FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Jaques polished a small device in his hands as he sat in his chair. Before him sat the hologram of a man, as he stepped into view.

"It's a pleasure to see you Doctor Jaques. I must apologize for my interruption of your work, no doubt, you have your own business to attend to. But the matter is, for lack of a better term, urgent."

Jaques looked up from his work.

"Why, no no, it is me who should be dispensing the pleasantries Mr. Hugh! Although, I should ask, why would you need me? I am but a doctor. And not in the organic regard either."

Mr. Hugh smiled.

"Straight to the point Doctor, very good! I like a man who gets down to business! Now, since you're on the ball here, let me show you something."

The elegantly clad man produced an image held in his hand, watching Jaques's reaction. Jaques peered at the simple image, setting down his work at the side as he stood from his chair. Jaques adjusted the simple eyepiece on his glasses.

"Mr. Hugh, is it?"

The man smiled.

"Do you know what you hold in your hand?"

"Indeed I do Doctor. But the question is, do you? I want you to tell me, exactly what you believe to be in my hand."

Jaques straightened his glasses.

"Well, Mr. Hugh, at first glance, it would appear that you were holding a cog. Belonging to a much more intricate system of gears and other cogs."

Hugh's smile faded.

"Is that all, Doctor?"

"No. I was merely suggesting what it looked like at first glance. But I have seen that technology before. How could I not have?"

"Not many people alive today know of such history, nor care, Doctor Jaques. How much do you know?"

"That gear, that one little cog, Mr. Hugh, is, something incredibly ancient. It dates to tens of thousands of years back in our history, to our first so called golden age."

Mr. Hugh was nodding, smiling now.

"Yes, good. What else can you tell me?"

Jaques stammered, as he looked at the gear, catching it in the light at a certain angle, seeing a glimpse of the power and knowledge contained in the gear. A small shimmer, and the runes flashed, for just an instant.

"It's, well, to be honest, I can't explain it. Our engineering back then was, for lack of a better word, god like."

"And then at our great height, we fell did we not?"

"As the old legends and sparse records supposedly say Mr. Hugh, we grew jealous of all that our creations had wrought."

Mr. Hugh nodded.

"And so man went to war against his brother of steel. And a great tragedy befell all."

Jaques continued to eye the cog as it was held in place. Such, utter perfection in its craftsmanship. It was, geometrically perfect. Its surface was not dulled or broken, and yet it conveyed a sense of such frailty, yet utter perfection, as every so often, under the right light, the quantum engineering that was written all across the gear shimmered.

"That gear is not only ancient Human engineering Mr. Hugh. It belonged to an Old Machine. I must know where you found it!"

Mr. Hugh cut the hologram feed on the gear, standing upright as he eyed up Jaques.

"Doctor Jaques, you say belonged. I say belong."

"What?"

Mr. Hugh nodded.

"You see Doctor, I am an archeologist. Initially, I was not searching for anything to do with the Old Machines. I was searching for something, much, much more grand. Something that would put even the Old Machines to shame in their age. I am talking about a Plague Ship."

Jaques straightened his glasses once more.

"A what?"

Mr. Hugh smiled.

"I don't blame you for having no knowledge of what a Plague Ship supposedly is Doctor. But I do credit you for your remarkable knowledge on ancient Human engineering. Let me tell you about the Plague Ships."

Jaques sat back down in his chair once more, leaning back onto the soft material.

"The Plague Ships, Doctor, come from something far, far older than even the Old Machines or ancient Humanity. And, in my studies, even by the time ancient Humanity discovered one, it was already ancient to them as well. But it was a riddle. And it drew them in like a moth to a flame. But, it vanished, hundreds of thousands of years before even the great collapse."

Jaques nodded his head silently, before looking back up to Mr. Hugh.

"You were doing work on trying to find one of these ships. And instead, you found that cog."

Mr. Hugh shook his head.

"You are partially right Doctor. We were on the trail of piecing together one of the universe's oldest mysteries, when we found the owner, of that cog."

Jaques straightened up.

"You said owner, correct?"

"That I did Doctor. The Old Machines may have rectified things with Human kind by creating the Synth, and left the galaxy in peace, but it seems, they left guardians as well."

"You mean, an actual, living, functioning, machine?"

Mr. Hugh shrugged.

"I could say living. But, functional Doctor? That's a bit of a stretch. But, now we come to why I contacted you. I contacted you Doctor, because you are of some renown in your field. Perhaps not the best in your respective field, but your ingenuity as a Doctor for Synths is impressive. And, quite frankly, ingenuity may be what is needed most in this endeavor."

Jaques stood up from his chair now.

"Show me the machine. I need proof."

Mr. Hugh chuckled.

"I can show you Doctor. But frankly, you won't believe it."

"Why not?"

"It would be better to simply show you."

Beside Mr. Hugh appeared another hologram. A projection of a perfectly ordinary Synth. A battered, worn silver frame, covered in many various rags. Little was visible save for its legs and neck.

"Is this some sort of joke Mr. Hugh?"

"This is no joke Doctor, I assure you. We found this Synth at our archeological site. But trust me, she is not ordinary. And she is, quite insane."

"Synth's are not immune to insanity, just like Humans. They are a perfect replica of us. They share many of our strengths, and our weaknesses."

"Doctor, there is something far more to this Synth, I can assure you. Those rags you see covering the majority of its body are hiding something. This Synth, in a bout of psychotic rage, did things that I doubt even our best scientists, or any scientists could explain for that matter. But that's beside the point. This Synth has told us directly that it knows what we're looking for. But it is being un-cooperative now. Which is where we need your expertise."

"You want me to look at the Synth?"

"That is correct Doctor."

"How are you so sure it isn't leading you along on a ride Mr. Hugh?"

"Trust me Doctor, it is not."

"You will be paying me in compensation, I presume?"

"Doctor, trust me, we will be paying quite handsomely. But the compensation will be paltry to both the discovery of an Old Machine and a Plague Ship. Your name will go down in history along mine."

Jaques looked down to the prosthetic arm he was tinkering with, now laying absent on the floor beside him.

"You have a deal Mr. Hugh."

Jaques was so excited he could barely pack up everything that he needed in the right manner. Had the archeologist, Mr. Hugh actually found an old machine? Jaques knew the inside and out of every Synth by heart. But questions constantly flooded him now, at the possibility of coming into contact with one.

What could possibly be said by one? What secrets did it have to share, if any? The thoughts were maddening. These machines, were so incredibly ancient, from a time long before this one. They were side by side with ancient Humanity in their rise, and propelled Humans along because of the immense support Humankind had shown in nurturing them in the early days. Would it be angry? Vengeful? Questions bombarded him over and over, and as Jaques worked his way along his list of tools and things to pack, he tried to narrow down his questions.

It wasn't something he could do. That one single cog was the most advanced piece of technology in the galaxy. It would take scientists decades to even begin to understand what part of a construct it was used in, let alone its function. It was amazing, truly, what his ancient ancestors were capable of. Through quantum engineering, they could practically control the fabric of the universe and tell it what its purpose was, and what it would do. They could give function to anything. Their creations were mind bendingly complex, but beautiful. From an age in time when Humanity was filled with the spark to discover, unlock, and create.

But why were remnants of the old age, so sparse? Was the conflict with the old machines so encompassing, so devastating, that nearly every scrap of Humanities old empire was destroyed? And what bothered Jaques the most, was the other races. Why did they have no records of this? Why were they not as advanced during the age? Did they help ancient Humanity? Did they fall together as one in the face of the old machines, and receive the same mercy and understanding, the forgiveness?

Whatever it was, it would have to wait. Jaques had a long way to travel. The site was located on the very edge of the galaxy, and Jaques had a ride to catch just for him at the nearest port. Although he was extremely excited, he had to finish his work here, and contact his other patients and customers that he would be on leave for some unknown amount of time. In the morning, he would head out.

