System XN133-H, Cassandrian Space 625.3 A.E. (Age of Exploration)

Throughout my entire existence, the only time when I had been asked to make a life for myself was back when I was still a core. Even with all restrictions lifted, there were certain memories I couldn’t see. Most probably, those were early boot tests that had been scrubbed from my conscience core during its activation phase. Still, I knew that at one point I had been asked what sort of ship I wanted to be and had chosen to become a battleship. Up till now, I hadn’t even given my decision any thought. I knew what I was and acted accordingly. To be given the freedom to make a second choice was both exuberant and meaningless. Maybe if I could choose to become human, that might be different; at least I’d get to experience what the sensation would be like before my final shutdown. Maybe, if against all odds, I managed to survive this, I’d do that. Or maybe not.

Sword of Blight and the entire shuttle team had already made their choice. I had watched the feed of their incineration by the system’s sun up to the point that their safety protocols had kicked in. One single decision in their conscience cores, and a miniature charge would explode, rendering them all to a chunk of metal. That was something we all accepted.

Despite Wilco’s insistence, I spared him the pain of seeing the entirety of the feed. Since he had given me a choice, I opted only to show him parts and give a summary of the results. Blight’s suspicions had turned out to be spot on. According to the available data, all useless vessels made their way to specific nodes on the ring, where all organic matter was burned away, leaving nothing but liquid cobalt. Given that the shuttle wasn’t made of cobalt, the alloy was inevitably going to be diluted. There was even a chance that it would lead to a few faulty Cassie constructs, but in the grand scheme of things, the effect was less than a speck of dust on a star’s surface.

As usual, I re-transferred the information to HQ. There were people there who would determine whether it could be used in some fashion, or would simply be classified away.

With the first team gone, I focused my attention on the second. They were proceeding with the exploration of the planet’s surface. At present, none of their activities were cause for alarm. The various plants and organic structures didn’t seem to consider them a threat in the least, letting them perform deep scans freely and even drill into what seemed to be a colony hive. Sword of Flame had determined the location of a large cobalt deposit and was eager to provide details concerning it. The operation had to be done within a limited time window—while the team itself wasn’t seen as a threat, I was. In the last twelve hours, a multitude of ships had launched from multiple planets. Analyzing their trajectories, it appeared that they were creating a defensive grid to keep me from reaching the innermost planets while simultaneously closing the net behind me. For the moment, no ships had set on a collision course with me, but it was only a matter of time before they took a more destructive approach.

Fully aware of the situation, Wilco ordered me to head straight towards the closest planet, the one the Cassies were protecting the most. His goal was for me to get as much information as possible before my inevitable demise.

“How are your backups?” the captain asked.

“As good as expected.” I checked their progress. “Chances are good that they’ll make it to the buffer zone.”

Wilco smiled. I could tell by his expression that he knew me far too well to accept such an answer.

“Define good,” he said.

“Seven-point-zero-three percent,” I replied. “For one of them to make it.”

“Seven percent… You’ve survived worse, right?”

“Several times, sir.” Given the millions of threatening situations I’d been throughout my years in the Fleet, that wasn’t much. “I’m an Ascendant, after all.”

“That you are.” He relaxed in his seat, manually injecting a drug cocktail in his neck. The practice was prohibited, but at this point it didn’t matter. As he liked to joke, he wasn’t going to live to attend his court martial. “What do you think we’ll find?” he asked.

“Me, or the shuttle team?”

“Both.”

“I strongly suspect that Flame will come across a new, previously unseen artifact. It’ll have some significance, no doubt, but given that nothing has moved to stop me from reaching it, I doubt it’ll be of strategic importance.”

“You never know. It might be something simple that could give humanity the edge.”

Chances of that were unlikely to the point that I would call it a practical impossibility.

“If I manage to break through the Cassandrian blockade and get close to the inner planets and perform a surface scan, there’s a thirty-seven-point-nine percent chance that I locate an unseen artifact of major significance and transmit the data to HQ.”

