Exiled from her home and forced to flee to the furthest reaches of civilized space, Aviina has made a simple life for herself on Amalgam station. There she tries to make her living as a problem solver, working on the colossal galactic ‘Net’. However, she holds within herself a terrible secret. One that will put the denizens of Amalgam station into peril.

The gentle hiss of my suits air recycler working away filled the silence of space with a subtle humming that blended with the slow, small breathes I was taking. A peaceful calm settled as I let the comforting sounds I had become so used to wash over me like an ocean's tide. I held my eyes closed, clearing my mind of anything and everything. The sounds of my shallow breathing and the mechanisms of my suit the only things in existence. Even after the few short years I had lived in the outer reaches this one single moment in time remained the most beautiful. It allowed me to let go of all that I held onto, all my worries, fears, and thoughts just vanished. For only a moment it let me believe I was alone in the universe. That was until a feminine and obviously impatient voice broke through my reverie, shattering the peace I felt.

“If you’re going to just lay there listening to yourself breath I would be happy to just eject you into space, let you enjoy all the peace and quiet you could want. Lord knows I could use some peace and quiet. Otherwise, you have work to do. So, chop chop. This relay won’t fix itself you know.”

Sighing to myself, regretting the loss of my peace and quiet, I couldn’t hide the sarcasm colouring my voice, “Thank you for that Eris. I never realized you were such a cold-hearted bitch that you’d launch the only person around for a thousand light years into deep space, just for some quiet time.” But, she was right. I was here to do a job and the massive relay station I was sent to work on wouldn’t fix itself. A gentle nudge from my thrusters set me slowly spinning, bringing the behemoth structure made of steel and circuitry that dominated the space behind me, into focus.

Setup light years beyond even the closest of inhabited worlds, across virtually all borders of civilized space. The unmanned machine was part of an unbelievably enormous collection of data relay stations designed to passively scan for signals originating from deep space. Be it asteroids, rogue planets, quasar bursts, or more importantly anything alien, the relays caught it all. The whole system meant to act as a Distant Early Warning Line against any potential threat that might emerge from beyond charted space.

After the alien wars that wiped out the Kaladan Empire over a thousand years ago, the ‘Net’ continues to become of ever-increasing importance. Especially as the empires and nations that utilize the ‘Net’ expand into ever increasingly larger areas of unknown space. The ‘Net’ stands as the only galactically unified project that goes beyond borders, worlds, or even species. Sure, after a thousand years humanity, and the alien races allied with them, built more effective means of gathering information, but those typically remain closely guarded secrets. Controlled solely by the governments who own them. The ‘Net’, however, remains both an effective and important project. With new platforms constructed daily and added to the trillions already in existence. To the people of the galaxy the ‘Net’ stands as a symbol of unification. That even with so many differences the galaxy can stand united against all that would come at us from the unknown.

At least that was what they taught in schools.

But in reality, it was all a load of shit. The platforms had become completely outdated centuries ago. Kept working by the governments controlling them in order to placate ignorant masses. To convince them that the galaxy isn’t as fucked up as it truly is. Well, those are my thoughts on the subject at least. Though, my experiences could be colouring my opinion on the matter. Maybe the universe isn’t really as messed up as I thought, but I doubt it. The galaxy is one cold bitch.

Well anyways, thanks to the ignorant public clamoring for the ‘Net’ to be kept active, it means people are needed to maintain the system. Which is where I come in. I had managed to find a steady job as a problem solver. Doing technical work on platforms out along the borders of some small planetary kingdom I’ve never bothered learning the name. The kingdom has always been too small and too poor to matter to the galaxy at large. That suited me just fine. All that mattered to me was the job paid good money and kept me busy. More importantly, it was about as far away from the inner empires, where the real galactic powers sat, a person could get. Even if everything out in this waste of space was old, barely functioning, and the people poor as shit, it was heaven to me. My own personal Eden. But right now, heaven could quickly become hell if a certain annoyance chose to make it so. Which meant I had some serious work to do or I would be in the doghouse for a week.

The relay I was to work on had suffered a sever computer malfunction and stopped transmitting any data over a standard month ago. Most likely something like a micrometeor took out one of the hyper-dishes, causing an electrical overload in a subsystem of some sort. But until I got a good look at the internal diagnostics it could be practically anything. The platform was enormous for what was effectively a simple listening device, expanding to cover my entire field of view as I glided towards it.

