by Skyler Grant
"Do it," Anna said, rising out of her throne. "If we're in disarray, so are the Rats and the Wolves. We're taking this ship."
Every so often I was reminded how brilliant I am. At times I questioned the alliance I had made with Anna. This wasn't one of them.
I'd been hard at work getting weaponry and armor for our people. Without access to mining, everything I produced had a biological source. The armor was grown in my growth vats, layers of hardened exoskeleton made to suit the human form. The guns appeared fairly conventional, but on the inside were a collection of acid growth sacs with a simple sprayer. They were limited compared to a conventional rifle, in both range and spread, working more like a shotgun.
I produced two more soldier units.
Candice
Gender: Female
Specialization: Explosives
Traits: Perky, Fearless, Annoying
Diana
Gender: Female
Specialization: Ranged
Traits: Cowardly, Poor Singer, Meticulous
"Ready to kill, kill, kill!" Candice said excitedly.
"As long as it isn't too risky," Diana said.
"The riskier, the better! Go Team Emma!" Candice said.
Creating the perfect human wasn't easy. Perhaps that is why humans spent so much time trying. Still, these would serve my purposes well enough.
"Command, do you read?" asked Doctor Batavius over the comm.
"Better than you can, doctor. We're well up here, good work on capturing one. Move them over to a research pod. We're launching offensive operations, keep your heads down," I said.
"However cocky you might be, you won't find it easy to harm the Mist."
"Just because your frigid heart has never known heat doesn't mean others share your problem," I said.
Batavius paused for a moment thinking it over. "Your pyrokinetic thing. That should work. When she arrives we'll flood the lower deck with an accelerant vapor."
It was a good way to assist the existing plan. Although Hot Stuff burned incredibly hot, her range was limited. Anything that we could do to expand it was likely to be helpful. Within limits.
"I approve of your plan so long as you don't burn down my ship," I said.
"You should know the Rat’s primary defenses are disease-based," Batavius said, and killed the link.
Well, if my new chief researcher was looking to maintain my good graces she was pulling it off. When this was over and done with I might have to bleed Ophelia for a day to make all the cookies the Research deck would have coming to them.
The throne room was getting crowded. Anna had changed, now wearing a set of medium armor. In addition to an acid rifle she had a few conventional pistols and even a sword. I suppose that being Queen had its rewards and one of those was getting all the weapons.
Mechos and the surviving Mechanites made do with acid rifles and heavy armor. Ophelia was in shorts and a tank top—avoiding injuries wasn't high on her list of priorities.
"If they yield, we let them. We'd rather have them working for us than dead, but don't take any chances. If they aren't throwing down their arms and surrendering take them out," Anna said.
Hot Stuff was already making her way down to the bottom deck, flames billowing as her temperatures began to spike. It was showtime.
7
"Ophelia should take on the Rats alone. They utilize disease as their primary weapon. While I realize most people wouldn’t even notice if Anna was covered in oozing sores, it is probably best to avoid for everyone," I said through Diana. Although my human creations had intellect and personalities of their own, I could take them over when required just as I could my mechanical drones.
"My healing upgrade won't help?" Anna asked.
"It may. Do you want to test it?"
Abilities gained through research were usually nowhere near the power of the primary ability granted by a core.
Anna grimaced. "Not really. Fine, Ophelia, you're on your own."
"Against an army of rats. What am I getting out of this deal again?" Ophelia asked.
"Immortality and not being stuck in the grinder full-time," I said.
"Missing the days when I was a sidekick," Ophelia said, heading off on her own. At least I could observe that stage of the fight through the monitoring bracelet.
The top deck looked to be a war zone. Massive rents were torn in the hull and the corridors were filled with oily black smoke. In the distance there was the sound of weapon fire.
Candice motioned and took the lead, the others following close behind. People seemed more than happy to let my human drone take point.
We passed several burning turrets in the hall, formidable defenses that had already been destroyed. The sound of gunfire was coming from a side room and a quick look revealed it to be some sort of barracks.
A makeshift barricade had been made out of bunks and several Wolves sheltered behind it, firing on a figure of mist that kept relocating from one place to another. Forming only long enough to take a shot, before discorporating again. It was a strategy only partially successful, the serious-faced young woman bore several wounds.
"Ignore them," I said through Candice. "We need to find the command console for this level."
"We owe them blood," Anna said with a scowl.
"And your parents owe you an apology for that face. Once we have control of this deck you can teleport and kill as much as you want, or press for peace as you choose," I said.
Anna didn't look pleased about it, but she nodded and we continued on. Everything here was devoted to war. There were training facilities, briefing rooms, armories.
This deck had taken a lot of damage, far worse than from a single bomb like they’d tried against us. Through a gaping hole in the ceiling I could see one of the massive guns mounted on top of the ship. It was smoldering.
