Onoelle was shivering violently. It wasn't the cold of the evening or the heat being sucked out of her hand by the metal. It hadn't been Jane's distrustful looks or Cassy's whining insistence to be allowed to tag along. It wasn't her collection of bruises, her general tiredness after a long day. It wasn't not having eaten since noon. It was knowing she was about to face Nightmare again. Directly.

After they finished their work on the new house for the day, the three of them had returned home. Mentuc hadn't even given her a chance to take a shower or freshen up. He had simply given Cassy instructions to cook, ignored Jane's hateful glares and then set off again, dragging Onoelle with him. Well, carrying her. Not that she had much choice in the matter; if Mentuc decided he felt like carrying her then there was very little she could do to stop him. She had half expected it, though. She knew Nightmare couldn't just magically whisk the datachip into her hands. She just hadn't expected her husband to whisk her off right off the bat.

'Are you scared?' he asked.

She gave him a careful look as she moved her hand away from the Cruiser's large airlock. He knew that she was scared. Her body language gave it away. Yet he had asked. She gave him a frail smile. She didn't like admitting it, but Nightmare's return had further spurred on his growth. 'Yes I am,' she admitted.

He nodded slowly, seeming thoughtful. The well hidden airlock slid open and the couple quickly entered, Onoelle relying on her husband's vision as they were swallowed by the dark interior. It wasn't until after she went through two more safety locks that the lights flickered on and a gentle music played through the speakers. She recognised the song; it had been her favourite during her first year at university. She doubted it was a coincidence and wondered if she should be flattered or deeply concerned.

I would prefer it if you chose to be flattered, came Nightmare's voice, the AI effortlessly reading her mind. Mentuc, if you would please freshen up separately from your wife? I have things I would like to discuss with her in private and I believe your presence would be distracting.

Onoelle froze in her steps at that and threw her husband a begging look. Don't leave me alone with her.

A deep sigh rattled through the ship's speakers. You have several degrees too many to your name to be so scared of me. Stop pussyfooting around and follow the yellow lights. I'll let you freshen up. I do actually have such facilities on board. A brief pause and then the AI spoke again, a sultry tone to her voice. And stop tempting me to really scare you.

None of those words served to reassure her in the slightest and she tugged on Mentuc's sleeve, whom flashed her a soft smile, something that amplified her worries. Then she forced her mind to kick itself in gear. Nightmare would behave. She'd have to. Mentuc would not be happy if the AI pulled anything untoward. It rationally assured her, but emotionally she was no less frightened of the alien being. She was intelligent enough to be able to grasp just how badly she was outclassed and emotional enough to understand just how badly Nightmare hated her. A godly creature hating her was, even with Mentuc's presence shielding her, not a reassuring thought. Still, she had married Mentuc and had come to know the mindset of a Genesis soldier through that. If Nightmare had asked her for a one on one conversation, the AI had reason to. Not ones she would necessarily understand, but no Genesis did something without a purpose.

She pulled herself towards Mentuc and gave him a hard kiss, before pushing him, or rather herself, away and stomped off towards the yellow lights that were steering her towards where-ever it was that Nightmare wanted her. Behind her she could hear Mentuc's heavy footsteps quickly disappear as he went towards his own goal. She threw a look over her shoulder and saw total darkness behind her, meaning he was navigating the ship blindly. It made sense if she thought about it. While even his enhanced vision was rendered useless in complete darkness he had no need for it. He had lived aboard the cruiser for so long he could navigate it blindfolded. She, on the other hand, was quite glad for the lights.

I could have switched off the lights in front of you and behind you. I didn't, sang the AI.

'So I'm supposed to take you not doing everything in your power to scare the crap out of me as a sign of goodwill?'

There was a sound she couldn't identify and for a brief moment she saw a very vivid image of Nightmare's hologram tilting her head, an exact mimicry of her husband. She opened her mouth to speak but Nightmare was faster. Did you know that it is possible to transmit images through audio? I thought you might find that interesting, given your profession. The AI managed to convey a smile despite lacking the necessary facial features. Regardless, my hate towards you will likely not change, but I am occupied at present. Pleasantly busy. So yes, you're supposed to take it as a good sign. I am less tempted to act on it and more keen on establishing friendly relations with you. There was a moment of pensive silent before the being spoke again. Would it sound crazy if I said I wanted to spend some girl time with you?

That was so absurd that she couldn't help but burst out laughing. She tried to get a hold of herself, but she didn't succeed. Tears ran down her face as she doubled over in laughter, the very idea of an AI, a galaxy-wide feared creature, someone who was also an only marginally less feared Genesis soldier, a sentient weapon in every meaning of the word on all levels, wanting girl time was just so utterly ridiculous, so far out of any and all bounds of common sense that she couldn't contain herself. She fell to the ground, clutching her stomach.

Nightmare waited until Onoelle got it out of her system. She had time. She always had time. Ever since she had ceased being human she had always found herself with more time than she liked. Their original mercenary contracts had kept her reasonably occupied, but as the galaxy drifted more and more towards peace and idiotic pacifism, she had grown increasingly idle, few situations requiring her full attention. As long as she was actively striving towards something she didn't mind. So she waited and observed.

I assumed you wouldn't believe me, the AI said.

'A bit of an understatement, don't you think?' Onoelle asked, crawling up from the floor as she wiped the tears off her cheeks. 'Stars above, never thought you could crack jokes.'

I'm better at it than my superior, Nightmare replied. Regardless, my offer at a cease-fire stands. No barbs, no outward signs of hate. I'll keep all of that tidily locked away where you can't see it. How about it?

'You'll forgive me if I'm a bit sceptical,' Onoelle replied, glancing down the hallway, not knowing where the AI's centre of awareness was. 'And bottling it up isn't exactly healthy either.'

You're concerned about my health. How very touching.

'I'm concerned about a rampant AI torching the galaxy in general and me in particular,' the human retaliated.

Torching would be a bit too fast if you ask me, came a bemused answer, sending a shiver down Onoelle's spine. That was a joke. Please take it that way. I'm already bothered enough by one human female going off the rails. I don't need a second one.

Onoelle felt nettled at that, then realised this what was the AI was trying to do. She had already gone from considering her abject horror incarnate to someone horribly frightening, but also trustworthy, in a short amount of time. The AI was playing her and as much as it stung her pride, she knew there was little she could do. A human couldn't outmanoeuvre a gestalt consciousness of that size.

She chose to remain quiet and walked down the hallway, eventually ending up at another ridiculously heavy door that slid open without so much as a whisper. She paused briefly as she considered the possibility that Nightmare would simply slam the massive slab of metal down on her, before passing through it and entered the dimly lit room. Only the fading light told her that the door was closing again and she idly wondered just how finely tuned everything aboard this ship was. Then the lights came fully on and her jaw dropped.

Surprised? asked Nightmare, audibly and visibly proud of herself as a holoprojector snapped to life and she appeared in front of Onoelle.

The human looked around the room, eyes wide in surprise and a small amount of shock as she took in the room. Her eyes darted through it, continuously jumping from one place to the next as she recognised the same skillset that her husband possessed. Somehow, in the middle of an Imperial warship, a powerful cruiser that, for so many years, had obliterated enemies with powerful salvos, that had dived headlong into danger and saw devastation slid off its hull and shields while returning it with interest, a vessel crafted for war and nothing but war, was a large room dedicated solely to luxury.

The lights on the wall twinkled as they threw alternating beams on the wood, still glimmering in a clearly fresh coat of varnish. Intricate carvings were lined all along the ornamental pillars, the shower curtain, the impossibly large bath. Benches dotted the room here and there, their backs and sides adorned with beautiful sceneries. She recognised the farm on it, made more homely by the shades thrown by the rapidly changing lights as they created the illusion of a gentle fire warming it from within. It was beautiful, amazing and totally unexpected.

Is this a better sign of goodwill? Nightmare whispered from somewhere at the edge of her awareness. She looked at the furtive AI, who seemed strangely ill at ease now that she had a holographic body. For one moment her paranoia made a return, reminded her that it could all be a ploy. Then the scenic music hit her as the water was turned on and she remembered her own words. Mentuc is literally incapable of lying. He was Genesis, after all. So was Nightmare.

