"The manoeuvre is complete. A safe orbit has been maintained."

Leanne realised she had been grasping the arms of her seat in a death grip. She had expected at any moment for a disaster: a breach in the hull, a malfunction in the heat shields, a gust of poisonous air infecting her re-breather... None of them had occurred. As she looked at the projected trajectory of the Chimera, she saw that it was in the green, blinking securely. Valkyrie had delivered on its promise.

She gradually released her grip. "It is done?" she asked.

"Yes, the manoeuvre is complete. A safe orbit has been maintained. Station-keeping will have to be performed in a regular manner, but I can take care of that."

"No, it is alright. I shall do that. Just alert me when it is needed."

"Ms Ziegler, with respect, the controls of this ship are under strict security, some of which only I can access. They are intended to be performed by someone with many hours in this vessel."

"I know. You shall have to teach me, then. And it is 'Miss Ziegler'... or 'Commander Ziegler' I guess now."

"Okay, Miss Ziegler."

Leanne could not read the tone of the AI. She supposed it did not have a 'tone', only frequencies and algorithms programmed into it. One of those codes might have been the one which had interfered with Phaethon. Leanne could not bring herself to trust the thing, not with Cliff's body still floating in the depths of space. A tight band squeezed around her chest at the thought. God, she should not be here alone.

The sudden restriction made her think of what still needed to be done. If she were to have any hope of survival, she had to reawaken the other systems onboard. Firstly, whatever Environmental Controls the Chimera had: oxygen generators, carbon scrubbers, heating panels, atmospheric checkers... Then, comms, both internal and external. She wanted to know what was happening on the ship as much as what was happening outside of it. She was operating entirely on her own volition, past the scope of her orders. Even just a flicker of acknowledgment from the BASE or Nerio would be enough.

Would a rescue or recovery team come for her? Or had she been thrown to the mercy of the Chimera, of Valkyrie?

"Can you show me a blueprint of this ship?" Leanne asked. "I need to know where the system controls are. Oxygen, comms, energy..."

"I'm sorry, Miss Ziegler, I cannot show you any blueprints or plans. They are..."

"Under strict security, yeah. I thought so. Can you at least tell me where I can find them?"

"I would be happy to direct you."

"Fine. Okay."

Leanne checked her exosuit readings as she left the cockpit, ushered along by Valkyrie. The O2 levels were still dropping, indicating she had just over two hours left. Desperately, she looked to see if any messages had been patched through to her but the radio signals were still negative. Only radiation and the voice of Valkyrie surrounded her.

She knew she could try to ask the AI more about this ship. She was obviously the caretaker, omnipotent and intelligent. But Leanne had never encountered a computer who could talk so eloquently and responsively before. She was pretty sure even the huge Imperium supercomputer down at Nerio did not have any vocalisations, but then who knew with the Martians? For a while now they had been secretive and cold towards the BASE. Leanne had heard a rumour that they believed this vessel was a probe sent to spy on them by the corporation.

If they could see the interior of it, they would know differently. The BASE did not have the capability to produce a vessel like this, despite what Valkyrie claimed. As Leanne navigated the wide, dark corridors of the Chimera, she was nearly overwhelmed with the size and complexity of them. Yet it was not a busy, messy complexity as on other BASE vessels, consumed with wires and panels. This was sleek and polished, almost elegant. She found herself trying to work out how such a vessel had been constructed: where, when, with what materials and skills... If the BASE had been building such a beautiful ship, they would not have shut up about it.

Leanne had officially worked for the company for ten years, since she had turned eighteen and got her first desk job on Helios, but unofficially she had given her life to them since birth. Her parents had been BASE employees through and through, living and working in the central facility in Krasnoyarsk. Once the BASE had their claws in a family, they did not let them go, raising them on site, involving them in events and celebrations from a young age, filtering them into the employee pool as soon as they could. Leanne had barely been five before she had gone to space for the first time, visiting the nearby Endymion lunar orbiter. It had fascinated her, engulfed her.

Now she was an legal liaison, working amidst lawsuits and investigations. She had crawled into more derelict mining shuttles, broken orbiters and problematic bases than she could name. This should have been routine. But no, nothing about this case was routine. Everything she thought she knew about the BASE was unravelling before her.

Finally, Leanne reached the chamber Valkyrie directed her to. A door rushed open and she clambered through via the handholds.

"If it would help, I can illuminate the chamber," Valkyrie said.

"That would help."

Around Leanne, great panels made themselves known. They shuddered with grumbles she could hear through her helmet, beginning to illuminate the surrounding bulkheads with white light. One by one, they shivered to life. Leanne clung to the handhold as she stared into the mouth of the huge chamber. Two lines of consoles and computers appeared in the central aisle. They glowed with the same blue aura as in the cockpit.

"My god," she said. "What is this ship?"

"You shall find it easiest to operate these controls first, Miss Ziegler," Valkyrie intoned. "These will restore gravity."

"How do you mean, 'restore gravity'?"

A pause. "I do not understand the question."

"How do you 'restore gravity'? Do you mean 'simulate gravity'?"

