The training session lasted exactly forty minutes. Finally, lines began to crawl across the screens of the helmet displays of the spacesuits, informing people about the end of the training, and the ship's siren briefly purred, notifying them of the shutdown of the simulation mode. The crew quickly and quietly took their seats according to the usual flight schedule. The emergency party eliminated the consequences of the fires, bringing the compartments allocated for fires to a normal state. The usual lighting turned on, and the remote controls, which had been de-energized for the duration of the training, started working.

Captain Anderson entered his cabin and announced the general results of the training over the speakerphone. All the Normans got it. Without the slightest exception. The omny-tools of the crew members received files with a complete analysis of the actions of each of the officers, sergeants, petty officers and privates, a complete timeline of events, as well as a possible and realistic perspective of the mistakes and shortcomings made.

"The first training session showed, colleagues, that the crew is ready for real combat operations with a rating of "mediocre"" Captain Anderson said over the ship's broadcast. The training will be complicated and repeated over the next three days." With that, Anderson turned off the ship-wide broadcast and looked at Shepard, who was sitting next to him. It's a good thing that Naylus Kraik didn't try to get out of his cabin." He was silent for a few seconds, as usual. "Okay, that's it, by the way. I'm more interested and worried about who would give us these three quiet days to train."

"We only have a little over a day left, sir, before we have to fight," Shepard replied. "And, to be honest, I was expecting just such a result. It is mediocre. It's also good that it's not bad." Shepard slowly turned his head and looked around the commander's cabin. "At the very least, we now have a full complement of specialists who have more or less mastered their duties. This allows us to hope. Although hope against such a ship," he pointed with his gaze at the "shrimp" flickering on the nearest wall screen located above the commander's desk, "is too weak a basis for victory.

"Now all the Normans will be on edge." Anderson said thoughtfully.

"I don't think we'll be able to relax for long anymore, Commander." Said Shepard. "I do not believe that there is only one such ship. The archaeological base proves with certainty that there are at least several dozen such ships. The total life span of detachments of such ships, if you look at the age of the drawings, is generally difficult to imagine: more than thirty million years. There is a drawing from forty million years ago. This is an unimaginable figure for humanity.

"For most of the intelligent organic races known to us, earthlings, the explored part of the Milky Way Space is the same," said the cabin owner. At best, two or three million years. But not thirty. Not forty." Anderson nodded, agreeing with the XO's opinion. "Do you think we'll need the support of Earth's fleets?"

"No, Commander. Any movement of our fleets now will cause unhealthy and unnecessary interest in Eden Prime, provoke this ship to take active action — both against the planet and against the fleets. I do not believe that we will not be able to fulfill our task to the maximum. One ship against one ship with the support of the planet's infrastructure is fair. A fleet against one, even such a strong ship— is a sign of weakness and immaturity," Shepard remarked with conviction. "We cannot give the Citadels any reason to continue to be considered a "childish" race."

"I wish I knew why this ship came to Eden Prime," Anderson said.

"No matter why he arrived, his appearance on the planet can be confidently qualified as an invasion. Even without taking a position at the repeater, without conducting a full hardware remote reconnaissance, without using the Forecast complex in combat mode, you can be sure that someone else's ship has arrived for something very valuable and important. So far, I can't think of anything but a Prothean beacon, Commander," Shepard admitted honestly. "I wish I knew why he needed it."

"We'll find out, Captain." Anderson turned on the additional screens "For now, let's think together about how to make another workout more difficult. I think it should be scheduled for half past five in the evening. The third training session will be held at half past nine in the evening. At eleven o'clock in the evening, the ship will dock at the repeater point. The duty shifts will start working with real data obtained during remote hardware reconnaissance. To be honest, I'm waiting for the frigate's equipment to "dig up" for us. I can already see that we won't be able to do without a clash with this ship." Anderson glanced at the flickering image of the shrimp, then looked at the executive officer.

"I'm sure of it, Commander," Shepard agreed, turning on his omny-tool. Both senior officers of the ship began to form a scenario for the next training session.

