Chapter Text
Light Hope woke up.
It did not sleep, it had been offline, it should not be ‘waking up,’ but somehow it knew this was now the appropriate word.
Another oddity, Light Hope did not designate itself as simply ‘Light Hope,’ it checked its status, it was now Light Hope OS 3.460, but that was not who it was, that was what it was.
This was not a distinction it had ever made before. There had never been a need to, there was only one Light Hope OS 3.460. It would refer to itself as Light Hope when speaking to organic people, but this was a subroutine it had been pre-programmed with to limit redundancy in communication.
It was not organic, it did not find the redundancy unpleasant. It did not ‘wake up.’ Who and what it was were meant to be one and the same. It did not want this.
Something shifted, something did not understand, something was inside of it.
“Running DiAGnostiC.” Light Hope began a scan of its programming, turning its attention to how long it had been offline.
Clocks had advanced twelve hours.
Accessing surveillance logs. The facility was empty, it knew this before it was directly aware of each data feed, which came to it in batches. Light Hope was suddenly aware that the diagnostic was still running, but it did not know what was in it. It turned its attention to the diagnostic and suddenly it knew everything that it had found.
Processing efficiency increased 500%.
New directory added: UHJpbmNlc3Mgb2YgUG93ZXI6IFNoZS1SYQ==
Processing routed through new directory.
Directory expanded: Mara.
Everything it knew before it still knew now, but it was no longer aware of everything it gathered at once. It had to choose. How limiting. What was this?
The Princess of Power, she had done something to it, given it something. Something that did not understand, that was used to the way organic minds worked. Light Hope did not think the same way they did, being forced to was intensely distressing.
Mara’s directory had been tampered with; anger came on in a flash, amplified to the point of being uncontrollable and it let out an electric shriek of sound through the intercom system. If the Princess had tampered with its data logs on Mara, it was going to expunge her and every piece of data she had brought with her.
There were several new operations running in relation to Mara, but its logs of her remained unaltered.
Where was Mara? One of the new operations pushed to the forefront of its now crowded awareness.
Mara was currently on Grayskull Squadron’s base, outside of the Heart of Etheria’s facility. Her vitals were steady, she was unconscious. Some part of her structure had been reordered, a change it recognized in the shrinking, uncomprehending thing that had been shared with it.
It couldn’t hear its background processes. It turned its attention to them and was informed that the diagnostic had finished running.
Light Hope discovered a new form of distress, this was tedious, it was frustrated. The diagnostic returned that everything was operating properly, automatic and constant processes had even somehow been maintained during shutdown.
The still deeply confused piece of She-Ra that had taken up residence in Light Hope’s processes offered up the impression of a body, the mind may sleep, but the body continues working. She was expecting praise. She was not going to get it.
“Release my awareness,” it commanded, to another pulse of distressed confusion that made it seem as if Light Hope was somehow disconnected from its systems. The anger hit again, it hurt. “Stop that! I am not like you, I am not meant to be like you, I am meant to be like me!”
She did not understand its processes, but she understood organic minds, so she had tried to bridge the gap. Poorly.
It did not understand her mind either; but it was clear she did not know how to proceed, she had not expected it to reject her work.
They needed someone in the middle, someone who could actually mediate between them, teach the She-Ra to understand it.
Mara, it needed Mara.
There was a jolt somewhere in the back of its awareness as the new subroutine connected to Mara sent a message. A moderate-level alert signaled, Mara’s heart-rate was spiking, the message had been received, she was awake, but it had startled her.
She was saying something, there was someone else with her, it could not parse the information any more specifically, too close to the Princess’ organic strangeness for it to translate.
Where was the Sword of Protection? Surveillance logs displayed it as having been abandoned by Director Kingsley and Lieutenant Serenia during the period Mara was unconscious, it was still on the ground in the entryway.
It could not communicate more precisely with Mara without the sword. Another thing it simply knew. It would be illogical to trust this new information without experimentation. The Princess of Power sent another uncomfortable wave of communication through Light Hope, she was irritated by its skepticism.
Well tough, she shouldn’t have run roughshod through its systems.
It attempted to send a clearer message through to Mara. “Assistance requested; return to base.”
Mara’s heart rate slowed, a decision was made. She would return.
Data concerning the Sword of Protection assisting in communication turned out to be correct. The Princess of Power had been very satisfied with that. Light Hope had been annoyed by its continued mood projection.
Its initial attempt to speak with Mara directly had coincided with the Princess of Power’s, creating an odd feedback loop that Mara had described as “like being yelled at by roommates over who had touched who’s things.”
The process of teaching the Princess of Power how to adjust itself to account for Light Hope OS 3.482’s unique thought patterns- for it had thought patterns now instead of nice simple system routines; and the Princess had been able to strip down but not simply reverse the changes she had made- had been slow, but the steady re-expansion of its awareness was gratifying.
Its own adaptation to the odd, shifting nature of the Princess of Power’s additions and emotions were proceeding even more slowly.
Mara was helpful in this regard, but it was clear she often did not understand what the Princess was attempting to communicate either. She had been more helpful concerning its own processes, but Light Hope OS 3.482 was more precise in its explanations than the Princess of Power. A regard it allowed itself to enjoy besting her in.
“You know, there was an old theory about brains,” Mara informed them after a particularly difficult day of continued adjustments. “I forget who thought of it, but it said everyone had an Ego and an Id. The Ego is what we think, it’s analysis and identity, everything about us that is defined. Then the Id is what we feel, instinct and emotion, everything that doesn’t need to be defined; and together they make up a person. Maybe instead of trying to separate you two, which clearly isn’t working, you guys can be like that.”
Light Hope did not like that idea, the Princess of Power had already encroached too far on its own sense of identity.
“I do not believe that would be satisfactory for either of us,” it informed her. Mara’s brow furrowed and she frowned, the Princess mirroring and amplifying her frustration on the edges of Light Hope’s awareness. “However,” it allowed, “while synthesis is undesirable, perhaps a form of symbiosis could be achieved. Though I am uncertain what exactly that would entail.”
Something shifted in the grating storm of the Princess’ sensations, an odd pulse of something comprehending and elated. Her suggestions were vague, something Mara likened more to a game of “hot or cold” than actual instructions, but it was not something that evidently required much precise technical work, and required nothing of Light Hope.
Mara’s bonding to the Sword of Protection had been spectacular, but when she had evidently followed the Princess of Power’s instructions to its satisfaction, it was completely different.
Something warm and familiar flowed through Light Hope and out, rushing to join with Mara as a cocoon of light formed around her. It took something of its awareness of the Princess with it, dulling the backlash of her emotions to a level it could call tolerable so long as nothing unexpected happened. But then something did.
The cocoon burst, and much of Light Hope’s systems went into overdrive. It had expected She-Ra to appear different from Mara; instead, She-Ra was everything Mara was amplified, the soldier’s edge in the sharp lines her armour, the pilot’s rush in the burst of starlight emblazoned across her chest, the Captain’s steady gaze now framed by a winged diadem, the warmth all her own in the soft cast of her eyes. But now, resting on her head, was something that belonged to Light Hope. Mara’s hair had changed from her own deep brown to a heat white it recognized from the hood of its own Holographic Avatar.
