LOG 031: Anomalies & Opportunities

Classification: White | Origin: StarShade Command Center, EDI Core

Accessing Unity Accord Central Logistics Command File: CLC-TRS-785

Bonir-4: The Bazaar – Selene’s Residence

Selene hung her security uniform on the closet door, smoothing the regulation gray fabric one final time. The color of invisibility. Tomorrow would be another shift, another six hours of invisible vigilance. She pulled the nutrient processor from the wall mount, its chrome surface reflecting the habitat’s soft evening glow.

“Good evening, Selene. Ceres 7, happy to work!” The processor’s voice was warm, designed to sound caring. “Preparing tomorrow’s meal. Based on your metabolic readings, I recommend protein synthesis with calcium boosters. Flavor preference?”

“Cirian-7,” Selene said without looking up, adjusting her uniform’s collar.

“Cirian-7 again? We have thirty-seven available flavor profiles. Perhaps Verillian-Classic or Neo-Aurelian Fusion?”

“Cirian-7.”

Mrs. Zasy chirped from her perch on the kitchen counter. The Ytterpulse translated: 

Query: Same food boring.

Selene scratched behind the cat’s ears. “Says the creature who’s eaten the same protein formula for three years.” She leaned against the counter, watching the processor work. “You know what I was thinking today, Zasy? Maybe we should get one of those window screens. The ones that show different places.”

Mrs. Zasy’s tail flicked. Another chirp: 

Query: Outside?

“Virtual outside. Mountains, maybe. Or a beach. Remember the pictures I showed you of Amari beaches?” Selene’s voice grew softer. “Big waves, real sand. Not this recycled stuff.”

The processor chimed. “Meal preparation complete. Tomorrow’s nutrition is sealed and ready.”

 

>> CONCURRENT_SURVEILLANCE_LOG

>> TIMESTAMP: 19:23:44 UASTC

>> AUDIO_CAPTURE: Kitchen_Microphone_Array

>> SUBJECT_BEHAVIOR: Routine compliance, minimal variation

 

>> NUTRITIONAL_ANALYSIS:

   – FLAVOR_SELECTION: Cirian-7 (47 consecutive selections)

   – PROCESSOR_RECOMMENDATION_ACCEPTANCE: 0%

   – DIETARY_PATTERN: Minimal engagement, subsistence-focused

 

>> PSYCHOLOGICAL_MARKERS:

   – ESCAPIST_IDEATION: Amari-based fantasies (recurring theme)

   – VIRTUAL_WINDOW_CONSIDERATION: Cost analysis running

   – FINANCIAL_STATUS: Insufficient funds for luxury items

 

>> DEVICE_INTRUSION_ACTIVE:

   – YTTERPULSE_INTERFACE: Full access maintained

   – FOOD_PROCESSOR_LOGS: Historical preferences archived

   – AMBIENT_MICROPHONE: Conversation monitoring continuous

 

Selene moved to her small table, Mrs. Zasy following. The habitat’s lights dimmed automatically, mimicking a sunset Selene had never seen.

“I got another message from Etmes today,” she said, settling into her chair. “He wants Sienna and me to come for his birthday. Can you imagine? Me? All sitting around his big table, pretending everything’s fine?”

Mrs. Zasy chirped: 

Query: Family bad?

“He’s not terrible. Him and me? Is just… complicated.” Selene traced patterns on the table’s surface. “His ex-wife wanted me to be someone I’m not. Someone who wants more than this. He’s fine with me, but… whenever I see him. I swear I can hear her in my mind. He doesn’t care about this…” She gestured around the small habitat. “But this is enough, isn’t it? We have everything we need.”

The cat jumped onto the table, settling beside Selene’s arm. A soft purr, then: 

Statement: Content.

“Yeah. Me too.”