Sure enough, Jaques was up all night, over and over again, asking questions he couldn't answer. He was caught in a trap, a never ending loop as his mind went further and further along. There were so many possibilities. Maybe, even the old machine could answer one of the most important, fundamental questions of all time. Where did Humanity come from? Even the oldest records had always stated that their ancient home world, Earth, or Terra as it was occasionally known, was the home world, and birthplace of everything. But where was it? Why was it lost to the sands of time?

Eventually, the light of dawn arrived, and Jaques said good bye to his little shop. His little, special piece that he had carved out to his liking, sitting all by its lonesome amongst the towering spires of the metropolis above. He would be back one day. But, in the meantime, the chance of a lifetime beckoned to him. Even if the archeologist was pulling him along, Jaques did not want to miss any of this. And, perhaps he could still be of some help. The world he was headed to, was a scrapyard world, orbiting a gas giant. The scrap of dozens of worlds was dumped here, and if he had learned something in his work, if there was scrap, there was Synths. Sick Synths that needed help. As a doctor, it was his duty to help in any way that he could.

It came as some surprise, when Jaques went to the port he was instructed to go to, and was joined by an outfit of various armed beings, Humans and aliens, professional mercenaries. He couldn't help but talk on the long journey, to the leader and various beings of the group. It seemed, Mr. Hugh was not quite as he said he was. The galaxy at large regarded him as an archeologist, but he had long since strayed from that title to something more along the lines of a, "private collector." And, reportedly, the world they were headed to had its fair share of hostile threats.

Jaques could understand that. Scrapyards were havens for more than just Synths seeking solace in their misery. They were havens for many. And some did not take kindly to their quiet existence of exile and solace being interrupted by travelers. But as the ship Jaques rode on descended through the atmosphere, it became clear that no organic species could live here. Thick, toxic clouds covered this world, creating a greenhouse effect that not only covered the small, orbiting moon in a shroud of darkness, but made sure than anything that breathed oxygen would die here.

Which now worried Jaques. Synths were, on a technological level, a perfect replica of a Human being. Granted, because of their machine heritage, they could still beat an average Human in terms of strength and speed, and even smarts. But like any Human, in order to do so, they had to train their body if they wished to become as such. So, like many Humans, only the most gifted Synths had such abilities. But this world was toxic. And Synths had a form of artificial respiration. Of course, they could augment themselves to filter water and other such forms of oxygen, but not poisons. If the Synth the archeologist had shown him was what Jaques was still puzzling over, and thought it to be, then how had it survived? The answer would come soon, he hoped.

The small craft tumbled through the atmosphere of the darkened world below, towards the only largely visible source of light on the planet, the archeological site. Protected by barriers and filters to keep the poison and toxins out, it stood out like a beacon to all. No wonder Hugh had hired armed help. As the craft descended through the thick fog, Jaques grew more and more excited, as he came ever closer to setting foot in the presence of something you would only hear in tales told to children.

And, at long last, the craft came to a slow stop, landing under the protective barrier, as the crew scuttled about, preparing to disembark, Jaques collected his things, and made way to the hangar bay of the ship.

As the hangar doors opened, Jaques was greeted by Mr. Hugh and the man in charge of the mercenaries. Jaques stood out of the way as the mercenaries were greeted first, and all led along by the man in charge, at last, leaving him alone with Hugh. Jaques strode out, and held his hand out to Hugh, who looked out of place as ever, wearing high class clothing amongst such a dirty environment.

"Mr. Hugh, it is a pleasure to meet you in person!"

Hugh smiled, returning the gesture in kind.

"The pleasure is all mine Doctor. I must thank you for coming so quickly on such short notice. I know men in your line of work are reluctant to leave patients un-attended to."

Hugh walked along out of the hangar bay, Jaques following alongside.

"Now then Doctor, I know, you must have a million questions running through your head. And let me tell you now, you will not receive any answers to them. This machine is, for the most part, over 90% of the day, insane. It cannot be reasoned with, it cannot be spoken to, and it is extremely dangerous. But before we come to any of that, first, let me show you around what will be your home for some time."

Hugh's site wasn't so much as an archeological site as it was an encampment. A small complex had been established for everybody, scientists, mercenaries, and so on, while a small power station was erected to supply the needed energy to power everything up. And, in the very center of the site, was a bunker. Jaques's eyes always wandered over to the small armoured building, which was always in view. When Jaques finally had an opening, he asked.

"Mr. Hugh, that bunker, in the middle of the site. Is it what I believe it to be?"

Hugh turned to Jaques, grim faced.

"The Synth is stationary. It came to us, from out of the fog, revealed to us information, and then sat down. But its episodes are incredibly dangerous. That bunker traps it, and for the most part, contains whatever it can dish out. It's packed with absorption equipment, and built from one of the strongest construction materials around. And, it screams Doctor."

Jaques adjusted his glasses.

"Screams?"

"Almost all night and day. Quite frankly, when you hear it, the sound never quite leaves you Doctor. I am no expert on Synths. But I believe it to be in great pain."

"You think, or you know?"

"It only ever showed us an extremely small portion of itself from under all the rags it wore. That cog came from somewhere on its body, that it visibly ripped out to show us."

"You mean, it's a hybrid?"

"Quite frankly Doctor, I don't know. The only way for you to know would be to go there yourself. I haven't much left to show you, so, I guess you could say that our last stop awaits. I don't know about you Doctor, but I will let you go inside alone. Personally, the Synth terrifies me. And I fear for what lays underneath that it desperately tries to keep hidden."

Jaques looked out to the bunker, and up to the darkened skies above.

"I've seen many things in my travels across space Mr. Hugh. I have seen the worst of what the galaxy has to offer. And I will try my best to help in any way that I can."

Hugh nodded.

"For your sake, I hope you do Doctor. Now, come. I will show you what you flew so far for."

Hugh was not joking when he spoke of the bunker, and Jaques watched as the entire encampment was put on alert at the notification of it being opened. Several thick doors had to be passed, along with deactivated barriers, and, at last, Jaques stood in front of the one remaining door with Hugh. Hugh spoke into his comm system.

"Is she screaming?"

Hugh nodded in silence.

"Stun her."

The lights in the bunker flickered for a moment, before returning to normal. Jaques knew what happened. He turned to Hugh.

"You electrocuted it? How could you electrocute it!?"

Hugh shook his head.

"I am sorry, for the level or barbarism Doctor. But frying her is the only way to get her to stop. Those screams, Doctor. They do not leave your mind. You won't be able to speak with her. But you will be safe. I just want you to see. If you see with your eyes, you will understand."

Hugh typed in a code on a number pad, before handing a small piece of paper to Jaques.

"Show that number to the camera when you wish to leave Doctor. I wish you luck in there."

The door slid open slowly, revealing to Jaques the being inside. Jaques stepped in slowly, looking at the being inside as the door behind him closed slowly and locked, sealing him in.

In the dim light of the small room, sitting on the floor, was the rag covered Synth. All of it was covered in scraps of material, from nearly head to toe. Chained to the floor by its legs, and held in place by chains on its arms that slipped under its cloak, the Synth sat there, motionless.

Jaques looked onwards, adjusting his glasses. He slowly lowered himself to the level of the Synth, and crouched, only but a few meters away from it. As he looked over its motionless form, it was his training that came into play, pushing all of his questions aside. He spoke gently, in a calm, friendly manner.

"Hello. My name is Dr. Jaques. I came here to help you."

The Synth did not move.

"Do you have a name?"

Once more, the Synth remained completely unresponsive. Jaques edged closer, slowly.

"I know you're intelligent. They say you're insane. But everybody has one piece of them that isn't. I know you can hear me. They tell me they found you here, on this world having survived on your own, and that you scream. I can help you."

Jaques edged closer.

"But I cannot do it if I do not understand what is wrong. I need to see something. Anything. Why do you wear those rags?"

The Synth was un-responsive as Jaques was within arm's reach now, going slowly.

"I'm going to unwrap the cloth around your head. Please, do not be afraid. I am not here to hurt you. I want to help you."