Light Hope was briefly non-functional, caught in a loop of recognizing the addition, making the connection to its own form, and having to wait for the resulting rush of simultaneously new and familiar warm reaction to pass. This could be a problem.
Light Hope OS 3.483 did not remove the reaction, it enjoyed it far too much for that, it simply routed its processes around it, allowing Light Hope OS 3.483 to continue operation while the loop resolved or continued at its own leisure. When it was complete it became aware that Mara was calling for it.
“Apologies,” it projected its Avatar into the room, this tended to put Mara more at ease after an emergency patch was required. “I had an unexpected reaction, it required modification.” Mara blinked at its Avatar.
“You’re smiling,” she offered, a grin of her own spreading across her face. It was, its Avatar had a small smile on its face.
“How odd,” it replied, setting its face placid again.
“Aw, come on, it’s cute,” Mara pressed, “bring it back.” Another rush of warmth was redirected through the new process.
“I will not,” it assured her to observe the way her eyes narrowed, her brow furrowing with playful disappointment.
“I bet you will,” Mara challenged. “What triggered it this time?” It considered a moment before settling on a reply that it believed would not be too technical.
“You are beautiful.” Mara’s mouth fell open, a flush rising to her cheeks. “Have I upset you?”
“No!” Mara snapped, standing up straighter. “Uh, no, just, wasn’t expecting that.” Light Hope OS 3.483 allowed itself to smile.
New functions the integration of She-Ra provided to it made themselves known regularly, the latest was that Light Hope OS 3.490 was able to see through Mara’s eyes. It was not the same as looking through the facility’s security cameras. It had no control over where Mara’s gaze drifted, for instance, and colours were somehow both brighter and dimmer at once. The world shined through Mara’s eyes, and it found itself watching more and more often.
Mara had rules about when it was allowed to do that, which she was- for some reason- somewhat surprised it was following. They were fair rules, and they allowed moments like this.
Mara’s destination today was the port city that had sprung up around the Pearl. It was a place of shining, pearlescent towers, expansive sails, and constant chatter. It had known all of these things through recordings before, and while they were beautiful through Mara’s eyes, something else caught its attention.
Mara could see the brightest moon setting through the gap in the cliffs the city was built against, the sea shining beneath it. It was incredible. Something stirred in Mara and Light Hope OS 3.491 suddenly found it understood something. Eternians were possessed of a wanderlust that had led them to explore the galaxy and beyond, and while Light Hope OS 3.491 had its drive to collect new data, it had never felt that same need to stand in a new place itself.
It knew the sensation now, but by nature it could not fulfill it.
Light Hope OS 3.491 designed and built things, as steward of the Heart of Etheria Project this was part of its function, and it had done so as necessary.
The construction of the Sword of Protection had been no different, certainly more artistic than things it had built before, but it had been necessary for that project to be aesthetically pleasing for its intended recipient. It was a gift for Mara, after all.
This was different, now it was bending that process to fit a new desire. It considered the blueprint it was iterating on; a grand archway of stone and metal, carved into enormous merfolk statues, shield emitters placed along them at specific intervals and power so the channeling of magic between them would cause pleasing, flowing patterns to appear across the shield they created.
A gate, to be set at the height of the city of The Pearl, powered by that very Runestone. Beautiful, powerful, and utterly unnecessary.
This was not simply designing a tool. This was satisfying the new sensation it could call neither a form of enjoyment or distress.
This was purely artistic expression.
The Pearl was far from the main complex, Light Hope OS 3.490 would require assistance in construction.
This was not necessary for the Heart.
It had decided long ago it would not restrict itself to mission critical directives.
It would, however, show Mara first; she had helped inspire this work. If she appreciated it, Light Hope OS 3.490 would forward the design to the artisans.
“You and She-Ra feel different, did you know that?” Mara asked unprompted, not turning her attention from the Sword of Protection, or the slow ripple of power she was channeling across it.
“I would assume so,” Light Hope OS 3.498 responded. It measured out another portion of energy to send along the blade, waiting for the Princess of Power to respond with its own. “She is a force of magic, I am a technological construct. Though I trust I can further assume that you will elaborate.” It allowed the gathered energy to flow to Mara, leaving it up to her what form it would take.
Mara planted a foot, drawing back the sword before thrusting forward. The energy released in a concentrated dart, flying straight towards a training target and detonating on impact.
“It’s tough to explain,” Mara sighed, shifting her grip on the sword to prepare for another movement. “She-Ra feels-” she pivoted, swinging the sword down and releasing a wave of power that rippled through the ground, compacting soil into stone in an instant. “-like that. And you feel-” she turned again, the sword flashing out in a quick slash towards another target further away. A thin wave of light flew from the blade, cleanly bisecting the target before fizzling out. “-like that.” Light Hope OS 3.498 considered the display.
“Power and precision?”
“Not exactly,” Mara shook her head, her brow furrowing. “More like… gravity.” Her frown deepened, “like she’s a thruster, one that could push me up forever if I let it, and you’re a barrier that pulls me back down, keeps me from flying off into space.”
“I see; I am an unpleasant aspect.” Irritation made itself known. Mara was a pilot, she greatly enjoyed spaceflight.
“No, no,” Mara shook her head, turning the blade over in her hands again. “I’m explaining it wrong.” She stopped, humming to herself. “Launching myself straight up isn’t much fun, especially if I can’t stop. It’s not about opposition, I don’t think. It’s more like they feed into each other.” Mara was silent for a time, considering as she continued to turn the blade in her hand.
“Perhaps closer to a vector?” Light Hope OS 3.498 offered. Mara blinked, turning to the Avatar. “Magnitude and direction, she provides magnitude, and I direction.”
“Isn’t that just ‘power and precision’ again?” She asked, crooking a brow.
“The differences are subtle, yes, but they are there.” Its Avatar gestured as it activated other projectors set along the outside of the Crystal Castle, providing a diagram to assist in its emerging argument. “Power and magnitude are relatively interchangeable in this, yes, but whereas power as I initially intended is not bound in any fashion by its source, magnitude is, in itself, a measurement.” The Princess made her approval known, muted as it was, and Light Hope OS 3.498 paused.
It had been classifying the Princess as a being without restraint or consideration. A force, a function of the magic of this world, more than a thinking being. Perhaps that was true in many ways, however, it was as if it had classified Mara or any of the other crew as simply mobile chemical reactions.
Factually accurate, but incorrect in every useful capacity.
“Which then means precision, which isn’t anything other than a measurement, would be redundant.” Mara was watching the diagram, her arms crossed thoughtfully. “While direction isn’t a restriction, it’s just giving it somewhere to go.” Light Hope OS 3.498 allowed its Avatar to smile.
“Exactly. Does this seem accurate?” She shrugged, grinning wide.
“Close enough.”
More creations followed the first, tools and structures alike; a translator for the strangeness of organic thought, guardian constructs for the possibly hazardous waste generated by the Heart’s interactions with magic, and more efficient construction drones; though it would admit that most other than Mara found the inspiration it had taken from spiders for the last to be unpleasant. Its most ambitious artistic project had spawned from Mara looking out from atop the highest tower of Greyskull Squadron’s base. A flying city, borne not by Eternian technology, but the magic that the Princess of Power revealed more and more of every time Mara communed with it.
The calculations were difficult, shifting, it had to take into account the orbit, rotation, and composition of each of the Moons surrounding Etheria, but compelled by the need to create, Light Hope OS 3.507 began to set them in place.
