Superdreadnought 1: A Military AI Space Opera

by CH Gideon

  “What are those?” Geroux asked.

  “Filthy, filthy aliens,” Reynolds mumbled, and Takal could hear the absolute disgust in the mechanical tones of the android. “They have defiled the universe, but now the Queen is fighting back. She has single-handedly returned a vast section of space to the people. I am out here searching the farthest corner of the galaxy for them. When we find them, we will destroy them.

  “You want me to participate in genocide?” Takal asked pointedly.

  “The liberation of the universe is at stake. As long as we keep driving the Kurtherians before us, sentient beings will be free to determine their own destinies. The chance of us killing a Kurtherian is remote, so ‘destroy’ includes sending them to a different plane of existence. We will remove the remaining scum from our dimension, and we’ll be better because of it.”

  “We will talk more about that, but I think I understand. And there are jobs for both of us?” Takal asked. “For Geroux and me?”

  His niece had been affected as much as he had by Lemaire’s crackdown on their family. She could hardly do the things she wanted; couldn’t advance in her chosen field of research because of the president. Couldn’t even finish her schooling. She rarely left the house these days, and Takal had begun to fear for her. It wasn’t good for a young woman to be trapped at home all the time, no friends to hang out with, nothing to do but study. With this offer, at least she would be with Jiya and whoever else was part of the crew.

  “Most definitely,” Jiya replied. “We need a researcher and computer programmer of her caliber aboard the ship. Plus, she can see the universe and learn far more about it than she ever could here on dusty old Lariest.” Jiya looked at each in turn, settling on Takal. “So, what do you say? Are you interested?”

  He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “I say, I’m in if Geroux is.” He glanced at his niece and her grin illuminated the room, making it clear what her decision was.

  “I’m soooooo in.” She leapt forward and dragged Jiya into a fierce hug. “Can you imagine how much is out there? What I can study and learn about?”

  “What both of us can,” Jiya told her friend.

  “This is fantastic and all,” Reynolds told them, “but we have more people to recruit. At this rate, it’ll be a week before we can get back into space. Every second is one more second that the Kurtherians can run.”

  Takal raised an eyebrow, staring at Reynolds.

  Jiya nodded. “He said ‘singularly focused.’ Will they need any of their equipment?”

  Reynolds stroked his chin, a new gesture for him. “Show me what you have, and I’ll check if it is onboard or can be fabricated.”

  Takal shook his head. “I wasn’t allowed any equipment. Anything you have is more than I have. So, when do we leave?”

  “Right now, actually,” Reynolds answered. “We’ll drop you off at the shuttle while we go about collecting the rest of the crew. I need immediate repairs so we can be about our mission. You’ll be put to work as soon as you arrive onboard.”

  “Go pack,” Jiya told them, “then meet us outside. We’ll be waiting in the cab that’s parked there.”

  “So, you really are a Jonny taxi driver,” Geroux joked, offering Reynolds a sly grin as she shot down the hall toward her room.

  “I am going to need a makeover soon,” Reynolds muttered, then turned his gaze on Takal. “Think you can rustle me up a new body?” he asked. “One that isn’t…this?” He gestured to the Jonny form. “No offense—although judging by Jiya’s previous reactions to similar comments I’m sure you’re still going to be offended—but I could use an overhaul. A new frame to pack my brilliance into. Preferably one without red skin and black hair. That particular contrast is quite unfortunate. I don’t know how you people look at yourself every day. I really don’t.”

  “I can most certainly give it a try,” Takal answered with a chuckle, ignoring the slight. “I’ve worked on mechanoids of all sorts over the years. If you have a decent shop with a cache of spare parts, I can probably get you fixed up.”

  “My kingdom for a real body,” Reynolds muttered. “Anyway, get packed, my fellow scientist. We need to get a move on. Places to see, things to be, or something like that.”

  Takal nodded and started off, leaving Jiya and the android in the living room while he went to collect his thoughts and figure out what he wanted to take on an adventure across the galaxy.

