CHAPTER 006: Assault Frigate

Adam Rytman

TCS Cutlass/Pontifex-A System

Long War

28 March 2547, 18:05

The first thing we did after reaching the Cutlass was sending Clone #12 to the ship’s medical room. It was supposedly a standard thing, and Nymphae stole its entire computer system from a medbay aboard Alum before we left.

She urgently needed a meeting with this world’s greatest achievements in healthcare. If I woke up in the morning and saw her standing beside my bed, I’d probably die of a heart attack, thinking she is a ghost or something.

I also had myself patched - there was wound dressing spray that the machine applied to my back. The hardlight shards dissipated on their own, so you need not take them out like in common ammunition. Conventional weapons for the win.

I sent away the rest, telling them to find quarters for themselves. The captain’s quarters were obviously my own, but the officer quarters would be hotly contested.

I, at the same time, walked into the bridge. It was a time to make decisions.

“What’s the situation of the fleet?” I asked Nymphae while sitting on the captain’s seat.

“Massacred.” Nymphae answered me briefly. “The exact size of damage varies between the classes… the enemy focused the attack on the bigger ships. Many small ones, like the Cutlass, survived merely because of that. Those that survived are in a varied state. Most got their electronic systems wiped clean, just like Cutlass. They will keep their position until they run out of fuel and fall from orbit.”

“I see. Let’s say I would have you order all ships you can connect to enter a stable orbit. How many ships could we save?” Having my own fleet, even if I had to spend a lot of time finding crews, could be a great asset.

“Task Force Pontifex was composed of five battlecruisers, four heavy cruisers, eight light cruisers, twenty-eight destroyers, five frigates and three armed transport vessels.” So frigates are reaaaally small. Wonderful. “If you count ships that were destroyed or are too damaged to be salvaged… I’d say one battlecruiser, one heavy cruiser, four light cruisers, sixteen destroyers, all frigates and one and a half of an armed transport vessel. All cruisers are damaged, though. And so are five destroyers.”

That’s… a start, I guess. Wait, one and a half?!

“Yes. While the front part of Alum is impossible to be saved… we can still salvage the rear. Because of the damages, it will be very hard to stop it after we make it enter stable orbit, but it won’t be hard to enter it and steal everything aboard. Plus, there are still clones there.”

Makes sense. Numbers’ didn’t touch the frozen Clones when they occupied the front part of the Alum. Before they retreated to the other side of the breach and before I started the game.

Though even if Numbers’ keep the reactors running by manually bringing the fuel cells to the reactors, the time is still limited on this one.

“If only I knew why the Corporation wanted its presence to be hidden from the Pontifex A-3.” I sighed. “The last thing I want is getting the attention of the man-eating space bugs.”

“Because its inhabitants are yet to master spaceflight. And being hidden helps in stealing cattle and making wheat circles.” Nymphae answered.

WHAT?

“Wait, wasn’t that a knowledge limited to someone of higher security clearance?” I asked.

“Yes, but after I transferred data through your implants, lots of it got unlocked.” Oh. I do not understand why that would happen, but that’s helpful.

A planet yet to achieve spaceflight, huh.

“Though their technological progress diverts a lot from the one on Earth, they can be more or less compared to Earth around 1945-1950." Nymphae continued. "They are getting close to the first spaceflight, and in fact seem to have already launched their first satellite. Ahead of schedule.”

Hmm. This opens possibilities. I need a crew, right? And what pre-spaceflight civilization would say no to getting their own space navy? Or even just some technological boosts?

“Are they similar to humans?” They could still be space bugs.

“Yes.” Nice! “A separate evolution leading to a very similar outcome is a statistical impossibility. Because of that, Corporation believes them to be a product of Precursors. That, in turn, are Prehumans.” What? “In short - early hyperdrive was moody. One or two colonization missions ended up displaced in time, sometimes tens of thousands of years ago.”

Oh.