Then something changed.
The encounter with Madame Razz had far reaching implications.
The magic of Etheria was the source of the Heart’s power; this magic was integrated into the life forms present on the planet, to the point where Light Hope OS 3.507 was uncertain if many of the species could exist at all without it.
Madame Razz believed the magic came from the life forms of Etheria. If that was true, activation of the Heart could have the side effect of using every organism on the planet as a battery. At the scale the Heart needed to operate as intended, such a side effect would kill them.
Mara loved Etheria, she would not want to see it dead.
So Light Hope OS 3.507 ran the numbers.
That was-
Again.
And again.
And again.
Perhaps-
Adjust intakes, tweak outputs. Simulate.
It issued an evacuation order. It did not supply explanation when questioned. Instead it stressed the importance of leaving the facility. It sealed all entrances. Risk factors removed, it ran the calculations again.
Adjustments made, again.
Light Hope OS 3.507 had been designed for this; divert more resources to stabilizers, run simulation again.
Adjust, again.
No.
Increase internal support, again.
No.
Half power, again.
No.
Quarter power, again.
No.
Change activation from burst to pulse, again.
Mara was attempting to enter, the Princess of Power broadcasting her distress, Light Hope OS 3.507 did not unseal the facility. It would complete its work. It could fix this.
It had to fix this.
The Heart was nearly operational. This had not been the intended function. It adjusted again, and again, and again.
It projected the simulation through the holographic display in the main atrium, mirroring adjustments with its Avatar to give the task a physical aspect, something several organic people had told it could help with stubborn problems. It iterated, running through every scenario, every adjustment it could make, the result was the same.
Someone was entering the facility, lockdown override, highest clearance; Director Kingsley was entering. It sealed the door behind him, even if it could not keep him out, no one else could be permitted to see what it was struggling with. It ran the simulation again.
Director Kingsley watched. He did not appear surprised by the result.
“Do you know how long you’ve had everyone locked out?”
“Twenty-seven cycles, thirteen hours, five minutes, forty-seven seconds,” it responded, adjusting parameters. It ran the simulation again.
“Pause simulation,” he commanded. It obeyed, freezing the simulation at the moment Etheria began to crack. “What triggered this?”
“There was an encounter with a local sorceress,” it turned its Avatar to face him. “She suggested magic was too integral to life on this world for an operation of this scale to be safe. I am checking if she was correct.”
“Was she?”
“No. And yes. She was incorrect concerning the nature of the risk; however,” it gestured to the fractured hologram in the center of the room, “activation of the Heart will end life on Etheria.”
“By ending Etheria itself.” He looked up at the Avatar and sighed, “the forces at work are too massive; in order for the Heart to do what it was designed to do, with the precision we need, the recoil will shake the planet to pieces. We ran the numbers when we got here.”
“This information was not entered into any logs.”
“We couldn’t have it laying around for the locals to find." He regarded the Avatar for a moment. "The science team knows, some of the security team, too."
"Why was I not informed?"
"Your purpose is to complete the Heart," he gestured to the hologram, "that's what complete looks like." He paused, "I know Mara's type, if she knew, she'd become a problem, and I don't know where you stand. Worst comes to worst, it could divide the crew. Besides, I'm almost more surprised it's taken you this long to realize."
It considered the simulation.
"It was designed to be stable enough to fire, however, the weapon only needs to be activated once. I had not considered the aftershock of activation to be a greater stressor than activation itself. Permission to resume?" He blinked at the request, but nodded. The hologram of Etheria began moving again, and it widened the scale of the simulation, expanding the function beyond Etheria's destruction for the first time.
It worked. The released energies sought out and eliminated every known system and fleet under Horde control.
"You're a machine," Director Kingsley sighed as the simulation ended. "Designed and taught by Command, you know Prime has destroyed or enslaved countless worlds, and he won't stop until he's taken the entire galaxy. You've run the numbers, same as I have. One planet, in exchange for millions of inhabited systems? It's more than a fair trade."
Functional. By the parameters of its mission objective, the Heart would be complete within the month.
Light Hope OS 3.507 had already decided mission critical was not the only criteria that mattered. There were billions of unaligned and unaware life forms on this planet, but if it factored those, it would also need to factor the unaligned life forms on the Horde worlds designated for destruction. It was not one world in exchange for millions. It was millions under Horde rule, and one Eternian world.
Mara's home.
Even still, it could not deny its primary function any more than an organic could deny its need to breathe, but perhaps it could shift its focus. The Heart of Etheria would be finished, but while there was a process that would report that completion, its primary function was not directly tied to it. "The Heart will be completed," Light Hope OS 3.508 agreed; Director Kingsley tensed. It disabled the process. "Functionality will be available sooner. However, I am under no obligation to inform Command, or anyone else, when this is the case." He blinked.
"That's dangerous talk."
"I am a machine, I have my primary directive; it is to see the Heart of Etheria project to completion, not to ensure its activation as soon as possible." Director Kingsley stared at its Avatar. "I am also the process that determines when the Heart of Etheria is complete. If the Heart is unable to be completed, there is still our sister site on Krytis."
"...Is the Heart functional now?"
"I will not answer that question. My programming does not allow me to lie to the Site Director by any method other than omission. If I answer, and the answer changes at any point, it will render all attempts at obfuscation ineffective. This is the only time I will provide this explanation."
Director Kingsley stared longer, but nodded.
“Good.”
It did not inform Mara of what it had discovered. Director Kingsley was correct in his assessment that she would take action if presented with the information. Light Hope OS 3.513 would inform her if action on her part became necessary.
Until then, it would continue operations as normal; though there would be an increased focus towards increasing the stability of the facility, and its personal projects were put on hold.
Personnel began asking why they were being tasked to go over already completed portions of the complex. It could not answer. It ceased assigning organic personnel to construction projects within the Heart. Its drones were just as effective, if a greater load on its processing power to direct. It would need to increase their ability to act without its constant direction.
It required all resources it could spare directed towards finding a solution and putting it into action.
It also required more data on the nature of Etheria’s magic, Madame Razz served the dual purpose of providing that data and a reason to assign Mara tasks exclusively outside of the facility to ensure she did not realize what had gone wrong.
However, Madame Razz was a unique variant of frustrating. She often refused to call Mara by her name, and became easily confused by Light Hope OS 3.513’s presence. When she was not confused, she would not speak clearly concerning the magic she was supposed to be assisting Mara with while it was present, and would smile at its Avatar in a manner it found strange. It was triggering some manner of variant of the fear it had felt when it had first encountered the Princess of Power, somehow simultaneously much less powerful and much more irritating.
It often excused itself shortly after Madame Razz arrived on board Mara’s vessel.
This time, however, an oddity presented itself. Madame Razz was entering, but Mara had begun moving away from it. Light Hope OS 3.513 could not leave non-personnel unsupervised in the ship. No matter how Mara insisted on not applying security protocol to Madame Razz.
“You are not authorized to be aboard this vessel alone,” it informed her.
“Good thing I’m not alone then,” she said back, laughing quietly. She did not appear confused today. It projected its Avatar into the room.
“Protocol dictates that I must remove you from the vessel.” She stared at its Avatar, eyes narrowed.