"I did not use the incorrect word, Miss Ziegler. This ship is equipped with artificial gravity, as is the standard."

"The standard?"

It was not the standard of the BASE. Ever since the early days of the ungainly underground rotating structures of the old lunar base Colchis, the BASE operated with centrifuges to simulate gravity. Creating gravity was not possible. But, sure enough, under Valkyrie's directions, Leanne accessed the systems and gradually, felt her feet lower to the ground. She could not believe it, thought the ship must have begun to move and spin, but her suit told her she had remained in the exact same position. She looked around, trying to formulate an explanation. Her body stayed firmly on the ground.

"I don't understand," she could only think to say.

"I shall highlight the Environmental Controls next, Miss Ziegler," Valkyrie continued. "These will make things more comfortable for you."

Another section illuminated on the panels. Bars flickered, indicating the O2 levels were at 0%, the temperature a frigid -50 degrees Celsius, but the atmospheric pressure had at least regulated itself with the sturdy hull and bulkheads. Leanne could see there were other compartments to the Environmental Controls, a great spider's web of connections that spanned the entire ship, but these were inaccessible. God, what on earth was on this ship?

With Valkyrie, she worked to bring the conditions to a survivable standard. Still, when Valkyrie announced, "You may remove your helmet, Miss Ziegler. The air is safe to breathe," she hesitated.

"I promise you, the environment is secure," Valkyrie said, reading her actions and seemingly her thoughts as soon as they came into her head. "Your suit should inform you if it is not and I do not believe it has."

Valkyrie was correct. Her exosuit displayed no alerts about the conditions. It, instead, informed her that her own oxygen cylinders were depleting fast. If she kept the helmet on, she would suffocate, all because of a distrust of this AI computer and its unreadable tone.

As she reached for the catches on her helmet, she told herself this didn't mean she was laying her life in Valkyrie's hands. Leanne worked on her own initiative and instinct. She would not trust anything on this ship, could barely trust what she was currently seeing.

The latches unclicked. With a firm push, she twisted the helmet and freed it. The tiniest gap appeared. She dared to take a breath. The aroma of fresh air, unrecycled, untouched, reached her lungs. She had not tasted such a thing for years, not since leaving Earth for Helios. She swore she could smell the sea in the scent, a slight, pleasant tang to the atmosphere. Confidently, greedily now, she opened her helmet further and lifted it from her head. Relieved by the sudden feel of space and freedom, she pulled off her Snoopy cap and shook down her long blonde hair that had been tightly bound up.

"Pleasant, yes?" Valkyrie asked.

Leanne had been in her suit for what felt like days. With practiced hands, she undid her gloves from their links around her arms and reached for the panoply of zippers and clasps. The Kevlar and nylon materials peeled away from her jumpsuit beneath as though she was shedding a second skin. For the first time, she could move her shoulders and legs properly, without restriction, and she did, stretching and arching her back. The shoes she left beside a console, padding to the floor in her socks decorated with stars. The walkway was nicely warm beneath her soles, as if heated beneath.

"Right," she said. "I need to try and re-establish contact with the BASE. How is communication maintained on this ship? Where are the internal and external lines?"

"This ship has the most up-to-date communication systems," Valkyrie said with a trace of pride in its voice. "However, they are very sensitive and must be kept under strict surveillance to ensure proper maintenance and use. Each crew member can access the ship's intranet as well as the wider web. For longer-range communication, there are proper channels which..."

"I need to reach the BASE or Nerio colony. They will be waiting for notice from me."

"I understand, Miss Ziegler. I would be happy to send a message for you."

Leanne paused. "I would rather do that myself. They need to hear from me." And so I can request rescue and back-up, she thought. She didn't know if Valkyrie would add that message.

"Of course. Allow me to access the relevant channels."

A long silence stretched, broken only by the low hum of the consoles. Leanne crossed her arms over her chest, feeling vulnerable in the midst of the massive chamber. She could not forget how every single one of those panels was controlled by Valkyrie, and Valkyrie alone. The AI was obviously the heart of the ship, the one who decided what worked and what didn't, what gained access and what didn't, what lived and what didn't...

Leanne shook her head. Valkyrie had not killed Cliff. Phaethon had done that. But where had the interfering signal come from? If not Valkyrie, then who?

Valkyrie, she suddenly thought, remembering a morsel of knowledge. A valkyrie was a mythological figure that decided which warriors ascended to Valhalla. How very fitting.

"I'm sorry, Miss Ziegler," Valkyrie said. "I cannot access the comms right now. There is a warning from Airlock-C."

Leanne's insides iced over. "What?"

"The airlock has been opened."

"My god..." Leanne scrambled to retrieve her exosuit and helmet. But no sooner had she grabbed them, did Valkyrie continue.

"There is no need to worry, Miss Ziegler. It is the probe that accompanied you."

"Phaethon." Leanne whispered the word, heart dropping from her chest. "It's on the ship."

Word count: 2015
Overall word count: 7006

My third ONC shoutout goes to CMF_Wright whose ONC entry, How to Poison your Husband, is a hilarious and entertaining fantasy. Such a fun read!