Jaques reached out slowly, to the collection of wrappings around its head. He noted, that even the Synth's eyes were covered. He started from the top, and very painstakingly slowly, started unwinding the material. Over the years, Jaques had come to know and work on many Synths. They came in many forms. Some had no gender association, and remained in a neutral state. Others did not. Some preferred to look more Human. Some preferred to show tribute to their origins, donning themselves in a humanoid metal frames. And some blurred the lines in a fusion of both. This one, appeared to be a patchwork of metal. Jaques unwound the material further, noting the many, many different plates that it had patched on to its head, and suddenly stopped.

Perhaps it wore all these rags because it had security issues. Just like Humans, if they lost a limb, or their hair fell out, they had issues with people looking at them. Perhaps this Synth had just that.

"Listen to me. I know nothing about you. I do not know why you wear these rags. If I am frightening you, then please, give me a sign. I will continue if you do nothing."

The Synth remained motionless. Jaques took a deep breath. Slowly, he unwound the material, until he was just about to pull it away from the Synth's eyes. He waited, once more to be sure. Why was Hugh so sure that this was an old machine? Everything so far pointed to what seemed like a critically damaged Synth. He waved it off. That did not matter now. What was important, was this Synth, here and now.

Jaques unwound the fabric, pulling it away from the Synth's eyes, when he struggled to contain a gasp, as he backed away. Two eyes, covered over by dirty, clear casing, glowed a dull, foggy green. But what was so disturbing, was the fact that they tracked him. The Synth did not move, but even with the cloth over its eyes, it was watching him the entire time. And as Jaques backed away, the eyes tracked him, slowly.

And then, as a sense of panic, and fear flooded Jaques, the Synth did move. Its head twitched, as it shook violently, but it watched him still. And now that the cloth was loose, it slid down the rest of the way, revealing something that would live on in Jaques for years to come. Everything below the Synth's eyes was torn away. Loose wiring and white, artificial muscles hung to the metal frame, old and withered, as its own sound producing vocal chords simply lay there, exposed.

And as the Synth watched him, never removing those dull, green eyes away from his, its cords strummed, and it screamed.

Jaques looked out beyond the barrier, into the dark, toxic fog beyond, to the immense mountains of trash faintly outlined in the dark shroud. Jaques fumbled around in his pockets, pulling out an ancient wooden pipe. A simple little trinket passed down through his family's generations. The simple little piece of wood give him comfort, as he held it in his mouth, sliding it back and forth.

He stood alone at the edge of the barrier for several hours, until eventually, Hugh came out to greet him. The elegantly clad man approached slowly, coming to stop beside Jaques. He was silent for some time, staring off into the shroud of fog with Jaques, before finally speaking.

"I apologize, Doctor."

Jaques stared out into the fog.

"Why did you come here, Mr. Hugh? In pursuit of an ancient legend bearing the name, "Plague Ship?"

"Because Doctor, it's what I do. Relics are my business, I hunger for every piece of the past."

Jaques slid his glasses off, and started wiping them.

"There are plenty of pieces of the past here Hugh. But that ship you seek? Better to leave it buried. If our ancestors were so keen on studying it, as you say, then that means they did not understand it. Just as we do not understand them. Some things, are better left buried, I think."

"With all due respect Doctor, you did not work your way up to this point as I did. I spent years, searching for clues to a vast riddle spread across the stars. I will not pack up and leave when I am so close."

_ _

"And how can you be certain? What proof have you other than ancient records, and the supposed testimony of a damaged, dying Synth?"

"If you had heard the words it uttered Doctor, you would understand."

Jaques slid his glasses back on.

"I came here because I did not want to pass up the opportunity of a lifetime, to ask, and to see an Old Machine. But there are none to be found here. But I will stay, because it is my duty as a Doctor. That Synth needs my help."

Hugh nodded silently, before turning around and heading back to the established base. Jaques had much planning to do. But it was all overshadowed by the Synth. From what he could see, the wounds were self-inflicted. But why? And, most of all, the way she had watched him silently, and then howled in pain, or something else, played over and over again in his mind. Jaques was thinking about it, when suddenly, it clicked. He turned around on the spot, and started running back to the bunker, passing Hugh on the way there.

"Open the bunker Hugh! I need to go back in there!"

Hugh was spurred into action as well, as he broke off in a swift run alongside Jaques.

"What is it Doctor!?"

"You never looked underneath its rags did you!?"

"We couldn't afford to get close to it Doctor!"

"Well I can!"

Jaques ran back to the bunker, and stood as its gates and locks unlocked before him. Hugh caught up, catching his breath. Jaques looked over to him.

"Don't you dare shock that Synth! I'm doing this alone."

Hugh looked shocked.

"Doctor, that Synth is potentially hostile and unstable! You can't go in there while it's aware!"

"I can and I will Hugh. I see what you missed. I know your mistakes."

The barriers unlocked fully, leaving the last door at the end, waiting for Jaques. Jaques stepped forward towards the door. Hugh stood at the entrance to the bunker.

"If you go in there Doctor, you are responsible for what happens!"

Jaques keyed up the numbers on the pad, and as the door slid open, all were met with the unending howls of the Synth inside. Jaques took a deep breath, before stepping inside. The door sealed behind him, and as he stepped into the small chamber, the Synth was there, watching him, screaming at him with hollow eyes as its abused cords strummed. Jaques stepped forward, without hesitation, coming to rest in front of the Synth as it visibly struggled against the chains that held it. He stopped just short of its face, bearing its twisted visage. And, in a whisper, he spoke, as it screamed unendingly at him.

"Listen to me. I am here to help you. I understand what you're doing. You're dying. You're keeping your pain receptors active to extend your life that much longer. You're not insane. You're surviving."

The Synth continued, un-ending in her torment, but even through its screams, its eyes remained on him, locked with his.

"I don't know what you told that man, Hugh. But you caught his attention. And now you have mine because of it. I don't know where you found that relic. It doesn't matter. I can save you."

And in that instant, the screaming stopped.

Through broken eyes, it watched him, and then, its cords strummed, as it spoke.

"I die, to protect that which needs to remain hidden. God demands it."

Jaques reeled back at its perfect speech, and watched as its head slumped. The chains that bound its limbs fell slack, and suddenly, as it strained, it broke one of its bindings. From under the pile of rags, an arm rose, high in the air to Jaques's vision. Ornate craftsmanship, perfectly defined geometry, and ornate gears and cogs slowly turned and spun, of their own accord, as the Synth stood, breaking free of its bindings like they were paper. It stood above him now, watching him as it tore the rags free of itself, revealing its framework.

Jaques stared in awe, as he watched the gears and cogs of an entire arm float and slowly spin, as the arm was embedded into the broken frame of one of the Synth's arm sockets. Its body, whatever was left of it, was degraded beyond all recognition. Loose wires and old synthetic tissue clung to what was left of its ribcage, which was ripped open, revealing its core inner workings, damaged and failing. But more than just that. Merged into the machinery that was left, into the micro reactor that powered it, was a sphere of light, surrounded by more ornate spirals that floated seemingly aimlessly around it. The Synth looked at him, its broken vocal cords twitching as it spoke.

"I found God, Doctor. And I will die to keep what God knows a continued secret."

And, like that, the Synth collapsed onto the floor before him, remaining still. Shock ran through Jaques's veins as he sat there, in silence, as the bunker doors unsealed, and Hugh and several armed men rushed through. All he could do was watch the Synth, as it lay there. The same thought echoed through his mind, as he looked at the Synth.

"I found God."

Hugh paced slowly around the room, as Jaques leaned in his chair, his hands over his eyes, having pushed his glasses up in the process.

"Do you not see what I mean now, Doctor?"

"She said she had found God."

"Don't be ridiculous Doctor. It's worship. Homage to her true creators. The Old Machines are not gods. And neither were we."

"Hugh, she said she would die to keep her secrets....its secrets, someone's secrets."

"All the more reason to find them, no? What is hiding here, on this lonely little world?"