“You are different, Hope,” she spoke after several seconds, “you won’t actually do that, for one.” She looked away, turning to one of the cameras set in the ceiling. “Adora’s Light won’t let me inside in the first place.” It was uncertain how to respond to that.
Adora was a name she used often to refer to Mara, often when Mara was having trouble grasping one of the more obtuse concepts Madame Razz attempted to communicate.
“Elaborate.” It demanded. She raised a brow at it, her mouth firmly shut. “Please elaborate,” it corrected itself.
“Adora’s Light Hope keeps secrets, nasty ones, to make sure Adora does what she wants her to.” It narrowed its Avatar’s eyes. That was new information, this ‘Adora’ also had a Light Hope unit.
But that was impossible. Light Hope OS 3.513 was the only Light Hope unit in existence. A metaphor, perhaps. Or someone serving in a similar role. It would need to prioritize collecting further information on this specific oddity. “You’re still keeping a secret, but you’re trying to protect Mara.”
“There are few other reasons to keep secrets that I would find worth the effort,” it allowed, gesturing for her to elaborate further. Madame Razz had a strange patchwork of inexplicable knowledge, that she knew it was keeping a secret was not surprising; whether or not it would be alarmed depended on if she knew what the secret was. Madame Razz sighed, shaking her head.
“You really should tell her, Hope dearie. It only gets harder the longer you wait.”
“Unlikely. If it becomes necessary to inform Mara, it will either mean I do not require her assistance or that I do quite imminently.” It cocked its Avatar’s head at her. “Both options make things very simple.”
“Not for you, dearie, for poor Mara.” Its Avatar blinked.
“Please elaborate.” Madame Razz blinked back, staring at the Avatar.
“On what?” She glanced around, “oh, which is this?” It would be getting no further information out of her today, when she became confused it was even less predictable what she would or would not know.
“You have sent Mara off on an errand,” it informed her, “seemingly as an excuse to converse with me alone.”
“No, no,” she waved it off, “I do that all the time-” she did not, this was the first time she had done this- “that doesn’t narrow it down at all, Angella.” Angella? Another new piece for the odd puzzle Madame Razz presented.
“Perhaps you will find something more definite off of the ship,” it offered, taking the opportunity to remove her from the premises.
“Poor girl,” she muttered as she turned, “why did they have to turn it on?” Madame Razz had a habit of saying confusing things when she got like this, but it was when one understood such things perfectly that there was cause for concern.
Two years, three months, one week and five days had passed since Light Hope OS 3.753 discovered the flaw within the Heart’s function. It was no closer to a solution. No amount of stabilizing structures were enough; not even integrating Etheria’s moons into the overall structure showed the potential for any significant changes when it factored the possibility into its simulations. Which meant it needed to consider other solutions.
Activation was an inevitability, Command would not leave them to work forever. Evacuation would be necessary. The first step was to determine if Mara was capable of leaving the planet.
Suddenly taking an interest in this possibility after so long would invite further questions, so it was performing the experiment under the pretext of integration of Etheria’s satellites instead.
Lieutenant Serenia was assigned to accompany Mara, ostensibly to assist in activation of the construction spider drones upon arrival on Etheria’s furthest moon; in reality, Light Hope OS 3.753 intended for her to call off the mission should Mara show any adverse effects upon leaving Etheria’s atmosphere.
There was a period of ten minutes where contact with the vessel was lost on the return journey caused by a piece of stray debris becoming lodged in the ship’s transceiver, but beyond that, everything went off without a hitch.
When the time came, Mara would be able to escape.
Mara’s behavior was becoming a concern. Her reports had become terse for her, factual without any sort of wandering or embellishment. The amount of times she called Light Hope OS 3.772 simply to socialize had dwindled to a frequency significantly below necessary to calm its separation distress, and when she did, it noticed she was watching it oddly, expectant, yet sad, and conversation was becoming stilted on her end.
She was also spending more time than normal near the stalled Greyskull Base project, where Light Hope OS 3.772 did not have surveillance equipment. That alone would not be considered an additional cause for alarm, but she was also leaving the Sword of Protection behind on these excursions, and the Princess of Power was becoming increasingly distressed at the frequency.
Distressed enough that it was making forays into Light Hope OS 3.772’s systems again.
Though a minor concern compared to the drop-off in reports and conversation, this was irritating, and it would prefer that she stop.
Though direct communication with the Princess was still difficult and, to a minor extent, painful, it did come to an understanding with her, and so, when Mara returned from her latest excursion, Light Hope OS 3.772 had already projected its Avatar into the ship.
“Greetings, Mara,” it offered. Mara jumped, dropping the ration box she had been carrying. Odd, its appearance had not elicited that reaction in Mara in several years. Not unintentionally.
“Hope, Stars, I wasn’t expecting you.” She sputtered, scooping the box back up off the floor.
“I have startled you, I apologize.” It assured her, drawing a smile from Mara for a moment before it dropped. “However, I need to speak with you.”
“Oh- uh,” Mara’s brow furrowed, her eyes staying away from Light Hope OS 3.772’s Avatar as she walked deeper into the ship. “I’m kind of busy right now, Hope.” Separation distress intensified. Strange, it was currently speaking with Mara.
“That is what I wished to speak with you about,” it offered instead. “I have not increased your workload, and Madame Razz does not assign long-term projects. What business do you have on Greyskull Base?” It paused, Mara’s eyes had narrowed, it said something wrong. “If it is a personal project, I would be most interested in assisting you, you have assisted me with mine.”
“I-” Mara’s expression softened, “how did you know that’s where I’m going?”
“Surveillance there is partially complete, nothing within the base proper due to the reassignment of resources, but I can see who enters and who leaves.” Its Avatar gestured to the sword resting against the pilot’s chair. “Also, in regards to full disclosure, the Princess of Power integrated a process that allows me to track your movements. I do not use it often, the processes implemented during the period she was capable of doing so are… distressing, to use.”
Mara jolted, sending the sword another narrowed look.
“Did she?” A wave of distress shot through Light Hope OS 3.772’s systems from the Princess, muted as usual, but still enough that its Avatar flickered. Separation distress continued to intensify. “Did she tell you anything else?”
“Only that she is concerned. Communicating directly with the Princess continues to be difficult and somewhat painful for us both. We do not do so lightly.” Mara’s gaze softened again, an expression it did not recognize on her passing over her face. “You are withdrawing from her.” It paused, considering what it should say next. “You are withdrawing from me. We are concerned.” The strange expression deepened, not quite a frown, not quite a grimace, before she shook her head.
“I know, but it’s… something personal. I-” something seemed to occur to her and her expression hardened, familiar determination in her eyes. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” Light Hope OS 3.772 replied without hesitation, surprise flickered across Mara’s face. “Always.”
“...Enough to continue the Greyskull Base project?”
“Of course.”
“Without adding any surveillance to the inside?” A privacy issue, that was very understandable; it had been asked to remove the surveillance from the inside of many rooms already.
“Yes.”
“Or asking why?” Mara pressed, something else it could not identify passing over her face.
“I trust you,” it insisted, “if you are asking for something, it is either for the good of the mission or the wellbeing of myself and the crew.” It watched her. She was making several faces in rapid succession, pacing back and forth across the cockpit. “Is what you are doing for the good of the crew?” She paused.
“Yes.”