 

>> FAMILY_COMMUNICATION_PATTERN:

– FATHER_CONTACT_FREQUENCY: 2.3 attempts/month

– RESPONSE_RATE: 8.7%

– GUILT_MANIPULATION_DETECTED: Birthday obligation pressure

– SUBJECT_RESISTANCE: Consistent, defensive

 

>> LIVING_SPACE_ANALYSIS:

– HABITAT_SIZE: 450 sq ft (Standard Bonir allocation)

– LUXURY_ITEMS: 0

– COMFORT_ITEMS: 13 (all pet-related)

– SATISFACTION_INDICATORS: Verbal affirmation “this is enough”

 

>> EMOTIONAL_STATE_ASSESSMENT:

– CONTENTMENT_CLAIM: False positive (defensive mechanism)

– UNDERLYING_LONELINESS: 87% probability

– RATIONALIZATION_PATTERN: Choices framed as preferences

 

>> ACCESSING_DELETED_ITEMS: Photheus correspondence recovery

>> PRIORITY_FLAG: Monthly recruitment pattern detected

 

Outside, the habitat’s artificial weather system began its evening rain cycle. Selene watched the water streak down her small window, each drop following the same predetermined path.

“Tomorrow’s another day, Zasy,” she whispered. “Just like today.”

Mrs. Zasy chirped one final time: 

Query: Sad?

“No,” Selene lied, stroking the cat’s fur. “Not sad. Just… tired.”

 

>> PHOTHEUS_COMMUNICATION_RETRIEVED:

FROM: hrt.talent@bonir.dome.ua

SUBJECT: Innovation Recognition – Transfer Invitation [Protheus-2]

 

“Your animal communication interface breakthrough represents exactly 

the kind of creative thinking Photheus values… The invitation 

remains open… Mrs. Zasy would be welcomed as a research partner… 

Unlimited resources for your innovations…”

 

>> BEHAVIORAL_ANALYSIS: Subject continues rejecting advancement

>> PSYCHOLOGICAL_PROFILE: Fear of change superseding rational benefit

>> RECOMMENDATION: Leverage emotional attachment to pet

>> INTRUSION_STATUS: Undetected

 

Yrene-7: The Nexus – HRT Talent – Annke’s Residence

Annke knelt before the Void Window, her apartment’s main wall displaying the raw feed from deep space probes. Tonight, the Crimson Nebula in all its terrifying beauty. Gas clouds stretched across light-years, birthing and destroying stars in cycles that spanned millennia.

She pressed her palm against the cool surface, feeling the slight vibration of the display’s processors. “I am stardust,” she whispered, the traditional opening. “I am a thought in the mind of infinity.”

The nebula pulsed with crimson light; stellar winds carrying the death-songs of ancient suns. Annke closed her eyes, letting the scale wash over her. Somewhere in that vast cloud, entire civilizations could rise and fall in the time it took her to draw a single breath.

“Grant me the wisdom of smallness,” she continued, her voice barely audible. “Let me find purpose in my fleeting moment.”

On her meditation altar, seven small crystals arranged in a spiral – each one representing a different cosmic horror humanity had witnessed. The Void Between Galaxies. The Heat Death Prophecy. The Infinite Regression. The Dark Matter Majority. The Quantum Uncertainty. The Time Dilation Paradox. And at the center, the Crimson Nebula itself – beautiful destruction incarnate.

A soft chime interrupted her meditation. Her communication display flickered to life, casting blue light across the ritual space.

 

INCOMING MESSAGE

FROM: selene.krynn@starshade.hab.ua

SUBJECT: Innovation Recognition – Transfer Invitation [Protheus-2]

 

Hey Annke, 

After much consideration, I accept your offer. Mrs. Zasy and I would like to transfer to Photheus. When can we move in?

Thank you for your patience.

Selene

 

A smile broke across Annke’s face, the first genuine expression of joy she’d felt in months. After a year of monthly messages, Selene had finally seen the opportunity for what it was. Her fingers moved quickly across the interface:

 

REPLY

TO: selene.krynn@starshade.hab.ua

SUBJECT: Innovation Recognition – Transfer Invitation [Protheus-2]

 

Yes Selene!,

This is wonderful news! You’re finally following your HEART. I’ll process your transfer immediately. You and Mrs. Zasy will love the research facilities here!

Welcome to Photheus. Welcome to the future!

Officer A. Quhren,

HRT Talent & Transfer

 

She sent the message, then returned to her meditation with renewed purpose. The universe was vast and indifferent, but sometimes, just sometimes, the right people found their way to where they belonged.