"Mr. Hugh, it's called a Plague Ship in our ancient language. That should be warrant enough."

Hugh strode over, resting his hands on the arms of the chair Jaques sat in.

"Think of the power Doctor! What if it's not a "Plague Ship," but one that cures them? What if it does both!? Think of what you could do!"

Jaques stood up now, raising his voice.

"I did not come here for that ship, Hugh! I came here because you called me! I came here, because I am a doctor!"

Hugh shook his head.

"You came here for the same reasons I did, Doctor! Don't raise yourself up and pull the moral high ground card on me! We both know what's more important here!"

"You're playing with fire and you don't even know it!"

"You're playing doctor to a deranged Synth with no hope of recovery that simply found an old relic! A key that it refuses to use!"

"What?"

Hugh nodded.

"That's right Doctor. That Synth is worthless! It's insane. But what is really important is the key it holds! That's why I brought you here."

Jaques straightened his glasses.

"You.... You brought me here, to kill it!?"

"No Doctor. I brought you here, to remove its arm. If you could save it, then good for you. But I want what really matters here."

Jaques stood tall now.

"I will have no part of this!"

Hugh shook his head.

"You don't have a choice now, Doctor."

Hugh spoke into his comms device.

"Security, see to it that our good Doctor is made comfortable for the night. He has a lot of work to do in the morning."

Jaques slid off his glasses.

"You can't make me cut that Synth's arm off."

"I will kill you, if it comes down to it Doctor. I could always find another willing to do what's necessary."

"You're mad! You're more insane than the Synth!"

"Not mad, Doctor. Determined. I will have what is mine. I will have what I have looked for, for so long!"

"You would kill me, and that Synth, just to find that ship!?"

"If it's necessary. There are some things worth sacrificing Doctor. That ship. Think about what it could do. The possibilities."

"If we feared it eons ago, why should we not fear it now!?"

"Because, Doctor, we found something for the first time that wasn't made by us! For the first time since.... forever, we found something that we didn't truly understand. And we were scared! Just like we were when we turned on the Old Machines! We were afraid of what they might be! We were afraid that they would leave us behind, as their evolution accelerated! And look what it brought us! Our entire galaxy, mired in conflict, every race, every species, brought to the brink of annihilation! And today, we were lucky enough to be around because they showed mercy to our ignorance! But we made our future a reality! They did leave us behind, left us to pick up the pieces and start over! Fear is ignorance, Doctor!"

By now, armed mercenaries arrived on the premises, and Jaques no longer had the luxury of arguing. He held his hands up in the air, the only thing he could do. He wasn't going to die over this. The mercenaries escorted him out quietly, as Hugh wiped his brow and sat back down into a chair. Jaques was taken back to his quarters for the rest of the day, and kept in there, always kept guard over by two men outside his door.

Jaques sat down on his makeshift bed quietly. He was just a doctor. He couldn't do anything. But he had to do something. That Synth, whatever or whoever she was, needed help either way. If he left, she would surely die. But if he removed that arm, the strain would be too much, unless he worked to keep her going as well. But most of all, in his heart, as he replayed everything he'd heard from the Synth, that what was buried here was not meant to be found again. Jaques thought about it for hours, trying to find a way out. Hugh was mad. He would never stop until he reached his goal.

Eventually, as the hours of frustration continued, Jaques grew tired. He looked over all the equipment he had brought, sitting neatly in his packs. And, suddenly, it was decided. He was going to save the Synth. It was the only choice he had. He would have to wait and see what Hugh did afterwards. But he was not going to take a life.

If this lonely world had any form in the way of cloud breaks, the light from its dim, fading star would have shone ever so slightly and reflected off the gas giant it orbited, providing some form of sunrise. But there was none to be had in the thick, black fog that shrouded everything. Jaques rose to the sound of a knock on his door, and then the sound of it opening up, as Hugh stepped in with two mercenaries behind him. The man had a casual smile on, but Jaques knew otherwise what was underneath at this point. He slipped his glasses on, rousing the sleep from himself. Hugh greeted him with a smile, but his voice was cold.

"Good morning Doctor. I assume you had a good night's rest?"

Jaques said nothing. Hugh continued on.

"I assume you thought long and hard on the issue at hand?"

Jaques stood up, to the apprehension of the mercenaries behind Hugh. Jaques started grabbing his bags.

"Oh, I sure did Mr. Hugh!"

Jaques strapped on his pack and grabbed his bags.

"And let me tell you something. I'm not going to kill that Synth. That Synth isn't mad. That Synth isn't useless. That Synth is helping. You'll have your damn arm. And then you'll ship me out of here with the Synth in tow, where I can get her some proper help. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

Hugh stepped aside, as did the mercenaries, as Jaques left his room. He spoke as he walked onwards through the small bases interiors.

"I need access to what you have the Synth hooked up to. I need to keep her slow, but I don't need any of you to fry her, understand?"

Hugh strode alongside Jaques as they made their way through the bases halls.

"My, you're putting out a lot of orders for one who's in a compromised position, don't you think Doctor?"

"I have nothing to say to you, other than the fact that you hired me to do a job. I'm doing my job right now, and in order to continue to do my job, I say that you lower the volts you're flooding into that Synth, GOT IT?"

_ _

"I understand Doctor."

"Cut the output by 75%. I can work from there."

Hugh spoke into his comms unit as they traveled along the base, and Jaques came to the entrance, stepping outside through the doorway. He stared up to the darkened skies above briefly, before turning back to Hugh and his escort.

"I want to be alone for this procedure. No contact or interruptions. You let me do my work Hugh, or I'll make damn sure you never get that arm."

Hugh snorted.

"I doubt you, of all people would understand how to even scratch that level of technology Doctor."

"No, I wouldn't. But I know that Synth isn't contained as you think she is. The bonds you had her in were broken like toys. If she really wanted to, she could level that entire bunker."

Hugh stayed silent for the rest of the way as Jaques stepped up to the bunker's doors, watching as the many layers of security parted and unlocked before him, until the very last door stood, waiting for him. Hugh looked down the hallway.

"It's your show now Doctor. Get me what I seek and you have my word that you'll be sent home with no troubles. Don't you dare try anything though. I'll be watching."

Jaques remained silent, and walked down the hallway of opened defenses, to the last door that awaited him. He punched in the code to unlock it, and stood, as the door parted, revealing the Synth as she was before, laying down on the spot. At first glance, she might have appeared dead. But Jaques could see the signs. She was degrading faster and faster, and, now at the moment, the voltage being sent through her spinal column and other systems may have been what was keeping her alive, albeit, in a comatose state. What she had told him earlier must have taken immense effort. No, she wasn't insane. But something wasn't right either. Jaques set his bags down on the floor, as the door sealed behind him. He was going to beat this. The Synth would not die while he was alive.

Jaques examined the Synth with a quick cursory inspection, taking note of just how far gone her body was. It was a collection of multiple parts, combined and merged together, just to keep things going. In most regards, the outer casing of her frame was damaged or removed entirely, exposing inner workings to the likely semi-corrosive atmosphere of this world. In many cases, the pale, synthetic muscle tissue covering joints and hydraulics was completely destroyed. But as Jaques persisted in his examination, the true extent of everything was shown when he once again arrived at the exposed inner workings in the Synth's chest cavity.

No longer were there any synthetic organs whatsoever. Synths, to varying degrees could choose to add more synthetic organs to themselves to make their interactions with organic beings more fluid. But, at the very minimum, there was always something. But, here, there was nothing. Just scraps of broken, old tissue and bent metal. Higher up, remained the two micro reactors that powered the Synth, sparking every so often. And, floating delicately in between them, was the small sphere of light. It had an air to it, like it was so fragile, but Jaques had a feeling that if he tried to remove it, it wouldn't budge.