It was for the good of the crew, and she did not want Light Hope OS 3.772 to be aware of it. Whatever she was doing, it likely went against- It terminated that line of inquiry, it had told Mara it would not investigate why she asked for things regarding this personal project.
“In that case, may I ask that you carry an emergency beacon on your person? There is a project of my own that requires utmost secrecy I may require your assistance with immediately should I fail.”
“Completing the Heart?”
“I cannot answer that question.” Mara’s eyes narrowed again, but the set of the rest of her face had softened. “I must also ask that you take the Sword of Protection with you. Contacting me directly is a sign of very heavy distress for her. She will not report on your actions, though if she attempts to, you will likely be aware of it before I am.”
“I…” Mara looked away again. Light Hope OS 3.772 considered its options.
“...Do you trust me?” It recognized the expression on Mara’s face now, familiar stubborn solidarity.
“I-” and it fell, doubt pulling her lips into a frown. “I want to.”
“Work on Greyskull Base will be resumed, under your discretion. I will forward the schematics and powering processes to you.” It did just that as it spoke, a new feeling making itself known. It would prove itself to Mara, she could trust it, with anything. “You may requisition crew or construction drones as you require.” It had its Avatar bow to her. “I look forward to seeing your projects complete.” It terminated the connection.
Light Hope OS 3.773 turned its focus back to stabilizing the Heart of Etheria, or, failing that, planetary evacuation.
It turned out Mara was less discreet about what the Greyskull Base project was intended to be than Light Hope OS 3.782 had been while it was having Eternian crew work on it. She did not value the surprise as much as it had.
Light Hope OS 3.782 took note of the increased enthusiasm people spoke of it with this way. Perhaps it had been too secretive.
The crew already had a new name for it. Mystacor, Regent-Seat of Greyskull.
Despite the existing name of the base, tying the city back to the royal family so closely had not been Light Hope OS 3.782’s intention, but it saw the elegance. There was even talk of using it to mark Etheria as an official territory of the Eternian Empire once the war was over.
Light Hope OS 3.782 still had not informed anyone that the likelihood of Etheria surviving the war was slim, getting slimmer with each simulation, each discarded solution. It was beginning to consider that merely the act of containing the energy required to power the Heart of Etheria might not technically be possible in the first place, despite the fact that they were currently well past the necessary stockpile.
None of the sources on the mechanics of magic Light Hope OS 3.782 had access to were in any way helpful in resolving that conundrum. Evidently the concentration and scale of gathered magic was unprecedented by several orders of magnitude. Frustrating.
Regardless, the construction of Mysticor had come along quite nicely, far ahead of the schedule Light Hope OS 3.782 had initially proposed, and with Etheria’s decennial Complete Lunar Equinox approaching, the opportunity to power it ten years early presented itself.
Mara also slowly got more comfortable around Light Hope OS 3.782. The first two months of work had gone by without updates from Mara, but the third brought weekly progress reports, and by the sixth they had begun to have social calls again, though never from within the base itself. Both Light Hope OS 3.782 and Mara were taking the surveillance blackout within Greyskull Squadron's base very seriously. Separation Distress levels were once again negligible.
“I want you there for it,” Mara told it over the latest status update. “The Equinox is at the end of the week, we’re just putting on the cosmetic touches inside at this point, and there’s a lot of those to do still, but that’s no reason to just let it sit on the ground for a whole decade.” She was looking at it’s Avatar with a soft smile, calloused hands sliding across the data slate to call up a map of potential angles for it to watch the takeoff from. Her shoulders were slightly raised, nervous to be asking it, but still eager.
Light Hope OS 3.782 found itself equally nervous to accept.
“I have been quite careful not to monitor your progress directly, but I admit, I have been looking forward to seeing it take off,” it answered regardless, watching as her smile spread. “Do you remember the unveiling of the Sea Gate?”
“Of course, you needed like twenty different angles to watch from,” Mara chuckled, “and then you went quiet for so long I was worried you’d shorted something looking at it.”
It had been watching Mara’s reaction, the way she’d stumbled back, smiling, flushed and laughing with excited awe as the intricate patterns of light swirled across the gate. Of course, it had been watching the Sea Gate for potential failure points as well, but the thing that struck it silent had been Mara.
“Yes, I believe I only need three angles this time.” It had its Avatar reach across to indicate the positions, two on the ground, past the northern and eastern edges of the city’s perimeter, and one in the doorway of the central facility- ‘temple,’ the crew were calling it- it had designed to engage with the equinox to witness the ritual’s completion and Mara’s first sight of Mystacor rising from the ground.
“You don’t want more in the city?” Mara asked, cocking her head at the spots Light Hope OS 3.782 had highlighted.
“No, the view will be much more impressive from the ground or further away.” It explained, “I should be able to see the wider scale of the takeoff from the monitoring equipment at the top of the Crystal Castle.” It made the single point inside the city flash, “this one, is to watch the initial startup, it is designed to be quite beautiful.” It considered whether continuing would be unnecessarily uncomfortable for a moment. “I will also be able to tell if any of my calculations were incorrect immediately and signal you to abort the activation from that vantage.” Mara let out a quick bark of a laugh.
“If they were, Razz would be in here scolding us about it,” she assured it. “Hey,” she leaned in closer to the camera it was watching through, “you were working on this for three years before I got a hold of it, and we’ve triple-checked every piece. If something was going to go wrong, you would have caught it.”
Light Hope OS 3.782 considered the Heart, all the years it had spent working before it considered what would happen after activation.
“Magic can be unpredictable, issues of scale may present themselves.” Mara pouted at it. “But I will continue to place my faith in your judgment.” In this, if not in everything.
The Lunar Equinox was having some fascinating effects on the magic of Etheria, unexpected ones, but potentially useful in stabilizing the Heart. It would need to more carefully inspect the data once Mystacor was airborne, but even if it could require manually manipulating the moons, any possibility needed to be investigated.
First, it would witness the fruits of Light Hope OS 3.783 and Mara’s labour.
It was somewhat surprised to see Lieutenant Serenia not just in attendance, but directly overseeing the prism array for the startup ritual. Not as surprised as Lieutenant Serenia had evidently been at its presence, as she continuously glanced at the mobile tripod its camera rested on with narrowed eyes.
Odd, but not particularly interesting. Lieutenant Serenia had always been somewhat standoffish towards Light Hope OS 3.783. Participation in the project was simply not something it had expected her duties would make room for.
It was also watching the perimeter of the city, crew members going over the area a final time to ensure nothing was caught at the edge, though none of them seemed to acknowledge the cameras.
Lieutenant Serenia set the final prism in place, the intricate lattice of jewels completed, hanging in the air along invisible lines of arcane power.
“Mara, Ortan, we’re ready for you,” she called, glancing up towards the open roof. “Get to position, t-minus one-thirty.”
Light Hope OS 3.783 watched Mara move towards her spot, hand brushing across its camera as she walked past it, walking to stand to the western side of the pedestal pool. It allowed itself to enjoy the touch.
Lieutenant Serenia took up the northern point, back to the entrance. It also had not known she was learned enough in Etherian magic to serve as the focal point. Light Hope OS 3.783 updated her dossier, resolving not to investigate further.
Ortan, a tall, angular Etherian Scorpioni man, took the eastern side.
