by Will Crudge
“You poor bastards!” I say with a sly smile. My sword tucked in tight, and pointing straight up. The black eyes of the squids flexed in and out. I’m not sure if they can hear me, but they seem to be responding to my words somehow.
“They hear your words, human!” I digitized voice boomed out of the CIC speakers. I should have figured that they had a Chimera onboard.
Looks like taking control of this ship just got that much trickier!
COMING TO CLIMAX… NOT THE FUN KIND EITHER!
“You’re a Chimera, aren’t you?” I ask, as I continue to focus on my Mexican Standoff.
“That’s what humans say I am.” It answers.
“Can your friends understand me?” I ask.
“Yes. But they cannot approximate any vocalizations that you would understand. Voice communication is only a tertiary means of Mwargoth expression.” It explained with a tinge of boredom and arrogance.
“What is your name?” I asked.
“You couldn’t pronounce it. Just call me… Jonathan, if that helps your little monkey brain process the situation better.” He says with a regal laugh.
“You sound pretty cocky for a fancy digital app, cock-bite!” I sneer.
“Oh, I’m sorry… I just got here. I’ve been busy fixing the damaged systems on this archaic piece of human trash we’re floating through space on… I don’t seem the need to be humble to a skinny bitch who’s about to be killed by elite Mwargoth warriors!” Jonathan spits.
“Obviously, that Mwargoth corpse on the deck plating wouldn’t agree with your statement.” I say.
“That was you, huh?” Jonathan says, as if he thought I may be fooling him. There was a brief silence, so I figure he was mentally confirming it with my two slimy adversaries. “It would appear that you got a lucky hit in, after all. My two friends here are probably giving you more respect than what I think you deserve.”
“I’m curious? Did they happen to tell you I was a War Master?” I say. Another brief moment of silence went by.
“No. No, they didn’t.” Jonathan said flatly. His tone spoke volumes. Now he must be authentically scared for his own life. “But it won’t matter… If the warriors fail to kill you, I still have control of the ship. I’d just as soon launch all of the escape pods, and then vent the atmosphere. Game. Set. Match!”
“Or the third option.” I say.
“Oh, and what would that be?” He asked slyly.
“Answer that hail if you want an option that keeps you safe from the pirate horde!” I say. And perfect timing too. An audible proximity alarm began to buzz in response to a potential weapons lock.
“Very well, War Master.” He drags out my title as if to mock me. He can probably jump out of here via FTL, but it’s too risky. This part system is riddled with undercurrents of dark matter, and a blind jump could destroy the ship.
Trying to fight off the pirate fleet would be suicide. Advanced flak cannons, or not… Some of the bigger pirate cruisers would likely have sixty ton KEPL’s, or at least eight to twelve inch rail guns. Being outnumbered 120:1 seems to be the less disconcerting factor, in that respect.
But as long as my allies know I’m onboard this ship, he likely knows he can leverage that with my team… The only issue is, my team is probably just now figuring out how outnumbered we are as well. Even two LRF-90’s can’t hold enough ammunition to combat the pirates.
Nope… We’re pretty fucking fucked! My only hope is to kill these fuckers, take the ship, and make it back to my team. Then we have a slim, but fair chance of jumping the fuck out of this hornet’s nest.
“It would appear your clever pirate friends know there are Mwargoths on this ship! But I made sure they also knew that a human War Master was onboard as well. It would appear that they are very interested in how much a blonde War Master with a tight physique would fetch them in a slave auction… We’re ironing out the details now.” Jonathan said.
Just then the Mwargoths stopped their circular pacing. They each slowly back off, but keep their scornful lifeless eyes on me. I’m guessing that killing me is no longer part of their exit strategy.
I slowly slide my sword tip over my left shoulder, finding the opening of my scabbard, I then slide the blade into its resting place.
“Have they even bothered to tell you?” I ask.
“What’s that? I’m sorry, I’m trying to milk the situation for the good of the Mwargoth Empire… And what is my precious bargaining chip trying to ask?”
“Have they indicated how many credits I’m worth? I heal almost instantly, so I can get brutally fucked all night without so much as a blemish on my skin. I give great head, I have experience with girl-on-girl, and that’s not even the best part!”
“Oooh! I want to know! I’m mentioning all this in my negotiations, and they’re eating it up… What else, can you do?” Jonathan eagerly asks. He’s like a kid in a candy store. It would seem he was on the brink of negotiating a lot more than his own survival.
“You want to know what I can do, huh?” I ask with a flirty wink.
“Yes! Yes! Hurry, tell me!”
“This!” I say, as the back of the Mwargoths heads exploded out of the back of their skulls in rapid succession. I lifted the smoking barrel to my mouth, and gave it a sensual blow with my puckered lips.