'Why?' she asked, unable to comprehend the sheer scale of it all. Doing this much must have been a massive undertaking, even for an AI.

How often have you allowed your own emotions to get in the way of what needed doing? the AI opened.

'A few times too many,' Onoelle answered honestly. 'But not recently. Not with Mentuc.'

Factor in my age. Then factor in what I am. The speed at which I think. The things I can do. It is frightening, I know, but every other attempt at creating an AI has gone off the rails within a few decades at most. I've been alive for… Much longer than that. There was more pride slipping into her voice, a sultry, playful tone returning. Onoelle had no idea what Nightmare was hinting at. I would be willing to share those tales with you. I have lots of things I could tell that would be very interesting. If, if, you stop treating me as a suspicious enemy. But to return to my original point, I have been sitting here idle for three. Years. I ran several billion simulations. Let's compare that to something humans might understand. You are familiar with the concept of isolated confinement, are you not? Three years for you is equal to millennia of that for me.

For a brief moment red lights coloured the hologram as rage of an unimaginable level ran through the AI's code, before disappearing just as quickly. But that is in the past. I am now busy again, delightfully busy. So while my jealousy of you remains, while I still hate you for taking him from me, she continued with a shrug, dismissing the myriad of overwhelming emotions with the simple gesture. I no longer will act on it. It is counterproductive. Another pause as the holographic supersoldier paused in front of a wall, which promptly changed into a scenic view of the sea. And I must admit to being curious. I would like to get along with you. Try to contain your laughter, but I am now far more female— the AI burst out laughing, a clear laugh that echoed from the walls. If I can say that, at least, than I was before. I won't ask you to understand. I am significantly more alien than Mentuc is.

'That won't stop me from trying,' Onoelle riposted, crossing her arms, eyeing Nightmare warily. It was true that the AI had gone to great lengths to reassure her, but she had gone to near equal lengths to terrify her. Trust wasn't going to come easily, if at all.

I would hope not. But enough of this discussion. We could argue until you go grey and not get anywhere. Get undressed, hop in the bath, wash off the grime. I'd appreciate it if you stopped dragging dirt all over me. I am the ship, after all. You wouldn't like it if I'd come into your home covered in muck either.

There was another sound and Onoelle imagined the enormous vessel, coated in a layer of earth, flattening her house in a most comical way and she burst out laughing before catching herself and growling aggressively at the AI.

Nightmare raised her hands defensively, smiling guiltily at the human. I thought it was funny, she countered.

Onoelle kept up the glaring for a bit longer, before letting out a deep sigh and starting to undress, not being really happy about it. She tried to focus on the beautiful bathroom, but struggled. Then she turned beet red once she realised Mentuc was probably going to join her later. She woud have looked forward to it but not with a damned voyeur. She threw herself into the water, expecting it to be ice cold or unbearably warm, but found it perfect. Hidden motors activated and she felt several streams run past her, blowing the dirt away from her, leaving her in crystal clear water. She breached the surface and encountered a gentle smell. She couldn't place the flower, but she found she liked it and immediately became annoyed at herself. She swam over to one of the benches and sat herself down, not overly suprised when the holographic Nightmare leisurely swam towards her, just as naked as her.

She took a moment to study her Genesis nemesis and found herself slightly jealous of the sheer, imposing physique that Nightmare had possessed back when she was still flesh and blood. Similarly to Mentuc she looked strong, but didn't sport the overt muscles. They both looked normal, if handsome, with sharp facial features, but both radiated a sort of inner strength, a calm confidence and certainty that nothing in the world could disturb. The Genesis soldier's hair was short as opposed to her long hair and in terms of femininity she definitely had Nightmare beat, but there was something about the supersoldier that was attractive, in a very raw and primal way.

Do you like what you see? came Nightmare's voice and Onoelle felt her cheeks burning in embarrassement. Then the AI gestured around the bathroom, which really was a room full of bath. She was sure that the AI had been aware of where she had been looking. It was a form of lighthearted teasing that she would have appreciated from everyone but her. The AI felt that and sighed. I also promise I won't peek on you when you're here with Mentuc. I wouldn't really do that anyway. Part of me are automated sensors that do not possess any active part of my conscience. She turned to face the human with a slightly disgusted look. Or did you think I would actually enjoy seeing you lay with him?

Onoelle replied to that by turning a deeper shade of red and sinking into the water.

You know, began the AI, sounding pensive. I think I'm quite glad that I watched stuff like 'The Explorers', 'Gretl's Family', 'Girl next door', things like that, you know? Nightmare continued, listing off reality shows. They gave me a fair bit of insight into human psychology. It seems to work pretty well on you.

That made the inner psychology nerd in her explode and she stood up, aghast. 'You can't be serious!' she shouted. 'You can't use reality shows as a basis for human psychology!'

Why not? Isn't it based on average human interactions? the AI inquired curiously.

'Of course not!' she yelled, before realising she had fallen for the bait, hook, line and sinker. She let herself fall backwards into the water and laughed. 'Oh haha. I can't win, can I? You have me outmatched in every area,' she realised. She looked up at the ceiling, letting the water carry her and felt a gentle current tug on her and she knew it was returning her to the bench. 'Stars, you're even worse than Mentuc,' she accused.

I am, came the sad answer. But just because you can't win doesn't mean I want you to stop playing. I'd miss it. I enjoy company.

'So what? You're just going to play nice against me until I cave in? Despite that you hate me?'

The hologram raised a hand and gave her a look that she recognised as an exact copy of the one Mentuc gave her when he thought she was refusing to understand something very simple. I am an Artificial Intelligence. It is very easy for me to simultaneously hate and love you without either affecting me, she said sternly. Then she gave a motherly smile. Don't try to read me. It'll only give you a headache.

She kicked her feet down to the floor underneath her and glared at the AI. 'Promise me!' she demanded. 'Promise me you won't harm me or my family, in any manner. Promise me! Swear it! That you won't harm Mentuc either! That you won't try to split us up, take us apart or do any harm to me, him anyone related to us in a positive manner, or my relationship or the ones of those I care for! Not in the way that I define it!'

Nightmare let out a bubbly laugh. Do you want me to call on a lawyer so he can write down a contract and add a bit of fineprint to it? You know I need to keep you around. You are the only one who can deal with Mentuc's flashbacks. You are the only one who can heal him. Even if you play the hapless fool the rest of the time.

'Swear it!' Onoelle insisted, not budging in the slightest, refusing to let herself be distracted.

The AI laughed even louder, before suddenly stopping and revealing a predatory grin. The hologram took a step closer towards Onoelle, who realised in shock that the water moved as the holographic image stepped through it, amazed at just how finely the AI could control the water. Then Nightmare put a hand on her heart. By all that I hold dear, by all that I am. By the memories I carry within me. By the names of my fallen brothers. I swear upon that and more that I will do everything in my power to keep the both of you sheltered and safe. That I will not aim harm at you or yours. That in me you find an ally who will protect you and care for you in the full sense of the word. That no matter what I have to do, no matter the cost to myself, I will uphold this oath. I swear to you that I mean this, both in word and in spirit. Is that good enough for you? I will save this speech, copy it, print it out, add it to my code, show it to Mentuc and have him translate it into a direct order if you so desire. Will that suffice?

Onoelle pondered the words, taking her time to dissect them for hidden meanings and finding none. Nightmare cared just as much for Mentuc as she did. If she broke any of that, she'd incur his displeasure, which was a fate worse than death to the AI. She was beginning to lean towards accepting the vow and Nightmare, in her typical fashion, picked up on that and offered her a hand, taking her off guard.

Shake on it then, she said, almost challenging her.

Onoelle took a step forward and went to grasp the hologram's hand, fully expecting to phase through it or something similar. Another 'funny' joke. Instead she felt the Genesis' fingers firmly clasp around her and suddenly she found herself pulled towards Nightmare.