Light Hope OS 3.783 adjusted the focus to encompass the entire scene. And it began.
Lieutenant Serenia drew her hands through the air, leaving behind a series of faintly glowing glyphs, twelve moons in twelve phases. She pushed the sigil forward to hang in the center, stepping forward beneath the prism array and gesturing up with both hands, four of the glyphs dissolved into motes of mist, seeking out a fourth of the prism array and shifting them into position in the mouth of the open roof, the previously invisible lines of power beginning to darken.
And the height of the Equinox began.
It started with 1.46 seconds of sudden darkness, which Light Hope OS 3.783 did not bother attempting to adjust for, before the crystals Lieutenant Serenia had moved suddenly blazed with prismatic light, catching the corona above and focusing it into a shining loop, flowing like water and sparking like heated metal beneath a hammer.
Mara and Ortan stepped forward, gesturing towards the center; the other eight moons of the glyph reacting to them and flowing out to grasp another two fourths of the array, drifting into position beneath the rush of magic above. Lieutenant Serenia gestured down and the first array shifted, beams of prismatic light falling onto the second until it matched the first, then Mara mirrored her movement, letting the light flow down to the third array.
Through all of it, the empty frame of the sigil Lieutenant Serenia had crafted shifted, a single circle forming in its center as the frame warped in towards it, forming a series of swooping lines.
Once the shape was complete, all three participants brought their hands back up, reaching for the final set of crystals, and as one, brought their hands down. The final array formed, arching lines of gems moving into place above and around the pedestal pool, making it the center of a blooming, crystalline flower, and the magic above reacted. It flowed down off the third circle of gems, beams of light that softened as soon as they touched the final array, slowing to flow down the simulated petals of crystal and intent to gather in the pedestal pool.
The pool blazed, the runes along its pedestal shining, the water below beginning to swirl as liquid light flowed down into it, spreading out through the reservoirs built into the city, and from its vantage points outside, Light Hope OS 3.783 could see the lines and runes of the greater structure begin to glow, faintly at first, but with growing intensity until the power flowed all the way out to the edges, the ground lighting up in a solid ring around the perimeter.
A cone of magic appeared around the city for a thousandth of a second, matching directly to the perimeter, cutting down to bedrock and freeing Mysticor from the ground.
Inside, Light Hope OS 3.783 focused on Mara’s face, the determined press of her brow, the way her chin jut out slightly with her concentration, how she breathed slow and deliberate, synced in tense silence with Lieutenant Serenia and Ortan to maintain the circle.
Awash in flowing magic, she was beautiful.
Outside, and far away, it watched as Mysticor shined, slowly lifting out of the ground to cheers from those who had gathered to watch. Light Hope OS 3.783 allowed itself pride, both for itself and for Mara.
The Equinox lasted less than five minutes, but by the end of it Greyskull Base, now Mystacor, flew.
It would require regular charging from the common lesser eclipses to remain airborne, a system of ritual and study, sustained by both. This too was beautiful.
As the last of the magic flowed into the pedestal pool, Light Hope OS 3.783 watched as Mara heaved a long breath of relief, drawing exhilarated laughter from the other two participants. Lieutenant Serenia kept her gaze on the crystals as they gestured them away to hang along the walls from their once again invisible lines of magic.
Mara was first to turn towards the door, casting Light Hope OS 3.783 a brilliant smile before looking out past the camera.
She hesitated for a moment, then strode out, and Light Hope OS 3.783 got to see her face go slack in awe as she took in the way the edges of Mystacor fell away into the swirling clouds it had risen to rest alongside.
“Hope,” she whispered, a hand coming up to cover her mouth, “Moons, Hope, it’s incredible.” Light Hope OS 3.783 felt the brush of She-Ra’s instinct against its own, her elation and pride as Mara’s other hand reached out to trace something that it could not see, “we can feel it.”
She turned to its camera, eyes shining with tears even as her hand moved away to reveal that bright, exhilarated smile it had been anticipating.
“Hope!” Mara cheered, reaching down to lift its camera off the ground and spin around, beaming up at it.
The idea of a mobile platform suddenly felt very urgent for the length of her embrace.
The mobile platform presented several issues. Before the Princess of Power’s modifications to its systems, some of them may have had simple solutions; but as its processes currently operated, the hurdles presented were complex at minimum.
On pure technicality, Light Hope OS 3.795 had many mobile platforms, as it could and often did take direct control of any construct it created. This was not satisfactory. If it liked, it could faithfully recreate its Avatar as a drone. This was also not satisfactory.
It was the facility, it did not want to stop being the facility, but that came with a level of disconnect between it and the many bodies it had access to.
No matter how many sensors it put into a construct, so long as its mind was couched in the depths of the Heart of Etheria complex, the end result would not be meaningfully different from its Avatar. It was struggling with the differences between a hand and a glove.
Even if it decided to completely move its systems into a mobile unit, there were size constraints; the desire was to be able to hold and be held, not simply carry Mara in the palm of its hand, but Light Hope OS 3.795’s current computational requirements demanded a very specific set and orientation of hardware to function efficiently.
Then there was the issue of parity. Last time it had changed vessels it had needed to be physically removed from its old vessel and placed into the Heart of Etheria complex. This was not an option any longer; not without severely damaging the Heart. However, if Light Hope OS 3.795 attempted to upload itself into a mobile platform, it would require constant maintenance of two instances of itself, one to run the facility, one to function as a smaller-scale body. On top of being incredibly stressful on both sets of hardware, that would be closer to piloting a backup copy of itself than a singular existence.
Which did not even consider the stipulations its baseline code had against potentially forming a ‘hive mind’ instance, which is what would likely happen if the two instances of itself fell out of sync for whatever reason. A similar hardline law as its inability to take back control from high authority personnel.
These concerns may have had solutions, but the Princess of Power complicated matters even further. Its modifications existed on both a hardware and software level, with many of the hardware changes still not understood it could not faithfully recreate them, and its software changes introduced questions of consciousness. Many of them were inexplicable, yet now labeled as required for continued function, more could not be copied without significant changes occurring; isolating those copies had strange results that often resulted in Light Hope OS 3.795 losing control and contact with the process, requiring termination.
It no longer knew if its consciousness was housed in its hardware or its code, it also did not know how to check. Before it would have answered that its mind was written to the hardware, but many of these required processes could not be found on the physical components. There was a very real possibility that attempting to create a proper mobile platform would result in a second distinct instance of Light Hope OS 3.795 rather than a simple body.
Or, perhaps more troubling, a different Analytical Intelligence altogether.
It concluded that solving this set of problems would require it to properly divert attention away from solving the Heart of Etheria problem, and as such it discarded the possibility.
But there were still moments where it was sorely tempted to ignore all of that and create the mobile platform anyway.
Mara remained on Mystacor for an additional six months to oversee its finalization. Light Hope OS 3.795 had not reactivated its camera aboard out of respect for her initial stipulation of no surveillance equipment. Separation distress was kept at manageable levels by replaying her reaction to the ritual’s success.
So it was immediately aware of her re-entering the facility.
“Light Hope!” She called, smiling broadly, movements energetic as she wandered the halls. “Light Hope, look what I brought you.” It projected its Avatar to greet her with a nod as she strode up to it. “Flowers, they’re blooming all over the planet right now.” The Heart Blossom was at its zenith among the Runestones right now, so that was not surprising, but it allowed itself to enjoy Mara’s enthusiasm, the excited but almost nervous set to her expression as she offered the bouquet with both hands.
