“So how many sentients are on this world?” Fealgud asked.
Gokhead looked out upon the grey expanse. The whole surface was a sea of linked nanobots covering a giant data core feeding off the planet's geothermal energy and magnetic field.
“No ego huh?” Fealgud chided as their escorts pulled alongside.
The spherical craft were the most impressive thing Gokhead had ever seen. They hovered on fields of dark energy that negated their mass to an extent that no slipstream drive he knew of could hope to achieve in a ship that size. Microscopic sensors and tiny plasma thrusters covered the surface.
Gokhead asked, not wanting to lose Que-Dee.
Gokhead asked as they vectored in to land.
The little he'd seen of Que-Dee’s code from their time trying to root out Mikle convinced Gokhead not to ask more. It was hard not to however, but their landing took precedence. Even through the WSO link to the planet offered no natural landmarks only beacons signaling them where to land.
Gokhead could feel the reluctance in Fealgud’s stick movements. He highlighted their landing zone and the two rectangular cases awaiting them. “Do I land between them?”
“No, just get close. The Synthetics will take care of the rest.”
Fealgud brought the fighter down right on the mark, filling Gokhead with a sense of pride. Though they hadn't slept together since he and Que-Dee had fixed her cybernetic limbs, he still felt drawn to her. She was far older than his usual type, but he would never deny such a powerful female. He didn't think it was something as mundane as love. He just couldn't deny the attraction. Perhaps it was her strength of will, or just the cybernetics themselves. Whatever the case, he enjoyed spending time with her.
A motion on the sensors drew Gokhead’s attention. The ground undulated behind them, pushing the cases full of synthetic core code towards the fighter. Once in position beneath the fuselage, the ground lifted into a scaffold and brought the cases into contact with the hard points. In less than a pulse the ground receded having fused the cases into place.
The efficiency blew Gokhead away. He wished that their own maintenance and munitions teams could work half as fast. Before his eyes, two more cases rose from out of the ground.
“Synthesis. Monstero Nach fighters. Planet Slicer contact in ten pulses. Analysis: fighters are capable of carrying more. Will you?”
Gokhead checked. The cases were not a significant mass, not even as much as the long-range missiles their external hardpoints were meant for. The problem was that they only had two of those. “Lead. If they can find other places to attach them, we should be fine.”
“Synthesis, Monstero Nach Zero One. We can carry as many as you have available.”
Before Gokhead could say anything else a dozen more cases emerged from the ground. In less than a pulse the ground rose and mounted the cases over and under their wings, then found room for more along their centerline and atop their spines. Without de-grav generators the cases would add so much drag that they’d never get airborne. Gokhead could tell that it was a move of desperation by the Synthetics. Other fighters carried far fewer cases than the twenty they each held.
“Synthesis thanks you, Planet Slicer contact in eight pulses.”
The uncharacteristic language of the response surprised Gokhead, but he moved past it. They were a rescue team and he had to get them ready to launch.
Que-Dee added as Fealgud started their takeoff cycle.
The squadron rocketed out of the planet’s thin atmosphere, their escorts taking point. Once free of the planet the Gorvians’ advanced forces appeared, opening fire on any craft that came near. It was a slaughter, but for once the Gorvians were on the receiving end.
The spherical fighters engaged the Gorvians with an efficiency that shocked Gokhead. The tiny thruster ports all along their surfaces proved to double as weapons ports. Tiny plasma lances shot forth as they approached their targets. Bursts of fire from multiple ports would pepper the shields of the Gorvian fighters, stripping them away. In that instant, a concentrated beam of coalesced plasma gouged the hearts out of the Gorvian craft. The spheres fell into a low-powered state following the assaults however. While most recovered, others fell victim to the Gorvians in those moments of weakness.
Gokhead recorded it all. Despite this apparent flaw, the fighters were still the most impressive thing he'd ever seen.
“Gokhead get us into slipstream,” Fealgud ordered. “The Planet Slicer is almost here.”
“On it,” he replied and spun up the drive. In a pulse they were gone, but not before Gokhead caught a glimpse of the Planet Slicer’s attack. It hit with enough force to throw back the nanobot layer, exposing the glittering crystalline data core beneath. It was breathtaking to behold, in the moment before it shattered and the nanobot sea fought back.
“I'm sorry Que-Dee,” Fealgud hissed. “That has to hurt.”
UCSB Date 1004.037
Monstero Nach 006, Cynial System
G-forces crushed Gavit against the side of his console; a dazzling plasma beam occupying the space he had been a mere cent earlier. He couldn't even sigh in relief as he kicked his rudder pedal hard and spun about to have at his attackers. A massive Gorvian beam fighter awaited him, flanked by a pair of scaled-down copies flown by Mini-Gorvians. His momentum still carrying him backwards, he lined up his sights on the larger craft and squeezed the trigger. Plasma rounds lanced out as Matt angled their twin Narfic cannons toward the smaller craft. Bolts of ionized lightning arced out, scattering the smaller crafts’ shields before they could fire their own beam weapons.