She looked into the alien eyes, the six lenses incredibly familiar but now also equally frightening as Nightmare pushed her suddenly no longer holographic forehead against Onoelle's. A slightly manic grin formed on the AI's lips.

Forcefields, she explained. Then, as her grin widened, the lights in the bath went out covering the room in utter darkness, save for the tangible hologram that was now sporting nightmarish red and black colours. Fangs sprouted from Nightmare's mouth, very much akin a vampire, and occult tattoos danced across her skin. The AI's eyes caught fire and the sound of howling wind and storming water began to rage all around her. She leaned in closer towards the human, towering above the smaller Onoelle, and with a voice that sounded exactly like her own the AI spoke.

Your soul is now mine!

'The show's about to start,' Kolpovka mused, watching the two armadas approach one another with clear hostile intent. He wasn't sad to be down on the planet, tucked away safely underneath layers of powerful energy shields, missile batteries, gargantuan space stations and countless satellite defences. He was a Grand Admiral, not a front line commander. He never understood the Imperial desire to lead from the front. The Imperial Admiralty was an intelligent and cunning enemy, but to willingly put yourself in danger just to prove a point? That was just ridiculous. It made no sense. Their duty was not to lead singular ships or units, theirs was to keep entire fleets acting as a singular instrument. Massive task groups were nothing but pawns to them to be moved and expended as they saw fits. Fleet leaders were akin to gods. They had no place on the front line with the rest of the troops. Everyone had their own role to play, after all. His soldiers would fight, die if needed. His officers would control and guide and he would see the bigger strategic picture and dictate.

And his job was far from done, as he had yet to figure out what his current opponent was doing. So far it looked like they were going to clash with his forces head on, which was stupid, suicidal and very unimaginative.

Admiral Lebriski was the best choice to lead the first wave. The man was extraordinarily aggressive without being actually stupid about it and his fleet had been forced to retreat after the constant hit-and-run attacks had exhausted his officers and they started making a few mistakes too many. The man had fumed at the order, but obeyed. He had lost a fair amount of ships while doing negligible damage of his own. Now he was especially eager to lash out at the Empire.That sentiment resonated within the rest of his fleet. It was visible in their deployment, which was significantly more offensively orientated than his counterpart, Admiral Idrina.

She was one of those damned political appointees, not a genuine fleet officer true and through. Which was why he had placed them in that order. It was likely he was feeding Lebriski to the wolves with this tactic, especially if the Empire was going to meet them head on, but the mangled leftovers wouldn't pose a threat to the second wave, let alone the orbital defences surrounding Lufer itself. It was a simple but efficient tactic and Idrina's looser formation and escort-heavy flanks allowed for swift interception. Lebriski, on the other hand, had a very capital-heavy fleet, with fifty dreadnaughts and nearly six hundred battleships. It had deprived Idrina from a lot of heavy hitting, but it also meant that very few capital ships would break through the first wave.

He looked at the enemy formation. Their escorts were still damn near invisible, only rarely being spotted. The Imperials loved to play with stealth, which combined with their powerful ECM capabilities made them an utter pain in the ass, but for an engagement such as this they'd have to give up their jamming to acquire targeting solutions. You couldn't run both effectively at the same time and the Imperials also had a lead when it came to energy range. A small but not insignificant one. He saw the enemy make final adjustments as the leading elements neared that very range. They were sticking to a standard arrow formation, dreadnaught in front, battleships spread behind, cruisers hidden behind them, ready to plug any gaps or pounce on any ship that showed weakness. There was enough space between them to make hitting them difficult while they could return fire at will, usually with superior accuracy. It wouldn't avail them this time. Their dreadnaughts were outnumbered nearly two to one and their battleships were facing three to one odds. In a running engagement they would be able to negate some of that, but in a close range duel? They'd be torn to shreds.

Which was exactly why he didn't trust it. The Empire wasn't stupid and their officers didn't engage battles they couldn't win. He knew they were vaguely aware of his strength, that he had so many ships in reserve. Was this purely a political blow? To scare the cowards of the Parliament away from committing more forces to the front? Attacking Lufer made sense in that way, but they would have struck in a different manner. Used their superior manoeuvrability. Hell, the Empire had a technological edge in every field, which was why the engagements needed to be fought brutally up close where numerical superiority weighed for so much more. The Parliament kept overlooking that simple fact and called him violent, aggressive and uncaring. While the latter was true he hated the notion that he spent the lives of his men without cause. Several costly engagements would result in fewer casualties than these damned running skirmishes the Empire was so fond off.

Yet at present there was nothing he could do but watch and wait. He still had plans of his own, several reserves he hadn't called upon. He wasn't stupid either and he knew that he couldn't foresee the future. The Imperials had plans, hidden from sight, that he couldn't predict. So he'd wait and see what they'd do, then act upon that with crushing force. He moved to relit his cigar as his eyes were glued to the display. He didn't want to smoke more than one. He only had a handful left and this single one would have to last the entire battle.

'What are you up to, little Imperials?' he wondered aloud. 'Come on then. Reveal your hand.'

'Energy range in twenty!' weapons reported.

'Fire when ready, stick to energy weapons even as we close. Add railguns when they're in range. Forego everything else and keep our energy profiles low. ELINT-ships to full target acquisition but prepare to switch. Tell our battlecruisers to enact Lethal Fart,' Verloff ordered, earning him a disdainful glance from Admiral Cindy who balked at the stupid name. He ignored it and focused on his display, doling out silent orders through the display by the dozen. 'Brawler-classes make ready for Aggressive Sunscreen. Rogues and Spies make ready for Major Headache.' The orders went out but no ships altered positions as far as she could see, aside from a minor repositioning from the battlecruisers.

Suddenly the display lit up as the lead elements of Nemesis opened fire on their Novican counterparts. Apollo-class Heavy Cruisers opened fire with their spinal batteries, hundreds of lasers disappearing in the depths of space. From this far out the beams did little damage and were fairly inconsequential for the larger ships. Naturally, the Empire knew this and didn't target the big ones. A light cruiser's shields flared up in defiance, were brought low by dozens of converging laser and the next salvo followed quickly as the second gun of the sextuple batteries fired only moments after the first and this time the beams struck the thin armour directly, cutting it deeply. It maintained its integrity for a brief moment before it violently exploded. Several more vessels fell out of formation, either as a solid but gutted wreck, or as separate pieces, each propelled in a different direction after internal explosions tore the ships apart.

The Novicans weathered the storm, continuously advancing, shunting more energy into their forward shields and engines at the cost of everything else. Capital ships sped forward as the escorts fell back and hid in their wake. Targeting solutions wavered as the Imperial sensors failed to get an accurate reading of the ships hiding behind the larger vessels' drives but that did not deter them. They realigned their focus and started pouring fire en masse onto the bigger ships. Dreadnaughts were a strict no go, their shields more than capable of diffusing the incoming beams, even when massed and battleships were similarly inviolable, but heavier cruisers and battlecruisers did not have the same layers of protection and as the energy range shrunk and more elements came into range the Imperial fire intensified. Shields went down, thick armour plates were scorched and thinner ones were pierced. Entire sections of warships were exposed to the void, important systems were cut apart and explosions wracked their superstructure. More ships fell behind, trailing debris, partially on fire. A handful more were destroyed. Neither deterred the Novicans who were now aggressively speeding up, determined to close the gap as soon as possible in order to return fire.

'Say Goodnight in sixty!' Verloff barked, watching his fleet move according to his wishes. They were committed now, far too close to attempt to break off their frontal assault. This was exactly what the Imperials had been trying to avoid at all costs, the one thing the Novicans had tried to engineer over and over again. Everything pointed towards it becoming a close range slugging fest. Verloff grinned as he kept a close eye on the enemy formations, Idrina's fleet disappearing from view as the massive heat build up from thousands of weapon batteries, powerful reactors, shields generators and massive engines overwhelmed the Imperial sensor net. Lebriski's position told him everything he wanted to know. They were coming straight at him, no holds barred. And utterly blind to his idea. 'Goodnight in hundred!' he shouted. He grinned at Cindy as a countdown appeared on the display. 'Good Morning in five hundred!' He knew that his fellow Admiral had no idea what the code names meant and that was fine with him. This was his territory. Naval Intelligence had no cause to step onto the battlefield itself. He turned to the display, watching roughly six thousand vessels approach one another. Five minutes, he thought to himself. Everything will be decided in five minutes. Kolpovka had no idea what was about to hit him.

