Recovered from: EVA-node passive sensor stack
Status: Mid-sequence / Stable playback
______
Ty floated inside the upper observatory of the H.IX—a smaller Harvester-class transporter - watching the interstellar rock keep pace with them through reinforced glass.
Bisita.
An ancient asteroid. Maybe as old as the universe. She spun slowly in the void, crusted with frozen rust, distant and real in a way only space could be.
EMI's intercept program had slowed her down with multiple attached probes. Now it was up to him and Jamaal - the next step in the mission. Their job: prep the sling. A heavier-grade probe capable of altering Bisita's trajectory. If it worked, the asteroid would be pulled into Callisto's magnetic field in about six months and caught in orbit. Then the mining fleets would pick it apart, like vultures with permission.
That part came later. This part - the hard part - was his.
This was only Harvester's fourth visitor-class mission. Nothing like the NEO operations they were used to. Near-Earth objects were familiar. But Bisita was different. Alien. Even if she was just rock and ice.
Ty's role was simple on paper: place explosive charges to split the larger body into two safer chunks. Too big, and she'd overshoot orbit. Worse, she might hit Titan Station. Or Earth. Or just keep going.
Wouldn't want that.
______
Jamaal (over intercom):
"The H.IX is locked onto trajectory with the Bisita. Exploder and Sling team, stand by."
______
Ty glanced around the exit bay. The sling team floated in mech suits like his, waiting. One pilot gave him a thumbs up with a mechanical arm - its gesture fluid, mimicking human motion.
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He nodded back.
Ty (over comms):
"All systems go. Open hatch, please."
The hatch hissed open. Ty inside the giant EVA Mech eased out, tether unwinding behind him. The only sounds were the spool's soft clatter, his own breath, and the low hum of the comms.
Bisita loomed two clicks above.
"Forward thrusters - engage."
A gentle push. He launched toward her.
The rock's shape grew clearer: long, wide, asymmetrical. Icy protrusions swept back like frozen feathers. The southern tip was thickest, a solid wedge of compressed matter. If he could cut there - separate it cleanly - the remaining mass would be easier to sling.
He carried eight charges. Two on each leg, four strapped across his back. He'd start with one.
Jamaal (soft):
"Ty, you're in safe launch position now. Don't get much closer."
Ty:
"All right, bro. Initiating reverse thrust for braking."
He locked into position. Bisita filled the center of his visor. The H.IX sat steady at his eleven o'clock.
Ty loaded two charges into the launcher attached to the EVA Mech's arm.
"Charges loaded."
A blink-gesture zoomed in the visor optics. He pinned the base of the southern tip.
"Central target locked. Requesting permission to execute."
A beat of silence. Safety protocols double-checked. Then Major Catalan's voice:
Catalan (flat, final):
"Fire away."
Ty tapped the release. The rocket clicked free and ignited - veering slightly, adjusting its own course.
On his display, it struck precisely at the pinned point. Claws deployed. The red light blinked: armed.
The rock cracked slightly. A bloom of glistening dust lifted from the impact site - ice crystals sparkling in a vacuum.
Ty exhaled.
Nothing had touched Bisita for eons. Now he had.
A visitor from the dawn of space. And now - changed.
-???
______
Memory Trace Integrity: 91%
Emotional Notes: Calm focus. Technical confidence. Fleeting awe.
Structural Notes: Fully sequenced. No duplication errors.
Action: Synchronize. Do Not Delete.

