Chapter 424: Kestrel Administrator 2

One section of the rear hull had taken a hit at some point, but nothing serious enough to explain abandonment.

Aurelian privately opened the Destiny System.

No one reacted.

He asked about the vessel.

The answer appeared quickly.

Vhaloric mobile arsenal-support cruiser.

Dormant command personality: recoverable.

Primary reactor: functional after restart procedure.

Fuel reserve: critically depleted.

Internal munitions: partially preserved.

Recovery threat: low.

Strategic value: high.

Aurelian closed the interface.

He said nothing about what he had seen.

Instead, he gave Astra a normal order.

"Check for fuel-starvation shutdown procedures in the Helion archive."

She nodded.

Eirenne joined through projection from the network.

"I can assist."

Within fifteen minutes, they found the record.

The class had emergency protocols specifically designed for isolation during long patrol missions.

If fuel reserves dropped below a certain point, the ship could land on a stable body, shut down almost completely, and preserve its command core for later recovery.

Aurelian looked at the vessel again.

"So somebody parked her."

"Most likely," Eirenne said.

"Can we restart her?"

"Probably, if the reactor core survived."

Astra looked toward him.

"We should inspect from inside first."

"Agreed."

Black Crown sent a shuttle to the surface.

Aurelian went with Astra.

Mirei and Katsura remained aboard Black Crown, mostly because Aurelian did not need half the ship following him through an unknown Vhaloric hull.

The old cruiser looked even larger from the ground.

Dust covered most of its lower armor, but the hull itself remained solid.

A maintenance access door near the forward section opened after Astra supplied Helion successor authentication.

That saved them from cutting their way inside.

Emergency lights activated one corridor at a time.

The air was thin but breathable.

Aurelian took his helmet off only after Astra confirmed it was safe.

The interior explained the ship’s unusual size.

Almost everything was storage.

Missile compartments ran along both sides of the hull.

Large automated handling systems occupied several decks.

Drone racks filled another section.

There were repair workshops, spare-part storage, fuel-transfer systems, and enough internal machinery to support several smaller ships during a long campaign.

"This thing is a supply ship with too many missiles," Aurelian said.

Astra looked through an open weapons-control room.

"That appears accurate."

They eventually reached the command center.

The main bridge was simple.

Far simpler than Black Crown’s.

Most of the tactical stations had been designed to control automated launch systems rather than direct conventional weapons.

The central command core remained sealed beneath the rear platform.

Astra checked the old controls.

"Core structure is responding."

"Damage?"

"Minimal."

Aurelian sent the authentication request.

The ship processed it slowly.

Then the bridge lights brightened.

A message appeared across the main display.

Emergency recovery authority confirmed.

Successor command recognized.

Command personality revival available.

Aurelian looked toward Astra.

"Any reason not to?"

"Fuel."

"We brought enough to restart the reactor."

"That wasn’t what I meant."

He understood.

Waking a shipgirl aboard a vessel that had almost no fuel meant she might return already weak.

"Can Black Crown transfer enough reserve energy?"

"Yes."

"Do it first."

Astra contacted the ship.

Black Crown sent down two fuel shuttles and a portable reactor-start unit from orbit.

It took more than an hour to bring the ancient cruiser above minimum operational reserve.

Aurelian waited.

There was no point rushing the last step after the ship had waited centuries.

Once Astra confirmed the reactor had stable power, Aurelian authorized revival.

The command core responded immediately.

Light gathered near the central station.

A woman slowly appeared.

She looked older than Seraphiel or Vaelith, though only in appearance.

Her dark brown hair fell loosely over one shoulder, and her uniform resembled an old Vhaloric logistics officer more than a front-line warship.

She opened her eyes.

Then immediately sat down in the command chair.

Aurelian paused.

Astra watched her carefully.

The woman rubbed her forehead.

"Please tell me someone brought fuel."

Aurelian almost laughed.

"We did."

She looked at him.

"Good."

Her voice was tired but clear.

"I was afraid I had been awakened at reserve level again."

"Again?"

She stared at him for a second.

"Long story."

Astra checked the core diagnostics.

"Your energy level is stable."

The woman looked relieved.

"Then I already like you."

Astra did not react.

Aurelian stepped closer.

"I’m Aurelian Arcturus."

The woman’s eyes moved over him before briefly checking the command display.

"Successor authority?"

"Yes."

"Directorate gone?"

"Centuries ago."

She closed her eyes.

Aurelian expected a long silence.

Instead, she sighed.

"That explains why nobody came back."

The words were simple, but the tiredness behind them made Aurelian stop.

"Do you remember what happened?"

"Enough."

She looked around the bridge.

"My patrol group was ordered to withdraw toward Helion. We lost our escort in Mournveil, damaged the rear fuel system, and used almost everything remaining to reach this moon."

"You landed here intentionally."

"Yes."

"Where was your crew?"

"Evacuated onto two surviving patrol ships before shutdown."

Aurelian nodded.

At least there had been a plan.

"What is your name?"

She sat straighter.

"Caelira. Vhaloric arsenal-support cruiser, Hestia pattern, fourth vessel."

Aurelian looked at Astra.

That class name had not appeared in the partial archive.

Caelira noticed.

"You don’t know the pattern?"

"Only part of the record survived."

"Then somebody did a poor job keeping records."

Astra looked toward her.

"Several centuries passed."

Caelira thought about that.

"Fair."

Aurelian opened the basic hull data.

"Tell me what your ship was designed to do."

That seemed to improve her mood.

Caelira stood and brought several systems online.

A full internal model appeared over the bridge table.

"My job was to keep patrol groups fighting beyond normal supply range."

The first set of compartments highlighted.

Missiles.

A lot of them.

Caelira carried three separate launch networks.

The longest-range system fired heavy guided weapons intended to strike capital ships from well outside ordinary gun range.

A second system launched faster medium-range missiles against cruisers, escorts, stations, and other major targets.

The third handled close defense against fighters, drones, boarding craft, and smaller ships.

Aurelian looked at the storage figures.

"How many missiles can you carry?"

"Depends on load."