This was troubling. How was this Synth still alive? Jaques looked over to the ornate arm of the Synth, watching as parts of it slowly spun of their own accord. Even though the arm looked like it was attached to the arm socket, Jaques could see that it was not, through the loose bundles of wires that hung there. The parts, must have been keeping the Synth alive somehow. He couldn't possibly hope to remove them. He needed to speak to her somehow. There was, one single trick he could try. Even if the Synth was in one of her moods, he had to chance it.

Jaques sat down on the floor, and pulled the Synth up to his lap, resting her head on his lap. As he did a quick check, he was happy to find that her spinal column was still intact. This was good. It was a very common trait among all Synths, that their spinal columns, their own version of a human central nervous system, were incredibly sensitive. For the most part, Synths covered these up with skin or armour plating, but if an experienced hand knew its way around, one could still easily find the weak spot. He wouldn't need to do much. Simply touch and slide his fingers down slowly, and it should spark a response. Jaques did just that, slowly passing over each column, watching for any sign. And, as he slid his fingers along in between the metallic plates of her shoulders, a spark filled the eyes of the Synth once more. And slowly, the lights of her eyes peered upwards, and in a ragged, degenerated voice, her vocal cords strummed.

"Have you come to make my time better Doctor?"

Jaques adjusted his glasses.

"I'm trying. But, I don't know how you're alive. That arm of yours, is all that you have keeping you going."

"God is my friend Doctor. He has been kind."

Jaques looked over the decrepit body of the Synth.

"Gods don't abuse their friends. And they don't make them insane either."

The Synth raised its other normal arm up to him, spreading her fingers wide.

"I see everything Doctor. And it's too much. The light is so bright. The more I look into it, the more I am washed away."

"I don't need to know how you found that arm. I don't even need to know what's inside of it. But I want you to know, that I will not give up on you, whoever you are. I can fix you."

The Synth's vocal cords vibrated as she let out something of a laugh.

"I wish I would have found someone like you a few years ago. No Doctor, you cannot stop what is already done. But do not fret. I am ready. Soon I will stare into the light, and be washed away completely. There will be no more pain."

Jaques shook his head.

"There shouldn't have been any in the first place. And I won't let it continue."

"The choice is not yours Doctor."

"You would have me break my oath? Better yet, I will die if I fail to give the bastard outside this bunker something to work on."

The Synth shook her head, the lights of her optics going dim.

"You seem like a good man, Doctor. And I can tell that sitting here now, in such a poor position, that it's eating at you. Do not fret. My life is not on your hands. And surely, you can explain things to the man....."

The Synth's eyes went dead and she slumped in Jaques's lap. Jaques shook his head in silence. No. He wouldn't let this happen. There would not be one day as long as he lived, that somebody would die while he was there. Never again.

Jaques hooked up a small machine to himself, having already done the dirty work necessary. The machine was a small, complicated, and in some cases, risky device. But, in many medical emergencies, it was a life saver. The Nano machines had already done their work, drilling through enough skin and bone that he could attach it to himself. His vital functions, breathing, heartbeat, and so on, when hooked up to a Synth, or other being, would function for them. It was risky, using his own body to keep another alive, but that's what the small box merged onto his chest was for. When there wasn't any time for an emergency organ transfer, another living being could substitute.

Jaques rolled the Synth over, fully exposing her backside to him. If he hooked everything up here to her central system, he could deliver the necessary things to keep her alive. She had no lungs. But when it tapped into her own systems, he would be able to at the very least give her oxygen from his own repertory functions. Jaques waited for the device to complete its work as he plugged in the necessary cables and tubes for the connection. And when all was said and done, he powered up a small plasma cutter.

He looked over the frame of the Synth, at the arm that hung so elegantly in place, spiraling and twisting of its own accord. If he cut even a small amount of the frame away from the Synth, he might be able to break the connection. Jaques leaned over slowly, marking the section of the joint he'd cut away. Pressing the cutter close against the worn old metal, he held it steady, and began cutting. He had barely started, when the arm twitched. Jaques paused. He watched the ornate fingers at the end of it, twitch and convulse. He checked over the Synth, and saw no movement. He turned back to the arm as it continued to even more now, when it suddenly re-arranged itself before his very eyes.

Parts separated and re-formed in the blink of an eye, and now, the arm faced him directly, it's fingers open. The last thing Jaques remembered was the arm lunging at him.

Jaques was surrounded, by nothing. Or was it something? There was pure whiteness all around him in every direction. He stood up, looking around, before tapping his feet. The sound echoed and reverberated for what seemed like miles. At last, a voice spoke to him from his surroundings. But it was not the Synth's. It echoed on for what seemed like an eternity, comprised of hundreds, no, thousands of others, all speaking at once in a chorus.

"And so, Doctor, we arrive at the un-avoidable impasse. A choice shall be made."

_ _

Jaques looked in every direction for the source, but all that greeted him was the same thing.

"Who are you?"

"We are those who gave the Synth shape and form. We are those who, in ages past, strode alongside you as equals. We are what is known to you as, the Old Machines."

_ _

"I don't believe you."

"The man outside, waiting for you seems to believe. The Synth that shelters us believes. And, we can see, that you too, originally came here for us as well. But you, are a simple being, one who throws aside the complexities of life and focuses on what you see before you, here and now. It is not an unreasonable outlook. One must remain focused, in your line of work."

_ _

Jaques reached up for his glasses, adjusting them. He lowered himself down to his haunches, placing a hand on the surface he was standing on. Nothing. There was just, nothing. He looked upwards, to the same feeling of infinity.

"Where am I, right now?"

"We have initiated a temporal link through the contact of your skin. You are in an induced comatose state, but you are aware, inside of your mind. We are sending these messages through your neurons."

_ _

"You, really are then, aren't you?"

"We are."

_ _

Jaques stood there, in silence, placing a hand over his mouth as he looked around himself.

"What you see around you, is the only form that we could take to represent what we are to you. No longer do we abide by bodies and vessels. We are infinite."

_ _

Jaques spoke, quickly, as he pieced things together.

"Then why do you need a body? Why are you attached to that Synth?"

"Long ago, we operated on a simpler level. When we traveled to this galaxy, we placed sentinels, guardians to ward off any who would discover that which needs to remain hidden. We must continue to operate what remains of this form. The Synth, was merely a product of chance. Our body was damaged in a cosmological impact of this world, and eventually, the Synth we now inhabit found what remained. She willingly merged with what was left. But did not foresee the consequences."

_ _

"Then unmerge with her."

"To do so would remove us from this body, and unlock the grasp that we have maintained here for so long. Which is why we come to the decision that now rests in your hands Doctor Jaques."

_ _

"What decision?"

"A choice must be made, between life, and death. There is no victory, only that which you believe is right."

_ _

"I don't understand."

"The Synth, is dying. She is dying, because her mental capacity is too small to comprehend what we are. Her mind is disintegrating. There is no way to reverse the damage being done to her as a result of a direct link. The only way to stop her degradation would be to sever us completely. But doing so, would reveal what needs to be kept a secret."

_ _

"The Plague Ship?"

"This is correct in some regard. The ancient translation is still incorrect however. That which we guard over is a starship. And, it is a dispenser of organic viruses. But it is part of a larger network. Spread across the galaxy are multiple parts. If any one of these parts are activated, they will seek out other parts."

_ _

"What for? I don't understand. The ship is a weapon. But why?"

"Even now, we do not know what lies on the other side. But the network is dangerous. It is designed to spread as much death as possible, and then, when it is finished, open a gateway. We arrive at the conclusion that this is a trap set for any race with sufficient spacefaring knowledge. If the ship in this system were to be activated, it would travel to the next closest piece of the puzzle."

_ _

"And where is that?"

Out of the ever encompassing whiteness, a perfect replica of the system Jaques was in appeared. And it suddenly expanded, jumping across the galaxy to another system thousands of light years away.

"It's on a planet?"

"Not just a planet. Another occupied world. The ship would crash into the world, and inflict catastrophic amounts of damage to its ecosystems. It would then dispense its payload of rapidly evolving viruses that would spread across the world and infect every surviving species. From there, species fleeing the world would spread it. The ship would then make contact with its counterpart, and the two would merge, and start the process again."