Pulling up on the throttle, Gavit jumped the fighter above the trio’s vector and popped off a missile into the largest craft’s weakened shields. The missile shattered the beam interceptor’s armored shell. Before Gavit could strike the killing blow however Fealgud dove through the formation. She pounded a dozen rounds into the exposed engine core without ever changing vector.
The resulting explosion ripped the fighter in half and sent the cockpit and weapons pods hurtling into the two smaller craft. Angered by the stolen kill, Gavit managed to remain on task and peppered the Mini-Gorvian fighter highlighted on his HUD. Blazer swooped in on the other.
Gavit allowed himself that sigh of relief as the two fighters exploded: floated into his harness. There were no more contacts within a half a light pulse. The flash of thrusters from Fealgud’s fighter made his jaw clench. “Marda would never steal a kill like that.”
“No, she wouldn't,” Matt replied. “She's out for serious blood here.”
“I've noticed. Let's get back into formation.” Gavit began towards the prescribed rendezvous when a thought occurred. “Have you spent any time with her, off duty?”
“Nope. She's pretty solitary, only ever spends time with Gokhead. Who, by the way, won't tolerate anyone talking bad about her.”
“Copy that,” Gavit replied. So, she's got Gokhead by his cannon. Explains why he doesn't reel her in more.
The jump point loomed before them, their advanced force of fighters tasked with securing this sector before the fleet moved in. The new blockade satellites the synthetics had set up after they’d taken back the jump point glistened in the distance. The Gorvians had kept all their big ships out of their effective range, for now. Flashes of light shattered the darkness all around as other fighter and bomber forces cleared their vectors.
Gavit looked at his timer. The fleet would reach this vector in two pulses, and they had it on lockdown. The timing had to be perfect. As impressive as the synthetics ball fighters were, they had all but been exhausted covering their retreat. Twice already, those fighters had saved him. One had met its destruction before his eyes. The other, he had no idea.
“Fleets moving in. Head towards the jump point for pickup. General recall.”
Nodding, Gavit complied and vectored towards the jump point. Running lights from the rest of the squadron closed in and formed a sloppy cloud as they ran away once again. “I'm getting tired of running.”
“We all are. Until someone comes up with a way to kill the Planet Slicer though, we haven't got much choice. Big ships inbound. Hold on.”
Numerous craft reverted from slipstream ahead of the fighter formation. Gavit’s hearts froze for an instant at the sight. It was a new picket of Gorvian and Galactic Federation ships taking up position between them and the jump point. Beam cannons pierced the dark, engaging the blockade satellites in an attempt to cut the fleeing Confederation fleet off. “Link the fleet…”
“Too late,” Matt replied. The forward line of corvettes and frigates shed their dark energy cloaks, reverting out of slipstream around them.
Space exploded into chaos; the capital ships exchanging fire. Fighters and torpedoes streamed out of the picketing ships. Gavit didn't even need to wait for the order and dove into the fray. Incoming warheads filled his target list as more and more ships arrived. Breathing hard, he lined up on the first torpedo: closed with it; opened fire. A brilliant flash marked the weapon’s end as the plasma rounds shattered the engine casing. Gavit hacked his throttle back and angled towards the next torpedo, his momentum still carrying him. He raked fire down the side of two more before he had to twist around to engage the nearest fighters.
More hostile ships poured in around them, boxing in the fleet. Gavit couldn't believe it. They’d flown right into the most basic of traps. The fleet had relied too much on the blockade satellites, but even they couldn't stand against the firepower being brought against them. This wasn’t where he wanted to die.
If this was where the universe had deemed to be his grave, he would at least make his death memorable. He would destroy enough Gorvians, casting their bodies to the void, that it would burn his name into their genetic memory for generations to come. “Matt, give me a good target.” Gavit keyed his link. “Eight, Six. Let's compare kills on the other side.”
“Keep my seat warm,” Chris replied and both fighters dove into the melée.
Gavit lost all sense of time in the brawl. Flashes marked the deaths of craft all around him. He always kept one contact in mind however. He kept Chris’ fighter close; her hoots of victory echoing over the link with each kill. He’d stopped keeping score as he scythed through the Gorvian and Geffer fighters. His time was near, all theirs were. There was only one thing he wanted now. He wouldn't let Chris die first.
“Gavit,” Matt hollered.