While we were so far having a quiet time of it, fierce battles were happening elsewhere. Ophelia had been set upon by rats, her flesh bubbling, peeling, and warping in the most unnatural ways as one powerful infection after another coursed through her system. Whatever was done to her though was no match for her healing powers and she lashed out against her attackers. Her gun had been lost, but she had fists and teeth, and fought savagely.
It was a brutal encounter that I knew she would win eventually. In her own way she was an unstoppable force. Unfortunately it looked like the engines were in flaming ruins, the bombing hitting them hard.
Hot Stuff was having a hard time of it too. The Mists tried shooting her, and when that didn't work they tried asphyxiating her. It was smart—I'd tried the same once and had some success. But I hadn't tried to asphyxiate her with my own body.
Hot Stuff's flames nearly sputtered out as she was buried in an enveloping cloud of dark mist. Then she found a reserve of power and flared with an intensity that left the deck around her molten.
The Mists reformed into bodies, burning and screaming and dying.
In our own somewhat tame fight we were coming up on what looked to be a command center. Tactical displays were dim from running off emergency power. In the center was a command console, the main power still active there. I recognized its design from the Research deck.
Five Wolves in heavy armor surrounded it.
"Hold your fire," said one of them. The man looked to be in his fifties, grey-haired and severe. "I know this attack wasn't your doing."
"They hit us too," Anna said. "Although later, and not as effectively as you did."
"I'm Baron Wolfson," said the man, and jerked his head to the displays. "There is something you need to see."
"We'll hear you out," Anna said.
One of the Wolves tapped away at the keys and views switched to outside. The jungle was rippling, vegetation undulating in a long line that was moving towards us.
"Damn it," Anna said with a sigh. "How are we doing on the other decks?"
The Espionage deck was just coming online for me. Hot Stuff had made it to their core. Without any surviv
ing defenders she needed to do nothing more than lay her hand on it to claim it. With its activation I was getting more feeds than just what the Wolves were showing me.
An army was approaching through the jungle.
The Rats were busy surrendering to Ophelia. I think there may have been a marriage proposal of some sort. It seemed they were impressed by a survivor and not usually prone to fights at the best of times.
"If you are quite done meeting friends who whine even more than you do, hurry it up," I told Ophelia, then I said to Anna, "We're winning."
"Your call how this plays out."
Wolfson said, "My people aren't going to follow an untested girl, however much she wants to call herself Queen."
"Then we've got a problem, because it isn't going the other way," Anna said, staring him down.
Wolfson considered this and said, "Single combat. No weapons."
"Done," Anna said, and the two shook on it.
Wolfson stripped out of his armor and set his weapons aside. Anna did the same.
"Are you sure about this?" I asked her.
"I think I know what I'm doing. I think I know what he is doing. Stay out of this, Emma—unless you're quite certain I'm about to die. Then kill every single one of them and take the console," Anna said.
The Wolves joined my people into forming a circle around Anna and Wolfson.
Anna started the fight, moving in and lashing out a leg to kick at Wolfson's midsection. He grabbed her ankle and twisted, and a sharp crack could be heard. Anna screamed in pain. Wolfson was whirling around to lash out with his own foot. Ribs broke and Anna's scream became a whimper as the air was knocked out of her and she was sent skidding across the floor.
The fight had gone all of a few seconds and it seemed effectively over. I knew it wasn't quite that easy, Anna did have accelerated healing, but it was nothing compared to Ophelia's. While Ophelia would already be getting back to her feet, that wasn't the case with Anna.
Wolfson bent down and grabbed her by the throat, using it to lift her high into the air. "You think you can fight girl? You think you're worthy of leading the Wolves?"
Anna didn't respond in words but with action. Her legs wrapped themselves around his waist and she punched at the hand gripping her throat. When it released she drove her head forward and pounded at his nose with her forehead. There was a spray of blood and he stumbled backward to collapse onto the floor.
Anna kept hold. There was nothing subtle about what happened next, she followed up with one blow after another, smashing her head into his face again, then again.
I don't know if the other Wolves knew, but with my science drone I could tell that he was forcing down his defensive instincts. A leg muscle tensed to drive her off, then relaxed. Wolfson was letting her have this, letting Anna get her blows in.
When Anna finally pulled herself away from him her face was a bloody mess. Her own nose had broken sometime in the scuffle and her lip was split in several places. They'd heal eventually, but her boosted healing was tending to more serious injuries first.
In unison the Wolves dropped to a knee with their heads lowered.
That was all it took for the deck to start coming online.
Ship Status
Primary weapons: Offline
Primary shielding: Offline
Secondary weapons: 15%
Primary Engines: Offline
Auxiliary thrusters: 5%
Hull integrity: 21%
"Do we have control?" Anna asked.
"We do, of a ship that impossibly looks even worse than you do," I said.
"The Mists wanted to sabotage us before that army gets here. It must be someone or something with the old Command core from the throne," Anna said. “It escaped.”
I'd figured that out myself.
"I admire your ability to state the obvious in even the most time sensitive of situations," I said.
