Superdreadnought- The Complete Series

by C H Gideon

  “Are we wasting our time here?” Jiya asked. “At least three other ships have landed in the twenty minutes since we rolled up to this one.”

  “How could you possibly know that?” Magni snapped.

  Oops. Jiya had managed to hack access to the hovercab dispatcher’s feed on her comm, but no one else knew she had. It was a violation of company policy, and it could get her the axe if anyone important—like Magni—found out.

  She improvised, “It was a guess, Magni. I’ve been working here for a few months now. I know how often ships come and go. Anyway, shouldn’t someone try to figure out what’s going on?”

  “Yes, someone should,” Magni said. “And it’ll be you. Report back to us what you find.”

  Jiya blinked. “What? That’s not what I—”

  “No, you’re absolutely right,” Magni said. “Someone should check things out. You’re up.”

  “I meant someone with more experience. Like you, our supervisor.”

  “You just got done saying how you’ve been working here for a few months and that you know how things work.” Two cabs ahead, Magni’s head popped out and he sneered at her, his under-bite overemphasized. “If that isn’t a ringing endorsement, I don’t know what is.”

  Jiya bristled. The idea of exploring a massive alien ship, the likes of which had never been seen on Lariest before, terrified her, but it also stoked something deep within—a desire to challenge the unknown while putting her co-workers in their places.

  She hated both sensations equally.

  Jiya hated when these bottom-feeders gave her hell for being a female even more. She had to show them she wasn’t afraid. She wanted them to know that she was better than them.

  “Fine,” she said, deactivating her cab. “What do we know about the ship? Whom should I talk to?”

  “Uh, we know it’s here, and we know it’s fucking huge.” Magni added, “Happy trails.”

  Rictor and Balga’s laughter rumbled over the comm, and Jiya frowned.

  “Fine,” she repeated. “The largest fare is mine.”

  “Whatever,” Magni said.

  “What? That’s gwampo shit,” Rictor said.

  “Yeah, that’s not fair,” Balga added.

  “Then you pricks can go with her,” Magni said.

  Jiya cursed under her breath. Not what I was going for.

  “It’s better if more than one of you go,” Magni said. “That way, if any of you get killed or eaten, maybe the other two can still make it out.”

  Jiya started to retort, but Balga broke in first. “D-don’t joke about that shit, man! That really happened once!”

  “Do I sound like I’m joking?” Magni asked.

  He didn’t, and no one responded.

  With a sigh, Jiya opened the gullwing door of her hovercab and stepped out. She tried to straighten the rumples and wrinkles of her uniform, but given how many hours each day she sat, some of them were permanent features.

  The loading bay extended far into the darkness in almost every direction except down, so much so that she couldn’t see either its back wall or most of its ceiling.

  What could a bay this size contain? What types of ships could the aliens dock here? How much cargo could they transport? She had no idea, and that only amplified her curiosity about the ship.

  She affixed her uniform cap to her head, pulling her long black ponytail through the loop in the back. Then she rubbed her hands together, shut the hovercab’s door, and took a glance at herself in the window’s reflection.

  Satisfied, she started toward a corridor marked with lights like those on the ramp where they’d entered.

  “Wait up, Hot Pants,” Rictor called from behind her.

  If anything, that made her want to walk faster, but she reconsidered. If she let him catch up and could get him to take the lead, she could cut the number of comments he’d make about her ass.

  So she waited.

  Rictor and Balga approached, and she motioned for them to lead the way. They hesitated, though.

  “I don’t have time for this.” She was losing money in fares and tips with every additional minute that passed. So she turned and strode into the corridor, ass comments be damned.

  “They’re coming in now,” Comm reported.

  “About damned time,” the captain said. “They were just sitting there doing nothing for twenty minutes.”

  “Maybe they were waiting for us. We sat here doing nothing for twenty minutes, too,” the XO said.

  The captain’s position gave an audible sigh.

  “They’re not advancing quickly, but the lights are helping to keep them moving, at least,” Tactical said.

