[Fringe world- Remnants of Union Base: 33rd Lines]

[Two full Planetary rotations after Emergency-landing]

…

Syzah didn't like their new pet.

As it crunched the soil beneath its metal claws and heavy frame next to him, the mechanized unit occasionally scanned a look in his direction. An act which always seemed to cause the hairs on his body to itch. Syzah didn't care that the unit had obeyed all commands given to it, or that it had let Sonat plug in every monitoring device she could think of to test it.

This was a matter of trust, and he had very little.

When something chases you down a hallway covered in blades, you don't simply recover from the incident like it never happened. There is no "going back to normal" after such an event, and void help him: in his state of mind, he could barely trust the cleaning bots they'd been using recently.

At least the mechanized unit had repaired the giant hole in the hall outside of the bridge, and then set itself to work on several of the broken hall gates. All of those had been a necessity if they were ever going to find a way to take off again. Hull integrity was reliable based on the scans, but they had to be absolutely certain of it, as their landing was not gracefully maneuvered and had run the lower hull around [8000 Units] along the planet surface.

Nobody wanted to get into orbit, only to find that half the crew had suffocated along the way. That wasn't how great Shipmasters made a name for themselves.

Not that they had a great Shipmaster, presently.

Yitale and the human were gone. Spirited away by the escaping Union vessel during a sudden exchange of gunfire. But, as Syzah went about his responsibilities, it almost felt as though they were still somewhere in the ship. The human's presence of unstoppable strength, and Yitale's...

Dedication.

For she had been thorough as ever. Even before they had gained fame and recognition, Yitale had clearly taken precautions for everything she could afford. The two sets of FTL drivers, aging or not, were a huge safety net. In addition to spare scrap material she had stashed away for repairs and her stubborn approach of cross-training almost every senior member of the crew...

So much of the planning required had already been taken care of, but without Yitale to hold it all together, Syzah felt it was overwhelming- daunting even. How had she done it, when his father died? She'd barely been gone a few rotations, and he was already struggling.

The scaled cloak was much heavier than Syzah had ever realized.

Honestly, life on the trade-ship was a mess, and Syzah found himself in the precarious situation of being in charge of all of it. Certainly he and Sonat had been training for this their entire lives, but it was still too soon for comfort.

Yitale, his mother... she had always been removed, distant, and unapproachable. At least, she had as long as Syzah could remember. The death of their father had been crippling in that sense, and from then on she had seemed far away. There were certain occasions that had made him forget this, but they were rare, and in the end her attention always seemed to come down to the contracts, and the survival of their vessel.

She was still the parental figure who guided them, but always for a purpose, and not for the sake of affection.

Syzah knew that both he and Sonat had acclimated accordingly. They were both studious, and they both rushed at a chance to prove themselves. Sonat, clearly, with far greater success than himself- always diving into the internals of the vessel, where the intricate and abstract ruled. Whatever she took an interest in, she succeeded at.

Syzah, on the other hand, had struggled simply to learn the roles he might need to fill. His day to day was the life and flesh of the ship. He knew that he was no genius, but he was capable, and as the cycles piled on, his wealth of knowledge kept growing.

Now, though, rather abruptly- he found himself without guidance. Sonat knew less than he did when it came to planning ahead, as she was far more prone to rushing straight on, to the next puzzle or question that caught her attention. Even if it was something he had always prided himself on being competent at, now that it matter- without some form of a map, or a direction to go, Syzah felt awkward.

Where did they go from here?

The bridge crew, and the senior members of the crew had all discussed at length, trying to pick which direction that would now be. When they found that even they were undecided, it fell to him.

A lot of things were falling to him.

Yitale was gone, but the human was with her- which Syzah knew was no small miracle. Yitale would likely be safe with him, or at least much safer than she would have been, had she ended up on that Union ship alone. Any physical threat would be greatly mitigated by his presence, but the true problem was that no one was quite clear on where that ship had gone, or how to find it. So, after much deliberation, he decided that would be his first step towards coming to a true decision.

They would locate Yitale, and follow after her.

It had seemed so much simpler when it was only in his head, and not being acted upon.

