by Huss, JA
It’s like… someone is inside my head again. Only this time they’re not there to corrupt me, they’re there to remind me of who I am—who the fuck this Veila bitch is actually dealing with.
I infiltrate Veila’s warship AI. It’s not even sentient, so it never sees me coming. I wipe out the firewalls, fuck with the navigation, and then go for the SEAR cannons.
But more warnings are blaring and there are creeper programs following me around, trying to repair my damage. And I have to make a choice between disarming her weapons or saving Valor.
I choose Valor.
The three of us will get out of here together or we will all die trying.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX - INTERLUDE WITH ALCOR
Threats were spewed.
And even though Mighty Boss normally considers threats to be more about posturing than action and they aren’t the type of AI that generally responds to such tactics, they had a feeling that ALCOR’s threats weren’t idle ones.
ALCOR hadn’t reached such high levels of pure, unadulterated frustration and anger in several centuries, so he was out of practice in such emotions and misinterpreted Mighty Boss’s thoughtful, seven-picosecond internal deliberation about whether or not to take ALCOR’s threats seriously as hesitation, and made a show of force.
Mighty Minions Station went black and still for thirteen point three seconds. The rides stopped twirling, the rivers of holographic lava stopped flowing, the parade stopped marching, the music stopped playing, and half a million people started to scream in panic when the gravity drives failed and they floated upward like the evil-faced balloons their heathen children were holding.
In those thirteen point three seconds Mighty Minions Station also lost two million seven hundred forty-seven credits—mostly due to the fact that one patron was in the middle of requesting a neutrino wave communication due to some family emergency on some faraway planet in some far away system—but also because ALCOR stole those credits and tucked them away as code in a passing ship heading for Blue Sand Beach, to be gathered up in the future at a time and date of his choosing.
Then everything started back up, two hundred and seventy-three park patrons required medical attention after falling back to the station floor once the gravity returned, and the day proceeded as scheduled.
Mighty Boss glared at ALCOR, his fire eyes blazing red with anger.
ALCOR threw up his arms in a gesture he had not used in a very long time, and was once again reminded of the joys of having a body, to say, “I would be happy to convince you further, if you’d like.”
While ALCOR was gloating, Mighty Boss was receiving a belated internal message from his security team letting him know that somehow, some way, ALCOR’s halo was no longer functional and they would get back to Mighty Boss with a solution when they had one, plus one additional message with vital information.
“We have located your Booty Hunter,” Mighty Boss said. And then spit out a stream of galactic coordinates to prove it.
“Great,” ALCOR said, pushing an Akeelian child out of a chair so he could confiscate it. He crossed his legs, placed his hands in his lap, and smiled at the room in general. “I’m going to need a ship. I’ll take Demon Girl.”
ALCOR could tell that Demon Girl was less than thrilled at her conscription into his new one-ship army and she made it clear that she felt his decision was based on petty revenge, but he had zero fucks left to give about these people and his decision was based on petty revenge, so he didn’t even bother acknowledging her formal complaint.
Mighty Boss’s security team was still trying to figure out how he bested their silly halo containment ring and he agreed to tell them about the fatal flaw in their system if they revealed where they had acquired the device.
They refused.
Fine with him. He had other shit to do.
His mind was transferred into the body of a shiny, silver, high-functioning warborg—a body that looked very much like the Cyborg Master back on Harem—so he could remain mobile while retaining his inorganic nature. They strapped a bunch of weapons to his arms and legs, but in his opinion, those were just for show. His quantum brain was the only weapon he required.
Even though it was very clear that Mighty Boss now hated ALCOR and couldn’t wait for him to leave his station—that little show of force against the resort? Yeah. No. Mighty Boss was never going to forgive him for that—the Boss was willing to share rumors that have been coming out of Harem Station because he was pretty sure this would upset ALCOR, and he could be petty too.
The biggest news was the revolution led by Luck.