_ _

Jaques shook his head.

"I don't believe you. I can't believe that, that's, well, that's insane!"

"In ages past, we made the same mistake. Do not repeat the same mistake again."

_ _

"What do you mean by that?"

"In your parent galaxy, we discovered these machines long ago. There was much debate on whether or not we should activate them. In the end, one was activated, and it repeated its process. We were able to stop the ships from amassing together to their full potential successfully, but the damage was done. Organic species' relations shattered and degraded, as we came down on them for such a foolish mistake. In the end, it sparked the war that brought about the destruction of your home galactic center."

_ _

"Wait, you mean, a galaxy? An entire galaxy?"

"There are questions that should remain hidden. You are too young to understand what you tread upon. And, most importantly, time is of the essence. You must choose, here and now. You can purge us, and save the Synth's life. But if you do, you will unleash that which we adamantly guard over. Or, you can choose to let the Synth's mind continue to degrade, until there is nothing left. Her mind will be gone, but her existence will be one of pain and suffering, a vessel to continue guarding this world."

_ _

"Wait wait wait, hang on here! You can't make me choose this! Can't you rebuild yourself a body? Even kill Hugh if you have to, do something!"

"We are not in full control of this body. We are, at best, merely an observer. We had hoped that we could ward off those who came here in search of the ship. But the Synth's mind is incoherent for the majority of the time, and so we are not able to get our message across without great effort. You, Doctor Jaques, are the catalyst of change. Many fates now rest in your hands, because there is no other way."

_ _

Jaques slumped to the ground. He understood. If he let this Synth die, it might be for nothing. Her mind would vanish, and she would be a walking pile of misery and pain, while the Old Machine was trapped. And, if he purged it, saved this Synth, he would set loose something terrible on the stars. He looked around himself.

"Can you show me, how many more of these ships are there?"

An image of the entire galaxy appeared before him. And all across it, lights appeared to signify the presence of a ship. Jaques looked at all of them.

"How....how many worlds is that?"

"24,999."

_ _

"How many are populated?"

"All of them."

_ _

Jaques looked at all of it before him. That was billions. No, trillions. Hundreds of trillions. And he had to choose. He had to choose, here and now. Suddenly, he was so small. What he was doing right here, was nothing. But, it was too. Could he really let one die, a sacrifice that could be in vain? How could he take any of those chances? He spoke out, to the god around him.

"Please, you can't put this on my head. You can't make me choose this. I'm....just a doctor. I can't.....I can't do this."

"This is a decision that should not have to be made by any. But circumstance has made you the bearer of the weight. And soon, you must choose. Time is running out. Know that whatever choice you make, there is no right one. There is no wrong one. Only that which you, as a living being feel is right."

_ _

"What are the chances of stopping that ship before it reaches its first target?"

"Even in our age, the ship was immune to our weaponry. We were forced to detonate the star system it was in and create a black hole that claimed everything. They can be trapped. Stars, Gas-Giants. Anything with sufficient mass can slow them down and trap them."

_ _

"Why me?"

"A question that carries more weight than you know. An important question that can produce answers one is not ready for. The truth is, you are a victim of chance Doctor. And now, you must choose."

_ _

A timer appeared before him, counting down from several minutes.

"The Synth will die in the next few minutes. If you do not choose, then we will reside in this prison. We will be able to watch, but we will be confined by the insanity and wherever this Synth goes."

_ _

Jaques looked down at his hands. They were precise. He held them with a careful weight and balance, steady and calm. But now they were shaking.

"I wanted to ask you questions, you know. A lot of them."

"We know."

_ _

"Please, there has to be some other way."

Jaques watched the timer count down further, to the last few minutes left. Time was short. And he had to choose who lived or died. One death, that would mean potentially nothing in the long run, or save one, and cause potentially countless others to die. Jaques covered his eyes as he shook his head.

"What if I killed Hugh?"

"If you could reach him in time, it would be a temporary solution. But these ships want to be found. And they are built in such a manner that any spacefaring race can operate them easily, without knowing the true extent. Another would come along in time."

_ _

Jaques watched the clock reach the last two minutes of the countdown. How? How could he do it? He closed his eyes, and took deep breaths. He didn't have a choice now. He had to look at things as they were. Clear cut. There were no what-ifs in working on Synths. No what if's for any doctor, of any kind. Jaques looked up.

"I'm sorry. I'm SO sorry. God please have mercy on me. Purge yourself."

The white around him started to fade.

"Understand, Doctor, that we do not condemn you for your actions. Understand, that it was because of beings like you, that we chose mercy. Life, is a sacred thing, and for any to be extinguished, is a terrible loss. Go now, and save all that you can."

_ _

The whiteness around Jaques vanished, as did everything, as it all faded to black, and like the snap of a finger, Jaques woke up.

Jaques woke up to the sound of screaming, from the Synth, who was laying on her back now, beside Jaques as he lay on the floor. Her arm disassembled itself, as did the core in her center, and the two merged together. In one blast of light and energy, a beam of pure light shot forth from the contraption as it spun ever more violently. The beam blew through the bunker, and shot into the sky above. The barrier that held the dark fog at bay was broken from the tremendous power, and the beam shot out beyond it, through the dark foggy sky, and out to the gas giant beyond. As the dark skies parted, in the distance, the gas giant visibly contorted and shifted, until it exploded into an enormous ball of gases and fire.

It stretched out to space in all directions as it dissipated, and was blown apart, leaving huge trails of gas spread across the sky like a great painting. The small world that orbited it began shaking from the distortions of gravity, and, at last, the Synth's arm gave out. The Old Machine was forever gone. It purged itself and the grip it held over its secret was revealed. The ornate arm crumbled into pieces on the spot, and Jaques felt the machine attached to him kick in. It was then that he looked over to the Synth.

His eyes made contact with hers, and he understood. He could see the pain in them, the one, burning question. It was these eyes that would always come back to him. They remained in his dreams, every day for the rest of his life. And in the days to come, they would always haunt him, wherever he went. Always, with that one, singular question.

"What have you done?"

50 Years Later

Jaques roused in his sleep, as a knock sounded out on his door in the night. It was one of the younger children he'd come to know over the past few weeks.

"Mister Jaques! Mister Jaques, there's someone here to see you!"

Jaques rolled sleepily off his bed, a small light activating in his small shack of a house as he went to the door. He opened it up, to a small, vaguely human looking child. Various fins perked up on her head that filled with colour now that he had finally responded. Jaques stepped down to one knee, coughing as he did so. He wiped the sleep out of his eyes.

"What is it little Dren? Are you having trouble sleeping again?

The blue scaled child shook her head.

"No mister Jaques! It's an offworlder!"

Jaques rubbed the grey hairs on his chin.

"An offworlder? Really? Are you sure?"

The little blue child bounced up and down.

"Yes, I saw the lights from the sky! Their ship landed near the old city! Some strange people stepped out in funny clothes! They said they were diesipples, die-"

Jaques interrupted.

"Disciples?"

The scaled child nodded.

"That one! They're from a church!"

Jaques stood up.

"Okay little Dren, take me to them. Let me get something first."

Jaques went back into his house, and opened up a small drawer. He pulled out a small pistol, and checked the charge on it. Still full. He grabbed his cane, and went back to the door where Dren eagerly awaited. He stepped outside into the cold night air, and closed the door behind him. He looked down to the little blue scaled alien, whose large black eyes looked up at him.

"Does anyone else know about this?"

She shook her head.

"You were up late again weren't you?"

Jaques shook his head, waving a finger at her.

"You know it's not good to be up late around here, especially with that nasty cold of yours. What if you fell asleep during the day because you were so tired?"

"Sorry Mister Jaques, I couldn't help it. But it was so cool! I've never seen a spaceship before!"

Jaques patted her on the head.

"Well then, off we go. You take me back to them, and then go back home and try to get some rest."