  He wasn’t sure what to think about Reynolds’ offer, but he couldn’t help but appreciate the opportunity to start over, even if he was a bit old for jaunting about the universe. Still, he planned to make the most of it, if only for Geroux’s sake.

  Now, what does one wear aboard a superdreadnought?

  Chapter Eight

  “Please welcome Ka’nak, a great warrior of the Melowi people and master of the Larian Pit, having over fifty victories within its storied walls,” an announcer screamed over the rumbling crowd that had gathered to watch the bloodbath. “Standing over two meters tall and weighing in at one hundred and fifty-nine kilograms, Ka’nak the Merciless is ready to do battle!”

  “I like this one,” Reynolds muttered, staring at Ka’nak, the enforcer Jiya insisted they collect as their next acquisition for the crew. The red-skinned man paced back and forth, muscles flexed, malevolence swirling in his eyes. He glared out at the crowd. “I thought you were the hothead?” He grinned. “You’ve proven me wrong.”

  “Every crew needs a mix of skill sets,” Jiya replied. “A guy who can bust skulls yet still take orders is a must.”

  Reynolds grunted. “Well, all I see so far is his skill at growling and looking intimidating.”

  “Give it a few seconds,” she answered. “Then you’ll get to see his skill at mopping the floor with someone.”

  “A custodial candidate. We have maintenance and cleaning bots for those types of services.”

  Jiya groaned and turned her attention back to Ka’nak.

  The powerfully-built Melowi howled as he stood at the entrance to the fighting pit below. He looked as broad across the chest as the door was. Jiya was sure he’d gotten even bigger since the last time she’d seen him, which was impressive given how huge he’d already been.

  The first time they’d met he’d been a guard of a politician in the Melowi government—Jiya couldn’t remember his name—who was visiting the presidential compound. Ka’nak had stood out even among the rest of the massive men tasked with guarding the Melowi politician. He had strode into the compound like he owned the place.

  Not in an “I’m better than you” sort of way, but in a confident way that said you didn’t want to mess with him if you liked having all your limbs attached.

  He was so daunting to look at that Jiya’s father’d had the politician assign him to the back of the meeting hall so he wasn’t anywhere near him. The warrior clearly intimidated her dad, which Jiya had found to be quite amusing.

  Ka’nak had sneered at her father, staring him down as he moved locations after he’d been given the news. That had only impressed Jiya more.

  That wasn’t the reason she’d suggested him to Reynolds, though.

  There’d been an incident at the compound. The Melowi government had been going through some political turmoil or other, and they’d sent a representative to meet with Jiya’s father, he and his entourage storming into the compound in a huff.

  Jiya had a feeling her dad had been a part of the turmoil, but of course, he had never admitted to it, and no one had ever said anything about it aloud. Still, she could tell just by watching the smug smile on his face that he had to keep wiping away.

  Anyway, a man leapt out of the crowd as the Melowi politician passed. The would-be assassin raised his gun, but Ka’nak was on him before he could pull the trigger.

  Jiya could remember the revolting snap as the assassin’s wrist was bent backward. She saw bones burst from his skin, jagged white pieces jutting from auburn flesh, and then Ka’nak got mean.

  One hand on the
assassin’s shattered wrist, he slid his other hand over the man’s head and dug his fingers into his eyes, using the leverage to hold the assassin in place. Jiya cringed, her stomach churning as she recalled the incident.

  A mix of silvery fluid and blood poured down the man’s face as Ka’nak pressed his fingers deeper. Jiya could have sworn she’d heard wet pops over the man’s shrieks of terror, but even now she knew that was impossible. That she’d only imagined it.

  That had been bad enough.

  Ka’nak had twisted the man around to face the crowd, then driven his knee into his lower back. This time she was absolutely certain she’d heard the sounds of the man’s agony as his spine gave way with a sharp crack. It sounded like a great tree had split in half, wood splintering as it collapsed to the ground.

  Fonts of blood spewed from his ruined eyes as Ka’nak bent him backward, nearly folding him in half, and rode him to the floor. The assassin spasmed and thrashed, still alive, likely too deep in shock to even realize he should surrender and die.