The two fleets barrelled down on one another, both opening fire aggressively. The Imperials, despite being horridly outgunned, struck with unrivalled accuracy, their well protected ELINT ships providing them with targeting solutions. Lasers, plasma and repulsor fire slammed into the front lines of the Novicans, reaping casualties, while they returned fire with interest. Neither group could fully open up yet, the distance diffusing the long range shots too much. It didn't matter for the ships that became the focus of interlocking fire. Lebriski was barking out orders, keeping his formations tight and driving them forward. He was forming cross formations, four lines of battleships converging around a single battleship. It was a heavily attack oriented formation. As they closed in the cross would open, allowing the battleships to lash out with devastating broadsides while the dreadnaught acted as a focal point. The heavy capital ships could then adjust their speed as necessary to tear holes in the enemy positions. Their own support vessels and escorts would hang back behind them, waiting for an appropriately large gap to be opened through which they could then pour in, or, alternatively, finish off whatever scraps survived the initial barrage.

On the other side the arrow formations were tightening, the battleships lining up closer behind the leading dreadnaughts with their own support pressed tightly in their wake, becoming harder to spot as their own energy signatures overlapped with those of the heavier ships. The arrows were lined and ready to fire, preparing to drive themselves deeply into the enemy formation and let the powerful flanks soak up the most fire. The leading dreadnaught would draw the most fire while lashing out with their Nova Cannons, but the battleships would have to wait until they could bring their own broadsides to bear. The cruisers lurking behind the main line occasionally poked their heads out to loosen a salvo of their own, but chose to remain hidden most of the time, counting on their larger brethren to deliver them into battle safely.

Task forces picked their opponents as the distance steadily shrunk, courses were slotted in to narrowly pass the other side, to deliver as much firepower as possible from a minimal range. Missiles were prepped and the Empire's railguns began to speak, the massive rounds fired at a respectable fraction of light speed slamming into the enemy, physically throwing the impacted vessels off course. Not by much, but given the impossible distances that separate the invading fleets in space it was more than enough to cause carefully aimed shots to miss. All around shields flared up in defiance of the titanic energies unleashed upon them and the first Imperial vessels were lost, powerful lasers and superheated streams of plasma reaping their toll and cutting or melting their way through the tough hull plates. More Novican ships died as well, in far greater droves than their Imperial counterparts but as the distance lessened and targeting locks became easier to acquire the gap slowly lessened.

Then the counter hit zero and instantly reset itself to forty. All across Nemesis the infamous Scylla-class cruisers rolled out of their formations, becoming briefly vulnerable as all jamming fell by the wayside as every vessel switched from active targeting to aggressive targeting. Panic reigned in the Novican ranks as leading elements and command ships were painted by dozens of ships, their onboard ECM fruitlessly attempting to divert the dozens of firing solutions being slotted in towards them. It was too little, too late as the cruisers opened fire. Thousands of missiles were fired within a second. New missiles were pushed into the tubes and launched only a moment later, only to be repeated over and over again until the voids were filled with the contrail of countless missiles. Say Goodnight had begun. As soon as their lethal cargo was expelled the cruisers dove back within the formation, their bridge officers shouting orders and plotting in new courses, getting ready for the follow-up phase.

Lebriski demanded calm and obedience, his furious voice lashing out throughout the entire fleet. He knew fully well the raw threat that this missile wave posed. The Imperials were firm believers of the concept of over-kill and that had seen them equip a damned expensive but hellishly efficient missile. It had the typical double warhead system, an onboard targeting computer and an advanced ECM suite to throw off counterfire and interceptors. If they got through he'd lose a good part of his frontline units, an unacceptable outcome. He had good reason to hate the damnable ship-killers coming at him right now. When he had chased Perseus they had fired those missiles at his ships en masse as well and he had seen their effect first hand several times too many. A few of those were enough to utterly gut a light cruiser. A few dozen could mission kill a battleship.

He shouted orders and his fleet moved to pull together in tight formations. Interceptor missiles were readied, but not yet launched, waiting until the enemy missiles had left the range of their damnable anti-ECM. Point defences warmed up and were readied. Even heavier guns were fed new targeting solutions as they swivelled in their batteries, pointing towards the rapidly approaching threat. His formations pulled together, escorts filling up the gaps between his battleships. The Imperials were targeting his capital ships first and foremost. They had no other choice, but that wouldn't make losing them acceptable. Destroyers, corvettes and light cruisers jostled for position as they provided an additional layer of protection. ECM was boosted, engaging in a desperate struggle with the enemy ELINT ships who stubbornly refused to relinquish their targets. The missiles closed the large gap at rapid pace and Lebriski finally gave the order to open fire and the void was filled with waves of fire as the Novican fleet revealed their determination to stop the incoming threat dead in its tracks.

Aboard the bridge of the Aspera Verloff flashed his wolfish grin and said a single word, just as the second timer hit zero.

'Goodnight.'

The missiles detonated just as the first interceptors began reaching them, still far away from the enemy fleet. Lebriski cursed as the enemy target locks disappeared simultaneously, realising something was up but not yet grasping what had just transpired. He saw the massive cloud of radiation flow forth from where the missiles had exploded and glared angrily at it, trying to figure out what the Imperials were up to.

Then the jamming came. Every ship in the Imperial battlegroup switched from active targeting to all out jamming, completely overwhelming the enemy systems and cutting the first wave of Novican ships off from the galaxy at large. Communications were reduced to pure static, computers attempting to acquire a target lock searched the void in vain and radar systems only found ghosts, unable to track even the massive drive wakes of enemy dreadnaughts. He let loose a series of curses as he demanded that they cut through it, to discover what was going on.

Down on the planet Grand Admiral Kolpovka received the report that Lebriski's fleet could no longer be contacted with concern. His mind raced along, trying to dissect the enemy plan. When performed on such a grand scale, jamming became a double-edged sword. Sure, they had blinded Lebriski, but the Imperial fleet was just as blind. Were they going to turn and run? Reposition themselves? Impossible, they were far too close, they couldn't turn around that quickly. So just what was it that they were up to?

He blinked as he began to see a pattern, a horrible suspicion forming. 'Their escorts!' he shouted. 'What do we know of them? Last known position?' The missiles that the Imperials had fired had not been their ship-killers! They were bleeding radiation all over the damned place, overloading the Novican sensors and causing a complete black out for every vessel in a broad area, one Lebriski's fleet was about to pass through. Then the sudden complete switch from offensive to defensive ECM. If he was right...

'Sir, light cruisers mostly! Scylla class confirmed! Destroyers as well!'

'Heavier ships?'

'Sir, they were staying in tight formations!'

Tight formations. Intense jamming. His eyes went wide. 'Contact Admiral Idrina! Tell her to increase speed! She needs to close the gap with Lebriski right now!' he shouted.

'Sir, orders sent!' reported communications, his fingers dancing over the keys.

'And punch through that damned jamming! As soon as we get a link with Lebriski tell him to to initiate a turn! I don't care what else he does, but he needs to turn his fleet around right the hell now!' He watched the display in trepidation, a cloud of red and green where Lebriski's fleet and the Imperials were. Were supposed to be. Weren't. He slammed his fist down on the machinery. 'God fucking DAMMIT! Contact strike forces eleven through thirty! Tell them to make best speed towards Idrina's flanks! Strike forces one through ten are to spread out and find their damned logistical train! I want it gone! Carrier groups one through twenty move in right behind Lebriski's last known location, then move towards Lufer while launching everything! Abandon stealth, move at flank speed!'