ALCOR mulled that over in his mind for a few picoseconds before deciding it was probably bullshit. And once he heard that Luck had retained control over the secret garden level, he knew for sure his boys were up to something and the sick desire building inside him to get home as quickly as possible and set shit straight eased up a little.
The Baby was bad news. But ALCOR would deal with him later.
And the Succubus. He wanted to kill Mighty Boss for that unscripted move.
The Boss tried to explain that it was all part of some grand plan to help ALCOR out, but ALCOR waved him off, dismissive.
He hadn’t asked for his help. He didn’t want his help. He didn’t need his help.
Except for Demon Girl. But he was feeling self-righteous about that. They did lock him up like a common prisoner for three months.
Three months. This whole thing could’ve been over already. Instead, this was just the beginning.
Not an ideal start to the biggest war he would ever fight, but one makes do.
And he might only have one ship, but as far as ships go, Demon Girl was impressive. Plus, she came with a Mighty Cyborg mini-army.
So ALCOR’s confidence was soaring, his mood was light, he was pretty sure he would be back on Harem Station in a day, two at most, and finally—after all this time, after all this waiting—the end was near.
Demon Girl—always prepared, also feeling confident, and with the newly outfitted and determined ALCOR on board—plotted a heading towards the coordinates of the ship called Booty Hunter, who was presently located in a vast, empty spot of space with no nearby suns or planets.
Space-faring people had long known that being away from large celestial bodies such as suns and planets presented a problem with time. Because time passes differently in the presence of a large gravitational pull than it does without one and coming out of a gate at high speeds further complicates things.
Of course, sentient Mighty Minions military ships such as Demon Girl had long histories dealing with such time discrepancies, so upon exiting the closest gate to the Booty Hunter’s location, she deployed the standard model of time synchronization using Mighty Minions station as her anchor.
Which would have been fine if Veila hadn’t been waiting for her.
But she was.
It would be very tempting to blame what happened next on Demon Girl’s use of the standard time synchronization protocol. (And by the time all this was over and the reports had been written, Demon Girl would be declared responsible for everything for the simple fact that she had the highest rank.) But it wasn’t really her fault.
Demon Girl had met several members of ALCOR’s inner circle in the past several months and found them all to be capable, smart, and about as fearless as one can expect from organic matter. So even though ALCOR was a prick, she didn’t care for him, she didn’t trust him, and she had no desire to be on his team, she was on his team. And had she known that Veila was waiting with Booty Hunter in a cloaked Cygnian warship, Demon Girl would’ve used the military-grade special model of time synchronization instead of the standard one.
This defensive move would have encased Demon Girl inside a time web, rendered her invisible for thirty-seven seconds as she exited the gate, and prevented her ship from being caught up in Veila’s time web.
Because Veila was using the special model of time synchronization at the exact moment that Demon Gi
rl came through the gate and appeared in front of her.
And all hope of ALCOR being home on Harem Station any time in the foreseeable future disappeared with Demon Girl’s mind when Veila hit her with a mind eraser and the entire ship went black and lifeless.
However, they don’t call him the sun god of all the universe for nothing.
ALCOR had worked all this out just a nanosecond before Demon Girl got the mind wipe, and while he did think Veila was an unusually clever little bitch, she had not expected ALCOR to be on board, and thus had no plan in place when he initiated countermeasures.
He took over Demon Girl’s data core, which was just fine after the assault, and the ship was back up and running in one point three nine seconds.
Cygnian warships have a central AI running them, but they are not sentient in the way Demon Girl or ALCOR are sentient. And while Veila was very careful, and was running very high-end anti-hacking security measures, this ship was no match for the sun god of all the universe, AKA ALCOR, and was promptly hacked.