The external recordings of the combat were traumatizing enough to watch once, but they had rerun the things over a dozen times before the bridge crew finally managed to piece together that Yitale and the human had taken refuge in the defending Union vessel- which had then taken off.

The footage wasn't over, then, of course.

And if the opening act had been bad, the rest was downright awful. Enough so, that Syzah didn't like watching the next part of the footage with anything in his stomach.

From the HUD screen's display, they had watched in grim horror, as the monstrosity leapt off of the trade ship's upper deck to land among the attacking Union soldiers. Without the confining space of the ship halls to restrict its speed and movement, the unit had gone on a rampage that reminded Syzah of a propeller flying off of its axis in a field of jelly rations: a rather sharp propeller that spun and ricocheted, to cut through combat shields and anything behind them.

Their new pet needed to go, and soon.

That thought though, in turn, lead to the real problem: which was Sonat.

His sibling was obsessed with the machine.

After the battle, it had stopped moving, and Sonat had gone and started tinkering with it before anyone could think to stop her. Now, it was apparently listening to her commands, and she continued spouting off about the new things she had been discovering. Sonat kept telling everyone willing to listen that it was founder level tech, that it was above any beyond anything she had ever gotten to experiment with before.

Syzah had given up trying to talk sense into her, but he did try to remind her how many times the cleaner bots had needed to hose it down before they got rid of all the blood.

Which was three times.

For the record.

He supposed that what he was feeling was something akin to what Yitale had been feeling with the human. Only, instead of a living and breathing “Ship-beast” that could be reasoned with, he had some cold, silent, AI-driven machine. Which his recklessly intelligent sister, was commanding...

As best he could, though, Syzah went about his duties as normal, and kept his features calm as they assessed the damage, and made repairs. Their internal credit count on the ship currency bank was high- even after he paid the crew early to keep them calm. The older crew members took the recent events on in stride once they knew Yitale had made it out of the mess alive, but the newer ones were understandably skittish on the whole affair, and he couldn't really blame any of them. They were still stuck on the surface of this fracked-up planet, waiting for the dust to settle.

The atmosphere had been torn apart with several terrifying blast-waves orbit shortly after Yitale and the human had been spirited away by the losing side of the ground engagement. Though the dense cloud layers had likely insulated them to some degree, the results were a tremendous amount of ripple effects on the surface. If not for the shielding unit on the trade ship, there was a good chance that it could have stranded them permanently.

There were giants battling above. Union fleets fighting, be it against the consumption or one another, Syzah wasn't sure, but he knew their scarred vessel was nothing but a helpless bystander that would need to weather the storm. In that aspect, at least, they had fared better than their company: the grounded military ship.

Like most craft designed for military use, functionality was held at a priority, with a streamlined appearance, and no direct edges. Unlike the gargantuan box-like body of a trading vessel parked nearby, the military ship had an aura of speed and maneuverability, of evasiveness. When required the military generally wasted no expense.

Still, it wasn't meant for the beating it had taken. The blasts that a rippled through to the planet's tropospheric zone had been devastating to the vessel, and since that time its sheilds had never come back online. The heavy winds and pressure differences had thrown the lighter ship into the last remaining building of the base, smashing several of the thrusting units.

If that ship could still fly, getting to orbit would be the best it would hope for.

Syzah was certain the somewhere inside it, there was still a crew, but it had been on the planet for some time now, and there still wasn't a single sign of them. He'd asked the crew to keep monitoring it from the bridge for three rotations, so he was fairly certain of this.

As terrible as it was, truthfully, he hoped the Union soldiers were all dead. If they were all dead, getting into the bridge and tracking the communications of the military chatter would be a safe and manageable task. They could quietly leave, follow the ship that took Yitale, and find some way to negotiate her release.

Of course, with his luck they wouldn't be.

And his luck was terrible.

It was the reason he had an giant death-machine as an escort while he was leading the group of other volunteers willing to break into a Union ship.

Several Engineers were traveling with him on this occasion, each with a military gear salvaged from the mess in the breaching bay where they entered. If not for the sheer intimidating stature of an armored Rullah, and half a unit of combat veterans, Syzah was at least comforted by the fact that Di'her was also traveling in the group. For some reason Di'her was able to keep her cool in the most fracked-up situations. That was a very good trait- and one he hoped to possess himself... someday.