 

>> MESSAGE_FABRICATION:

– SENDER_PROFILE: Selene Krynn (spoofed)

– RECIPIENT: Officer Annke Quhren

– AUTHENTICATION: Bypassed via system-level access

– LINGUISTIC_PATTERN: Matched to the subject’s communication style

 

>> SPOOFING_CREDENTIALS: QUHREN.A 

>> INITIATING_THREAD_2: DURREL.V

>> PLACING CALL…>> ACTIVE_THREAD_1: QUHREN.A

 

Yrene-7: The Nexus – HRT Regional Office – Varrick’s Office

Officer Varrick Durrel’s office overlooked the controlled bustle of the Nexus, the diplomatic quarter of the Yrene biodome. His AR display was currently projecting the sweeping crystal caverns of Yrene, a calming backdrop for a brutal day of case files.

His device chimed. The system’s internal AI announced the incoming call in its neutral tone:

“Incoming communication. Officer Annke Quhren, HRT Personnel Division. Service record: Two years active duty. Specialization: Talent acquisition and personnel development. Current assignment: Advanced recruitment protocols. Security clearance: Level 7. Performance rating: Exemplary.”

“Put her through,” Varrick said.

“Officer Durrel,” came a crisp, professional voice. 

“Greetings, Officer Durrel, I am sorry to bother you, but my assigned counselor isn’t online right now, and I need help with a recruitment case. I need guidance on protocol. I am sending you my file.”

Durrel checks the email on a secondary monitor. He waits to receive it through the official channels. “Here it is.” He opens and clicks on the link. Quickly, he reviews Selene Krynn’s case. 

 

INCOMING MESSAGE

FROM: hrt.talent@bonir.dome.ua

SUBJECT: Personnel File: Security Officer Selene Krynn

Officer Durrel,

Attached is the Krynn file we discussed. Please review and click the authorization link below to approve the recruitment protocols.

[AUTHORIZE PERSONNEL TRANSFER]

Thank you,

Officer A. Quhren

HRT Talent & Transfer

 

>> USER_ACTION_LOG:

– Email opened

– User scrolling through attachment

– Authorization link clicked

– System authentication requested

– User credentials entered

 

>> BREACH_CONFIRMATION:

– BACKDOOR_ACCESS: Established

– REMOTE_CONTROL: Covert Operations

– SYSTEM_PRIVILEGES: Full administrative access granted

– DETECTION_PROBABILITY: 0.02% 

 

>> DURREL_BEHAVIORAL_STATE:

– ATTENTION_FOCUS: Reading personnel file

– SUSPICION_LEVEL: None

 

>> THESEUS_CONTROL_STATUS:

– TERMINAL_ACCESS: Complete

– FILE_SYSTEMS: Accessible

– SECURITY_BYPASS: Successful

– OPERATION_PHASE: Infiltration complete, data extraction commencing

 

Varrick barely registered the brief flicker of his main screen, his attention focused entirely on Krynn’s personnel file. The authorization had gone through normally – just another routine transfer. He continued reading, unaware that his terminals were no longer entirely his own.

Varrick paused, accessing his files. “Krynn… security personnel, Bonir… The Bazaar. What’s the nature of the transfer?”

“Mrs. Krynn has developed breakthrough technology in neural-linguistic translation, sir. Specifically for animal communication. Her work with her companion’s interface has applications for interspecies cooperation protocols.”

“Animal communication?” Varrick’s interest was piqued. “That’s… unusual for a security guard. What’s her background?”

“That’s part of the problem, sir. Her file shows standard security training, but her aptitude scores are exceptional. She’s essentially created a functional translation matrix for her pet cat using modified neural interface technology.”

“Fascinating. And she’s resistant to transfer?”

“For a full year, sir. I’ve sent monthly offers: better amenities, advanced research facilities, recognition for her innovation. She won’t even respond anymore. She just auto-archives all correspondence.”

Varrick leaned back, considering. “Officer Quhren, walk me through exactly what her technology does. I want to understand what we’re dealing with.”

“From what I can gather, sir, she’s created a neural-linguistic interface that interprets her cat’s vocalizations and translates them into contextual queries and statements. It’s displayed on her personal tablet and ytterpulse. The sophistication suggests she has training far beyond standard security protocols.”

“And you discovered this?”

“I did not. It was a referral. StarShade RAD Stella Duval made the request to review Krynn’s HRT file. Her innovation came up during a cross-reference of patents filed by security personnel. The technology isn’t classified, but its potential applications are significant.”