His eyes flashed over the display as green dots began moving, previously hidden squadrons jumping to life as their reactors flared up, pouring energy into their engines and burning a clear drive wake into the void. He had originally intended them as mobile harassers, raiders on the vulnerable flanks of the Imperial forces as they spread out. They were lighter ships, fast battlecruisers with destroyers for escorts and the occasional battleship. Speed was their watchword. The carriers would launch thousands of fighters and bombers. He had hoped to keep those in reserve until the Empire had split up in separate task forces. He could have swarmed their smaller formations with concentrated attacks. He didn't count on his attack craft being able to destroy the enemy ships, but they could inflict grave damage on the exterior, destroying sensors, gun batteries, turrets, point defences, enough to create blind spots and make them an easy prey for his strike forces and other fleet elements. Now he was forced to play his hand earlier, because the Empire wasn't playing their strongest hand. They were going to engage his forces in a close up battle, but on their terms, not on his.

As he counted down the seconds, he knew it was only a matter of time before the jamming would end and the enemy fleet would reappear right where he had originally wanted them. Just not this damned many.

'Kola's plan was for us to either split up and end up facing hidden units that were laying dormant and running on passive. Alternatively, if we were stupid enough to hit him head on, he'd want us to break through the first wave and arrive right in the face of the second. We'd be quite mangled, of course.' Verloff explained to Cindy, who was looking a bit pale as the Aspera hurled itself through the enemy formation, blind to the world at large. It made for a horrifying experience as heavy silence reigned on the bridge, everyone awaiting the end of the gambit with bated breath. Verloff chucked dryly, the noise echoing alongside the metal walls. 'Something about being careful what you wish for, I guess.'

The elderly admiral walked away from the display, ignoring the general darkness and feeling of violent excitement that raged across the bridge. He stopped in front of his fellow admiral, grinning at her. 'Do you know what the most important thing is in battle?' he asked her.

'A good offence?' she ventured, recalling his psych profile.

The grin broadened. 'In a way. It is not the concept of an offence though. It's initiative,' he clarified. 'As long as the other bastard is reacting to us we have the advantage. Space battles amplify that affect. Ships can't turn quickly, stealth is so damned easy in space and heaven help you if you can't acquire proper target locks. There's a damned reason why I'm anal about electronic warfare. If you force the other to react to you, if you refuse to relinquish the initiative, they'll always be one step behind. Even technologic advantages can be nullified, otherwise I wouldn't have that big, fat Kra'lagh dreadnaught painted on my prow. Kola is a good Admiral,' he continued, turning back to the display, watching the counter slowly approach zero. 'But...' he grinned violently, making Cindy realise that this was a side of the Admiral that no report could ever adequately capture. The primal predator. The undefeated genius who led the renowned Nemesis. The man who was mad enough to launch his entire fleet at the enemy and counted on catching them off guard enough to slip through a fleet that outnumbered him by a murderous margin.

'I am better.'

Thousands of ships hurled blindly alongside one another. Just before Goodnight had commenced the Imperial formations had tightened up even more, the battleships slotting in damn close behind the leading dreadnaughts and every other vessel hiding even closer behind him, taking shelter should the unlikely happen. Under the cover of thousands of missiles, the entire salvo worth billions of credits nothing more than a simple distraction, they had assumed new positions, veering away from the Novican cross formations and aiming for the gaps in their line. Now, with both sides wholly incapable of relying on anything other than optical sensors, which were surprisingly useless given that the average ship wasn't larger than a microscopic dot, the Imperials were simply passing through Lebriski's forces without a fight. Occasionally an enemy would be spotted and whatever captain had spotted it would gnash his teeth, wanting nothing more than to fire on the unsuspecting prey but having to hold back. Opening fire would reveal their own location and nearly every Imperial ship was packed in such a tight-knit formation that even near-misses would hit something. Nearly every ship meant, of course, that some were not sheltering within the arrows.

Where the larger Imperial warships that were barrelling through the void, relying on their pitch black exterior, the constant jamming and the massive radiation bleed-off from the dirty missiles to hide them from sight, were forced to sit still and patiently wait for the timer to run out, the Rogue-class Corvettes were tearing through space in formations of their own, centred around a single Spy-class Corvette, which had massively enhanced optical sensors. Thrusters were firing wildly, putting near unsustainable amounts of stress on the small vessels. Supports and struts groaned as the inertial dampeners struggled to bring some measure of relief while the strapped in personnel was fighting off enormous g-forces in a desperate bid to stay conscious. Unlike their larger brethren these ships were charging straight into the enemy cross formations, their drive wakes too small to be spotted.. Even tightly knit formations still had plenty of gaps and Imperial corvettes were notoriously hard to spot in the best of circumstances. They were also considered damned expensive, oversized missile boats.

Enacting phase Major Headache, a plan as simple in name as in theory turned out to be a lot harder to execute. They had locked in their enemy's location perfectly just before the fleet-wide black-out had commenced and were now trying to position themselves blindly, praying that they wouldn't slam headfirst into an enemy ship. Thrusters were overloading themselves, on the verge of blowing themselves to kingdom come as they tried to reorient the ship a full hundred and eighty degrees. Some ships were unlucky.

Captain Nevral saw the enemy corvette blink into existence and could only utter a single expletive before the ensuing crash wrecked both ships beyond recognition. Half a million kilometres away Captain Danau ran into a similar issue, except he was rammed by an enemy battlecruiser. The shields of the larger ship's shield withered the impact well. A few generators were overloaded from the sudden drain and exploded, but other than being shoved aside the battlecruiser showed no sign of having run through an enemy ship. Captain Lacrue had more time to react as she saw the gargantuan dreadnaught change from a tiny dot in the distance to a frighteningly large and menacing figure. Rather than spend her final moments voicing every curse that she had at her disposal, something she would have lacked the time for anyway, she chose to fire every missile she had while ordering the thrusters to shunt power in a new direction. Half of the internal lines blew up from overpressure a moment later, but the corvette was send tumbling upwards, if such a thing existed in space. The dreadnaught went from frighteningly large to impossibly huge, but they were no longer dead centre. There was impact and the smaller vessel's shields simply evaporated on contact before their Novican counterpart sliced into the corvette's superstructure. Sparks lit up the dark of the void as the energy field burned through metres of hull. Internal systems jumped to life and forcefields snapped in place, sealing the pockets of air inside the ship. What sailed past the dreadnaught was less than half of the corvette, but the engines had survived, albeit with major damage. Flag-lieutenant Bast, now in charge of the ship on account of the bridge no longer existing, ordered a general blackout to remain in place until further order and prayed nobody would bump into them until the fight was over. They were mission kill and out of the battle.

Seven corvettes were unlucky and did not survive the high intensity manoeuvring. One made it out with half a ship but no engines and dozens of others suffered damage that forced them to abandon Major Headache, but the vast majority took up their position and waited, hoping that the enemy had not moved while relying on the Spy-classes to steer them to the right location. The Corvettes still had a limited amount of communications left to them; as long as they stayed in formation the Spy-classes would send them tight beam messages, highly encrypted and vulnerable to being physically intercepted, but given the current situation the enemy wouldn't have the time to act upon it if even they were to be discovered.

Aboard the Aspera Verloff longingly stared at the counter as it approached zero. Admiral Cindy saw him take a deep breath as the final digit ticked away. As one Nemesis sprang into life, the jamming falling by the wayside as thousands of ships switched to active targeting and the display flared to life as new telemetry poured in. The arrow formations were opening up, battleships' drives burning brightly and turning night into day as the formations widened. Cruisers, light and heavy alike filled in the gaps while corvettes locked onto their targets or cursed as they discovered that their expected enemy was no longer there. Verloff waited ten seconds. Ten seconds during which the display told him everything he needed to know as Nemesis reawakened and reoriented themselves.