  “Humans like having their way well-lit. It appears our red-tinged humanoid visitors have a similar affinity,” the captain said.

  “They’ve reached the mess hall, Captain,” Comm said.

  “Good. When they’re away from the door, you may proceed,” the captain said.

  By the time Jiya heard the door shut, it was too late. She turned back toward it, but the lights in the huge room switched off.

  She’d gotten herself into a mess this time. Maybe a really, really bad one.

  “What the hell is going on?” Balga’s voice came from somewhere behind her.

  Rictor swore, but something cut off his voice. Metal grated on metal to Jiya’s left.

  Balga yelped and then went quiet, too. More scraping and scratching, then the stillness of deathly quiet.

  Jiya wished she had a weapon on her besides her telescoping bō staff, but the spaceport forbade hovercab drivers from carrying guns. I knew I should’ve ignored that stupid rule.

  Horrifying scenarios rifled through her mind, as did Balga and Magni’s rumors of what had happened before—whatever it was that had happened.

  She extended her arms, groping in the perfect darkness for something—anything—she could use to get her bearings.

  Her hands found something cool, metal, and definitely not a wall. It had rounded sections, joints, and…a face?

  Two lights—two yellow eyes—ignited and stared down at her.

  Chapter Four

  Jiya bolted awake.

  She regretted the movement instantly. Her head was throbbing. The world spun around her, hazy and indistinct, and her hand went to the back of her skull. A tender knot met her fingers, and she hissed, yanking her hand away.

  At least I’m not bleeding, she thought, doing her best to focus on the hand she held out before her.

  What the hell happened? she wondered, and it all came rushing back.

  Cold articulated-steel mechanical arms reaching for her. And those eyes, like two suns gleaming in the blackness of space. The lights had gone out, and she’d run into some kind of robot. She remembered screaming—although she’d deny it if anyone asked—then stumbling backward and losing her balance. That was when she’d hit the wall.

  Jiya groaned, the lump on her head reminding her it was still there, thrumming in time to the rush of memories. She gritted her teeth and looked around again, taking in her surroundings.

  A small, clinical room. The walls were bare, not a single decoration or adornment to mar their metallic perfection. She was on a cot. The thin mattress barely kept the steel frame from digging into her, and her every movement made the plastic sheeting squeak. It was as comforting as fingernails on a chalkboard.

  She slipped off the bed, clasping the rail to keep her balance as a wave of lightheadedness washed over her. Jiya’s eyes rolled before coming back into focus.

  That sucked.

  Once she felt confident enough to move without falling over, she circled the bed to see what lay behind her.

  A serpentine hiss stopped her. Dark lines were drawn upon the blank wall, a section of it peeling back and disappearing.

  It’s a door, she realized. She started toward it out of instinct, self-preservation kicking her ass into gear, but a shadowy shape drifted in and blocked the doorway. Her feet stuttered to a halt and Jiya gasped,
recognizing the figure standing between her and escape.

  “You!”

  “Yes, me,” the bot she’d run into answered as it eased into the room. “Expecting someone else?”

  Jiya stared at the bot, caught off guard by its flippancy. Humanoid in shape, it was built sturdily, but despite its heavily-armored frame, it moved with a feline-like grace.

  “Uh, I really don’t know what I expected,” she replied.

  “Then why so surprised?”

  It was a good question, and one Jiya had no answer for. So, instead of muttering something inane, she shook her head and stared.

  Silence settled over them for a moment.

  “Anyway,” the bot started, “you’re probably wondering why you’re here.”

  “You mean, why you killed the lights, ambushed my co-workers and me, and tossed me into a tiny room that might as well be a cell?”

  One of the bot’s eyes widened. “Well, when you put it that way it sounds kind of ominous, doesn’t it?”

  “You think?”

  “Occasionally,” the bot replied. “Although I don’t often recommend it. Tactical, however—he swears by it. Gotta watch that guy.”