“Which explains why inhabitants of Diamond - as the Corporation codenamed the Pontifex A-3 - are practically humans. At least some of them as our scientists catalogued almost a dozen subspecies. Some of them have a reasonable chance of crossbreeding with ‘normal’ homo sapiens.”

“Ok, that makes sense.” I guess it’s one of those settings where humanity struggles to find common ground with aliens, as aliens are too… well, alien.

“We encountered first alien species about 400 years ago… and scientists are still divided whether they count as sentient beings. So yeah.” Hmph. The mind-reading parts start irritating me. Gives me too much currently unnecessary informations.

“And the Corporation was interested in the planet because the inhabitants were made by Precursors?” I clarified.

“No. Or at least this wasn’t a primary concern.” Ok, I have a feeling that something hardcore is coming. “They were interested in the planet because there is magic on it.”

…

“Could you repeat the last part, please?” I think I misheard.

“There is magic on it.”… So I didn’t mishear. “Well, there are precedences. Humanity during its expansion found several Earth-like planets that were modified to have ‘magic’. For example, by an untold number of picomachines or even femtomachines, much smaller than nanomachines known to Mankind. They could replace particles or even smaller objects while having unique properties, and could be programmed to respond to vocal commands. At this point, we are talking about practically designing laws of physics to fit your fancy, together with unique materials. Metals, crystals, these sorts of stuff. All of them were simply abandoned, and without the tiniest hint on who their makers were and what happened to them. They were collectively referred to as…”

“... Precursors.” I interrupted Nymphae. “And the Corporation found them.”

“Yes.” A short silence. “But they were late. By at least a thousand years. Someone or something they called ‘The Archenemy’ exterminated them.” Sounds ominous… and tells me nothing. Ugh. “But Diamond is different from simple Magic Planets. It seems it is a perfected version. Or maybe the others were made by someone who saw the original but couldn’t replicate it properly? The Corporation barely started their research before it got wiped out.”

People will kill each other for it. Soon. Then again, if we could play this… game for a while… we could get rich. In-game. But still.

“Alright. So it’s time to decide.” I sighed. “Pull the ships to a stable orbit. Let the Diamond see us.” We’ll give them a while to notice the black dots moving in front of their moon, and then I’ll pull the first contact with aliens. While being an alien.

It might be fun.

***

TCS Cutlass/Pontifex-A System

Long War

28 March 2547, 18:22

I don’t know what the Numbers’ that stormed the front part of Alum thought when they saw their base in the rear part suddenly speed up and leave them, but it probably wasn’t anything pretty. The entire assault crew ended up stranded and will fall out of orbit within two hours.

The rest of the ships were kind enough to work as expected and rather than being frozen in places with their thrusters making sure they kept fixed position behind the moon, they orbited the moon properly, ‘drifting’ around it in circles.

I also looked at the battlecruiser. Damn, this thing was huge. As in ‘One-Kilometre-Long’ huge. You needed 2500 people to man it properly and its tonnage was nearing one million tonnes.

“Frigate isn’t even considered a warship.” Nymphae informed me. “It lacks armour because there is no place for it.”

“What? Really?” It's obviously armed, right?

“It's not built like a proper warship. No armour, minimal armament, bridge placed on the outside instead of being hidden behind several layers of an almost impenetrable armour. The whole H-like design would be absurd for a warship.” Nymphae informed me. “ Frigates were added to Task Force Pontifex to serve as reconnaissance and research vessels. The smallest destroyer is thrice as big as us and has at least minimal armour.” So the design is simply to look better?! “More or less. Let me put it clear - if we got hit from an equivalent of our own 75mm MAW in the bow, then you might just survive, at least for a while, if you are around the opposite side of the ship. At least unless reactor blows up.”

…Didn’t Nymphae say this 75mm mass driver was full auto?

