Anamnesis

Ikora lowers her datapad and turns to the holoprojector in her office. Outside is the Traveler in miniature, its Valence shimmering at the edges of the portal. The aura has softened now. The Valence grows dim. It was such a mystery in those early days after the death of the Witness; a phenomenon that birthed phenomena. The Witness was a being of great complexity. In life, it was a singular being of Darkness, but that Darkness encompassed a constellation of consciousness. It was largely made of the Witness's progenitor species, but other memories were nestled within that Darkness too. Each one unique, each a glimpse of the moment of encounter; from a single individual facing down the Black Fleet to an entire planet collapsing in its shadow. Ikora considers the nature of the Echoes, largely formed from memories. The Echo in Eramis's possession holds the memory of Riis, but Ikora wonders suddenly: Is it the memory of a planet? The gravitational well connected to Riis? She makes a note in her datapad. They did not yet know which memory Maya's Echo held. And then here was him. The Echo of the Navigator. Ikora sneers. She has no interest in meeting him. Echoes seem more trouble than they are worth. She grimaces, knowing that if there are more, they will find them. Ikora turns off the projector, picks up her datapad. Her math confirms her suspicion: the Valence has no more secrets to share. Multiple Echoes had been released from it, but now it simply shines, inert. The Valence's dimming is a welcome omen—fewer weapons to fall on a hungry world. The assurance of control eases her shoulders. Ikora sighs. A sudden beeping jolts her from contemplation. Sensors are acting strangely. Someone is calling.