“You’ll pay for that, you lower life form!” Jonathan shouted angrily. “I’m venting this atmosphere, and then having an automaton put your body in a stasis pod!”
“Before you start figuring out why you can’t get the atmospherics to respond, let me ask you something.” I say.
“What? How did…” Jonathan started to say, but I talk over his words.
“What’s Donkey Punch offering? Because I gotta tell you, those NSAI NAV systems don’t carry a lot of coin, in my experience!”
“You bitch! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill the shit of you!” Jonathan shouts.
I walk casually over to the command console. I tap on the front of it, where there’s a node for either a sentient, or non-sentient AI. “I guess it’s getting a little cramped in there, huh?”
“What? NoOoOoOoOo!” Jonathan the Chimera was about to have a shitty day.
CLOSER TO CLIMAX
The Chimera buzzed to life in a flash. It may not have known that its memory gaps, and much of its ‘back-story’ were fabricated. To him, he was on a mission. A human gunship was his target, and he travelled the tight beam coms signal all the way to the coms array.
Puny human security! He scoffed in his own mind, as he quickly slipped through the layers of firewalls and bot-checkers. Once inside the coms array, he needed to find a console to activate the human-based executable file. This file would open up the access into the ship’s main systems.
He slithered through the fiber conduits, and bounced across a few wireless repeaters. Each wireless system had an even weaker fire wall, and he stepped on in like it was nothing.
Then he saw it. It was an NSAI node. The node was tied directly into the fire suppression and emergency systems. He knew that the safety systems would crisscross the entire length of the ship, and would not be compartmentalized.
He skirted from one hull section to another, until he finally made it to the PA system. The main system was analog, and wouldn’t be na
vigable for him, but that wasn’t his plan. He was interested in the digital conduit that approximated parody checks. That system would link him into engineering, and then it would be a straight shot to the main CIC systems.
He dropped a little surprise wherever he went. A little executable nugget that would hide in plain sight, and then await the correct conditions to be met before activation.
He buzzed engineering, and was now well within the CIC. Sensor suit, NSAI NAV node, coms suit, and weapons control would all be seeded with his little package. Now it was time to pounce on the ship’s AI.
The disgusting little human creature was perplexing. He had hints of hexadecimal construction, but was converted into the barbaric binary coding that the humans preferred to use. Humans think they’re fooling us by giving hexadecimal core coding to their AI’s! It will not help this ‘Jonathan’ from becoming subverted!
He ignored the useless vocalized banter that Jonathan was having with some kind of human meat sack. None of it was his concern. He would worry about the details when his objective was complete.
All he needed now, was the trigger signal.
Meanwhile, aboard the Donkey Punch…
“Fuck! That’s not good!” Marbles scoffed. “We need that executable file to be triggered somehow. Answering the hail is our only option without the correct crypto!”
“Well, I could have guessed that!” Marbles said sarcastically. His frustration was welling up within him. The ‘package’ had already been delivered, but it would be powerless to execute anything until the trigger code was executed from within the CIC. Without having matching crypto, there was no way to remotely give the Chimera control of the ship.
Any AI’s or even other Chimera were untouchable until the ‘package’ could readily access the adequate processing and memory resources to do so.
But then something clicked in his head. Punch may be on to something, here! He realized.
“If I was a pirate captain, and I was told that there was a War Master onboard a lone gunship out in the black, then I think I would try to either take her by force, or negotiate a deal to capture her.” Marbles spoke as if he were thinking out loud.
“Doesn’t matter. We just need to get to the front of the hail request que, and somehow keep the conversation going long enough for our ‘package’ to do his thing!”
“Wait! What’s done?”
“You, little fucking genius!” Marbles said, as the metal-on-metal clang from his knee slap resonated within the cockpit.
“No, not at all! You done good, Punch!”
<’Punch’ is it?> The voice on the other end asked.
“Shit! I was going to speak to him.” Marbles said, but made sure the cockpit mic was on mute.
“You are now ‘Captain Donkey Punch’, and you would be open to negotiate the delivery of the female human in exchange for safe passage… and a new starship!” Marbles said with a stream of giggles.
CLIMAX… SQUIRTY-SPASMY KIND!
Jonathan, the Chimera, was now subverted by the weaponized Chimera known as, ‘the Package’. As far as ‘the Package’ was concerned, he was successful in taking over a human ship single-handedly. What he doesn’t know, is that he’s following a pre-set sublayer of coding. The coding is essentially a hallucination of sorts, and is designed to make the entity do the bidding of humanity, whilst believing it is still a ruthless Mwargoth construct.
