Language barriers proved relatively easy to resolve. By finding mutual reference points, both sides quickly managed to translate their conversations.
However, the female leader of the aliens clearly lacked patience. After a brief appearance, she departed swiftly, leaving behind a female guard in her place.
Later, Reggie learned the guard’s name was Tella, who referred to herself as the Empress’s Chief Guard.
As suspected, this was royalty. Yet, it seemed odd for their Empress to personally visit—did she have too much free time?
Reggie couldn’t make sense of their relationships, but he didn’t dare to ask Tella. This alien female was stoic and unapproachable, making communication nearly impossible.
Reggie’s earlier assumption proved correct: the Riken’s prison was indeed the Cat’s Ear Spaceship. His foresight in suggesting surrender earlier had improved the Riken tribe’s quality of life considerably.
The aliens didn’t restrict their movements. After dismantling a few components from the ship’s engine and disabling the AI, they allowed the Rikens free rein within the ship’s cabins.
The Cat’s Ear Spaceship had been dragged to the asteroid belt near T855. From the windows, one could clearly see small, nearby asteroids. Over time, numerous alien researchers came aboard.
These researchers were much more normal-looking than the intimidating guards. Did the aliens draw such clear distinctions between their scientific and military personnel? Was it that obvious based solely on appearance?
Reggie had once observed the guards’ armor up close. It was genuinely part of their bodies.Incredible.
At least, seeing his old friend Lute utterly dumbfounded made Reggie feel a bit better.
The researchers were exceptionally intelligent, quickly learning the Riken language. During conversations, they asked detailed questions about the Cat’s Ear Spaceship’s various instruments, their functions, and principles.
Under Reggie’s subtle guidance, the Rikens withheld critical information. The aliens didn’t seem to mind.
Gradually, Reggie became somewhat friendly with a few alien researchers and learned they referred to themselves as the Swarm.
He had no idea what that meant and resorted to a phonetic transcription. Just as the Swarm didn’t comprehend the meaning behind “Riken,” the Riken didn’t understand “Swarm.”
Reggie continued to extract information. Why didn’t they have armor? Who was the female alien that day? Who was their leader?
“Morgan, why don’t you have armor?”
“Because it’s unnecessary.”
“Do you mean you could grow it if you wanted?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Just eat more.”
For some reason, Reggie felt Morgan, the alien researcher, was mocking him.
“Who was the female alien that day?”
“Sarah Kerrigan.”
“What’s her role?”
“Commander.”
“Is she your leader?”
“No, she leads the Blades.”
“And you?”
“I am part of the Swarm.”
Reggie felt he was onto something and quickly probed further. “Are you two separate species? An alliance between the Blades and the Swarm?”
That would explain why they looked different—they weren’t even the same species.
Morgan shook his head. “The Blades are the Swarm, but the Swarm isn’t just the Blades.”
“???” Reggie pondered for a moment before hesitantly asking, “So, the Blades are a part of the Swarm?”
“Correct.”
Reggie pieced it together in his head. Based on Morgan’s explanation, the collective entity was called the Swarm, but it had many factions, one of which was the Blades, led by Kerrigan. ṝÀΝꝋВËS
That seemed to be the gist of it.
This was significant intelligence. He wondered about the dynamics between these groups and whether there were any exploitable opportunities.
The aliens seemed blissfully unaware of Riken cunning, sharing information freely. He’d need to discuss this with Lute and Major Camis later.
For now, Reggie feigned ignorance and asked, “Does the Swarm have a leader?”
“Yes.”
“Who? Can I meet them?”
“In time, you might. He calls himself F2A,” Morgan replied with a peculiar smile.
“???” Reggie was baffled. That name felt entirely out of place compared to the others.
Morgan seemed disinclined to continue the topic, instead asking about operating various instruments.
Out of politeness, Reggie shared trivial information while guarding the ship’s core secrets. These details were his bargaining chips—he wouldn’t give them away so easily.
Morgan clearly noticed Reggie’s guardedness but didn’t seem to care.
That evening, the “Three Giants” of the Cat’s Ear Spaceship—Reggie, Lute, and Major Camis—held a secret dinner meeting.
“I have a bad feeling,” Lute began.
“What’s wrong?” Reggie asked, puzzled. His experience over the past few days had been relatively positive. The aliens were candid, answering almost all questions, and he’d gathered considerable intelligence.
“They’re too candid.”
“And that’s bad because…?”
Lute grew exasperated. “Did your brain short-circuit? You should’ve noticed this before me—I’m just a scientific advisor!”
Reggie’s heart sank. His old friend wouldn’t say this without cause. Recently, his decision to surrender and preserve the Cat’s Ear Spaceship had earned him praise from the crew for his foresight.
The aliens also treated them courteously. Aside from questions about release or returning to Riken’s home planet, the aliens answered everything.
This had made him complacent.
Lute’s words jolted him back to reality.
Yes, the aliens’ openness might not stem from goodwill but from the belief that the Rikens would never leave alive. What good was intelligence if they couldn’t escape to deliver it?
The realization sent a cold sweat down Reggie’s back. Fortunately, it wasn’t too late. His overheated brain cooled, and his wits returned. After some thought, he asked Lute, “Do we have a chance to escape? They haven’t restricted us. Can we secretly repair the ship?”
“Escape? Where would we go? Impossible,” Lute said. “They dismantled the engine beyond repair. Even if we somehow fixed it, the solar sail is destroyed. Without it, the ship’s speed would take us over a thousand years to reach home—even without factoring in energy reserves or the chance of structural failure.”
Lute was near collapse.
“If escape is impossible, stop thinking about it,” Major Camis interjected with surprising nonchalance. “Eat well, sleep well—at worst, we die.”
The three fell silent. Their meeting ended with a grim mood. Reggie, now depressed, didn’t even feel like sharing his hypothesis about the Swarm’s internal factions.
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