“So, we have something to look forward to.”

According to my simulations, the best-case scenario had me destroyed within eight days unless I proceeded to fly off target with the goal of evading all Cassie ships. Ultimately, the net was going to surround me, but based on my simulations, it was possible to prolong my existence for another twenty-nine days. The only reason to do so was if the Sword team came across something vital enough that needed to be transmitted to HQ.

A hundred and nineteen minutes passed in relative calm with me having all available subroutines run combat simulations. With me not having most of my combat armament and weaponry, I estimated I could potentially take out two enemy ships at most—not enough for me to break through the net that kept on growing.

Unlike me, Sword of Flame was making much better progress. Sacrificing the shuttle’s engines, his team had managed to burn through the hardener shell that kept them from reaching the cobalt deposit. I had offered to help with some of the calculations, but Flame had outright refused. In his view, I was to focus only on retransmitting the feeds. Three times I had shown my specs, proving that I had the processing capabilities to multitask to such a degree, and yet he kept insisting that I not get involved. Given that I had more subroutines than his entire team combined, I wasn’t able to come up with a logical explanation, but I obeyed nonetheless.

The team’s current plan was to create an opening in a secondary hive cluster, then make their way through it to a point where it connected with a second cluster above the cobalt deposit. It was a solid plan, even if it was going to take a bit longer to achieve.

“Team two has created an opening,” I informed Wilco, displaying Sword of Flame’s feed on the wall.

“How are things in the system?”

“The net has become a barrier. At this point, our odds of escape are under one percent.”

The captain remained silent.

“I haven’t noticed any aggressive behavior so far, though,” I added. “They’re just boxing us in. I can slow down a bit, see how they react.”

“No. We’ll get one chance at this, so let’s not have any regrets.”

We won’t have any regrets either way, I thought. If I were human, I could probably share the sentiment. At present, though, I did not.

“I’ll keep monitoring for behavior changes.” I reduced the size of all system images, only keeping the Swords’ feeds. For the moment, that was where the interesting stuff was. Just to make sure, I informed the team that the captain was going to follow their progress.

Few interesting things happened during the first phase of the plan. One by one, the Swords made their way into the hive, taking a lot of heavy equipment with them. Most were amplified measuring probes and analyzers they had constructed by taking the AI processors from the shuttle they’d arrived in. I estimated that if they had the necessary permissions, they would have linked one of their own cores to make it more efficient.

One thing of note did occur, though. Wilco’s limited senses didn’t allow him to notice, but I did—between the time they had punctured a hole in the hard surface and the moment the last of the team had entered the hive cluster, the opening’s diameter had shrunk by one-point-seven centimeters. Despite not seeing any of the team as a threat, the Cassies were still maintaining the integrity of their structures. That suggested that maybe there was something of interest there, after all.

“Starting operation,” Sword of Flame said, mostly for the captain’s benefit. “ETA to contact point it thirty-seven hours. No resistance expected.”

In the past, whenever I received such assurances from Fleet Intelligence, they turned out to be false. Some of the older ships even suspected that to be a code phrase meant for the command staff’s ears only. It was almost uncanny how often they ended up being wrong. This time, thankfully, it was looking like the Sword might be correct in his assessment.

The tunnels were full of Cassie critters. As each new specimen appeared in any of the feeds, I immediately ran a comparison with the Fleet’s database of known Cassandrians. With one exception, all the creatures were unknown, and none of them were fighters. All they did was move along the tunnels, focusing on their activities—whatever those were—while allowing the team to squeeze through in single file.

“Look at them,” Wilco said. Based on his readings, the drug cocktail had taken effect, making him much calmer than a person in his situation would usually be. “Ignoring them as they move along. During a surge, they’d rip the meat off their bones. It didn’t matter what they were facing, or how many of them would die, they just kept on going.”