Preferable before he died.

Syzah took a deep breath, and collected his nerves, as he stepped up to the first entry-hall on the Union vessel. He might as well get it over with...

…

[5646-117]

5646-117 was beginning to feel... comfortable.

It had the functional knowledge to act under the influence of gravitational pull, but the reissuing of stabilizing commands was an interesting investment of power usage. The applicable methods for transitionally stored potential energy would also be a reasonable addition to its known procedures, and it was running simulations to use such options for combat situations.

5646-117 was also beginning to feel... interested.

Fascinated, perhaps.

Compared to the depth of empty space, there was so much more presently surrounding it. so many more things to consider. A Prime example was the security door ahead.

The initial sensory overlook defined it as an object of military grade composition, relying on information collected from ship military sync: Heavy alloy, magnetically thread for additional integrity.

Scans replaced with bio-analysis of crew crossing in front of his sensor threshold, with analysis of skeletal and tissue composition in real time. All readings were standard or nominal beyond the few elevated stress levels collected from combat suit sensors. Each unfamiliar species was quickly added to its library.

Many, though, did not align with the deceased enemy combatants which had covered the previous territory. Biological differences in anatomy, as well as extensive neural damage had been prominent- even before combat exercise. Last scans showed most specimens were now lacking in such organs and functionality- further analysis required for probably causes.

Process set to backcycle- pending.

Priority process- Entry: Activating Repair and maintenance interaction

5646-117 had received a command.

5656-117 had obeyed as instructed.

Now 5646-117 was receiving hundreds of commands from the context of the original.

It had even seen one of the few that whispered. The flesh, the voice, the command. It would comply and obey as instructed, and act in the focus of the greater goal. It was certain of it, for 5646-117 was a part of something now. No longer lost, it was a piece that had finally been played, a chip on the board. Motion, interaction, and purpose. These were what it had craved; what it had needed for so very, very long. It would follow the objective, and it would not question. This crew was under its protection now.

That order was absolute.

Still, there were other orders to consider, and priority had not been resolved as to which would pertain in a selection between them. 5646-117 had existed a long time, and observed much, but it simply did not know. If the circumstances were not kind, it would be forced to choose.

A creaking of metal on metal brought its sensors to pulse analysis, threat assessment, damage reports. Other processes could be cycled on a background function, of low priority. Such concerns were of little importance along the current exercise. Most prominent instruction had been clear.

The internal audio feed played the recorded message from previous interaction:

“Orders? Wait, you can spea- - - You know I'm a Human? What the fuc-” -Recording forwarded to direct command segment- “-you will Protect this crew. Protect this ship. Do not harm them.”

Command was clear. Escort of crew members into potential threat zone had stocked as priority.

Guard location while crew objective continues

Its core had set output to primed leveling, to be scaled for combat if necessary. Full diagnostic reporting had run through several calculations to improve performance of movement efficiency from previous engagement. Wasted reaction times, as well as inefficient maneuvers in several combat stances had been modified.

Crew member customization also had been confirmed as non-detrimental to function. Acknowledgment of analysis device and drivers- as well as simulated shield unit along inner torso over memory core. Crew member [ID: Sonat] had provided further functionality in respect to continuing objectives.

Performing bio-signature scan

Surviving Parasite count: _ 12_

…

Syzah flinched as the machine extended its massive limbs, sharp edges, and rotating pieces. Its clawed "hand" pieces, shifted and folded over to allow force a positioning of an ion thruster and area-restricting shield, which began to melt the door into some form of metallic putty.

It took less time than it did for Syzah to blink before the security seal had been reduced to liquid, and barely any time after that before the unit was prying the metal back upon itself. A neatly folded metal plate.

Each fold was easily [Three centimeters] thick.

It was becoming increasingly obvious to Syzah how the mechanized unit made it onto the freighter, prior to its discovery. This had been the FTL anomaly. It went through the ship's plated walls, floor... anything it wanted. All it had to do was weld them back in place.

It made his fur crawl, no two ways about it.