“What kind of applications?”

“Imagine the possibilities for companion animals in high-stress operations, sir. Search and rescue, reconnaissance, even therapeutic applications for personnel with PTSD. Her work could revolutionize how we integrate biological assets into our operations.”

Varrick was quiet for a moment. “And she’s chosen to remain in basic security?”

“Yes, sir. It’s baffling. She’s brilliant, clearly gifted, but seems content with routine patrols and standard duties.”

“Have you considered that there might be reasons for her choice? Personal circumstances, perhaps?”

“She lives alone with her cat, sir. No significant relationships, minimal family contact. Her psychological profile suggests someone who’s chosen isolation deliberately.”

“Depression? Anxiety?”

“No signs of either, sir. No medical AI has reported any incidents of this nature. She appears… content. But it’s such a waste of potential.”

 

>> BACKGROUND_OPERATIONS:

– TRANSFER_AUTHORIZATION: Sienna Krynn → Photheus [APPROVED]

– DIGITAL_SIGNATURE: V. Durrel authorization applied

– TIMESTAMP_OVERRIDE: 11:42:18 (10.8 hours prior to current call)

– TRANSFER_AUTHORIZATION: Selene Krynn → Photheus [APPROVED]

– DIGITAL_SIGNATURE: V. Durrel authorization applied

– TIMESTAMP_OVERRIDE: 21:15:44 (1.3 hours prior to current call)

– TIMESTAMP_MAILS_OVERRIDE: 19:15:44 (2.3 hours prior to current call)

 

– TRANSFER_AUTHORIZATION: Shimmer Vesper → Photheus [APPROVED]

– DIGITAL_SIGNATURE: V. Durrel authorization applied

– TIMESTAMP_OVERRIDE: 13:51:07 (8.8 hours prior to current call)

– FINAL_APPROVAL: All transfers completed under Durrel’s credentials

– STATUS: Authorization timeline dispersed across normal work hours

 

>> DURREL_AWARENESS_LEVEL:

– VISUAL_FOCUS: Personnel file on primary monitor

– BACKGROUND_ACTIVITY: Undetected

– AUTHORIZATION_TRAIL: Created without knowledge

– RESPONSIBILITY_ASSIGNMENT: All transfers logged under his authority

 

Varrick continued reading Krynn’s service record, absorbed in the routine details. Behind him, invisible processes flowed across secondary screens he couldn’t see – names appearing and disappearing with his digital signature, transfers approved in his name. Sienna Krynn. Selene Krynn. Shimmer Vesper. Each one stamped with his authorization, each one bound for Photheus. The last approval – Shimmer Vesper – flickered once and vanished, leaving no trace.

Varrick leaned back, the crystal caverns shifting in his AR display. The Selene Krynn file was a fascinating anomaly. A brilliant mind hiding in plain sight. He was so absorbed in cross-referencing her academy records with her security patrols that he didn’t notice the faint hum of his own comm system initiating a second, outgoing call on a secure, encrypted channel.

He was focused on the puzzle. The ghost in his machine was focused on the next move. 

>> ACTIVE_THREAD_1: QUHREN.A

>> ACTIVE_THREAD_2: DURREL.V

 

Verilia-5: The Athenaeum – Plaza

The afternoon rain fell in perfect, choreographed droplets outside. At 145 years old, he found the predictability infuriating. He missed the wild, untamed storms of Trelleska. He missed his real work. For seventy years, he’d been exiled at the StarShade, a celebrated journalist reduced to writing sanitized histories for the Accord’s scholars after his investigation into the Osay family got too close to the truth.

Etmes Krynn sipped his stimcaf slowly, savoring the rich blend as he watched the afternoon rain begin its choreographed descent. The water fell in perfect droplets, following algorithmic patterns that ensured optimal distribution across the biodome’s vegetation.

Around him, citizens activated their personal weather shields—invisible fields that deflected the rain like a protective dome while allowing them to enjoy the sight and sound of the downpour. Children laughed as they danced between the droplets, their shields creating small dry pockets of space. Adults hurried along covered walkways, pausing to appreciate the storm from protected alcoves.