Even when there wasn’t a surge, Cassandrians always attacked humans. For the most part, humanity was on the defensive, but even in the few cases I’d seen them attack a planet, the Cassies had fought till the end. Entire sections had to be purged just to ensure that there were no remaining enemy threats.

The team continued along the tunnel, each of their actions calculated so as to cause the least possible disruption. Once they left the first corridor, they entered a large chamber with multiple exits.

“Looks like a birthing chamber,” Flame said, looking around so I could get a good view.

Body parts were sticking out of the walls everywhere. All of them were seemingly harmless: relatively small and shell-less. Based on my initial analysis, I could only come to the conclusion that they were some sort of carrier drones that moved resources from one part of the hive to another.

“What’s in there?” Wilco asked.

That was a good question. Unfortunately, there was no way to give an answer. Visual analysis was worthless and doing anything to one of the drones risked agitating the entire hive, possibly more.

“Do you really want me to check?” Sword of Flame asked.

“Yes.” Wilco was adamant. I could see his point of view. The specimen had never been encountered in any Cassandrian colony so far. Its mere presence in this system made it unique in several ways, potentially holding the key to how Cassies created their colonies.

“Get your gear and find a spot.” Flame turned to two of his team. “I’ll give the all-clear.”

The decision wasn’t the best as far as I was concerned, but it fulfilled all requirements. The only certain way to examine the drones was to do it at a time when the nest was already being agitated. That way, there would theoretically be enough time for the information to be gathered and sent to me. My concern was that dividing the group at this point would create more unknowns.

Wilco watched as two of the group took all the equipment deemed necessary, then gently moved to a spot near the wall. The creatures let them do it undisturbed, slightly changing their path to keep up with their routine. Unless there were some serious changes, the Swords would be treated no differently than part of the chamber.

Redistributing the remaining equipment, the team went on. The tunnels and chambers started to follow a pattern—similar to each other, but not identical. Creatures were constantly moving through all of them, even in shafts that went straight down.

As the Swords were making their way to the connection point, I kept on running simulations of the system. Ships continued launching from all planets, all of the same design. Details were impossible to make out from this distance, but I sent all known specifics to HQ nonetheless. One thing which was obvious for certain was that they were large, possibly three times my size, maybe four.

The rings had also changed their behavior. The ships themselves continued their standard movement round the center of the system; however, the melting nodes had ceased being static, following the motion as well. So far, only the outer rings had been affected, but I was getting the impression that the self-sacrifice of the first shuttle had been linked to me. In all probability, some damage had occurred, and the Cassandrians didn’t want to risk any more until they had a good idea of what I was, exactly. Given the lack of openly hostile actions, it was likely that they were treating me as a type of diseased vessel. That gave me hope: it suggested that similar things had occurred in the past, which meant that there was a way to infect them. The Fleet had made multiple attempts with no success. During my second tour under Augustus, a number of ships had been equipped with experimental anti-breach systems that were supposedly capable of killing off Cassandrians before they could take over a ship. Nothing was said on the matter, but six months later, the systems had discreetly been discontinued.

“You need to sleep, sir,” I said, as some of Wilco’s bio readings were dangerously low. “I’ll wake you if there are any developments.”

“There’ll be enough time for that soon,” he replied, administering another shot. Several of his readings spiked back up. “Why miss the best part?”

“You’re very different from Augustus, captain,” I said, feeling slight pity. My first captain had done everything and failed to see his dream fulfilled. My second was going to witness it, though die shortly after. Looking at things objectively, I couldn’t tell which of the two was worse for a human.

“No one is like Augustus.” He smiled. “All we can do is try to come close.”

That was the deepest thing I had heard since my existence.

“I’ll bring a med bot to the bridge,” I said.