Sitting at roughly a million-cubic tonne, the platform was a kilometre in overall length and nearly three hundred metres in both width and height. Its structure pockmarked by hundreds of antennae, with massive hyper dishes sticking out randomly along its length. The whole thing kind of looking like what a giant rectangular porcupine might resemble. The computer system responsible for keeping this behemoth of steel running lay hidden, located somewhere amongst the forest of steel.

“Bring up schematics for relay station B11-24-H7. Locate Main Computer Access.” Bright neon yellow lines began to appear as a holographic overlay of its schematics formed on the faceplate of my helmet, mapping itself onto the structure. A flashing red arrow appeared in front of me, directing me towards a strobing red dot resting a couple hundred metres away. With time and a lot of careful maneuvering, I eventually worked my way through the tangle of relay towers and hyper-dishes swathing the outside of the platform. Finally managing to make it to the access panel. Unscrewing a panel about the size of a dinner plate revealed a number of tiny connection ports that would allow me access to the central computer systems. A twitch of my wrist soundlessly ejected a connector roughly the size of a person’s thumb from my suit, that then magnetically connected to a port on the platform. The moment it connected a deluge of flowing data streams began to bloom on the faceplate of my suit, inundating me with an overwhelming tide of data.

“Woah shit!” Not even remotely prepared for the sensory overload from the sudden influx of information, I reflexively jerked back. Yanking the connector out and sending me spiraling off the platform and into space.

“Well that was fucking bullshit,” I complained as I corrected my spin and sent myself back towards the station. This time making sure to tether myself to one of the many hook lines located around the access panel. No more floating away for this intrepid spacewalker, “Eris, filter out the data to only the diagnostic systems, please. Also copy all the data from the system gathered since it went offline and send a hyperspace burst to the nearest receiver... Please,” It couldn’t hurt to be polite.

“Alright, data has been sent. As for filtering the data to only diagnostics, well alright. But its not because you said please. I just don’t want to have your brain fry and then have to pilot the ship home by myself.” I could only snort at the sarcastic tone oozing from the radio.

“Oh please, you just can’t admit you’d be lonely without me. Just like you can’t admit you’d never launch me into space. If you didn’t have me who else could you annoy?” The spluttering attempt at an indignant response that came back over the radio almost had me laughing. However, the fact that the number of data streams running across my faceplate suddenly decreased to a bearable amount helped me to refrain from laughing at her embarrassment, “Thank you Eris.”

A quietly muttered “Your welcome,” the only reply I received before the line went quiet once more.

Over the next few hours, I silently worked my way through the different streams of diagnostic data that had compiled over the course of the last couple months. It appeared that my earlier assumptions about what knocked out the transmitters was correct. Sometime within the last few months, a micrometeor storm had been detected passing through the region. The main systems responsible for keeping the platform sending out a signal had been struck and the whole system had effectively been killed. Platforms being hit by pretty much anything were a one-in-a-million occurrence. Although, with just how many relays existed, it occurred more often then one would expect.

“Dammit! Well, this isn’t good now is it? Eris, it looks like the main hyper-wave transmitter dish has been completely destroyed,” disintegrated is more like it, “and the secondary data compiler has also been severely damaged. Signal Amalgam Station that they’ll need to send a full repair ship out if they want to get this thing working again. Nothing we can do to fix this.”

Most I’d be able to do is program the system towards relaying any new data received through the light pulse transmitters that connected the platform to its sister relays. I could only shake my head at the thought of how pissed off the suits would be once they learned about just how significant the damage had been, and how expensive it would be to fix. At least the repair crew sent out would have a few decent months of work ahead of them.

I disconnected from the system, screwed the panel back into its place, and unhooked the tether keeping me tied to the relay. Then with a gentle shove, I was sent floating away from the platform. Allowing myself to gently drift as I slowly moved further and further away from the platform and into the inky depths of space. With a pleased groan, I let myself relax into my suit. My muscles seeming to let go of the tension that had built up over the last few weeks. My mouth quirked upwards, a small smile playing itself across my lips. I let myself just enjoyed the sensation of floating in space. The quiet hiss of my recycler and the sound of my gentle breathing once again my only companions.

I was grateful Eris allowed me to indulge myself like this. I told her as such later on and all I received was another quiet, “…Your welcome,” in return. For now, it was only me. A singular being alone in the vast emptiness of space. The ugly bulk of the platform had disappeared in the distance. All that remained were the stars of the Milky Way, gleaming with a brilliance that belied their fiery nature. Alas, all good things must come to an end and the small ship that had been silently cruising just out of sight, its running lights blackened so as not to interfere with my personal time, fired its thrusters and moved to retrieve me.