They finally came to the end of the corridor, which fanned out into a wide doorway. Jackin typed a code into a screen beside it, and the door slid open, revealing some kind of control room. Six stations sat in pairs around each face of a triangular platform. When active, the central platform likely showcased some kind of data center or map, but presently sat vacant.
Jackin slid into one of the seats and pressed both hands into the black monitors recessed into the top of the terminal. Moments later, the screens radiated a soft, yellow-green glow, and the terminal flickered to life. Jackin pushed the green holographic screens into the air, then sat back and swept through menus.
“The reactor is still fully functional,” he mumbled. “Mainframe is online.” He slid across a few controls with his thumb and the overhead lights raised to a dim glow.
“So, they just turned off the lights and left?” Cavalon asked.
Jackin shook his head as he stared at the display.
“When’s the last log?”
“Three months ago,” he said quietly.
Cavalon scoffed. “Three months?”
“Fuck.” Jackin’s brow furrowed, and he leaned back in his seat.
“What? Does it say why they left?”
Jackin remained quiet for a few moments, then took a sharp breath in. “It says redacted.”
Cavalon slid into the chair next to Jackin. “Okay, let’s be serious for a minute, Optio. Last I checked, relay gates are some seriously important strategic resources. When was the last time the Legion abandoned an Apollo Gate?”
Jackin continued staring at the interface. “Maybe during the Viator War.”
“Yeah, the Viator War. Two hundred years ago. Something’s going on.”
Jackin finally broke his glower and turned to him, dark brown eyes equal parts worried and resigned. “Like what?”
“Well, I suppose the Viators might have spontaneously reanimated and murdered everyone…”
Jackin rolled his eyes.
“In which case, there’s a distinct lack of blood and guts and destruction.”
“Or?”
“Or … maybe the Legion’s no longer supporting the Sentinels.”
“They couldn’t really lend us less support than they already do.”
“Well…” Cavalon gestured at the lifeless station around them. “This certainly seems to demonstrate that.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Jackin said, jaw firm. “We’ll deal with that later. We’re on a schedule. Let’s get the comms on and get them on the horn.”
Cavalon nodded. “You’re the boss.”
Jackin turned back to the terminal, sweeping through menus. After a few minutes, a negative tone beeped and the screen cast a red glow on his furrowed brow. He leaned forward, trying the input again, but got the same results.
“Damn,” Jackin said. “We’re getting interference.”
“From what?”
“I don’t know.” He tapped the controls and tried again. “I might be able to boost the signal…”
“Physically or…” Cavalon wiggled his fingers at the computer. “… via the code?”
“Either.” Jackin sighed. “Both.”
“Okay, tell me what you need.”
Jackin stared back at him skeptically.
Cavalon held his hands up. “Only trying to help, Optio. I can go adjust stuff in the comms room if you wanna do your thing with the code here. Divide and conquer, and all that.”