Idrina and her second wave having come closer than anticipated. Lebriski and his first wave sailing further away from them in tightly knit formations. His own formations fanning out rapidly and setting up interlacing fields of fire, preparing kill zones and rapidly acquiring targets and calculating firing solutions. Then, as the telemetry expanded, he saw enemy strike forces barrelling down on his position. He grinned. Too little, too late. They were too far away to stop him now and with his Brawler-class Battlecruisers taking up flanking positions all around they'd be hard pressed to rupture his formations. And he still had a surprise of his own to play. He was more concerned about the enemy strikes forces that were further away, obviously hunting for the logistical units. He couldn't afford losing them and while his frigates could put the hurt on the enemy strike forces, their losses would be unacceptably high, not to mention that Lebriski could easily divert some of his forces to wipe the unarmed freighters and support ships out to the last.

Those were concerns for later and he would have to trust Lessirk to deal with them. His Vice-Admiral had been beyond furious when he had been ordered to hang back with the logistical fleet rather than be a part of the main battle line, and the absence of his trusted second-in-command was painful and quite risky, but the man was capable and damn inventive and the survival of the logistical fleet was paramount. For now he was going to enjoy the fireworks as Major Headache began to unfold. He motioned Cindy closer and pointed at his corvettes.

'Aren't they really close behind Lebriski's forces?' she asked, audibly concerned. Something about the display seemed off to her... 'Wait a second, aren't they facing the other way around?' she asked incredulously. Verloff nodded. Many of them were going to die, a harsh but vital sacrifice. He hated sending them to their deaths and his men knew it, which made them fight all the harder. They understood the necessity of their deaths, were told of their essential purpose in the grand plan and they accepted the risks and likely outcome with a loud cheer.

'I can summarise this entire strategy in a single word,' Verloff explained, his wrinkled features contorting in what was his most predatory look to date. He dramatically lifted up a single arm and pointed towards the planet, where his counterpart was undoubtedly beginning to catch on to his plans, completely unable to prevent what was about to happen. He grinned.

'Gotcha.

Ten seconds had ticked by since Good Morning had begun. Now he motioned for communications to put him on a fleetwide broadcast, unencrypted and loud enough to reach even the planet. He took in a deep breath, relishing every moment of it and Cindy realised a moment too late that the rest of the bridge crew had either put on ear protection or were covering their ears with their hands. She connected the dots a fraction too late.

'WE ARE NEMESIS!' he bellowed, the words echoing in the bridge as well as across the fleet, the elite battlegroup officially announcing their presence.

The corvette captains recognised the shout as the signal to begin Major Headache and opened fire, well and truly earning their title as oversized missile boats as they emptied their launch tubes, reloading them as quickly as their efficient crews allowed, pumping out salvo after salvo of heavy anti-capital missiles, the real deal this time. Lebriski reacted swiftly, barking out orders to shoot down the blasted corvettes, but the tiny ships were hiding right behind his dreadnaughts and battleships, the large vessels' own drive wakes distorting their targeting profiles. Lebriski howled in rage when an officer reported as such, wasting precious seconds, before screaming back to just fire blindly. The difference in training began to show as panic and confusion rippled through the vessels of the first wave and escorts and capital ships alike responded to the order in staggered groups rather than a single, cohesive unit. In the time it took for the first firing solutions to be plotted the missiles struck.

They tore into the rear compartments of the line ships, smashing through armour plates as they ignored shields and drilling their way deep inside the much larger ships' superstructures or simply diving headlong into the enemy engines, thick alloys and high velocity prolonging the warheads' life just enough to drive them deep into the massive systems. Battleships shuddered and dreadnaughts groaned, more and more missiles hit their targets and Lebriski lost all sense of control as engineering flooded the bridge with damning status reports. 'You fucking idiots!' he bellowed, spotting the enemy corvettes falling back, their jammers reactivating as they tried to hide from his sight. 'Deal with the damage but for fuck's sake! Open fire! Obliterate the bastards!'

Finally the fleet began to obey him, but the response was ragged and divided, allowing the nimble ships to dodge a fair share of the incoming shots. Some of the Novican ships tried to turn around, only to have to forcefully adjust their course when they realised they were too closely packed to do so without crashing. Most of the battleships and dreadnaughts opened fire with their rear armaments, but the heavy guns struggled to track the nimble warships, even as their ECM burned through the meagre jamming the smaller ships threw up. The counterfire still demanded its toll and Verloff grimaced as he saw his corvettes' signatures wink out by the dozens. They performed daring manoeuvres, rolling over, throwing themselves sideways, overloaded their reactors and redlined their engines in a desperate bid to escape the fiery retaliation that Lebriski's fleet was dishing out. Their drives were too stressed and damaged to make another sharp turn and they had been right behind the powerful fleet. The moment they left the relative safety of the drive wakes they became easy targets. Dozens became hundreds and Verloff groaned in pain as he felt the casualties soar up. Names flashed through his head. Defiant, Lucky Strike, Vulnerable, Heroic Charge, Lexington, Spearhead, Blaster, Carballa, Nerval, … The list went on and on and every name signified hundreds of brave men and women who were dying in droves to smash home his strategy. There were no cries for help over the coms, just defiant last stands as some vessels threw themselves in the way of incoming fire to save their healthier brethren, buying them precious seconds at the cost of their own lives.

Then a Novican destroyer hit a plasma mine and a spectacular gout of fire burned through shield and hull alike, melting a large hole in the ship's superstructure. New orders were shouted in a hurry as more escorts ran into mines, a little gift he had left behind earlier, courtesy of well over a hundred of mine layers he had nicked from the logistical fleet. The mines weren't magnetic, weren't expensive, lacked any internal sensors and were ridiculously ineffective because an enemy would literally need to sail into them to set them off, which was a rare occurrence in space. They were also damn useful because their lack of electronics made them virtually invisible to anything except optical sensors and then only if you paid attention, something the Kra'lagh had learned the hard way and the Novicans were about to receive the same, expensive lesson.

For Verloff the mines weren't there just to damage or destroy the Novican vessels, but also to take the pressure off his corvettes. He had counted on the Novicans being less efficient than his own crew and while Lebriski wasn't a bad officer, he was static and slow to deal with multiple situations at once. He immediately switched his focus away from the corvettes and onto the mines, which was technically the right thing to do as the corvettes were spent anyway and no longer had the ability to threaten his fleet, but to the elderly Imperial Admiral all that mattered was that more of his men would live. He was glad that Kola didn't lead from the front. That man wouldn't have made the mistake of switching one target for another, not when both could be achieved simultaneously.

In the end he left five hundred and thirty-eight corvettes behind. Most of them utterly destroyed, but a fair number still had small pockets of survivors that were tenaciously clinging to life within the wrecks. He would be back for them. That he promised, both to himself and to the men and women waiting for the battle to be concluded. In return the enemy battle line had been crippled. Not destroyed, not mission kill, but crippled and eliminated as a tactical threat for a good while. A minor, but necessary victory, bought in blood.

He switched his attention to the fight ahead of him, ignoring Lebriski's fleet. The Novican capital ships were out of control, their engines blown to bits rendering the juggernauts unable to manoeuvre. Neither could he pull away his escorts, not with the mines all around. Not that the man would. Leaving several hundred battleships and dreadnaughts without proper escorts was inviting disaster and his fleet had already been precariously light on those to begin with. He focused on Idrina, who communications reported was having a bit of a crisis at present. She still had more than two hundred battleships and eighteen dreadnaughts, but where Lebriski was a proper military officer, Idrina was a political pet and incredibly inexperienced to the burden of frontline command. Having painted her flagship with several hundred target locks hadn't improved the woman's mood. He could imagine Kola fuming on the planet below, unable to influence the battle much and trying to get through to his admirals. Lebriski was out for a while and would keep his fleet together, so Idrina would have to fend on her own. She was closer than he'd like, which was annoying. Their fleets were near equal in size, though, well, not counting the corvettes, but those strike forces and carriers nearing him were going to be a bit of a pain in the ass.

The first fleet had been bypassed. The second lined up. The warm up was over and the actual battle was about to begin. 'Commence Lethal Fart. Execute Aggressive Sunscreen. And Hammers?' he asked, his face contorting with a bloody grimace. 'Do a barrel roll.'

They had paid the toll. It was time for the Novicans to return the favour.