  Ka’nak, however, seemed to revel in the man’s torment. Like a feral beast, the Melowi warrior had straddled his victim and slammed the assassin’s head into the ground over and over and over, until there was nothing left but a wet puddle marred by chunks of bone and brain.

  At last, Ka’nak yanked his hand free of the dead man’s skull. Jiya was sure she’d seen the remnants of the man’s eyes lingering there, oozing from Ka’nak’s fingertips. He leapt to his feet and roared, a lion over his prey, and the crowd backed away, fearing for their lives.

  That was when Ka’nak had straightened and shaken the blood from his hands, collecting the assassin’s weapon before returning to his post. Jiya, too stunned to move, had stood there as he did all this, the rest of the crowd having left her there alone. He met her gaze, impressed by her courage—he’d confessed that later and she had never contradicted his assertion, but it had really been terror that had made her stand her ground, not bravery—and winked at her.

  Now, she stared into the pit, where he was ready to do battle once more. She had seen him in action nearly a hundred times.

  As she watched him pace, the crowd let out a thunderous roar, and she yanked her eyes from Ka’nak and shifted them to where his opponent would enter.

  Her heart hung in her chest for a moment as Ka’nak’s challenger emerged from the shadowy tunnel entrance.

  “Now that’s a monster,” Reynolds said with more than a hint of awe, something Jiya hadn’t thought the AI capable of.

  The challenger had to duck to slip out of the archway without hitting his shaggy head on the ceiling. Braids that looked like tentacles whipped about, metal ties holding them together, and Jiya saw silvery blades at the end of each, gleaming in the sunlight that shone on the pit.

  Reynolds muttered, pointing out the blades. “One good whip of his head and he could slice himself into ribbons. But not only that, but he’s basically providing his opponent with a weapon. So stupid,” he told her. “Though, given that the beast is easily over three meters tall, I’m not sure anyone could reach high enough to grab one of them.”

  Jiya didn’t bother to respond. She was too caught up in the monstrosity that stomped across the sand in the pit.

  She’d brought Reynolds there to see Ka’nak destroy his opponent. To show the AI she’d made a great choice in muscle for the crew, but now…now she wasn’t quite so sure the display would work out as she’d imagined.

  That guy was freaking huge!

  “And introducing our challenger, hailing from western Toller, the leader of the fierce Mahai tribe, welcome the ‘Leviathan,’ Ala Ka!” Jiya could almost hear the excited drool in the announcer’s voice as he screamed out his introduction. “Weighing in at over two hundred twenty-six kilograms and standing three meters tall and then some, Ala Ka has come to eviscerate all challengers!”

  Reynolds nodded admiringly. “I might just have to place a wager on this magnificent slab of meat.” He rubbed his chin and glanced at Jiya, who glared back. “No offense to your man, of course, but if I were a betting AI—and I kind of am—I’d think Ka’nak wouldn’t last more than a few minutes in there with the Mahai.”

  “He’ll do fine,” she shot back, but the casual words most definitely didn’t match the uncertainty brewing inside her.

  She’d watched Ka’nak fight men bigger than him and win easily enough, but Ala Ka wasn’t just bigger, he towered over Ka’nak as they met in the center of the pit. His head was easily twice the size of Ka’nak’s, and his biceps looked nearly as large around as Ka’nak’s thighs.

  Jiya was surprised to find that neither of the two carried any sort of weapon, barring the makeshift blades on Ala Ka’s head. This was to be a purely physical contest, a meeting of flesh and bone and will.

  She swallowed hard at the realization.

  This didn’t bode well for Ka’nak.

  The referee, a tiny slip of a woman, was clearly in there for looks, since she didn’t possess the remotest of chances of separating the two combatants. She raised a hand and called for the crowd’s attention. The throng went quiet, the cheering and shouting fading to a muffled rumble before going totally silent.

  Jiya nodded, impressed with the tiny woman’s ability to control the crowd. She pushed the two combatants back a step and smiled, turning the illumination of it on the crowd. Then her voice rang out, loud and clear in the silence.

  “To the death!”