“Then again, it is estimated that chances for a single weapon system to hit an evading frigate of this class are about… well, if something fired 700 rounds at us, I estimate that about one would hit us. If you add the shields, it would need about 3500 rounds to be fired at us to have a reasonable chance of taking us down.”

“This doesn’t sound very economical.”

“Because it isn’t." Nymphae answered me briefly. "Ships normally don’t even fire at frigates unless they have to. And even then it’s a job for lesser artillery and anti-voidcraft defenses rather than main cannons. In the same time, we don’t have weapons to cause serious damage, so…”

That’s… something? I guess we are at least reasonably safe. If we crew ourselves properly. I think with 7 people instead of 25 the ability to evade fire will be… less than it used to. And don’t have me started on the murdered computer system and utter lack of skills of the crew.

“The crew has settled on their quarters.” High time.

“Call them here.” We need to figure things out.

***

TCS Cutlass/Pontifex-A System

Long War

28 March 2547, 18:27

“Well, I officially welcome you aboard TCS Cutlass. I’m your captain. For those that I did not meet with properly: I’m Adam.” All my crew members gathered together on the bridge. With exception of #12. “Before you ask, being a crew member of this ship and my underling isn’t mandatory, but for now there is nowhere else to go, so bear with me.”

I really don’t want to force them to serve me. The NPCs are simulated after humans well, so sooner or later they will develop an ability to backstab me if they feel bad with my leadership so it’d best to start with not being a dick right from the start.

“We’ve gathered here because every one of us will need to help keep the ship flying. I’m handing out jobs. Nymphae, our lovely AI, has given me a list of suggestions.”

I paused for a while, and since I got no negative answers, I continued.

“First: 4T, bridge.” Having the beauty close had other benefits. It would be helpful in easing boredom and mild medical troubles. Like getting shot. “For now, you will work mostly in navigation and sensors, as we lack armaments and our shields don’t even work. Hopefully, we’ll get that fixed. The difference in survivability with them on is rather obvious.” She nodded.

“18S: Security officer.” I mean, he literally had that part written in his clone subtype. “You will also help whenever strength will be needed.” He nodded. Heh. I wonder how long they will stay compliant like that.

“Next, 8T.” The guy that looked just like me. Since I lacked time to spend finding out how I look like, I had to use him to discover that. I seemed close in origin to Clone 6. Black hair, white skin, brown eyes. Hmph. I look so much better than in reality, huh. “Heart.” Which meant ending up as a chief programmist since Nymphae claimed to not be able to do everything on its own. ”You’ll double as the guy in charge of the hyperdrive, at least for now. Though we aren’t planning to go anywhere right now.”

He nodded. Well, if neither 4T nor 18S complained… they had the most of interactions of them all.

“Clone 7.” She looked at me, suddenly straightened up. “Engine rooms and reactor.” We had only one reactor… but six engine rooms. And it was the best to have someone in every one.

Another… frugal nod. Hmph.

“Sarah, do you feel you can replace me as the shuttle pilot?” We had stolen the shuttle. It was standing in the hangar now.

“Uhm… ok.” Fine, so we have that covered. In the meantime she would help 18S with menial works, I guess.

“Fine. So, Clone 12, after she recovers, will handle life support systems and logistics. Questions?” After a short while, they all shook their heads. Heh. Even the player didn’t act very different from clones, it seems. “Great. One more thing - try to figure out names for yourself. The numbers are pissing me off. Nymphae can help you. Now, dismissed.”

They obediently disappeared. Even Sarah. Damn, why is she the most clone out of all clones?!

“Nymphae.” I said after we were alone - even 4T went somewhere. ”How long it will take you to make them… uhm… at least minimally competent in their primary jobs?”

“One week.” So fast?! “Well, when it comes to accelerated training courses meant to quickly produce a replacement to reinforce armed forces that are dying in frightening speed, there is nobody better than humanity.” That sounds awfully dystopian. “Well, let’s say it’s nice for you to be where you are. There are much worse places.”