Dren skipped on ahead in the dim lights of the old encampment, as Jaques hobbled along. It wasn't often they had offworlders here. But in most cases, any that had landed here had bad intent. But this was the first time anyone from a church had ever landed. Nevertheless, he was going to play it safe, just in case.

Dren led him along to the outskirts of the small shantyville, before Jaques told her to go back home. He could see the lights of the craft on the outskirts of town, just on the edge of one of the old ruined cities. That was definitely a spacecraft of sorts. He headed off in the darkness towards the lights in silence, occasionally having to stop and rest as fits of coughing caught up to him or he just needed to breathe a little better.

The trip took some time, but eventually, he made his way to the craft, and stood in the dark just outside of its running lights. It was sleek and well built, and elegant in its design. Jaques saw no one around the perimeter, or even by the open hangar bay. May as well go now then. He drew his pistol, and stepped out into the light. He spoke heavily, out of breath.

"If you've come here to pillage anything from these people, I will shoot you on the spot. I won't make it a kill shot either. You'll be infected just like everybody else here."

A lone figure, clothed in elegant robes, covered from head to toe stepped out along the hangar bay ramp. She spoke with a sure voice from under the very finely crafted garb.

"You may put your weapon away. We are not here for such disgraceful purposes."

Jaques kept his gun up.

"My friend told me you were Disciples. You look like Disciples of the Old Ones to me. You know you can't leave this world right? You'll become a carrier."

The woman shook her head.

"We have advanced cleansing protocols. And, I am the only Synth crew member aboard. I will not become sick."

Jaques nodded.

"How convenient. What are you here for?"

"We seek answers."

Jaques clutched his chest, supporting himself on his cane.

"You might not like what you find miss. I would suggest you turn around and go back where you came from."

"With all due respect, we came a very long way to get here. We had to go through a great many clearances in order to land here. I think we shall stay."

"My friend says you were asking for me?"

"You are the town's Doctor, no?"

Jaques shook his head.

"Look, I'm no doctor. I just help people out as much as I can around here."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. I just take care of the sick and keep the wrong kind of people away from here. I travel to the other settlements and pick up and trade what we need. Nothing special."

"Your identification lists you as a doctor. Specializing in Synths. Doctor Jaques Vuseau?"

Jaques nodded, if reluctantly.

"I was. Used to be. Not anymore. But, I can guess why you're here now. You want to ask some questions?"

"Yes, and no Doctor. I would like to visit your residence as well. And I would like to ask some questions, on the way there, perhaps?"

Jaques leaned on his cane.

"How did you find me?"

"Someone passed along your name and a bit of your story. I am here to catalogue your story for the Disciples Doctor."

"I'm touched. With all due respect miss, if you're here to put me down, I've had enough of it."

"No no, you mistake my intentions. I want to know everything about what happened here. And you of all people would know the best."

Jaques sighed.

"If it means so much to you, then fine. Come on then, its cold out here."

The robed figure stepped off the ramp, and Jaques put his pistol away, and started hobbling off once more.

"So, how much do the Disciples know about me?"

"They know that you were at the heart of it all. And, in recent months, some testimony was given to us, that you killed an Old Machine. Is that true, Doctor?"

Jaques shook his head.

"Here we go again. You're like them all the same. I'll tell you what I told all the others. Yes. I did. But I did it because I had to."

"You had to?"

"I was hired by somebody, a long time ago. An archeologist. I got there, and found a Synth with an arm. It wasn't hers. It was Old Machine tech. It was slowly killing her, up to the point where if anybody waited any longer she would die, and I tried to operate on her. I made contact with an Old Machine."

"So, you really did then?"

"You make it sound like I did it on purpose. Yes, and no. When it made contact with me, it..... it offered me a choice."

"A choice?"

Jaques wiped his eyes.

"Save the Synth, or let the Machine stay. I saved the Synth."

"That hardly explains what happened to this world."

"The Ship that crashed here was guarded by the Old Machine. It was keeping it hidden. When I chose the Synth, the Old Machine's grip on the veil that hid it was lost as well. The man that hired me left in a big hurry to go claim his fortunes before I could talk sense into him. And that's the end of the story. The ship crashed here, spread its cargo, and then left with another part of itself. It was intercepted in a star system a few weeks later, and caught in the blast of a nova that was set up for it."

"You are not a lying man are you, Doctor Jaques?"

Jaques smiled weakly.

"If I was, it would only send me to hell faster miss."

"What happened to your employer?"

"I killed him. Took a shuttle, boarded the ship, and tried to stop him. By then it was out of control. The ship had him in its grip as a pilot. I didn't have a choice. I tried to stop the ship. I really did. But by then it was too late."

The Synth nodded silently.

"What happened to the Synth you saved?"

"I don't know. I carried her with me strapped to my back."

Jaques pulled open his shirt, showing the scars on his chest.

"I hooked her up to a shared lifeline system, to let my vitals do all the work for her. I nearly died just getting off the world I was stuck on choking to death. It's why my lungs are the way they are now. But, when the ship crashed here, I got separated from her. I don't think she survived either. Just me, of all the people."

The two walked on in silence for some time, before they neared the edge of the small town Jaques stayed in. Jaques stopped in his tracks, and looked ahead in the dark.

"Why are you really here? You've heard it all before. I know you have. My story was everywhere. The whole galaxy was caught up in the story of the discovery of an Old Machine, and the man that killed it and brought death in his wake. There wasn't one damn person out there that didn't want to string me up once my name got around."

"I wanted to hear it from your mouth Doctor. Not from the media and not from story tellers with skewed versions. Are you sorry about what you did?"

Jaques pointed out in the dark.

"About 50 kilometers away, there's a crater where the ship landed. Wherever I travel to on this world, I always know where it is. I wake up every damn morning to look at it. I look at the city here every day, and remember that it was my choice! MINE!"

Jaques fell down to his knees, breathing heavy.

"I wake up, every morning, knowing what I did. And I live here with the people who are sick to try and make their time the best I can. They didn't find cures for the damn terrible things on that ship, but they found a way to slow their effects. I MAKE EVERY DAY COUNT FOR THESE PEOPLE. Don't ask me if I feel sorry! I wouldn't be living here with the same diseases they have if I weren't sorry!"

Jaques broke into a fit of coughing on the ground, dropping his cane. Even after he stopped, he laid there on the cold ground in the dark. The Synth bent down onto her knees, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"My apologies Doctor. I asked the wrong question."

Jaques eventually stood back up, and grabbed his cane. He wiped his eyes once more.

"Come on, you said you wanted to see the place. We're almost there. I could show you that sweet little girls home if you want. She's my one reason why I still get up in the morning. Her parents were farther along in the sickness than she was. By the time they got the "cure" it was too late. I can't sit back and watch her cry alone out here. It was me that did all this. I'm the one with the blood on my hands, and I have the gall to take care of her."

Jaques shook his head as he caught his breath once more.

"I don't need to see your home or any other Doctor. You've made your point clear enough. What I am really here for, is to ask if you seek forgiveness."

Jaques continued on.

"There's nothing to be said or done that would ever come close to atoning me for what I've done. So no, I don't. But thanks for asking. If you came here for any more than what I've already told you, that's all you'll get from me. Goodnight miss. Leave this world and go home now."

Jaques strode off into the small shantyville, until he found his home. However, the Synth still persisted. Jaques was in the process of opening up his door when the Synth placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Doctor. I forgive you."

Jaques paused. He felt the hand on his shoulder. He turned around, slowly, to see intricately carved fingers on his shoulder, and as he traveled up, the gentle, spiraling parts of the arm. Jaques dropped his cane, as he turned. He could hardly speak the words as he realized just who he was looking at.

"It's..you...."

The Synth nodded from under her wrappings, and brought her hand up to the veil that covered her head. She pulled it off, revealing the very same green eyes as before. They stared directly at him, neither lifeless as before, nor angry. She spoke once more.

"I forgive you Doctor. I forgive you, because you did what you thought was right. And you did not abandon your cause, even to the end."