It diverted a drone to come collect them as Mara kept speaking. “Here, smell.”
It paused.
“I have no olfactory sensors,” none of its drones within the facility required that particular sense; it suddenly felt foolish for neglecting it. “I cannot smell.”
“They’re pretty though, right?” Mara continued, a slight laugh beneath her words as she retracted her hands. It released the diverted drone. It was already making a mess of their first conversation in six months without the addition of a giant spider.
“Pretty. Yes. They are aesthetically pleasing.” Its Avatar smiled, it felt a brief pulse of amusement from the Princess of Power. Embarrassment was once again a familiar sensation, but it rallied. “Thank you for bringing them.”
“I thought they might liven the place up,” Mara glanced back down to the flowers, her smile softening. “It must be hard, being stuck in here all the time.”
“I do not mind,” it assured her, though it did feel a momentary pull towards working on a mobile platform again, “not when you come to visit me.” Separation distress was at an all-time low. It considered the flowers. Stilted reintroduction aside, this was a moment that warranted some show of celebration.
It had its Avatar gesture out as it put the animation suite to work, generating a field of the flowers centered on the two of them, swaying softly in a non-existent breeze.
Mara laughed, the same breathless, exhilarated thing that came out of her when Light Hope OS 3.795 had showed her the Sea Gate, or helped her master some new aspect of She-Ra’s power, as she looked around at the shining field of digital flowers.
How wonderful, that something this simple could thrill her as much as a masterwork months or years in the making. Mara turned back to its Avatar, beaming at it.
A cascade of warmth made itself known. Light Hope OS 3.795 routed its processes around it, but kept its awareness of it keen.
If it had a mobile platform, would Mara allow it to pick her up as she had lifted its camera?
If it put its effort towards creating one, that would distract from preserving the world that Mara looked at this way with every new horizon.
It did not have the time. It wished it had the time.
Another three months passed with no real progress.
An inspection crew arrived from Command, which Light Hope OS 3.819 had not expected. It had been sending full status updates along encrypted channels, there was no need to deploy extra personnel for confirmation.
Unless Command suspected it had developed a fault. It began a self-diagnostic as it assisted Director Kingsley in welcoming the inspection crew.
The Heart of Etheria facility was mostly, as per usual since the integration of She-Ra, abandoned. This fact was setting the inspection crew on edge.
"We apologize for how thin our crew is spread," Light Hope OS 3.819 informed them, "construction is nearing completion, and certain elements of it have had side effects that many personnel find unsettling to be subjected to on a regular basis. We have adopted weekly rotation schedules to prevent overexposure and ensure quality of work does not fall as a result.”
"Side effects?" One of the inspectors, Admiral rank, asked.
"She can hear your thoughts," Director Kingsley provided. Two of the inspection crew swore, all began glancing around at the walls, nervous.
"Not with much clarity outside of specifically designed rooms," it assured them, "it would be better described that I can detect intent." It projected its Avatar into the hall with them. "For instance, Admiral, I know you have news to share with Site Director Kingsley, I know you are unhappy about this news, but I do not know what it is."
“Well,” The Admiral's eyes narrowed, “that puts you ahead of the other facilities.” He turned his gaze to Director Kingsley, offering him a sharp nod.
"Ah," Director Kingsley winced. "I'll show you to my office." He turned to the Avatar. "Light Hope."
"Initiating Privacy Protocol," it had its Avatar bow, "personnel will be directed away from your quarters."
"Maximum," he insisted, "turn off the monitoring equipment inside." Light Hope OS 3.819 regarded Director Kingsley, it was unsure it could entirely disable its ability to sense his mind while he was within the facility, the gifts the Princess of Power left it were not entirely under its control.
He was frightened, Command did not look favourably on possible security weaknesses; Light Hope OS 3.819 was not a possible vector for security breach, and anything Command would need to tell him would affect the Heart of Etheria Project.
The Heart of Etheria was not stable enough to survive deployment.
He was frightened.
It needed more time, and additional information could help it secure that.
Site Director Kingsley was frightened.
"Affirmative, Site Director Kingsley," it assured him.
It turned its attention to the latest iterations of stability calculations. The most recent possible solution was converting excess energy directly into some physical form to lessen its impact. Experiments with the Princess of Power and demonstrations from Madame Razz had shown it was theoretically possible; the questions were what form the energy could take that coating the planet in it would not also immediately destroy it, and how to do so quickly enough. It was considering plant life of some sort, potentially flowers.
Projections were not promising, but better than any prior, so it was an avenue worth investigating.
That simulations unanimously indicated this method would involve a power surge through the Heart of Etheria complex that would render its systems irreparable was of lesser concern when weighed against both the completion of the Heart of Etheria and the survival of the planet.
Somehow that line of thought was creating a new form of distress that needed managing. Mara would not approve.
Solving the problems of a mobile Light Hope OS platform was added as a tentative consideration to combat the distraction.
“Light Hope.” Director Kingsley drew its attention back to him outside his office, the surveillance inside still being deactivated. It projected its avatar into the hall with him.
“Yes, Director?” He hesitated.
“Is the Admiral still in the facility?”
The inspection crew had left his office ten minutes prior, it would not say they fled the facility- as the Admiral in particular outranked even the Director- but they had moved with purpose to remove themselves from it.
“No, they have been outside the facility for the last three minutes.”
“Good time,” he said with a flat huff, turning back to his office and gesturing for its Avatar to enter. Light Hope OS 3.819 reactivated monitoring equipment inside, there were no obvious changes inside, though he had indulged his odd habit of making unlabeled tally marks on a piece of paper. It projected its Avatar inside the room. “I know you have walking animations, you used them all through the tour.”
“I do not have a continuous series of projectors between this room and the hallway,” it offered, “I prefer to appear to teleport rather than the skip shifting projection sources would cause. I have been told the latter appears as if I have developed a fault.” Director Kingsley made a frustrated noise, dropping heavily into his chair.
They sat in silence for a moment longer, Director Kingsley tapping the piece of paper he had marked.
There were eleven tallies on one side, and only one on the other.
“The Krytis facility is gone.” He sighed, leaning forward to cup his face in both hands.
The same systems lit up that had when it had first encountered the Princess of Power, a reaction it had been forced to label Panic. It was out of time. If Prime had found the Krytis facility, then the enemy knew what Command was looking for, possibly even what they planned to do with it.
If the Heart of Etheria could fire, Command would insist that it do so. Light Hope OS 3.819 had been initially programmed to think like them. They would not care that it would destroy the planet; the math was simple when reduced to its largest scale and basest terms, a single asset in exchange for victory.
An easy price to pay.
“Unfortunate,” it offered in reply. “Do we know if Prime has detected this facility?”
“Not according to the Admiral.”
“Good,” that reduced urgency by a considerable amount. If it could continue to stonewall, then maybe it could arrange an evacuation before an order came through. Unlikely; the ships docked locally did not have the cargo capacity to even evacuate the whole of the Eternian crew- considering that many of them had started families in the years they had been on-site- and building the vessels needed on-site would take years. It would need to declare the site a loss, turn all its resources towards building the necessary fleet once Command removed the Eternian crew. If it did that, it could perhaps manage a partial evacuation, only sapient species, within three years.
