by Michael Kan
A lone machine had stepped into the room. It was a combat drone presumably under the Enforcer’s command and covered in chrome. He was messaging her, although on a different frequency. What is it? she asked, fearing something might be wrong.
The neighboring drone was tall, almost three times her size. Through her scans, she saw the shadow grow as the drone walked, bladed in metal. But very quickly the arms morphed and became two well-defined hands.
The technology is yours, the drone said, answering through the comm. After all this effort, you possess it.
The machine joined her at the site and glanced up at the secret research. Farcia noticed the singular eye flare in red. The drone then gestured to the technology with a lone finger. Like her, he was inspecting the column of black.
Yes she replied. We finally have it.
And I imagine you must be very pleased.
Farcia was surprised by the remark. The Enforcer was generally an entity of few words. Nor was he one to engage in much idle conversation.
Are you not impressed by it? he went on.
The machine waited for her response, as he planted his finger against the technology’s surface.
Farcia looked at her companion and suddenly became guarded. It’s just a tool, she said. With it, I can finally return to my people. That’s all I want.
So, you long for home. Don’t we all?
The machine and his finger remained attached to the column. Farcia could only assume it was all part of a final analysis.
But so many have died the drone continued. A necessary cost, I suppose
It was another strange remark from the machine. Farcia listened to the mechanical voice speak, but she heard nothing that was cold or calculating. Rather, his statements were oddly reflective. She wondered if it was an error in the translation.
Yes the cost, Farcia said. But this universe all it’s ever done is cause ruin.
She was speaking about billions of lives, and yet Farcia easily dismissed them.
I take it you don’t approve, then. Of this universe, the drone said.
It’s an abomination, she replied. It should never have existed.
She uttered the words, convinced it was true. Her stare was concealed behind the helmet, but the anger was beaming from her eyes. In response, the machine merely went on with the work. He held still, watching her with his singular eye.
I see, he said finally. Then perhaps we should rid ourselves of this place.
In another moment, his finger lifted away. He then stepped back from the technology, having completed the scan.
When? she asked. When can you deploy?
The Enforcer had yet to offer a firm timetable. The technology was theirs, but he was still running the simulations and refining the process they sought to harness and create.
The drone before Farcia offered his own reply.
Soon, he said. Very soon.
The machine then left, completing his preliminary task. The chrome body turned away, reverting his two hands back into giant blades.
Farcia shrugged. The Enforcer had replied with the same answer he had given before. Having seen enough, she, too, left the room and returned to the mother ship.
Unbeknownst to Farcia, however, the drone would follow, watching her every step.
The first and second stage of reconnaissance was done. The target and a variety of threats had all been accounted for. Now it was simply a matter of finding an exit.
The machine would find it soon.
***
Not all her surroundings were darkness and shadow. In a small corner of the mother ship was a passageway into another separate area.
The change was stark. The black and gray walls from the Enforcer’s vessel receded as Farcia walked past the soul-less machine hull. She could sense the light approaching. The connecting terminal had ended, and on the other side was the shuttle.
It greeted her modestly, igniting a fringe of lights around the central door. The craft was small, designed for light travel, and by no means was it built for war. But in contrast to the cold interiors of the mother ship, her own personal shuttle was embellished with yellow and white. Holding her helmet at her waist, Farcia boarded the craft. The door opened, and the warmth blew over her skin.
The interior was just as bright and almost luxurious. Everything inside, from the furniture to the floors and console boards, was inlaid with some variant of gold.
She threw her helmet off to the side and fell down into the floating chair. It was soft and pillowy and hovered above the floor. It was here that Farcia had often slept, buoyed up in the air. She pressed a nodule on her chest and let the fabric of the environmental suit unclamp. The cloth slowly shriveled, becoming a tight ball that fell to the ground. Farcia was too tired to pick it up. She let it roll to the rest of the mess inside the craft.
Sprawled on the floor was a clutter of clothes, along with her personal acquisitions. She glanced down and saw the medical vials and drugs. She had once had a large collection, all nicely arranged along a counter on the ship’s wall. But in her rage and frustration, she had thrown it to the floor. The medicine could only blunt the searing pain, not cure it, and finding it useless, she had tossed it aside weeks ago.
Bits of glass from the vials had shattered, and still she could smell the chemical odor in the air. Her ills were always more psychological than physical. But still, something was changing. Farcia coughed and then vomited. She teetered on the side of the floating chair and spat out the bile from her gills. She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. A headache was suddenly eating into her mind. She looked painfully down at the mess on the floor. Farcia wished it would all go away. Not just the pain, but the mess. In every breath, she could inhale the chemical air, and now there was this smell of her insides on the floor.
Farcia fell back into her chair, hearing the solution in her mind.
Use the cleaner, the man had once said.
It was an errant voice that entered her thoughts. The words were familiar, but the man who had spoken them was now dead.
Red
Farcia looked across the cabin room. In the corner was the automated cleaner. It was an orb like machine that usually performed maintenance around the craft. She had deactivated the cleaner some time ago. Farcia had been afraid it would remove something she might need. Red would likely disapprove. This shuttle had once been his. Just leave it on, he had often said. I know it’s noisy, but it does the job.