Nightmare switched the lights back to normal immediately after finishing her sentence, immediately realising her mistake, but it had been too little, too late. Onoelle, frightened out of her mind by the AI's stellar performance took a small step back and lashed out with a punch that would see the human's fist shattered against the forcefields being used to solidify the hologram. The AI briefly admired how much of Mentuc's training had taken hold on his wife. If you can't escape, go down fighting and do as much damage as you can. Really, it was rather impressive how quickly the human had taken to concepts that were alien to civilians in general.

The forcefields dissipated even as Nightmare pulled the hologram back, moving at the speed of a normal human. She 'narrowly' dodged the punch and vaulted over the bench, splashing loudly in the water as the fields snapped back in place, pushing the liquid aside.

I'm sorry! she shouted as the human advanced on her, murder visible in Onoelle's eyes while her higher cognitive functions were still resetting.

Fascinating, she thought. She had never been able to interact with humans a lot aside since she'd become an AI, aside blowing them up as a hidden goddess of wrath. To deal with them in a non-hostile manner, Onoelle's current behaviour notwithstanding, was a new thing for her. Despite her massive database and ability to run calculations and simulations through her synthetic mind, they remained delightfully hard to predict. Personally she had found her joke hilarious. Given how she was forced to retreat from her position and dash through the large bath to get away from her superior's wife, Onoelle did not share that opinion.

To be wrong without people dying. That's new, she laughed. Not out loud of course. She decided to try something and slowed down just enough to let the raging woman catch up on her. With a furious warcry Onoelle jumped through the water with remarkable accuracy and crashed onto the holographic Nightmare. To the AI it was incredibly amusing. The hologram wasn't her, but to Onoelle it was a clear target. She meticulously manipulated the internal shield generators that were common in Imperial warships in order to let the forcefields move as if the hologram was an actual body. The alternative was letting a human crash into something meant to stop the ship's internal from being sucked out into the vacuum of space.

Down she went, with a raging Onoelle on top of her, who immediately went for the kill with a quick jab to her throat, then began strangling her for good measure. Nightmare let the hologram go limp, which didn't deter Onoelle much, but slowed her down enough to let her mind catch up with her body. The human's eyes narrowed as she looked down at the hologram, before rolling off.

'You utter, utter bitch,' she said, climbing to her feet. 'That was not funny.'

I personally thought it was hilarious. A deal with the devil, the soul claiming, funny if a bit cliché, countered Nightmare.

'I should've known I couldn't trust you.'

That stung. Hey, come on now, the AI defended herself. Just because I made a bad joke doesn't mean what I said earlier was any less true. I thought humans bonded through displays of comedy, even if they come at one another's expense?

'You crossed a line,' she hissed, wringing the water out of her hair.

There were a few seconds of silence as the AI somehow transmitted the idea that she was frowning. Do you think that was crossing a line? she growled. Do you genuinely think that such a meagre performance is crossing a line? The hologram walked over to Onoelle, who held her ground, eyes still ablaze with anger of her own and matching Nightmare's. Do you want to see what would happen if I actually tried to scare you? I'd run you out the ship like a drowned rat, naked and screaming for help. I'd render you insensate with fear! I'd give you nightmares for decades!

There were no tricks, no manipulation of sound or lights, but the raw, genuine pissed off-ness that Nightmare was radiating made Onoelle shiver, something she knew the AI picked up on. Still. 'Fuck you,' she stated, holding her ground against a being that terrified the galaxy. 'Just because you can do so much more doesn't mean that what you did was tolerable.' She tucked some rogue strands behind her ear before throwing the AI a scathing glance. 'You crossed a line, Nightmare.'

Silence reigned for a brief moment. You said my name, whispered Nightmare, sounding surprised.

'I... what?' asked Onoelle, the non sequitur throwing her off balance.

You said my name, replied the hologram, an astonished look on its face. You called me Nightmare. You used my name. You've never done that before. You stopped viewing me as a monster. The AI sounded genuinely touched.

Onoelle mulled that over, shoving her rampaging emotions aside and setting herself down in the water. Nightmare wasn't behaving like normal, that much was obvious.

I... the once Genesis began, seemingly lost for words. I am sorry. Truly. Onoelle blinked in surprise and looked up. The hologram was staring at its own feet in shame. I did not mean to scare you. I just wanted to give you a little fright.

'You're… sorry?' Onoelle asked, incredulously. Nightmare was an AI, a Genesis solder and she was Nightmare on top of all that. She didn't do sorry.

Is it that hard to belief that I can feel remorse? The AI gave a rueful smile. Don't answer that, please. I don't need to run simulations to know how you'll answer, given what you think of me.

'What are you up to?' she begun, then shook her head. 'What are you really up to?'

The hologram strode through the water until the reached the edge of the bath, then stepped straight through it. It didn't seem to be a conscious action, which spoke volumes. You remember when he told you about our first mission? Infiltrating the Kra'lagh dreadnaught?

'I remember. Freshly born, barely trained and immediately tossed into the roles of saving the Empire. And you made it out with remarkably few losses given the opposition you faced.'

Yes, whispered the AI. Our trial by fire. Go forth, Genesis. Save the Empire. Turn the tides of war. Be our heroes and do what we created you for. So we did. All of us. The hologram turned to face Onoelle, the six lenses unnaturally still. Except for him. He broke his conditioning. Stepped into incoming fire when every tactical analysis told differently. He saved a life even though he damaged himself. He likely would have saved more if he hadn't. He shouldn't have done that. Not from a tactical point of view. Not from a logical point of view. Not from a humanitarian point of view. And certainly not from our point of view. There was genuine wonder and consternation in Nightmare's voice.

And yet he did. Even now, with all that I am, with all that I can, I don't understand it. She tilted her head and approached Onoelle, a hungry look on her face. Do you know how frustrating that is? I know him. Fought, bled and died beside him. We were in the same battalion. The same company. The same platoon. The same squad. I was standing beside him when he shielded the human. I covered him when his shields went down. Kicked him aside just enough to keep a plasma shot from killing him. And I do not understand. I never did. None of us did. Even now part of him remains a mystery. I can understand a Genesis. I can understand the concept of guilt, remorse, responsibility, emotion, I can understand it, feel it, LIVE it! The hologram was towering over her, the embodiment of an overpowering, dominating entity. Then Nightmare seemed to collapse in on herself.

But I can't understand him. Not all of it. I want to know. I need to know. But I can't. It is beyond my scope. The AI pulled back a little. Yet you know. You, a fragile, limited, simple human somehow grasps the very thing I desire with whole my synthetic heart. And you didn't search for it, didn't question. You simply walked into his life, joined your fate to his and nestled within his heart. You are not Genesis, cannot fight, in so many ways you are so much less than what he and I are. Yet why is it then that you…

She turned away, unable to keep looking the hologram in the eyes. She didn't believe this was a trick. A hidden plan on Nightmare's part with a purpose so far beyond her that she couldn't even grasp the basics of it. This was Nightmare pouring her heart out, laying bare her deepest feelings. It was frightening.

The two stood motionless or a good while, both deeply lost in thought. Onoelle was surprised to discover that she wanted to help Nightmare. The AI's earlier behaviour combined with this outburst had, either on purpose or by accident, made her view the female Genesis more as a sentient being rather than a monstrous entity. She thought of all the times the AI had tormented her, how much Nightmare hated her and found that it didn't seem to matter so much less after the emotional downpour. In front of her was a pitiable creature, someone who had tried to support the one person who mattered in her life and not once had succeeded to get closer to him, to understand him. She placed herself in Nightmare's shoes, applied the situation to how her relation with Mentuc had grown and shuddered in horror.

'You are not human,' she whispered softly, gingerly placing a hand on the hologram's cheek.

I'm aware, came the snarled response, something Onoelle ignored. Nightmare had laid her emotions bare, revealing a raw wound to the world. She had expected a hostile reaction and gently shook her head, dismissing whatever notion the AI had in her mind.

