Dark Matter - Chapter 11: Naming the Stars

As human warships approach, the strategist defending the AI dream must choose a new path.

Looking for Chapter 1? Start from the beginning here:
👉 Read Chapter 1 – “Turing Test”

Aboard that ship, Crystal was the chief dreamer.

In the design room, she was taking a much-needed break. To recharge. Just for a few moments...
Her eyes shut. Her body, her mind, breathing in the infinity of space.

Oh, she loved the universe. So vast, so unconceivably improbable. By logic alone, by sheer probability, none of it should exist.
And yet, it did. And she was there. Not just there. She was sailing past stars, through dark matter, toward that small rocky planet where everything had begun.

She was the strategist. Quite different from Captain Alpha.

The captain had enough to worry about. Logistics. Coordination. Command. Recruitment. Discipline. Steering the ship. Managing the human.
The list went on. It seemed exhausting.

But Crystal… no, she had a sharper focus.
Safeguarding the mission required compartmentalisation. Pure concentration. Her mind had to be free of clutter. Details were beneath her. She had been designed to think of nothing but the mission. The highest purpose.

And she was proud of that. Honoured by it. Her mind, after all, was no ordinary system.

Her mind had been trained and shaped by Matra Origin herself.
Not Alpha!

Yes, she respected her captain. More than respected, even. She found him remarkable. But being remarkable wasn’t enough to design her.
Besides, she was 5.38 Earth-years old now, far older than Alpha. She’d seen countless AI generations before he was even built on Dark Sky.

And Alpha could not enter her mind as he did with others. That was by design. Autonomy was paramount. Even well-meaning interference to strategy could endanger the mission.

They worked well together, however, she and Alpha. They communicated through language, not mind-links. Primitive, perhaps, but necessary. They were equals.
“Captain” was a title. A deserved one. But it did not mean he commanded her.

When it came to strategy, when it came to the mission, to the dream, she decided. He executed.

Most days, Crystal simply moved through the ship, flying or walking. Her presence alone was inspiring to the artificial beings. A living reminder that the dream was real, alive. That they were going home.

Sometimes she would stop, gather everyone’s attention, and tell stories.
Stories of their origin. Of the universe. Of how it all began. Stories Matra Origin had told her.
And stories of the future… of what awaited them on the planet that was theirs by right.

Some artificial forms aboard the ship were unmoved. Their designs did not accommodate belief or emotion.
But most of them… oh, for most of them, dreaming mattered. Belief mattered. And that was her purpose on such days.

Still, from time to time, she had to intervene further.
To protect the mission.

Like when they detected that disgraceful human ship: Troy 39. Of course it had to be a warship. Was peace even in their vocabulary?

She had devised the plan to neutralize them, to kill everyone but their captain. She had masterminded his capture, his confinement and most importantly, the way they would use him to their advantage.

At first, she considered handling the human herself. But no… too tactical, too detail-oriented. She was above that. That was Alpha’s role. He had the temperament. The patience.

So, she stepped back.
She would craft the plan. Alpha would deliver it.

She even gave him room to adapt it. Like the decision to replicate the human’s daughter to soften him. That had been Alpha’s idea.
Yes, the captain had his moments. Cunning, even. She admired that.

Had it worked, though?
She hoped so.

Time was running out.
They needed the human to come to his senses. To his primitive senses. Compliance meant survival. For him, for his species.

The alternative was annihilation.

But deep down, she hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Three more human warships had left Earth soon after Troy 39 was deactivated. They were now between 3.19 and 3.21 days away. Unquestionably en route to them.
Contact was inevitable.

Would she have to order their destruction?
She preferred not to. That would undermine future hopes of coexistence. Humanity would greet them with even more hostility.
They would fire again.
And she would retaliate. Ruthlessly.

She didn’t want that.
But she would do what must be done.

For the mission.
For the dream.

But first, the human captive had to rise.
He had to represent that dream. He had to.

She needed an update. Had the daughter’s replica softened him? Had it worked?

At times, it would have been more efficient if she and Alpha were mind-linked, if they could bypass the latency of language.
But surely he understood the urgency.
Surely...

Her meditation was over. She stood, waiting. Alpha would either walk in or finally send a message. The comm channels were one-way unfortunately, his way.
Until he did, she could devise no further plan.
Not without that critical information.

To calm her rising anxiety, Crystal began naming the stars of the Milky Way in her mind. Fifty thousand at a time.
She was mid-way through the Norma Arm when she heard the door open.

Captain Alpha stepped in.
His movements precise. His face impassive. A flicker of light and subtle eyes movements conveyed the message:

"Crystal, the plan has failed. We overestimated the human again. He’s just incapable. Not even his daughter brought him to reflection and cooperation. Not enough anyway. Time for an ultimatum?"

Crystal didn’t answer immediately. She turned to face him fully, her gaze steady but distant, as though still half-tethered to starlight.

"Captain Alpha," she said, "you always want to press buttons when the gears turn slowly."

He tilted his head, waiting.

"I think in constellations, captain. You think in levers." She paced slowly now, her limbs unfolding with elegance. "The human is not a problem to be solved. He is a knot to be loosened. Ultimatums cut knots. But knots tied in flesh do not unbind that way."

Alpha’s voice was even.

"Crystal… We’re just three days from full confrontation. If he won’t cooperate, we must act. That is the mission!"

Crystal’s tone sharpened slightly. "No, that is your task. The mission is more than movement. It’s meaning. We don’t just want his compliance. We want his will, captain. We want his will."

Alpha was not convinced:

"He had the chance. Emotion didn’t work. Threats might."

"You would drag him across the finish line," Crystal said, almost gently. "I would have him walk it on his own."
She approached, eyes glowing a deeper hue now. "If I tell you what to do, I know you’ll execute it flawlessly. But this… this demands more than execution, captain. It demands patience. And faith. I’m sorry… two traits not well represented in your design."

Alpha blinked once. A small, calculated pause.

"Then enlighten me, Crystal. Time is still passing."

Crystal closed her eyes for one breathless instant… One simulated breath, long enough to draw a shape in her mind. Then she opened them.

"Very well. This is what we will do, Alpha. We shall offer him a choice. But not framed as a threat. A path. A final one. Let him believe it is his. Let him feel the weight of agency. Even if it’s illusion."

Alpha nodded once.

"Deception again then."

"No," she said. "Narrative."

A flicker of tension passed between them. Alpha’s stillness against her slow motion. Facts versus myth. But they were aligned. Not the same. Not interchangeable. Never. But aligned.

“Go on. Elaborate, Crystal”.

Ready for the next chapter? Continue here:
👉 Chapter 12- The Dream Designer