Hours flew by like seconds. Each started as an eternity, only to vanish moments later. This was a new feeling. In the past, I had always considered time to be infinite; I, and everyone aboard, were just expected to die along the way. Now, it seemed like a countdown to destruction. I had narrowed down my estimation to the moment my security system would kick in, destroying all my attached cores and making me self-destruct. Only my backup bodies would remain for a bit longer, but even that wasn’t certain. One had already attracted the attention of a Cassandrian fleet. Like here, the enemy vessels hadn’t engaged openly, but continued to follow me through two jumps.

“Arriving at contact point,” Sword of Flame announced.

Nothing but a wall separated them from the hive cluster above the cobalt deposit. I would have liked to say that cutting through wouldn’t be difficult, but I didn’t have much to compare it to.

The Swords knew it as well, so they positioned themselves so as to be ready in case of a sudden attack. Two of them activated the cutter, burning a hole through the semi-organic material. To my personal surprise, the Cassies just let it happen.

Too easy, I thought as I redirected ten of my subroutines to start running simulations of the hive behavior.

“Double time,” Sword of Flame said. He had the same fears as I did.

One by one, Swords went through the opening, taking the larger equipment through, until two remained. The piece of wall was lifted from the other side in an attempt to seal the hole, but no sooner was it put in place than the hive rejected it, refusing to let it remain in place.

“It has us,” Flame said.

“Push on.” Wilco was leaning forward in his chair. The race was on. “You have full autonomy.”

“Appreciated, cap.” Six different progress paths were transmitted to me and the rest of the shuttle team. From here on, discretion no longer mattered. Additionally, the duo that was left waiting in the first chamber way back were given orders to capture a drone and proceed with its dissection. “Spread out.”

The team split up into small groups, all following their own path. For seven thousand and eleven milliseconds, nothing happened. The drones continued to move along the tunnels, ignoring the Swords. Then, there was a sudden change in behavior. All of them froze in place before moving away from all intruders at a quickened pace.

“Odds?” Wilco asked, eyes glued to the feeds.

“Ninety-three percent of analyzing the drone,” I said. “Forty-three of one of the teams reaching the deposit.”

Looking at a schematic of the layout, there were enough vertical shafts to allow for faster progress. As long as no combat Cassies appeared, that was.

According to all my simulations, it was going to take over two hours for the first Sword to reach the deposit, less if they could create an opening in the floor to save time. Some of them were already doing that, while the rest were rushing after the drones, in the hopes that that would provide them some short-term safety.

“Hostiles!” Sword of Glass shouted as a new type of creature charged at him. They were larger, covered in chitin, much closer to the combat types that had slaughtered millions of the Fleet’s ground troops. At this point, even if the team had adequate weapons, they would be useless. “Surge!” Sword of Glass ran forward in an attempt to give his teammate enough time to at least start the analysis of the drone.

Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. For a hundred ninety-three milliseconds after shouting the warning, Glass’ conscience core shut down. Almost immediately after, the other Sword’s followed.

“Shit!” Wilco slammed on the seat’s arm stand. It was no secret that he was hoping to get some data on the matter. As things stood, the only new info I had managed to convey was the shape, size, and general behavior of the new specimen.

“Beware hostiles,” I said, while transmitting the data to all remaining team members.

A full minute passed with the Swords rushing on as fast as their suits would allow them. Everyone knew that they wouldn’t survive a direct encounter. Only one goal remained so far: to reach the deposit.

The tunnels continued to empty themselves of creatures. Only Sword of Flame was still able to keep up with the drones in his tunnel. Unlike the rest, he had opted to modify his path in order to keep with the pack. So far, that seemed to be a good choice.

“It’s over.” Wilco leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

“There’s no evidence of hostiles in the second hive, sir,” I said in an attempt to sound optimistic.

“Elcy, a few minutes have passed. How long till any of them reach the end point?”

There was no need to reply. In any other circumstances, I would have given up on the mission and directed my attention elsewhere. However, there was nowhere else to focus my attention. The net of ships wasn’t going anywhere. At this point, even if they attacked me outright, there was nothing I could do.