Farcia remembered the words and was close to reactivating the orb like machine. With a simple voice command, she could easily do it. Instead, she turned away and shut her eyes.
It had been a mistake to come here. To this place where Red had once lived. The craft was small, but it was enough for a pair of passengers. For short periods, it had been their home. That was all gone. Decades ago she had stolen the craft from Red and chosen to rejoin her kin. This ship had always served as a reminder of that. A reminder of him and what she had left.
Farcia saw him now, in her mind. I was wrong, she whispered.
She was a fool to have thought that Red would ever help her. She was the enemy, and now she had no one. Even so, Farcia couldn’t shake the attachment. The man once her husband was dead, but he still occupied her thoughts. For so long, she had been conflicted by this need to be with him. Part of Farcia wished that he were still alive. Another part secretly relished his death.
He was the last remnant. The last remnant of a past that no longer mattered.
She didn’t know who was really in control. Was it the Farcia of old? Some piece of her? Or was it just her memories, littered across the psyche?
The entity inside this body was lost. She remembered both her own past and that of another. This body, she thought. This crucible
Her actions were becoming questionable. Any clarity had become muddled. There was only one extreme and then another, whether it was utter despair and longing, or utter malice that sough
t to kill.
Farcia cupped her face. Her fingers pressed against the skin, squeezing the flesh. The pain persisted, and the thought of Red left her. The other memories then came back to her. It was the true memories. The memories of this Endervar.
The loss and the guilt gnawed at Farcia. In her mind was the end of her people. The true people. It then was end of everything. This served as another reminder and prompted her to rise.
I am the last.
Indeed, there was no one left. Not in this quadrant, or even at Alliance Command; her visit there had confirmed it. She was the sole leader of the Endervars. The last of her kind. She felt the loneliness; Farcia held the emptiness in her hand and let go.
But we will return, she said. I promise.
She then dropped out of the chair. She needed to leave and regain her focus.
***
The analysis of the stolen technology was complete. After almost a week of testing and research, the Enforcer had successfully reverse-engineered it.
The breakthrough meant the end of their presence here. The mother ship was still hiding within Alliance territory, but now the massive vessel was preparing to depart. It was time to devote all their energies to the true goal: soon they would reassemble the stolen Arcenian technology, but in a new form.
Farcia opened the door to her shuttle. She was intent on rejoining the Enforcer on the mother ship’s bridge, but as she exited the craft, she was alarmed to find a visitor. The figure was only inches away. He stood near the door, and his large hand was placed against the shuttle’s hull.
It was the same combat drone from before, or at least a model identical to it.
From the light of her own ship, Farcia could see all the details. The machine’s armor glistened with a sheen of silver and thistle. Around the neck and joints were tubes of liquid black. At this distance, the drone was a giant compared with her own frail body. But despite the weight, the plated metal and associated parts moved in silence.
What do you want? Farcia asked. She was annoyed. This meeting had happened unannounced.
The drone lifted his heavy hand from the shuttle. His large face tilted up and down, examining the craft.
This ship, the machine said, I like it.
What? she asked, confused.
I like it, he repeated. But I suppose there are other modes of travel.
The machine glanced at the sleeve on her arm, which was translucent and encased in a mesh of technocircuitry that hugged her skin.
May I borrow it? he asked.
What? I don’t understand
Your ship. I’d like to borrow it. And if you don’t mind, I’d also like you to come with me.
Farcia stepped back. This exchange wasn’t making any sense. The tone and questions were all off and out of character. This wasn’t the Enforcer, or at least not the one she knew. Who was in control of this drone?
Farcia became scared. She felt the sweat rise from her face.
Come, now. I have a friend who is eager to meet you, the drone went on.
A friend? she asked.
Yes. Her name is Arendi Soldanas.
The mechanical voice changed, shifting away from a robotic monotone to something more natural. Farcia heard the dulcet pitch. Her machine visitor laughed. She then glanced at the drone’s body. The chrome armor was thick but also alive. The drone was starting to contort and morph. She saw the silver skin over his body suddenly stir, like liquid.
She stepped back and began to run. Her instinct was to cloak away and jump through a portal. She nearly reached her sleeve. But it was too late. The drone had swiftly grabbed her by the arm.
The strength was beyond anything she possessed. It quickly pulled her in.
My apologies. But as we agreed, it’s time we rid ourselves of this place.
Farcia screamed as the machine imposter clutched her tight.
***
The Enforcer was losing control. The Unity’s mother ship was becoming unresponsive.
It had started as a strange delay. He had wanted to send the ship to another part of the galaxy, over fifty thousand light-years away.
Normally, it would have taken weeks, if not longer, to reach the destination through hyperspace. Even then, the mother ship and its mass was too large to cross effectively into the dimensional medium. So to close the gap, the vessel had relied on technologies not of this world. The spatial generator the mother ship’s primary engine had originally been sourced from the Endervars.