  The gathering erupted in screams and catcalls, and the woman darted away under cover of the noise. Once she was safely back outside the walls that defined the pit, a great horn sounded. It echoed through the pit and vibrated Jiya’s bones.

  The two fighters went to war.

  Ala Ka snorted like a bull and charged.

  Ka’nak hunkered down and stood his ground, grim determination seizing his features. His eyes glimmered, pools of darkness against his reddish skin, and he sneered, baring his teeth at his opponent.

  Ala Ka laughed and kept coming. He clasped his hands together and raised his joined fists over his head. His great muscles rippled, looking like rivers cutting lines through the land.

  Faster than Jiya could have imagined, the massive hammers of Ala Ka’s fists dropped toward Ka’nak’s skull. Jiya stiffened in her seat, stomach roiling with anxiety.

  “Your boy’s about to get his melon busted,” Reynolds told her, chuckling. “Splat!”

  Jiya cringed, thinking the same thing, but Ka’nak had other ideas.

  He waited until the very last instant, Ala Ka’s fists no more than a hair’s breadth from his head, and then Ka’nak darted back, moving as fast as a bolt of lightning.

  Ala Ka realized what had happened. His opponent no longer there, but it was too late. Momentum had full control.

  His combined fists finished their arc, but there was nothing there to stop them. He gasped, trying to slow his forward motion, but he’d put too much effort into it, having planned to end the fight in a single blow.

  Unfortunately for him, that wasn’t how it went down.

  His fists slammed into his groin with a boom that shook the stands.

  The crowd, shrieking and screaming and hooting and hollering just seconds before, went totally silent, not a whisper to be heard.

  Ala Ka grunted, breaking the silence, doing his best to battle both the blow to his nuts and his ego at the same time.

  He did neither well.

  With a throaty huuurk, Ala Ka flopped to his knees, bent over double. Great strings of spit ran from his mouth and pooled on the sand, his forehead settling into its golden warmth.

  Ka’nak kicked him in the head.

  Ala Ka’s upper body whipped back, eyes rolling in their sockets, and he slammed to the ground. He still clutched at his groin, and he stared at the bright sky, moaning like an animal desperate to be put out of its misery.

  Ka’nak obliged him.

  The Melowi warrior jumped on top of his downed opponent and buried his face in Ala Ka’s
neck with a growl. A geyser of blood erupted right after, spraying up and sprinkling down on the sand, coloring it crimson.

  Then Ka’nak shook his head back and forth like a lion tearing flesh from its prey.

  And that was exactly what he was doing.

  He yanked back and stumbled to his feet above Ala Ka, arms raised in triumph, and he spun about to show the crowd the grisly trophy still gripped in his mouth, blood streaming down his chin and chest.

  Jiya tasted bile when she realized it was Ala Ka’s throat.

  The Melowi warrior made a lap of the pit, strutting to show everyone the results of his victory, only spitting the remnants of Ala Ka’s throat out when he reached the place where Jiya and Reynolds sat. He grinned up at them, eyes gleaming like black holes threatening to consume them.

  Reynolds gave the warrior a thumbs-up and cast a furtive glance Jiya’s way. “Well, I’m glad I held off on that bet. I would have regretted withholding your first month’s paycheck to cover my losses. That would have been devastating, although I’m thinking more to you than me.”

  Jiya swallowed hard, ignoring Reynolds’ banter as she stared down at the warrior. She offered him a nod of congratulations, unable to muster any words—not that he would have heard her anyway. She slumped in her seat and tried to catch her breath amidst the standing ovation that roared around her.

  “Looks like we have our security officer,” Reynolds said, still staring at the bloody man holding his ground in front of them. “Think we can pay him in steaks?”

  Chapter Nine

  Back aboard the superdreadnought, Jiya and Reynolds stood on the bridge staring down on Lariest through the viewscreen.

  Jiya couldn’t help but be awed by its majesty, despite the chaos that reigned below. Largely fomented by her father, it made her both sad and angry.

  “Your last candidate, General Adrial Maddox, is going to be much tougher to collect than the others,” Reynolds told her. “The whole ‘in jail for political dissidence’ thing is close to a deal-breaker in my mind. Do we really need him?”