* * *

At half past five in the evening, the silence on the ship was broken by the bells of a loud battle. This time, the alarm was not an emergency, but a combat one.

The frigate's virtual intelligence worked at full capacity, creating all sorts of tricks for the crew members working at the controls and extremely reducing the time for both decision-making and necessary actions.

Anderson and Shepard participated in this training along with all the crew members on equal terms. The conditions and parameters of the training changed during its implementation. The ship's VI followed only the general plan, otherwise he was free to choose his options.

* * *

At seven o'clock, a siren blared briefly to indicate the end of the training session. Helmet locks clicked, and the emergency blood-red lighting was replaced by the usual yellowish-white. Fifteen minutes after the siren, VI analysis of the training was posted on the wall screens. The information was also sent to the omny-tools of the frigate's crew members.

"Not much better," Anderson said, meeting Shepard again in his cabin. "Now I see that the third training session is absolutely necessary."

"Commander, allow me to report," the voice of the senior gunner rang out. "The zero accuracy class in the settings of the ship's artillery systems has been achieved and fixed."

"Accepted. Prepare the artillery systems for effective fire," Anderson ordered. "Reduce the time to bring the artillery systems into combat position to a minimum. Even a second would be too much of a luxury for us. Go ahead.

"Yes, sir," the senior gunner replied and turned off the channel.

"Do you expect both an attack and a finish?" Anderson asked, having read the data transmitted from the ship's gunners' consoles on his omny-tool.

"Yes, Captain. If the influence of the planet's infrastructure, including weather control stations and equipment for monorails and spaceports, is effective, then we will have to really guarantee that it is impossible for this ship to put up any effective resistance."

"And indoctrination?"

"Commander, I'm not going to erect paper castles, but after such a complex impact, rapid indoctrination is out of the question, in my opinion — the shrimp simply won't have enough energy for a pulse, and the landing group under my leadership will cope with the rest. A blow to the planet's energy infrastructure, a blow from the Eden climate installations, a blow from an exploration ship — three blows combined will be able to ensure the inactivity of this monster for a sufficiently long time. I assume that the ship will survive after such a complex strike, but will it be more than a hull?..."

"I see something is bothering you, Captain." Anderson took a close look at the first officer. "Something that you don't want to accept as even a hypothesis yet."