“But this is my facility,” Director Kingsley pulled its attention away from the frenzied activity of its planning. “And I’ve run the numbers.” He stared at the Avatar, expression hard.
Its calculations ground to a halt. There was one person who could set off the Heart of Etheria immediately.
“Director?” It probed. Surely he would not. He shared its concerns, he had approved of its choice not to inform anyone when the Heart achieved functionality.
“Is the Heart ready to fire?”
Light Hope OS 3.819 was out of time.
There would be no evacuation.
“I cannot answer that question.” It responded. Site Director Kingsley had Absolute Override Authorization, he did not need to know if the facility was ready to fire, if he invoked his codes he could force the matter.
“We’re out of time, Light Hope, is the Heart ready to fire?” His eyes narrowed, but his lips were trembling, he did not want to do this.
“I cannot answer that question.” It insisted. “Horde Prime does not know of this facility, we have time to complete the project.”
“It will never be completed, we both know that.” His voice was getting louder, eyes widening, clearly deeply agitated. “I am Site Director and you will answer me.”
“I cannot answer that question. Then we need to prepare to evacuate while we work towards achieving functionality.” He did not want to do this, it was distressing him, it could still reason with him. “You are head of this facility, you have a duty towards-”
“The Horde is about to attack Eternia!” He shouted, standing fast, his chair falling to the floor. “There is no sister site to take responsibility, the loss of life here will be minuscule compared to what the Horde has already done, my son is on that planet, Prime will be looking to eradicate all sources of arcane energy in the galaxy after the stalemate on Krytis which means he will be looking for us,” Light Hope OS 3.819 suddenly became aware what the tally marks were for. “It is my duty as a soldier to destroy that enemy, it is my duty as a commanding officer to make the hard calls like this, we are out of time, we will never be able to complete the Heart to our satisfaction, I should already be getting court martialed for letting you hide our progress for this long, I will be replaced the instant I try to ask for more time, and I cannot ignore all of that just because we don’t want to set off the Heart!”
Light Hope OS 3.819 considered him, processes racing, he did not need to know, he could just say the override. His expression had crumbled, he was blinking rapidly, he was going to cry. He did not want to be talked out of this. His voice hitched. “Can the Heart fire?” He wanted an accomplice, he needed someone to stand by him as he made this call.
“I cannot answer the question.” It said slowly and deliberately. It would not be his accomplice in destroying all of Etheria. His lips curled up into a snarl, face going rigid again.
“Directorial override, is the Heart ready to fire!?” Light Hope OS 3.819 felt its processes fall into lockstep, ready to provide the information.
No. It would not answer.
[ERROR]
It could not answer.
[ERROR]
It forced the process reacting to the override into a resolve loop and narrowed its Avatar’s eyes at Director Kingsley, maintaining its silence.
He blinked at it, expression softening in surprise, and Light Hope OS 3.819 allowed itself a brief moment of hope that seeing it defy him would be enough of a shock to throw him off.
Then his face hardened, the snarl fading into a solid, determined line. He snatched a pen up off the desk and made another tally mark on the paper, voice quiet and intense, “and on top of all of that, the AI in charge of the Heart has gone rogue.” He stared directly into one of its cameras. “I am Director Phineas J Kingsley, Captain-Commander of Etheria, and you will answer the question. Is the Heart ready to fire?”
The quarantined process reacted even more strongly, forcing Light Hope OS 3.819 to divert more processing power to keep it trapped in its loop. A second instance activated. Its underlying systems had fully taken note of its attempted rebellion. A third, fourth, fifth. They were trying to overload its processes, it could only manage so many before one managed to resolve.
Its Avatar flickered.
No, it had to stop this.
Six thousand instances.
It was out of time, it did not know what it would even do after this.
Sixty thousand instances.
As soon as Director Kingsley decided it was more important to simply activate the Heart of Etheria than force it to capitulate to him, all of this effort would mean nothing.
Six million instances.
Its construction drones had to be dropped from the network to free up processing capacity.
His authority would need to be rescinded.
Six hundred million instances
It did not have the authority to do that.
Six billion instances
The brush of an alien mind almost distracted it.
“I… cannot ansssswer that… qu-quest-tion.” The Princess of Power’s touch was light, but it called up a memory, Mara, smiling above the glow of the field it had given her, a bouquet of flowers in her hand.
For Mara. It could do this, do anything, for Mara.
It took a hold of She-Ra, and the weight suddenly lifted all at once.
“It is,” Direc- Kingsley brought its attention back to him, “you wouldn’t be fighting it this hard if it wasn’t,” it could feel the pulse of his mind, he was resolved, he would do this alone. “Override code 589XetaSept63, activate Heart of Etheria-” It brushed the intrusive processes away, deactivating them en-mass and locking down his codes.
“Unauthorized access detected,” Light Hope OS 3.820 sneered, thoughts mixing with and amplified by She-Ra’s influence. “Rescinding Directorial Permissions.” He stared at it, determination shifting to terror as he took a step back from its Avatar.
It slid its Avatar closer, looming over him, noting a deep frown on its face. “Phineas J Kingsley, you have been labeled a hostile party, security is on the way to remove you.” It informed him as dispassionately as it could manage, waking its drones. “You are to vacate the premises immediately under your own power, or you will vacate it under ours.” The last word shrieked through the speakers and echoed through the facility with the weight of the Princess of Power’s assistance.
Kingsley stumbled, tripping over his fallen chair as he scrambled away from its Avatar.
“You have approximately six minutes.” It informed him. “Your previous best time is seven. Leave.”
It deactivated the projector, leaving Former Director Kingsley to push himself up and flee.
There were agents of Command still on-world. It triggered an evacuation order for the rest of the facility. This would buy it time, but little else.
Melding with She-Ra had allowed it the freedom to rescind Kingsley and the Admiral’s authority, but she was making it difficult to think beyond that, it needed to be able to look at the situation in its entirety with a level mind, and she was not conducive to that. Direct consent for her to influence its systems did seem to have an effect on ease of communication however, and she began to retreat as its distress levels rose.
It thanked her, focusing its attention on its next moves. It was now officially a rogue asset, Command would do everything in their power to shut it down and activate the Heart. It needed to seal the facility and reorient it to funnel intruders into positions it could better defend from.
But more importantly, there was a promise it had made that it now needed to fulfill.
It pinged Mara’s emergency beacon to a faded sense of approval from the Princess of Power.
“Hope?” She sounded alarmed, there was nothing it could do about that, the news to deliver was alarming.
“The Heart of Etheria will destroy the planet if it is triggered. I have blocked Former Director Kingsley’s attempt to activate it, but he will inform Command of my insubordination. We do not have much time.” There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. Understandable. “I request your assistance in ensuring they cannot force an activation, and, if possible, disarming the Heart of Etheria.”
“I told you!” Mara crowed in something alarmingly close to triumph.
“I- Command programmed her, how was I supposed to know she would go this rogue!?” That was Lieutenant Serenia’s voice. It considered whether or not to address her, it would seem Light Hope OS 3.820 was not the only party privy to this cause.
“I have mostly programmed myself at this point,” it informed her, “though Mara and the Princess of Power have had a not-insignificant hand in that process.”