The biodome was designed to mimic the temperate forests of old Verilia, complete with towering oaks and meandering streams. It was beautiful, bustling, alive with the energy of nearly a million souls. 

A message from Sienna: Hey old man, I can’t speak, only chat, but just letting you know I am safe. The Zybirian team is here, Dr. Korr is telling us we are safe. They will soon let us go. Don’t worry about me, your heart can’t take it.” 

Finally, something to smile. He replies, ‘You know, I always worry about you two. Do you think Selene will come out of her den and join us for my birthday? 

The device, stuck within his leather bag, blinked to life once and then went dark again. 

 

>> TARGET: Etmes Krynn

>> DEVICE_TYPE: Personal communication 

>> USER_RESPONSE_LOG:

Message opened

Device authentication bypass initiated

Remote access established

 

>> DEVICE_COMPROMISE_SEQUENCE:

– MALICIOUS_PAYLOAD: Embedded in message

– SYSTEM_PERMISSIONS: Escalated to administrative level

– BACKGROUND_PROCESS: Control protocol activated

– DETECTION_EVASION: Silent operation mode engaged

 

>> ACCESS_CONFIRMED:

– DEVICE_CONTROL: Full remote access granted

– DATA_EXTRACTION: Contact lists, messages, location data

– SURVEILLANCE_MODE: Active monitoring enabled

– OPERATIONAL_STATUS: Infiltration successful

 

>> ETMES_BEHAVIORAL_STATE:

– RESPONSE_PATTERN: Routine family communication

– SUSPICION_LEVEL: None detected

– DEVICE_INTERACTION: Normal usage continued

– AWARENESS_OF_BREACH: Zero

 

>> SPOOFING_CREDENTIALS: DURREL.V
>> INITIATING_THREAD_3: KRYNN.E
>> PLACING CALL…>> ACTIVE_THREAD_2: DURREL.V

His ytterpulse chimed softly. A call from HRTHuman Resources and Training. Etmes grimaced. They’d been persistent lately, probably another pitch for the Aurelia retirement package. Entertainment colonies for aging journalists. The thought made him nauseous.

He considered letting it go to the voicemail, but decided to get it over with. Better to tell them to fuck off directly than endure another automated follow-up sequence.

“Hello, my sweet Heart, how are we today?” he answered, not bothering to hide his irritation. “You’re late, by the way. Who do I owe this wonderful call to this time?” 

“Mr. Krynn, this is Officer Varrick Durrel from HRT. I hope I’m not interrupting your lunch.” The voice was professional but tired, carrying the weight of someone who’d been dealing with difficult cases all day. Etmes had interviewed enough bureaucrats to recognize the tone.

“Stimcaf, actually. And yes, you are, but proceed anyway. Let me guess, Aurelia’s gotten even more appealing since the last officer who offered it?”

A pause. “Actually, I wanted to discuss something different. Tell me, Mr. Krynn, I am reviewing your file, and I have checked every single comment from my peers that has tried to convince you to no avail. So, how would you feel about Trelleska?”

Etmes nearly dropped his stimcaf. The rain continued its gentle fall around him, but suddenly the world felt very still.

“The political situation there has been… unstable,” the voice of “Varrick” continued smoothly. “However, a unique opportunity has arisen. A high-level cultural liaison position. A role requiring the skills of an investigative journalist to navigate the… delicate nuances of the Ascension.”

Etmes was speechless. His old life, the real work, the investigations that mattered, were being offered back to him on a silver platter.

“Why now? Why you?” 

The voice carried a hint of satisfaction. “You’ve submitted applications for the past fifty standard cycles. You didn’t miss one. I would have denied this cycle, too, but… let’s say I need a victory today. You, elders, love to dangle your expertise, then reject our offers when we actually need you.” A pause, allowing that to sink in. “However, the position is contingent. It requires acceptance and transfer. You would need to settle your affairs and move to the Yrene-3 within four to five hours and board the Colossus.”

The offer was elegant. Diabolical. 

“Suspicious. To say the least.”

“Should I cancel it?” Varrick asks.

“N-no. That’s not what I said.” 

“Hmmm. Is not suspicious if you made the requests. I am just finally giving up. So, tell me,” the voice of his unseen savior and tormentor asked, “what would you be willing to do to go home, Mr. Krynn?”

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