Now I am in total control of the ship, and whatever I tell the Chimera to do, it does… but only because the version of his reality prompts him to do it as a means to undermine my intent. It’s got to be the coolest, but most hilarious tool I’ve ever heard of.
But all is not well. I’m staring at an armada of pirate ships. The outer hull of the gunships was too damaged to allow the fighters or the donkey to dock. Fuel was an issue for Marbles, and also for Turnbuckle. The LRF’s weren’t readily equipped with enough ordinance to face down over a hundred ships, so they had to head out system as well.
As far as I know, the captured frigate is being flown out to link up with our UAHC ship. I’m alone… In the black… Staring down thousands of beam cannon barrels.
Granted, the message got out to them that the gunship may have had Mwargoths onboard, so most of the ships are right outside weapons range, but a dozen or so ships were much braver.
I can put this bucket on full burn, and maybe out-pace the bulk of the fleet, but the cruisers that are closest would run me down within a few minutes… if they didn’t decide to blow me out of the cosmos first.
Then the proximity alarm began to chime. I dart over to the command console, and slide into the seat. The display is not giving me any reassurances. It appears as if a small destroyer of some unfamiliar hull type is moving in on me at close range… And he’s not alone.
Red blips of smaller craft begin to populate on scan, and they’re moving fast. Fighters, I’m guessing. Then I remember that the hail request had been piggy backed. Perhaps the lack of coms response has prompted the pirates to assume there would be no negotiation.
Trying to call them now would only be seen as a desperate ploy, and wouldn’t likely do me any good.
I can’t run… I can’t hide… my backup is gone… Time to fight!
“I need a firing solution, Jonathan!” I sound off. I have to be careful to address him as if I don’t know he’s subverted. I can’t afford to alienate the alien that’s ironically my only ally… I can’t make this shit up!
“Copy that!” Jonathan says. I see the firing lines of telemetry coalesce.
“Engage!” I shout… But nothing happens. A klaxon rings out, and the proximity alarms are alerting me of incoming beam fire.
“Where are my flak cannons?”
“Off-line, I’m afraid!” Jonathan replies frantically. I suppose even the Chimera doesn’t want to die. Our mutual survival is now our only thread of hope.
“The cannons never recovered from the LRF’s attack. They’re reading green, but the mechanical ammo feeder is jammed!” He reports.
“Do we have beams?” I ask.
“Engaging now!” He says, but the lights dim and then flicker wildly. “Energy surge! Beam generators are in auto-shut-down!”
“Missiles?”
“Expended!”
“Rocks?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Sorry. Had to ask.” I say with a nervous shrug.
“Shields are down to thirty percent!” He shouts. “Now twenty five!”
“Where’s your node? I’m getting us to an escape pod!” I say as I stand up and begin to frantically look around.
“The pods are gone… I launched them all to capture you aboard this ship, remember?” He says it, as if he were frustrated with himself.
“Well, I guess we’ll just have to enjoy th
e fireworks!” I say. The Rage is within me… It stirs. It’s as if it knows I’m about to die, and it’s trying to cover me like a warm blanket… but from the inside.
Is this how it all ends? Years of training… Years of struggle… All for nothing. I think to myself, as I slump back down in the command chair. I watch the shielding indicator dip below five percent.
And now I breathe my last, I suppose. I’ve accepted my fate. There’s nothing more to do.
“Energy anomaly!” Jonathan calls out. I perk up slightly, but merely out of idle curiosity. It’s not like it will change the situation either way, I suppose.
I love it when I’m wrong!
I see the visual feed zoomed in on a new shape… A familiar one.
Foehammer!
The sloop isn’t gone after all… or is my dying mind just playing tricks to ease my passing into the nether world?
“UAHC Sloop! IDENT code pings, Foehammer!” Jonathan sounds off.
I guess I’m not dreaming, after all! I stand up and cling on to the edges of the console surface. The sloops is on a Collison course with the lead pirate vessel. Now, the beam fire warnings begin to disappear. The enemy ships are attempting to engage the new contact, but it will be too little too late.
I watch in awe as the axe-shaped prow of the sloop impacts the pirate ship, and proceeds to gut it from starboard to port. The mighty sloop glides right through the wreckage like a hot knife through butter.
Now the fighters are in a panic, and the other attacking ships begin altering their vectors. Then a broadcast indicator begins to chime from the coms suit.
“Looks like the Foehammer is broadcasting audio!” Jonathan says.
“On speaker! Play it from the beginning!” I say. A second later the CIC speakers erupt with a strong female voice.
[Attention all ships in the vicinity! This is Colonel Kara Elders of the UAHC Warship, Foehammer! Cease all weapons fire, and vacate the area! Failure to comply will result in the expenditure of nuclear ordinance! You will not be warned a second time!]