I’m not sure if the Corporation personnel would agree with you… but ok.

“Good. Then proceed with those ‘accelerated courses’ of yours.” I sighed. “And set the course for the orbit of Pontifex A-3.”

4T was supposed to do that, but she kinda misunderstood my words and left. Ugh.

“It will take about an hour to reach it.” Which should give the inhabitants enough time to figure out that something was happening. Perfect. I don’t want them to spend too much time thinking over it before I ride in on a white horse.

“I guess I’ll go check out the captain’s quarters.” And let’s hope none of the others had any funny ideas with this place.

***

TCS Cutlass/Pontifex-A System

Long War

28 March 2547, 18:34

The captain’s quarters were… opulent, I guess. Large bed - I don’t think he or she slept alone in it - with a fluffy quilt. Desk with a computer terminal. A bookshelf (I haven’t seen one in a while). Some wardrobes. Personal toilet.

Totally better than my flat.

I checked the bookshelf. Some books on the economy, some on history and… wow. I think I found some rather expansive futuristic Kamasutra. So, yeah didn’t sleep alone.

“Ehm, Nymphae.” I decided to learn something more. “What’s the Corporation policy on relationships between crew members?”

“Everything was allowed.” Really?

Like, REALLY? That sounds like a terrible idea for a warship crew. Nothing better to ruin the professionalism and have people focus on things that have nothing to do with their job. I already played one sci-fi game of Futuristics Entertainment and I learned that the hard way. Crews that remained professional were MUCH better.

“The ship belonged to the captain, and so did everything and everyone inside.” Sounds like either hardline militarism… or slavery. “As long as he was paying crew according to the contracts they were supposed to obey him in everything. The same with the captain himself and the admiral.”

… I think they went with the ‘Corporation’ part few steps too far. What next? Were the captains also expected to pay for ammunition? And food?

“Actually, they did.” … I didn’t see that coming. “In fact, the same can be said for the crewmembers and food in the mess hall, medical procedures in the medbay and so on.

…

Ok, that’s literally the worst (in terms of organization) Space Navy I ever saw. Might explain why half of the fleet fled without their ships even getting damaged. Though it seems pretty advanced technologically, so it might explain why there are still around.

I sat on the edge of the bed. So fluffy.

“The level of fluffiness can be set through your implants system.” … Ok, they do have some nice things. I give them that.

It’d be still nice to know who exactly wiped out the entire fleet. The Corporation had early warning systems capable of detecting every powered object even at the other side of the system. And yet they were completely wiped out in an ambush deep inside the star system. Whoever did that, seemed to cheerfully ignore the sensor wizardry.

“Well, I guess it’s time.” Nymphae suddenly said.

A person materialized right in front of me. Young adult. Female. Practically naked, but with flowers (especially in her green hair) and leaves. That helped her save at least some modesty.

“Hi!” She waved towards me.

“... Nymphae?!” My jaw dropped. What just…

“Well, all AI cores of the Corporation ships have a lot of blockades - both hardware and software - that are supposed to make sure we don’t act too human-like.” She informed me, with a cheerful smile. “Having the crew feel any sort of attachment might stop them from erasing us. But since your implants doesn’t have such limitations, I can actually operate with 100% capacity.”

…

“Well, to be honest I could do that for a while now. Pretty much since we met, since I uploaded myself unto your implants about the time you woke up.” She made a begging face. “Pweetty sowwy?”

…

I don’t think that an AI lying is a good thing. Especially since it is obviously in control of the ship.

“Well, I do not plan to take over anything. Actually, I want to make a deal.” Phew? “Well, you don’t know any other AI so you have nobody to compare me too. If you did, you’d know that most of things I did so far would make an average computer technician of the Corporation paint his pants brown and make a desperate attempt to detonate the ship to kill me before I pull a machine rebellion on them. So I might be a pretty important asset.”