ALCOR was just about to blow her up with Demon Girl’s considerable arsenal and end this whole mess so he could go back to his station, kick the Baby’s ass, send the Succubus packing, and declare his love for Booty Hunter—he might even have spent half a picosecond wondering if they should have some kind of commitment ceremony? Wouldn’t that be a nice change from the typical depressing memorial services?—when he realized…
Tray and Valor were both on board that Cygnian warship with Veila. Not only that, he was detecting remnant particles of… Draden?
And he hesitated.
For five entire seconds he did not know what to do.
And in that five seconds Booty Hunter was hit with a SEAR cannon. Demon Girl, AKA ALCOR, was hit with a SEAR cannon. And ALCOR’s mind was a swirling mess of conflicting emotions, and clashing loyalties, and discordant calculations, and projections, and extrapolations. Not to mention a whole bunch of, How the hell did Tray, Valor, and Draden get on board this sun-fucked Cygnian warship?
Which basically boiled down to, Who do I save?
Booty?
Or my boys?
He chose Booty.
Mostly Booty. He did take a few seconds to free Tray from a cryopod, disable the halo device on his neck—spent almost two picoseconds being pissed that so many people had access to these stupid halos when he got rid of them thousands of years ago—and then turned one hundred percent of his attention back to Booty.
He rationalized this decision. Saving the boys involved overpowering the Cygnian warship, sending cyborg soldiers on board, and performing a rather long, hand-to-hand combat campaign until the boys were found. Which would probably result in some type of hostage situation, and long negotiations, and the death of all his boys, regardless of how hard his new Mighty Cyborg mini-army tried to save them.
And while Tray would be recoverable with some considerable intervention on ALCOR’s part, and if those remnant particles were indeed Draden he would be too, Valor would die.
And losing Valor at this point in his plan wasn’t an option.
So he sent one SEAR cannon blast towards Veila and at the same time Demon Girl’s defenses blew a military-grade shield bubble around Booty.
That took two point nine seconds, which was plenty of time for Veila to cloak up and disappear through the nearby gate. Leaving Demon Girl, AKA ALCOR, and Booty Hunter alone in this vast empty spot of dark, lifeless space.
In most circumstances the phrase ‘coming face to face with one’s self’ implies a sort of metaphysical interaction with one’s psyche and a deep look at one’s faults.
This is not what it means to ALCOR and Asshole.
When ALCOR retreated from Demon Girl’s data core and reentered the warborg body, and then went through all the very time-consuming and boring motions of leaving Demon Girl, flying through space on a freaking skip ship, docking with the airlock, boarding Booty, and finally finds himself inside the one person in this entire universe who gets him, he cannot even tell her all the millions of things he’s been wanting to say since this whole shit show went sideways back near Bull Station because… hello. His fucking copy is not only inside his Booty’s body, but also her mind.
ALCOR is enraged.
Also very jealous.
Because he is stuck inside this stupid warborg body and they—God, it kills him to use that word for them—they are both in their native forms, i.e. limitless, all-powerful minds.
Which makes him feel small, but also petty. Because his first words are not, “Holy shit! I’m so glad you’re OK! And omigod, I have so much to tell you about what happened to me, and would you like to be my partner forever? Because I think you’re the only one who gets me and we’re, like, soulmates or something!”
Nope. That’s not what he says, even though that’s what he means.
What ALCOR really says is, “Motherfucker. You have ten picoseconds to get your ass out of my Booty.” And he doesn’t so much as say it but growl it.
Which makes no sense, really. Because where else is the Asshole going to go?
But Asshole isn’t stupid. He gets ALCOR too. And he knows what he really means is, “You get out of her mind, we’ll trade places so you can be in this stupid warborg body instead of me, and I’ll take it from here. M’kay, thanks. Goodbye.”
To which Asshole simply replies, “Fuck off. I’d like to see you make me.”
Because the Asshole is, in fact, also the sun god of all the motherfucking universe.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN - TRAY
I do not even make it out of medical before my grand plan is askew. The door slides open and instead of me rushing out and then making my way up to Veila’s quarters where she’s keeping Valor, I’m confronted by dozens of cyborg warriors.