"As I do your ability to squeeze in an insult," Anna said, and triggered her comm to go ship-wide. "Wolves. I've defeated your leader in single combat, prepare to form a defensive perimeter around the ship with me. Doctor Batavius, have your department aid in the defense and help the Rats get our engines back online."
8
The Rats were blinking about the ship. Now that they were officially my minions they could teleport within a facility that I controlled. It seemed to barely faze them, I wondered if the old core had also offered them the teleporting ability. Unlike the Wolves and Bats, although they could shape change to human, the Rats rarely seemed to do so.
I teleported Ophelia into a containment cell in the research wing and triggered the forcefield.
"Really? Prison?" Ophelia asked. The woman had looked better, her clothes shredded to ruins by the rat attacks and her flesh stained with dried blood.
"You're filled with super-powered diseases that have faced a super-powered immune system for awhile. While I can't actually imagine anyone wanting to be close enough to you for it to spread, you do need to be quarantined," I said.
It wasn't just that.
Research Menu
"Plague Variants"
The Rats possess the ability to spread a host of diseases that operate on systems at an accelerated rate. In Ophelia they have encountered an accelerated immune system. This has resulted in fragments of advanced viruses.
Extraction of samples will take forty-eight hours and are a resource that can aid in the development of new bioweapons.
Right now I didn't have any bioweapons, unless you counted the humans I could manufacture. I'd like some, anything that expanded my ability to defend my research facilities was a good thing. SCIENCE must go on, no matter what.
"Two days. Then I'll send Hot Stuff in to incinerate you. I doubt you'll be the first disease-infested specimen she has gotten close to," I said.
"Seriously not happy about this," Ophelia said.
I killed the connection and materialized some cookies in her cell.
One problem handled, I switched over to Anna. My human drones were still in her company and she was slowly leading the Wolves down the stairs—slow, because she was barely holding it together, her broken ribs were just starting to regrow.
Based on her rate of healing I thought it would be several hours before she was back in any sort of reasonable fighting shape.
"I know you'd like to lead the defense, but let us be honest, your technical skills are somewhat less horrible than your fighting ability. I could use your assistance with the engines," I said.
"You can have Mechos and the Mechanites," Anna said.
I wasn't going to object to that idea. They were outstanding engineers, but really my entire point was to keep Anna on her feet. However, if she was going to be stubborn we'd just have to deal with it. I'd constructed the infirmary and could heighten her healing even more, if needed.
"I'll take them," I said.
Mechos and his people separated from the group and headed to Engineering. I let the Rats know to expect them.
I switched my attention over to Doctor Batavius. Instead of making her way over to either the main engines or the ground defenses, she and her assistant had gone to the secondary thrusters.
"Doctor, your goggles may have failed you. Those aren't the main engines," I said through the nearby comm panel.
"How fortunate that I have you to remind me of the design of this ship. Did you spend all of five minutes studying it, when not busy failing to adequately defend against the Mist saboteurs?" Batavius asked, cracking open a panel, goggled features studying the interior.
"Is there a reason why, or has the dementia gotten worse?" I asked.
"There is usually a reason why, even when you're too stupid to grasp it," Batavius said. “Whether you need a quick hop to escape those approaching hordes or simply to set the jungles on fire to hold them back, the thrusters are your best mix of defense and unlikely offense. I'm working to give you all the options I can."
While I could fault her attitude—there really was
no need to be so insulting—I couldn't fault her logic. In addition, as one of the few systems still partially operational, it was easier to get something out of the thrusters. I was already seeing an improvement.
"We believe it is the old core out there. You may have been considered barely useful enough to be in its company once or twice. What can you tell me?" I asked.
"The Crystal Spider. Did you find none of its agents on your deck after establishing control?" Batavius asked.
"We didn't. I destroyed the throne and established a link," I said.
"Then fried your tiny little mind, I expect. Predictable. The Crystal Spider is primarily an upgrade core, although enhanced with a number of Command cores over time. Lady Sylax profited well from both. The throne was not its core, but something of a control hub," Batavius said, screwing a new part into the panel.
That explained why I didn’t get any upgrades from the destruction of the throne. The old core truly was still active and out there. When we'd disrupted its control it must have fled from the ship and spent the time in the jungle raising an army to take its home back.
"Why would it flee? Couldn't it simply have used its abilities from the Command core on us?" I asked.
"It doesn't do well with spontaneity. Webs and long-term plans," Batavius said.
How spider-like. It was a weakness. Like I’d already discovered, plans were good, but you also needed to be able to work in the moment.
Twenty minutes later the army arrived. It was time enough for us to set up some basic defenses. The Research deck had provided several portable shielding platforms, energized barriers that defenders could crouch behind. The Wolves had high-powered rifles with a better range than the acid guns, and we were bolstered by energy turrets.
A ramp gave us quick access back into the airship when we were ready for take-off—if, that is, we ever had the ability to get airborne.