"Captain, I'm not sure how to put it exactly. I really want to believe that after the collision with this ship, we will no longer have such problems. And I can't. There is no feeling that this will be an isolated incident. Such a ship appeared in the space of the Galaxy when the Apocalypse was approaching for any intelligent race capable of leaving a clear image of it on some durable material medium. Which means that the ship did not use its weapons to the fullest. He did not immediately destroy intelligent, mostly, I think, organic life. He was... playing cat and mouse with her, or something. He was proud of his might, his invulnerability, his strength, his might. It was exhausting. The punishment," Shepard said thoughtfully but clearly. "What was he punished for? I don't know. It's not clear to me. Why was there no more evidence of these ships on the planets where descendants later found such images? Where are all the locals — reasonable and not so — residents? I know that archaeologists are not omnipotent, but any excavations proved the almost complete absence of remains. Does this mean that there was more than one such ship? Does this mean that he came to this planet accompanied by smaller ships? Who had other capabilities or performed other functions? I don't know. Something tells me that this ship is the beginning of a terrible period in the history of the Milky Way. And the fact that he moved to our human colonized planet... Does this mean that we humans, humanity, are in the forefront of destruction?" There was no tension or worry in Shepard's voice — it was even, but Anderson felt that the XO was not only speaking seriously after reflecting on what he had said, he was speaking from the heart, not caring. "I'm not ready to say that this is a pure machine driven by a program, Captain. And I'm also not ready to say that it's a living being. I have to assume that in order to defeat such a creature of unknown intelligence, we will have to combine the power of intelligent organic and synthetic life. I understand that none of the current races of the Milky Way will agree to a full-scale synthesis. Maybe we can manage with coexistence, partnership, and alliance. But only at the expense of organic life, its capabilities to defeat a horde of such ships.... I have no feeling that such a ship is the only one or there are few of them, Commander..." Shepard saw that Anderson was listening to him attentively and was satisfied with this attention, and most importantly, with his understanding of what was said. Still, it's good when the commander of a ship is a person equal to you, the senior assistant, in terms of level and profile of training. Until we can get artificial intelligence as our allies, we will have to work in regimes beyond the limits for organics. And there's this problem, Captain." Shepard pointed to the image of the repeater that had already appeared on the navigator's screen. "We humans are a young race by the standards of the Galaxy. And we... with an ease worthy of better use, have already "clung" to the repeaters. And, accordingly, almost completely stopped the development of engines and systems that make it possible to do without these catapults. If it weren't for this repeater, it wouldn't be necessary to move through the tunnel it broke through.... We could apply most of the intelligence techniques known to mankind. But the distances between the systems... Huge for our current capabilities. It is clear that in a year's time, Eden Prime may well be left a bare, stony cobblestone, devoid of atmosphere and almost all of the current infrastructure. Only a year and everything can change dramatically for the worse for us, intelligent organics. And for some reason, I know we don't have this year. And maybe not even a month. Not even ten days. If we don't show up on the planet tomorrow... this ship will fulfill its function. And I personally have no doubt that he will leave the planet. It will leave loudly and very painfully. It hurts for us organics. He will leave because he is sure that we have nothing significant to oppose him. For us, the intelligent organics of the Galaxy, I am sure that in just a few hours... information about the shrimp and its actions... will be a shock to the entire crew of our ship, without the slightest exception. According to my calculations, there are only a few hours left before this "shrimp" enters the range of the long-range scanners of the Eden control system. "Shepard did not voice the standard phrase, indicating regret for the unrealization of many already worked-out plans. "If you do not take into account many points, then, according to the standard scenario, the first thing this ship will do is "cut off" all long-range communications. The planet won't be able to call for help. The Idens will be calling, but they... won't be heard. I assume that this monster has a powerful system on board that filters information traffic. From the outside, almost everything will be as usual. But any hint of a call, of information about what happened, will undoubtedly be tracked and blocked by the Reaper. This planet does not have the latest military communications centers, nor does it have a developed military infrastructure. I believe that this is not a reason to calm down. Even systems like the Martian anti-space defense with its truly cyclopean guns will be able to do little against this "shrimp"."

"Do you think that after landing on the planet, the ship will be more vulnerable?" Anderson asked, looking through the profile data on his instrumentation.

"The large ships of most intelligent organic races known to me are generally unable to make any regular landings on planets for various reasons. Any of the possible and acceptable ones." Shepard asked. "Except in the event of a disaster, but this is no longer a standard landing. This is a fall. To keep such a Reaper ship in the position of immediate takeoff, I dare say, a significant part of the onboard energy will be consumed. If we imagine a "chain", then its first link is the landing of such a ship on a planet, the second is the absence of the need for such a ship to move around the planet, the third is the fulfillment of some short-term mission by the amphibious crews of the ship, the fourth is the lack of the "natives" the ability to significantly oppose both the ship itself and its The landing party. As a result, it is clear that even an automaton of the current VI level or even a minimal AI will not keep the shields at maximum — energy will be required for the banal constant balancing of the ship's position in space. These paws," Shepard touched the giant "appendages" with the beam of the laser pointer, "may well not be the supports of the ship in this particular case, taking on its weight. I suspect that they will be brought together. And the ship itself will barely touch the surface of the planet with its "paws". Perhaps, by doing so, they indicate the landing, misleading the locals, disguising themselves. Keeping a "cocoon" around the hull will allow it to launch immediately, without lengthy preparation. "Cocoon" — there will be, shields — there will be. But it's hard for me to imagine an automaton keeping its shields at maximum in such a safe atmosphere and on an almost unarmed planet. This is paranoia, and automatons don't suffer from paranoia," Shepard clarified. "Only the creators of automata can suffer from it, but it is very difficult to fully program paranoia."