  Jiya continued to stare. She took a step back, angling to put the cot between her and the strange bot. It hadn’t hurt her—yet—but it was sure as hell making her nervous. The thing sounded as if its gears were out of alignment. She wanted some kind of advantage if the thing lost what was left of its mechanical mind and came after her.

  “So, uh, yeah…back to why you brought me here.”

  “Yeah, that.” A crease on its face that Jiya imagined was meant to represent a mouth drew upward in an attempt to mimic what she thought might be a smile.

  No, that’s not creepy at all. She took another step away from the bot.

  “You’re a pilot, correct?”

  A confused shudder ran through Jiya, and she ran a hand across her face to wipe away the dumbfounded expression. She nodded in reply, unsure what the bot was looking for with its casual interrogation. “Among other things.”

  “Do you work well with AI systems?”

  Jiya swallowed hard, but there was no holding back this time. “You mean ones that aren’t insane?”

  The bot made that weird grin attempt again. “I see what you’re implying,” it said. “I am not crazy, I’m simply…expressive.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do indeed.” The bot paused. “Oh, what did you say your name was?”

  “Seeing as how I was busy being bushwhacked and kidnapped, I didn’t say,” she told it. “But since I’m feeling a bit Stockholmish, the name’s Jiya. Jiya Lemaire.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Jiya. You can call me Reynolds.”

  I’m likely to call you a whole bunch of other things if you don’t get to the point soon and let me go. “So, Reynolds, care to hop back on track and let me know why I’m here?” She motioned toward the bot blocking the door.

  “Oh, that’s right,” Reynolds said, stepping in and clearing the way to the exit. “It’s not my intention to keep you anywhere, although I am hoping you’ll choose to remain.”

  Jiya chuckled. “Really? No offense, but you did trick me in here. That doesn’t exactly ping high on the trust meter. Why the hell would I stick around?”

  “Uh, because I pay well?”

  “Wait…what?” Jiya turned her head sideways like a befuddled dog. “You kidnap me, and now you’re offering me a job?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? I have to admit that some human expressions confound me. I may have beaten around the bush too much in my efforts to appear more sympathetic.”

  Jiya shook her head. “No, have to say it really wasn’t.”

  The bot shrugged. “Well, I am. Good pay, benefits, the opportunity to travel the stars—”

  “The excellent company,” she muttered.

  “And that, of course,” Reynolds replied. “I’m quite the companion. Ask all the other mes.”

  Jiya sighed and convinced herself not to ask what he meant by that. “I’m not so sure. What say you let me go and I contemplate the offer out in the sunshine?”

  “You have something better to do?” the bot asked. “Going to drive a hovercab the rest of your life?”

  “Hey!” Jiya snarled at Reynolds, but she found that his words had struck a chord, the sad truth drawing her stomach into a knot. “I have other options.”

  Did she? Her father had all but cut the tail off her future here on Lariest.

  “True, the food service industry is always hiring. Would you like veggie-fries with that?”

  “I’m not liking you much,” she told the bot.

  “Fortunately, I like me enough for both of us.” That weird smile returned.

  “I really wish you’d stop doing that,” she said.

  “Then accept my offer,” it answered. “I’m on a mission—a super-important mission.” The Reynolds bot glanced furtively around the room, then inched forward, closing the distance between them. “Can I tell you a secret?” it whispered conspiratorially.

  Jiya stiffened at its closeness. “If you feel it’s necessary.” Her paranoia warred between running and punching Reynolds in its grinning mouth. Figuring she’d break her fist on its metal skull, she stood her ground peacefully.

  “I do,” it answered, moving even closer. “I’m not really a bot.”

  Nod and smile, Jiya, nod and smile. She did just that.

  “I’m actually a superdreadnought,” Reynolds continued. “This ship you’re in, that’s me.” The lights flickered on and off as if emphasizing Reynolds’ words. “My Queen sent me on a mission to seek out and destroy Kurtherians.” He inched closer. “You don’t know of any Kurtherians, do you?”

  “Uh, can’t say that I do.”