Twenty-one years ago, the Unity had built the device. It was later perfected by the Enforcer himself and refined for interstellar travel. With the engine, the craft could traverse near-impossible distances in an instant. Of course there was a cost. The alien energy behind the engine was immensely powerful, but it was running out.
It was about time to replace it. The Enforcer was ready to make the jump and begin working toward their ultimate goal. The mother ship, however, struggled to form the gateway. The engine itself was working, but the targeting computers were slow to respond. Then, for some reason, they stopped altogether. Sensor readings from the vessel had become a blur. To the Enforcer it was as though a limb had suddenly frozen. He flexed the appendage but felt nothing. Something was very wrong.
He performed the diagnostics, and he finally isolated the issue. The error was contained within the mother ship’s auxiliary systems and was confined to the scans and monitoring systems. He assumed he had full control, but the computers had been sending him fabricated data for over a day now. He was effectively blind.
There could only be one explanation. Someone had deliberately sabotaged the systems. In fact, the hack had been extensive. It had crept through his defenses, worming its way into the nonessential coding.
The Enforcer immediately thought of Farcia. She was the only one else on board. He sent his own combat drone to try to find her. His consciousness fed into the robotic soldier as it searched the premises, scanning for the woman and any sign of abnormality.
Eventually, the Enforcer discovered the true threat. It came from the connecting terminal. At the other end was Farcia’s shuttle. She was no longer there, however. Instead, the door to the craft slowly opened, and out stepped the saboteur. He was surprised to find it was another drone presumably one that was under his command.
It wasn’t. This opposing machine, for some reason, had gone rogue.
The Enforcer then heard the organic laugh. It chattered out through the hall, cackling in glee.
Alarmed, he faced the saboteur and saw a light suddenly beam down at the floor between them. A hologram materialized and took the form of a lifelike figure in this case, a blond-haired man. It projected in front of him. The Enforcer knew who this was. The man smirked.
So the Unity pulls the strings of another puppet, the Destroyer said. Another pathetic slave.
The blond-haired man walked the terminal floor, satisfied, knowing that he had intruded. He was more than glad to. The Destroyer’s hack had succeeded in penetrating the stronghold. The man’s presence had secretly burrowed itself into the Arcenian research in the moments before the attack on Vellanar.
You left yourself exposed, he explained, wagging his finger. Your prize it seems I beat you to it. I made sure to stow myself onboard and carefully creep where you weren’t looking.
The blond-haired man pointed back to Farcia’s shuttle, and to the rogue drone standing next to it. His hack had effectively infiltrated the machine’s systems. No longer was it within the Enforcer’s control. Secretly, the drone had been under the Destroyer’s command for hours now, all the while pretending to act as a mindless servant.
I snuck my way this far. And you didn’t even notice. How sad.
Hearing the man’s arrogance, the Enforcer snarled. He was not amused. The Enforcer’s drone lunged at full speed. His proxy, the robotic soldier, ran through the offending hologram, and to the target the rogue drone.
Blade collided with blade, as the
Enforcer struck while the Destroyer parried. The two machines clashed within the terminal, morphing their arms into cutting weapons. Sparks flew, with each slash hitting mechanized metal.
The Enforcer threw every ounce of energy into each blow, unleashing a fury of stabbing strikes. But his opponent was just as determined. The rogue drone spun and surprised the Enforcer with a hardened kick to his blade.
You still haven’t learned
The Enforcer wanted to retaliate, utilizing his full arsenal. But the Destroyer’s own drone combined both hands into one and temporarily bonded them into an even larger blade. It came crashing down, crushing the floor, and shaking the entire terminal. The Enforcer reluctantly fell back.
The Destroyer, shook his head, pleased by his rival and his tenacity. He powered down the hologram of the blond-haired man and let the rogue drone do the talking. Are you not afraid you’ll damage your precious ally? he asked.
The Enforcer stared, noticing it. His opposition came carrying a human shield.
It was Farcia. She was there, in the terminal, glancing back. Only that her body was hinged against the rogue drone’s chest plate and armor. The metal had absorbed her and inhaled her very being. She was now covered in chrome, save for her eyes and hair.
The Destroyer clenched her tight. Be careful, now. Another step, and I’ll be forced to kill her.
The Enforcer heard the muffled scream. The armor was squeezing the woman, keeping her captive. Clearly, the Destroyer delighted in the threat. He could easily have crushed Farcia and squeezed the life out of her.
The Enforcer, however, had other priorities.
She is expendable, he replied, cold to the sight.
He did away with bladed weapons. Charging his plasma cannon, the Enforcer’s own drone prepared to fire; the singular eye to the machine glowed in neon-blue. It smoked, about to blast at full maximum power. His target was not the Destroyer, however, but Farcia’s shuttle. He wanted to isolate his enemy and prevent his intended escape.
The Destroyer noticed the tactic, not surprised at all. In fact, he had prepared for this, and intended to strike first. With a single order, the Destroyer ignited explosions. The charges had been set hours ago and erupted from the underbelly of the mighty mother ship.