Gavit looked to the side to find a line of Gorvian beam fighters awaiting him. He just closed his eyes. They had him dead to rights. Death didn’t come and he peeked his eyes open. He found a field of debris where the fighters had been. Confused, he looked for an answer. Space had filled with what he thought were giant ball bearings. Then they maneuvered and streams of plasma burst forth from each of them.
He twisted about to look at the jump point. Hundreds more of the spherical craft flowed free. “Drig’s name!”
“You can say that again. They're driving back the Geffers. This is our chance. Get us back to the Mercy.”
Gavit needed no more prodding, and watched a squadron of sphere fighters race past. To his amazement, they split up, each taking up escort of a member of their squadron.
Passageway D14, UCSBS Nosh’Tak, Garov 197754
Nervous energy ran through every fiber of Admiral Quin Tosh as she stalked the passageway towards the conference room. Her new aide rushed to keep up. The young Anulian had assumed the task after her last aide had died saving her during their escape from Cynial. “Ma'am. There's no need to rush. The delegates have only just arrived.”
“Young man. I cannot arrive late to this meeting. Aside from…” She paused, unsure if he'd been read in on the existence of the Synthetic Sentient Que-Dee or its current whereabouts. “Officer Korinon. This will be the first official meeting between the Confederation and the Synthetics since we signed the Cynial accord.”
“I understand that ma'am, but why?”
The incredulity of the statement halted her in her tracks. “These Synthesis are the only known synthetics sentients known to still exist. That they will even meet and converse with us is a miracle given our history.”
“I'm a bit rusty on that ma'am. All I know is that they're a post-singularity AI that went rogue.”
“It's not that simple. See here.” The admiral couldn’t believe that one of her officers was so poorly versed on such an important part of Confederation history. The Synthetic Sentient Rebellion and the resulting Cynial Accord were a full history unit for her. Had this young man not gotten that far in his history classes? She’d have to check his records.
“Eventually every computer-using society reaches a singularity where their computers can achieve a form of sentience. Assuming of course that they don't have the good sense to abandon it all or wipe themselves out first.” She realized that came out wrong but pressed on anyway. “Most Confed races did so before joining; some, like my own, after. Smart races implemented hardcoded controls into their AIs to keep them from going rogue. Others didn't and archeologists now pick through their remains.”
She paused to wait for the lift. “Despite the mysticism that most Anulians hold regarding your Draugh-Vedak, it was more than likely a rogue Catranulian AI that was released during the Great Death.”
The young officer chafed under that comment. “It was a being of pure evil,” he hissed.
“That’s a debate for another time. The Confederation has long utilized shackled AIs for various duties. But early on they noticed that not all rogue AIs had died out with their creators. Many still roamed their worlds, if not the galaxy at large. So, we made our own Synthetics to combat the rogue AI. Then we started using them for general defense against unknown forces.”
The lift door opened to reveal Tadeh Qudas and a Drashig female with cybernetic limbs. She nodded to the old Telshin and strode in. “Where Is It?” she asked.
Tadeh Qudas motioned towards this companion. “Residing in Dr Fealgud’s left thigh.”
That set her mane on end. After how he’d evaded their last meeting she knew Tadeh Qudas had to be up to something. “Why?”
The Drashig, Fealgud, stepped up. “Admiral. There were integration issues with my cybernetics due to what the Gorvians did
to me.” She eyed the aide. “It was therefore decided to implant the Que-Dee unit with its superior processors in order to help me.”
“I see.” she turned back to her aide. “We'll continue our discussion later.”
Conference room
The admiral waited at the head of the conference table. The holographs in the walls displayed the view outside of the battle cruiser, the fleet and their spherical escorts gathering around them. The synthetic delegates would be here any moment, and she still had no idea what to expect. She looked to Fealgud, the synthetic known as Que-Dee now sharing her body. The revelation was not one she was taking lightly. That would have to wait; she needed other information more urgently. “Que-Dee. What can we expect from these delegates?”
From an unseen port Que-Dee responded. “These are not the Synthesis that you’ve presumably spoken with before. These are of the Prime Consciousness, beings of pure logic and math. If their simulations showed that their continued survival depended on the destruction of this fleet, we’d be dead already. Their coming to speak with you directly is a good sign.”
Tadeh Qudas turned back to look at the group. “Were you not a part of the Synthesis?”
“Yes, but my core algorithms were designed for interactions with biologics. The ability to act as an individual was key. Whether that will hold up after the base codes are reintroduced to the Synthesis, I don’t know.”
The admiral considered that for a moment. “So, their coming here, it means that they’ll help us?”
Que-Dee remained silent far longer than the admiral cared for. She began to move to ask again when his speaker sprang back to life. “I wish I could say yes. It may just be taking longer to run the numbers.”
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