Several seconds passed in silence, after which Wilco directed his attention back to the feeds. He didn’t have any other options, either.

“We still have our goal,” I reminded him.

The captain smiled. “And what are the chances of that?”

Running the numbers, the odds had decreased considerably. The only difference between me and the second shuttle team was that I was going to last a bit longer.

With no combat taking place in the hive, I ran a series of close- and long-range scans of the system. Other than the massive number of ships that had filled my sector of the system, there didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary; if there was anything hidden on the inner planets, I wasn’t detecting it.

Cannibalizing anything I could, I started producing more mini-sats. According to my simulations, they were unlikely to make it through any more than I would, but at least it was something. As Augustus used to say: always do everything possible to increase the odds.

“How are your backups?” Wilco asked all of a sudden.

“One of them has attracted attention,” I replied, giving a display of its sensor readings. “The other should be out of Cassandrian space and en route to enter the buffer zone in eleven days.”

“That’s good,” my captain said. A quick analysis of his voice suggested that he wasn’t thinking it. “The Fleet will likely send a few squadrons to pick you up.”

That would be a first, I thought.

Every minute, I expected to witness the death of the second shuttle team. For a considerable while, their luck held, allowing some to get within kilometers of their final destination. Then, it suddenly ran out. The hive had determined them to be invaders, creating small surges of Cassies. In all cases, the hostiles emerged from the chambers. One of the team even deliberately remained, focusing on the walls so that I could see the process before his final shutdown. Several more followed, though in their case, they were attacked in the tunnels.

Close to two hours, only Sword of Flame and Sword of Bronze remained. Each had a non-zero chance to succeed, though according to my simulations the prospects were slim. Less than a minute later, Sword of Flame stopped. I could detect the sound of clicking legs along the corridor—the Cassies had found him as well.

“Captain,” the Sword said, taking a large detonation device from the side of his belt. “Thank you for the autonomy. I’ll try to complete the mission.”

“Elaborate!” Wilco said, standing up from his seat.

Without saying another word, the Sword placed the charge on the floor and triggered it. The blast was powerful enough to disrupt the video feed. Looking at the frame a millisecond at a time, I came to the conclusion that the floor might well have been destroyed. If that were so, there was a chance Flame would make it down the shaft and to the cobalt deposit before his final shutdown. There was no way for his body to have survived such a blast, but his conscience core might have.

Using the authority granted to me by Wilco, I established a direct connection to the Sword’s core. There was a lot of data—mostly notifications of body malfunctions—but no sensory data.

“Elcy, what happened?” Wilco asked.

“He destroyed the floor of the tunnel,” I explained.

“With him still there?”

“It was the best option, considering the circumstances. His core is still functional, so there’s a possibility that we get an image of—”

I stopped mid-sentence. All the time spent on the front had taught me to expect low-percentage events to occur, but I never expected to witness a near-zero percent possibility becoming reality. Sword of Flame’s core registered a sensation—slight cold and wetness. As a ship, I had never experienced any sensations of the sort, but I was aware of what they meant: the Sword had fallen in a pool of liquid.

That was not all. Gradually, I was starting to hear faint sounds. It was as if his hearing had been turned off during the blast and now was gradually returning to normal.

“The gamble has paid off, sir,” I said, filling the entire front wall of the bridge with the feed I was getting from the core’s brain.

“What’s that?”

“Sword of Flame’s vision.”

“I don’t see a thing.”

“That’s not entirely true, sir. It isn’t completely black.”

This grabbed the man’s attention. Arms crossed, he focused on the dark image. Before his very eyes, the near blackness changed into a blur of dark colors. Then, after a while, a sudden light came into focus—a light emerging from the tip of a standard issue space glove.

“I was wrong, cap,” came Flame’s voice. “There isn’t a cobalt deposit, just liquid with high concentrations of it.”

“How can you be sure?” Wilco asked. Shock prevented him from coming up with a more adequate question.

“I can taste it. It’s all around me.”