  “Good! Dirty little bastards, those Kurtherians. Even their name sounds awful. Kur-ther-i-ans,” Reynolds muttered. “Sound it out with me, and you’ll see what I mean. Awful.”

  “No, I’m okay, thanks. I’ll take your word for it.”

  Reynolds shrugged. “Whatever. I’ll give you a few minutes to think about my offer while I confer with my other selves. Be right back.”

  The bot stiffened, its eyes dimming to black. Jiya stood there for a moment, her heart stuttering in her chest. She cast a sideways glance at the door, wondering if she could dart out before the bot came back online.

  But if what it said was true?

  Jiya sighed. How do you outrun a ship? She was sure that wasn’t going to happen. Besides, the stupid thing was right.

  She flopped back onto the cot, ignoring the plastic sheeting as it squeaked in protest. Did she really want to drive a hovercab the rest of her life? Working for assholes like Magni, listening to Rictor comment about her ass all day?

  Wasn’t this the type of adventure she’d wanted when she’d applied for the Larien military? To fly off into space and leave Lariest and her father and his impossible demands behind? What did she have on the planet besides debt and the daily grind, shuttling johns back and forth all day for shitty wages and even shittier tips?

  She groaned as she thought about her life. What kind of future did she have to look forward to? The military had passed on her. Apparently, she was too difficult, if you could believe that. Tell one asshole where to go and how to get there, and they label you insubordinate. Of course, Daddy’s influence in all that didn’t help. He’d made it clear she’d toe the line—his line—or she’d suffer for it.

  Jiya stared at the blank walls, letting her thoughts drift in directions she wanted nothing to do with. How much harder would it be working for some crazy AI spaceship as opposed to a snarky cab boss?

  Well, Magni wasn’t likely to get her killed. Then again, he had sent her on a bunch of runs to lousy neighborhoods where it was possible she’d get shot.

  Jiya sat up on the cot and grunted. She’d spent her life making bad decisions without thinking about the consequences, the specter of her father always there, pushing, smoth
ering her. Was this another bad decision or was there truly something here?

  “Made up your mind?” the bot asked out of nowhere.

  Jiya shrieked, turning the tail end of it into a growl. Her fist went up, ready to smash the bot in its grinning face. “Damn, Reynolds. Don’t sneak up on a girl like that.”

  “Been standing here the whole time.”

  He had been, which only made his sudden reactivation worse.

  Heart echoing like thunder, she glared at the bot. “So, if I accepted your offer, what would I be doing?”

  “Pretty much whatever I need you to do,” Reynolds answered, shrugging. “I’m a big ship with lots of needs.”

  Psychiatric, first and foremost. “That’s not really all that enticing,” she admitted. “Sounds a little…freaky.”

  “Much as I hate to admit this, I can’t do everything on my own, even with my own help. We need a crew. They should be loyal, faithful, and courageous, but we’ll settle for competent right now.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Nothing personal. You are just flesh and blood.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she told him, huffing.

  Reynolds shrugged. “Not always, no,” it admitted, “but all your sleeping and eating and pooping take up an inordinate amount of your time; non-productive ship time that requires much in the way of logistics to support, which means I need even more humans to support the few humans I need. You follow?”

  “You got me there.” How could you argue with logic like that? Jiya just shook her head. “So, are you expecting me to help with recruiting, too?”

  “Have a problem with that?”

  “Not as long as the paycheck is commensurate,” Jiya replied, shrugging and doing her best to make her bargaining appear casual, “and…I get first choice in who gets the job.” She already had an idea as to who she wanted working beside her.

  The fact that her choices would piss off Daddy Dearest only made it more satisfying.

  Reynolds forced that inhuman grin onto his face again. “Fair enough, but you have to accept the job first. You are accepting it, right?”

  She drew in a deep breath, letting it fill her lungs, then let it out in a soft whistle. “Sure, why not? I’ve nothing better to do than travel to some distant universe where I’m likely to die horribly while working for a AI with multiple personalities.” Just another day at the office. “What about the other knuckleheads who came in with me?”