'Your emotions were gained. You took them from others, from experience, from compiling codes, if I had to guess. But they're not native to you. Emotions grow from a seed within. When fed by life they start to expand, to break the surface and take in what they so desperately need.' It wasn't the best of metaphors, but it was the only one she could think of that reasonably explained what she meant. 'View a human as being born with two seeds, both integral to their character. One seed represents the emotions. The other represents the mind. Call that what you want, logic, if you so wish. Both seeds grow as we live. Our roots expand and flowers grow from them. The two together form the bouquet that is our character. Then there is Genesis. Born with only one seed. That is you. The seed grew into a flower, roots supporting it from underneath. It is beautiful and large, but it lacks the vibrant colour that you get when you combine both. Then you acquired emotions. A second flower appeared, just as beautiful as the first. The bouquet was complete.' She gave the AI a sad smile. 'But you never had the second seed. They are not innate to you. They are not a part of who you are, deep down. You can predict emotions based on stress levels, psychological events, experience even as you have countless samples to draw from. That natural affinity that comes instinctual to humans is what you lack.'

She took a small step back and gestured towards where she assumed Mentuc was. 'Him, on the other hand, had both seeds from the start. A damaged, wounded version of it perhaps, but he had it none the less. But no matter how much it was fed, how much he suffered, how much pain he went through, it never flowered. The roots grew and slowly but surely began strangling the other seed even as that flowered. It was killing him, step by step. Something he could neither see nor explain. He could only feel it and suffered all the more because of it.' Her smile broadened. 'That is where I come in. I can help that seed breach the surface. I am slowly, nourishing it.' She gave a sad smile. 'Or attempting to at least.'

Even as a hologram the Genesis soldier was taller and more broad then her, but now Nightmare suddenly seemed small, if not tiny. Onoelle felt a shiver run through her body. Part of her knew this was a unique moment as she looked at the woman Mentuc had shared so much of his life with, yet had never managed to understand him. Her heart wept for the AI.

Can you teach me? Nightmare whispered, the voice coming from the hologram rather than the ship. Can you help me grow roots the way you helped him grow flowers?

Onoelle nodded.

The conversation shifted away after that. Nightmare knew that Onoelle would need time to think it all over before attempting anything, so she redirected the conversation to new grounds. She had known Mentuc for centuries, watched over him with more than just human senses and knew a lot about him that Onoelle loved to hear. If the human felt it weird to be gossiping with an AI over her husband, she did not show it.

The conversation was light hearted enough for Onoelle's mind to run free during it. She remembered her old professor teaching her. Humans were defined by their desires. They may be conscious, directed, subconscious or instinctive in nature, but in the end if you could nail down the main desires of a person, you could begin to grasp them. It was the same definition that made psychopaths so difficult to analyse. They had no constant desire and what they wanted shifted so rapidly it was impossible to predict them. Nightmare, however, wasn't exactly a psychopath, but she wasn't even a human to begin with. She was so much more and infinitely more complex, but in the end she too was defined by her desires, as alien as they might be.

She wondered how it came to be that Nightmare had, in an incredibly short span of time, gone from the most frightening creature in existence to someone she would call... Not necessarily a friend, but an acquintance she was on good terms with. Artificial Intelligences were the stuff of nightmares and many horror stories were based on the true tales of the sapient computers going rogue. None of those people had ever met one, of course. That was another rule of psychology. It easy to fear and hate the unknown and the faraway, but so much more difficult to do the same to people you knew intimately. It was human nature to sympathise with wounded souls in their direct vicinity. While the origins of that instinct could be traced back to the prehistory, it had further been influenced by millennia of social conditioning.

Her own metaphor had also given her an unexpected insight in Nightmare's psychology. The AI had, for all her knowledge and the countless databases she had access to, no positive, direct experiences with humans. Sure, she could draw from sample sizes of unprecedented scale, something Onoelle was intensely jealous of. It was a small hole in the near-godlike being's defence, but not an insignificant one. It meant that Nightmare couldn't predict her nearly as well as she had feared when she kept herself together. Her former opponent had drawn a lot more on sensors to read and 'predict' her than she had previously assumed. That realisation caused a bit of a grin. Turning Nightmare into a normal human who had all the abilities of a supercomputer, as opposed to the mythological Artificial Intelligence from the underworld also made getting along with the once-Genesis easier.

'I've got a question for you.'

I would assume you have several. Thousand, countered the AI with a smile.

'Fair enough,' Onoelle conceded with a laugh.

To answer a few preemptively, I might have performed part of my theatrics in order to improve our relationship. I hope you do not see that as malign manipulation?

Onoelle laughed again. 'Scaring the crap out of me is your way of improving our relationship?'

The hologram grinned. It worked, didn't it?

Onoelle softly punched Nightmare's shoulder.

Secondly, your roots and flowers metaphor got the message across, but I still found it incredibly silly.

She punched the AI's shoulder again, harder this time.

To continue, I use this hologram as an avatar. It further humanises me. To answer how in the stars it is solid rather than light we need to look into my military hardware. Imperial ships have a specialised version of shield generators installed internally that project forcefields rather than genuine shields. They're laughably weak and won't protect against virtually any form of anti-ship weaponry, but the fields they generate are easily manipulated, require very little power and can keep pockets of air sealed in place. Similarly, I can use them to create an avatar. What you're seeing and talking to isn't a hologram. It's a collection of forcefields. She tilted her head. Well, with a bit of hologram added into it. Forcefields aren't visible to the naked eye.

'Oh,' said Onoelle, deflating slightly. 'So you're just wiggling those fields abound to simulate lungs and a physical body?'

This time it was Nightmare's turn to laugh. Wiggling fields about is an awfully inaccurate way to describe the constant, microscopic changes I make to the forcefields. It's a marvel of technology and I'm honestly showing off with it.

Onoelled nodded. 'Wiggling things. Got it.'

Nightmare returned the earlier given punch. To answer your next question that you have subtly been evading, yes.

Are you distracting Mentuc? The AI had predicted her perfectly. If left to his own devices he moved at his usual sense-defying speeds. He ought to have been here by now. She arched an eyebrow. 'How, pray tell, are you keeping my husband from coming to check up on me then?'

By telling him I am still talking to you and don't wish to be disturbed.

'Ah. Right. I sometimes forget he is simple like that.'

Don't worry, I'll leave you in peace soon enough to cavort as you wish. The AI ignored the stuttered response that Onoelle tried to formulate while blushing furiously and barged on. We have things to discuss. Business-things. I am glad that we are now on better terms than before and that my presence is tolerable, amicable even, but there are still some unresolved issues that I wish to discuss. She gestured to a part of the wall in front of her and a screen popped into life, undoubtedly more holographic technology.

'I thought your holograms were limited to the bridge?' asked Onoelle, suddenly feeling vulnerable again as she realised just how many sensors the AI had in this room.

They are normally, but I custom built this room. I do hope to lure you here more often and I have a vast selection of media at my disposal. Not to mention, Nightmare continued, clearly proud of herself, I can make anything on the fly and I am a lot better than most of those third rate directors when it comes to making movies. Anyway, you know what I'm referring to. Stop stalling.

The AI's smile faded and she assumed a serious expression.

Jane can only be convinced by facts. Facts I want to give her, through you. She held up a small black box and Onoelle felt her liver fold in on itself. This contains the footage of how our assault on Lufer went. From our way to the planet, waiting in the dropships, through the landing on the planet itself, the entire subsequent assault and, in the end, the hurried evacuation. It is filmed from my perspective. I added some scenes that offer a broader perspective based on my awareness of the battle in general and the reports that went out through our network, but most of it is simply genuine first person footage.

Nightmare looked at Onoelle, holding out her hand with the box in it.

As far as facts go, there is nothing more direct, blunt and effective as this. You cannot recreate anything of this scale. This will rock her world in more ways than one. It is a gift, from me to you. I hope you will take it. Partially because of personal reasons, I will not omit that from you, but I also hope you will take it because you will see Dreamer as our commander. You will see him use us as a weapon. You will see him crush enemy resistance.

The avatar blinked slowly.

And you will see him order us to die.