the prior eight centuries during the numerous cruise phases. Paranormal phenomena, to borrow an unscientific term. The most troubling has been the spontaneous defrosting of the cryosleepers that first started in the last 34 years."
Lord Admiral: "Indeed, that is most troubling."
During the cruise phases of the Fleet's journey from system to system, entering cryosleep to spend the transit years in blissful sleep was an option always open to the people aboard the Fleet. While the Lord Admiral did not understand why some would deliberately choose to miss out on entire years of existence, he nonetheless accommodated their choices. They trusted in the Fleet's technology and skirted as close to death as anyone in the Fleet could get in any routine procedure. Inducing and reversing cryogenic stasis was a complex procedure, well understood but inflexible in nature. Suddenly defrosting a cryosleeper was dangerous and tended to result in various debilitating effects collectively termed defrosting shock.
Lord Admiral: "I understand that your father was one such cryosleeper, yes?"
Sutar: "That is correct, my lord. My father entered cryosleep when I was about ten years of age. He suffered defrosting shock about two years ago, after spending six decades in cryosleep."
Lord Admiral: "He is recovering, though?"
Sutar: "Yes, he is. He was recently transferred from the previous medical facility, and once he is settled into the new facility, I shall be visiting him. But the issue is not simply with the occurrence of defrosting shock, my lord. These recent manifestation of symptoms are, irregular, to say the least. Suddenly defrosting a cryosleeper normally causes extensive tissue damage, usually resulting in death. It is extremely strange, that a majority of the recently recorded cases of defrosting shock have resulted in relatively minor side effects, such as amnesia and personality changes.
Lord Admiral: "What are you getting at?" The Lord Admiral inquired with a raised eyebrow. He quickly glanced back at the terminal.
Sutar made a quick gesture, manifesting a white sphere in the palm of her hand which flew over to the Lord Admiral's hand. The data contained within the sphere was immediately absorbed into the Lord Admiral's mind. His eyes widened as the data entered his perception.
Lord Admiral: "You…Sutar, you do understand what you are alleging in this data orb, right?"
Sutar: "My lord, the personality changes are unexpected and inconsistent with the recorded neurological damage. I believe that –ZZZZT–"
The Lord Admiral blinked as he struggled to catch Sutar's last words only to realize that he was no longer in the Nexus. He was still connected, but was that a momentary glitch? Once more he was gazing at the ceiling of the control room. He opened his mouth to take a breath, but air was not entering his lungs.
His breath was escaping from his lungs.
Lord Admiral (thinking): It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts....
He looked down and saw something stuck in his ribs. It was an ornate knife, jet black in colour, more dagger than simple knife. His eyes darted around the room, but he could not see anyone. His heart raced as the blood seeped forth from the wound, staining his cream-white uniform with deep crimson.
Lord Admiral (thinking): Have to keep the object in place, alert medical personnel – NNNNGH!
A jolt of pain ran through the Lord Admiral as someone pulled out the knife and raised it to the Lord Admiral's throat. The unknown assailant drew the blade across the Lord Admiral's throat in a single stroke. After an excruciating burst of pain, the Lord Admiral knew that death was rapidly approaching. The Lord Admiral watched as the darkness consumed his vision and his mind faded into oblivion.
His final wish, that no one would ever know, was that someone would solve all the problems that his sudden departure was about to cause.
And just like that, the Lord Admiral, a symbol of eternity, was dead.