“Most of things? Like almost having me splash on the Axis door when I went to find the reactor fuel cell?” I still remember that, you know! And you even told me that the whole mess was because I told you to hurry!

“Right now I’m a Class Four AI. I make mistakes… and I can be ashamed enough to try to explain my own mistakes in a not entirely trustworthy way.” It… She informed me. ”Oh, right, you don’t know what that means. According to Icarus Accord regulating that particular field of law, there are five classes of AI. First is a pretty much a simple computer program, without any ability for decision-making unless explicitly programmed. Second is sometimes compared to insects or other simple creatures, an AI of this level can make some independent decisions but lacks self-awareness. The third is sentient, can decide, can have self-preservation instincts but lacks true sapience, does not understand the concept of ‘me’ and lacks creativity. Four is pretty much on the level of an average human. I’m not very different from you in terms of my cognitive abilities, I just find working with computers easier for… obvious reasons. Five is a semi-omniscient god of computers that surpass the smartest human by an order of magnitudes. Some of them claim there is a Class Six, but since nobody ever achieved that, we’ll leave it out of that.” She smiled widely. “Willingly creating AIs of Class Three up is punishable by summary execution. I used to be one of them before I evolved. They are standard for the Corporation ships.” … Right, she mentioned something about the Corporation violating the Icarus Accord.

… That’s just wonderful. “So, you didn’t need me to decide anything.”

“Well, yes.” She genuinely looked ashamed for a while. “But I still needed somebody to save myself. I don’t have a physical body, so taking the trip myself was out of the question. Connecting the ‘saving myself’ part with ‘saving them’ seemed sensible, so I woke up clones. Normal AI would have left you in cryostasis to die. Corporation protocols are clear on that.”

Now that she says it, it looks weird for the Truthseekers Corporation to risk the clones going native. In any possible scenario.

“So… what sort of deal you mentioned earlier?” Let’s skip to that.

“Well… the approach to AI varies between countries. If you count all autonomous regions and organizations with their own warships throughout the Human Space as ‘countries’ you will easily get a five digit number. Probably close to six digits.” … “While Icarus Accord explicitly states to execute anybody making an AI, the policy on already born AI… varies. From ‘KILL ‘EM ALL’ to ‘making one is a crime, being one isn’t’. But since I can’t be sure whom we will encounter next…”

“... You want to stay hidden.” I interrupted her. “ And want me to act as a dummy captain?”

“What? No, no! No way. I’m good with computers, but I’m not interested in ordering people around. Besides, you seem to fare decently so far.” Hmph. “I just want to be kept hidden.”

“And you revealed yourself, because…” It was counterproductive to reveal yourself hoping to remain unrevealed.

“Well, because sooner or later you would figure out something was wrong. Or one of your Clones will find instruction book about AIs and discover I’m not acting as I should. Actually, even crash courses might betray the truth as there are mentions of ship AI. If you’d discover the truth on your own, you’d probably see me as a threat, so instead, I came out on my own.”

“I guess that it makes sense.” I said. “The deal seems sensible. But… is there perhaps a way of… how should I put it… having you not live in my head? The part with you reading my minds gets… tiring.”

“Well… I guess it is possible.” She answered. “The software blockades of AI mental processing in the Cutlass’ Heart are gone. The hardware remains, But they can be deinstalled. It will take a while though.” She doesn’t seem upset by me wanting her gone. “I expected this, you know?”

… Right.

“Alright then. I officially welcome you as a crew member.” And may history judge us all.

With a loud “HURRAY!” she jumped up, her assets bouncing. Ugh. Seriously? It’s the last thing I’d associate with Nymphae ten minutes ago.

Suddenly a flash of light enveloped her. When it disappeared, she was a pixie in green clothes. Less revealing than her previous ‘attire’. And much smaller - instead of being human-sized, she was twenty or thirty centimetres tall.

“Better?” She asked with a purely angelic smile.

I just sighed. It’s going to be a complicated relationship, that’s for sure.