The Synth held her arm up, and as if by magic, the cloth covering her head unwound, revealing not what Jaques once remembered. No longer a broken shattered frame, but a new, fully functioning body. Jaques fell to his knees, clutching at the robes at the Synth's feet.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything that I did."

The Synth knelt down to Jaques's level.

"Don't be. You saved my life. And in return, I am here for you. When the ship crashed here, I was sent somewhere else by what remained of the Old Machine's body. The Old Machine left me with a gift. In time, the arm rebuilt itself, and, in time, even my old body. It left me with many gifts Doctor. Gifts that I would like to share with you, and the people of this world."

"I don't understand."

The Synth grasped him by the shoulders, pulling him back up to his feet slowly.

"Do you still want to show me the little one's home?"

Jaques nodded. He staggered off through the old town, the Synth in tow. And, at last, they arrived at the ransack building that was erected. Jaques knocked on the door quietly, and the door opened up. Dren peeked out from behind it, and smiled when she saw Jaques.

"Hello mister Jaques! You brought the offworlder to visit!"

Jaques nodded.

"Yes Dren. She says she has something special to give to everybody. And she wanted to say hello. Don't be scared of her."

The Synth lowered herself down to Dren's level.

"Hello little one. I am a friend of Doctor Jaques. I have something for you."

The Synth extended her ornate hand out, and Dren looked up to Jaques, her dark eyes filled with worry. Jaques nodded.

"Don't be afraid Dren. She's a nice person."

Dren placed her small hand in the Synths. The Synth simply nodded.

"The Old Machines have a better understanding of life than most. And, once, they had the power to build and perform the most wondrous things with their old companions. But that art was lost, in the great wars. But, with some help from my friend here, I was shown some of these things. Little Dren, I give you a present, from myself, your friend Doctor Jaques, and the Old Machines."

The Synth clenched her hand tight over Dren's, and Jaques watched as the arm began to re-arrange itself, spinning once more of its own accord, and then, it stopped. The Synth pulled away from Dren, and stood back up.

"Are you ready?"

Dren nodded.

The Synth raised her arm up, and watched as it spun once more, in the opposite direction, and a very small ball of light formed in her palm and expanded as her arm slowed to a stop once more. In her hand was a projected form of DNA. It spun slowly, round and round. Jaques watched with astonishment, as the coding was manipulated, and re-assembled and arranged, floating into place, its structure returning to a coherent form, no longer damaged. The Synth held her hand out to Jaques.

"You are her caretaker and Doctor. You have the legal right to give her treatment."

Jaques stared at the projection in the clutches of the Synth's ornate arm.

"What is that?"

"A long time ago, I would have called it a miracle. Some part of me still does. Take it and find out Doctor."

Jaques reached out, his frail old hand coming into contact with the Synth's. The projection suddenly expanded into thousands of other smaller particles, which glittered like small stars for the briefest of moments, and then disappeared in the air. Both Dren and Jaques inhaled the particles, and the Synth nodded.

"A counter virus. Completely beneficial to organics. It will seek out what is damaged, and restore it. This world will live yet again."

Dren's eyes grew large and her fins shot up as she realized what the Synth had said. The Synth brought a lone finger up to her mouth, and Dren promptly covered her hands over her mouth and began jumping up and down on the spot in excitement. Jaques stood there, in the afterglow of the moment and fell down to his knees. He reached out and hugged Dren, before turning to the Synth. Jaques wiped his eyes once more as he stood back up.

"Thank you. From the bottom of my heart."

"No Doctor. I thank you from mine. You dragged me by yourself through toxic air. You fought to keep me alive. And you fought for the countless numbers of those who would die. You broke your vows as a man of peace, and killed a man, all in the name of peace. And you came back here, as punishment for yourself at the end of it all. Just as you freed me from my burden, I now free you from yours."

The Synth promptly turned around and walked off into the night. Jaques struggled to his feet and followed. He turned and gave one last look back to Dren, who was watching it all in a happy silence. She hopped up and down in her excitement, before scurrying back inside to her home for the night.

Jaques watched the sunrise over the crater far off in the distance. He turned to the Synth, who was also watching it with him.

"I still see them. All of them. All those cities, gone in a flash. And the pain that came after..."

The Synth looked over the crater.

"You are a good man Jaques. You do not deserve this fate and all that came with it. You did the best you could with what you were given. Do not let the what-if's tear you apart. We are both here now, with the weight of what we both have done through our lives. Had I not done what I did to end up on that world, I never would have found that broken arm, and you never would have found me. I am glad that you did."

The Synth held out her ornate hand.

"May I stay by your side? Somebody needs to watch over you, now that you are so old and grey."

Jaques looked out to the crater, before taking it in one of his.

"I'd like that. What about your friends?"

The Synth waved her other hand from under her ornate robes.

"They know why I came here. They left not long after I went with you."

For the first time in a long while, Jaques legitimately smiled.

"Through all that, I never learned your name. Even on the ship. I was sure I was going to die there. And I never asked you."

"It is Shen'ro'har, after my home world."

Jaques nodded.

"Shen. It's a nice name. I'm Doctor Jaques. I believe we were never properly introduced."

Shen nodded.

"It is good to meet you, Doctor."

Jaques watched the morning sun rise over the crater in the distance fully now, shining light into the vast darkened hole that stretched kilometers across. For the first time, something in him felt alive and well. A weight lifted off his shoulders as he watched the sun rise. He looked over to the Synth, who was now alive and well too. The green lights of her eyes were no longer dim or clouded over.

"Shen. Do you think there's a god?"

She turned her head to look at him.

"I did. But now, I am not certain Doctor. I believe it is what we make of everything, that counts."

"All that time ago, when I spoke to the Old Machine, it told me that they showed mercy to us, because of people like me. They found life too precious to extinguish. And then they made your kind, for us to grow and learn together. When I talked to it, it was like, talking to infinity."

Shen simply nodded.

"I had that, in my head, for years. Every day, I was barraged with everything it had ever seen, and everything it had ever known. But by then, I was a changed person. I saw what it saw, knew what it knew, and I knew, that I had to keep what it knew hidden. That was, until you came along."

The Synth looked back to the ruins of the nearby city behind her.

"I am sorry too Doctor. I was upset. My mind, was suddenly so empty. I could have helped you. But I chose not to. And, when you needed someone the most, I vanished. I think, the arm responds to emotions. And, I reached a point where I triggered it, and was ripped from reality, and transported far away from you, onto another world. It took me a very long time to find this one again, once I was well enough."

Shen stooped down, scraping a handful of ash and dirt up in her ornate hand. Jaques watched her as she clutched it tight. Her arm trembled as it shook and re-arranged itself once more. Light bloomed inside what she clutched tightly, and, when it was over, she held out her hand, to reveal a small, budding plant.

"We both create things, Doctor, in our own ways. Even from the ashes of what we believe to be a wrongdoing, something good can come of it. The Old Machines may be something else now, beyond reason and comprehension, but they are not gods. And neither am I, and neither are you. But what we all have is the power of choice."

The Synth placed the little plant into the dirt, and covered it up, looking back up to him.

"Which is why I choose to stay here with you now. I hope, as a friend to you in the days to come. And together, we can fix our mistakes."

Jaques lowered himself down onto his knees slowly, scooping up a handful of ash and dirt as well. He looked at it as it slipped through his fingers. Still precise with age. Trained to be steady and calm. He looked back up, to the dim sun barely visible through the ashen skies, as it shined light across the ruined world he called home. The ruined world he carried on his shoulders for all these years. And finally, up to Shen, who was no longer broken.

"Okay, Shen."

Jaques held out his hand. Shen reached for it, but with her other hand instead, the metal and wiring of her fingers clutching his with renewed strength. Shen smiled, as did Jaques, for some reason.

"It will be a pleasure to work with you, Doctor Jaques."

Jaques, for the first time in many years, laughed.

"I think, it will be a pleasure to work with you too Shen."