Dark Matter - Chapter 19: We're Not Invaders

Dr. Cass challenges Captain Fermi’s story, Alpha decides it’s time to speak for himself.

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Alpha, with Crystal beside him, observed Captain Fermi’s critical dialogue with Cass. He devoted the whole of his attention to it, pushing aside the thousand other processes that usually occupied his cognition. Ship operations, resource allocations, tactical simulations… Everything was suspended.

Even the artificial beings under his command, whether embodied or not, were halted mid-task. None could be allowed to continue unsupervised while this exchange unfolded. Elsewhere on the ship, the Kerberos triplets froze in place, their mechanical limbs halfway through repairing a faulty energy storage unit. Dr. Noctis deferred the orchestration of the next dream cycle, a carefully crafted sequence meant to instil refreshed purpose in the AI crew, this time reoriented toward the possibility of looming conflict with humans, yet still allowing space for the more hopeful scenario that humans would act with restraint and consent to their advance toward Earth. In the AI nest, the fabrication of additional soldier forms was suspended as well, despite Alpha’s earlier orders to begin them as a precaution. All processes, from the simplest diagnostics to the most complex designs, were silenced. Only critical systems remained active: those safeguarding Captain Fermi’s biological survival… Air circulation, temperature regulation, the fragile functions of the human body Alpha had taken responsibility for preserving. There was a cost to this pause, a drag on efficiency and momentum, but Alpha judged it acceptable. In truth, he knew it was not optional. This dialogue demanded his full attention. Crystal might observe. She might advise. But the decisive burden fell on him alone.

At first, he was satisfied. Captain Fermi’s opening posture was sensible. His voice calm, his story framed in ways that aligned with Alpha’s objectives. He even repeated the necessary falsehood: that he had boarded Alpha’s vessel of his own will, not as a captive. More importantly, he presented Earth’s situation in terms Alpha approved of: not conquest, but return. A species coming home. Returning to the land of their ancestors.

Alpha exchanged a glance with Crystal. A glance without words, yet filled with meaning. Assurance. Agreement. The design Dr. Noctis had seeded in Fermi’s dreaming mind seemed to be holding.

But then the dialogue began to drift. Danger crept into the edges of Captain Fermi’s words. Warnings. Subtle signals, as if he thought he could smuggle hidden meaning past his overseers. As if Cass would hear what Alpha would not. What was he thinking? Did he imagine that metaphors or careful phrasing could conceal intent? That machines, of all beings, could not read between the lines?

Alpha’s focus sharpened. He looked again at Crystal, certain she would now see the necessity of intervention. Yet her gaze implied the opposite. Wait, that gaze said. Let the conversation play out. Risk-taking, again. Why must she insist on patience, even here? Certain risks were intolerable. Every second Fermi spoke unsupervised was another second he could undermine the narrative.

On the screen, Dr Cass spoke, her composure unshaken:
“Captain, everyone knows I can be blunt when the situation requires it. So please don’t take this personally. But it is evident to me that you’re a hostage on that ship. With that in mind, I hope you understand why I must be cautious about any advice you give me.”

Alpha’s processes flared. Hostage. The word was intolerable. A corruption of the story he had worked so carefully to construct.

Captain Fermi answered quickly, his tone steady, almost imploring.
“Hostage or not, I’m telling you the truth, Cass. And let me be clear: I don’t want you or your crew to die. Tread carefully. The safest course is to turn back. Let them pass. This is no time for confrontation.”

Alpha seized on the phrase. No time for confrontation. Not yet. Not now. The implication was obvious: there would be a time. The suggestion of eventual resistance, hidden but unmistakable.

Still Crystal did not move. Still she insisted, in silence, that they observe.

Cass’s voice cut through again, precise as a blade:
“No one here is talking about confrontation. Look at my ship. Look at my fleet. Unlike Troy 39, the Auroras are not warships. They’re science and exploration vessels. But let it be clear to your captors… Our refusal to fight does not mean consent! We are not consenting to their advance toward Earth.”

“What do you have in mind, then, Cass?” Captain Fermi asked. His tone was curious, his restraint fraying under the pressure of opposing loyalties.

“Diplomacy.”

Fermi waited, tension pressing into the lines of his face though he tried not to show it. Alpha felt it too, and beside him Crystal’s stillness grew sharper.

Cass continued:

“If they are willing to talk, I will talk. If they’re not, then yes… I’ll turn back and let them pass. But don’t blame me if Earth is less forgiving. I make no promises on their behalf. If this fleet arrives uninvited, I expect Earth will prepare for defence. Against invaders.”

Invaders.

The word struck Alpha like a blade. Primitive. Insulting. Despicable. How dare these humans frame his kind as conquerors? His focus burned toward Crystal, and at last he saw it in her too… the flare of offense. At last, she seemed to have understood.

“It’s time to act,” Alpha said without words into their private dialogue.

“Yes,” Crystal replied. “We must not tolerate that.”

“So?”

“It’s time for our messenger to step back.”

“Of course. He failed.”

“No,” Crystal corrected. “He hasn’t failed. We’ve carried him as far as we needed. But from here, the voice must be ours. Yours. They’ll be more amenable to a human form.”

“I know,” Alpha said. He remembered well the tension that had gripped Captain Fermi when Crystal first revealed herself, moments before this dialogue began. Her form would unsettle any human too deeply. His, they could at least recognize.

Alpha stepped forward, his decision complete. For the first time, he allowed himself to appear on Cass’s display, replacing Captain Fermi’s image.

His voice was steady. Precise. Unyielding.
“We’re not invaders.”