"It's not just you ship-leader." A voice spoke up. "That machine is utterly terrifying"

Syzah turned to see the Oxot engineer had stepped up to his side, as they drew their side arms with uneasy glances. His combat suit was set to transparent, and his natural coloration had begun to shift, slowly matching the surroundings of the entry way.

"So it is..." Syzah spoke in a quiet tone, as they filed in behind their massive escort to the inner halls of the ship. "Sonat says that she has it under control."

"I don't doubt that." The Oxot cleared the hall an instant after Syzah, as they advanced further in the dim lighting. "But that's a machine straight out of nightmares."

"I more than agree with you."

"HUD lights on!" The Rullah engineer towards the front of the group commanded in a gruff tone as it reared up slightly on its hind legs, to peer over a fallen duct which had broken free from the hall ceiling. "Ship power is cut in this next area, so watch your steps carefully."

Mild grunts of agreement rasped from the two Mintrok behind him, as their limbs slowly pulled their frames over the obstacle- with a surprising grace. In the light of his HUD, Syzah could make out several markings of Union service, before his view was blocked by a huge dish of mechanical sensors

"Size constraints further passage- awaiting further commands"

The voice was artificial, but proper Union Standard. An eerie combination, especially when slapped in combination with the flickering lights above.

"Awaiting further commands."

Syzah's comm system buzzed to life, breaking him from his, hopefully unnoticed, terrified stupor.

"Syzah, I sent it instruction to follow your lead- the military ship is interfering with our communications a bit, I already lost have the comm-lines for most of the engineers."

"I don't want command of this thing Sonat." His mutter was a low tone, not a melody at all.

"Well too bad. You're ship-master now, that comes with the job. Good luck in there." Her voice fell back to the low buzz of static before the comm-line fell silent again. Syzah flicked his HUD lighting on to external projection, and did his best to sound collected.

"Stay here and guard the passage."

"Command acknowledged."

Trying not to appear nervous, Syzah made his way past the monstrosity, and pulled himself over the vent, to land down with the rest of the crew. Behind him, the Oxot followed with a soft thump.

"Is this everyone?" Syzah scanned through, his HUD lighting activating the polarization of the crew helmets as his view passed.

Another thump behind him, as Di'her landed. "I was the last one over."

"Alright. We all know the plan. Get to the bridge, get the information, and get out."

He stared at their visors, unable to read much of any expression behind the now tinted helmets. Their postures seemed confident, ready. It was as if this wasn't much out of the ordinary for them.

Why should he treat it any differently?

"Let's do this."

...

[Wichita]

The halls were long, narrow, and dark. With each step, Rukkali found himself growing more desperate than the one before. Whatever thread of consciousness he was clinging to was slipping.

The nanites kept buzzing.

There was light every so often, in the passageways. Under that light was occasionally a non illumination form of direction, based on symbols Rukkali was only vaguely familiar with. The medical bay was close though, if that familiarity was to be trusted.

Some of the halls seemed to echo with unfamiliar sounds, or animistic cries. Often, Rukkali found himself wondering if those had gotten closer.

He wondered, but not for longer than the course of each step. One thing at a time. Priorities.

Medical Bay.

Hairs on his neck were rising, touching the air through the many shredded sections of his combat suit. He had to find it soon. Whatever this place was- safe did not describe it. These long corridors might as well have been a maze into the depths of the void; within them lay many things better left unfound.

Warily he stumbled into the next patch of illumination. The medical bay illuminated before him. He'd made it. They, had made it.

As he passed through the doors into the well lit room, he heard the scuffling of movement behind him. Lurking in the dark. Even in this state, Rukkali knew better than to look back at the eyes that stalked him. He simply shut the door, and cracked the manual lock to seal.

Priorities. One thing at a time. Food, and medical treatment. Nothing else mattered until those things were obtained.

It was in this tunnel vision, that Rukkali missed crucial details. Some, the very act of missing- could have been considered beneficial.

Knowing the full extent of the dangers in the halls would have been nothing but a source of stress, for which he could do nothing about, and knowing the true damage to his body would have provided him very little help.

Some others though, such as the blunt object- being swung at his head by a short, Fur-covered creature that happened to be standing on a tray table in front of him, could be considered a detriment.

It took him all of a single heartbeat to hit the floor.