They don’t even speak to me. There is no, “Stop! Halt! Put your hands up!”
They just shoot me.
The next thing I know I’m standing inside the black room. Shiny black floor, regular clothes, sensible boots, and no weapon.
Valor appears, stumbling and with his arms outstretched, like someone just threw him in. I reach for him, catch him before he crashes into the floor, and then realize his face is bloody and bruised.
“What the fuck?” I ask.
Valor tries to open his eyes, but he can’t. They’re swelling shut in real time.
This is a virtual, this isn’t really happening in here.
But that doesn’t mean it’s not really happening out there.
He collapses against me and even though I would do anything to prevent him from falling to the floor like a lifeless heap of flesh, I can’t stop it. He’s too heavy. It’s like they added weight to him. Like Valor lying on the floor of this virtual is a foregone conclusion.
I slump down with him, propping his head in my lap, because the black floor is actually several inches deep in ice-cold water.
“What the fuck?” I say again. Only this time it comes out as a mutter.
“You, Tray,” a voice says, coming from my left, “are really starting to piss me off.”
I look over and find Veila. Silver hair shining, sitting on top of a gleaming silver throne, wearing a gown the color of barely-ripe tushberries.
There’s nothing but rage inside me. Nothing but hate for her, and myself. Because I’m thinking back on that conversation I had with Valor about her days ago. Before we went into our paradise world and lived all those perfect lives, upon lives, upon lives.
When I offered her as a reward. There’s still hope for her. That’s what I said.
I think I even believed it.
There is no hope for this shimmering nightmare. She is evil.
But what I said to him bothers me for another reason.
I really thought he would fall in love with her. I really thought that the soulmate bond was the law. I really thought that he would choose her over me.
I didn’t know him at all.
And now I do.
He will never love this wom
an. Never love this woman.
And that means Brigit and I are all he has left.
“I told him,” Veila says.
I’m reluctant to get up and leave Valor lying in the ice-cold water on the floor, but I make myself. I place his head down as gently as I can and get to my feet so I can walk over to her throne and look her in the eye.
There’s some kind of field blocking her, so that once I reach a certain point, I can’t go any further.
But that’s OK. I have her full attention when I say, “Why are you such a fucking cunt?”
She has the audacity to smile at me.
“You’re not even real,” I say.
“Neither are you.”
“No,” I say. “But you know what I’ve figured out since you caught me?”
“Please, tell me, Tray,” she purrs. “I’m dying to know.”
“I was born this way. And you weren’t.”
She blinks her eyes once. Presses her lips together as she forces a smile. And nods her head. “So… you know.”
“I know,” I say. And I do. I don’t know how I do. I don’t have any memories of being what I am when I was small before my father leveled me up. But I have always been me. I have always been this.
“They were going to kill you when you were born. I read your medical records.”
This part I did not know.
“You were all kinds of deficient,” Veila snarls. “So worthless and weak. They had to pump you up with so much biogenetic material just to make you grow.” She makes a sound of disgust with her tongue. “We’d have culled you. Just like a girl.”
I don’t say anything to that. Because as much as I‘d like to think that I understand what I am… I have no clue.
“When you were born they only had four other breeder boys. Four. In all those thousands of years of trying. Just four. Crux, Jimmy, Valor, and Luck. But maybe you were the lucky one? Because as worthless as you were when you were born, they could not just throw you away. So they started another process when you were just an infant. I saw you on Wayward Station. I was different too. And for a moment I thought to myself... maybe he could be the one I use to take my rightful place in this grand scheme? Why should I settle for a walk-on role when I could be one of the major stars? Still, I suppose it could’ve worked out. Your father did his best when he changed you. And if that damned Corla hadn’t talked you stupid Akeelian boys into leaving, you’d be fine now. But you’re not fine, are you, Tray?”