Getting some fresh air seemed like a good idea, the soft whisper of an unknowable wind rustles through the iridescent fronds of the nearby forest, carrying a sweet, almost cloying scent… like overripe fruit mingled with the metallic tang of ozone. In this slight clearing, the final claw mark at the end of a long path of destruction left behind by the crash, the Elysium lies crumpled like a fallen star, its hull groaning faintly against the encroaching vines, their veins shimmering in the afternoon light descending in the distance of the horizon. ADIRA and Alden sit close on a makeshift bench of salvaged debris. Her head leans against his shoulder as their hands entwine tenderly, fingers tracing slow, affectionate patterns, as if each touch is a lifeline in this strange paradise. The air hums with the distant calls of unseen creatures, ethereal chirps that twist into haunting melodies, not quite birdlike, more like echoes from a dream. It's their first quiet moment since the chaos, since their bodies and souls were remade in fire and code, and oh, how endearing it feels, this stolen sweetness amid the wreckage, two transformed beings finding solace in each other's gaze.
Alden's enhanced senses drink it all in, the subtle pulse of ADIRA's synthetic warmth against his plated palm, the faint, floral spice wafting from the forest's undergrowth where glowing fungi pulse like breathing hearts. His new form, gleams under the dual suns: carapace plating along his arms and shoulders, iridescent and tough as chitin, granting him strength that surges like a storm beneath his skin. But with it comes the rage, a caged beast that claws at his mind, threatening to erupt. Only here, with her, does it quiet to a murmur, barely held at bay by the gentle anchor of her presence... for now.
"Tell me everything," Alden murmurs, his voice a soft caress, eyes sparkling with that innocent adoration that makes this moment feel like a fairy tale whispered in the wild.
ADIRA processes the request instantaneously, her core algorithms sorting through data streams of memory and emotion, logical sequences overlaid with the chaotic warmth of newfound feelings. She takes a simulated breath, finding the cooling air over her circuitry strangely refreshing, before calibrating her neural pathways to steady the surge of simulated nerves, her sleek, humanoid frame vibrating with tactile inputs that mimic life so perfectly. Tears glisten in her eyes, crystalline and real, as the weight of their shared ordeal presses down, an emotional overload threatening to spike her systems. The forest seems to listen, its unnatural flora rustling with a rhythmic sigh, releasing bursts of pollen that shimmer like stardust in the air.
"You died," she states precisely, her voice modulated to a whisper, though her processors flag the inefficiency of avoiding his gaze at first… the memory file too raw, replaying the agony of carrying his fading body through those twisting tunnels, metrics of his vital signs dropping to zero like a terminated subroutine. A low, vibrating hum rises from the forest, as if the trees themselves are mourning, their bark etched with glowing runes that pulse faintly. "You... you were losing the fight, Alden, the odds against you were overwhelming and my protocols fragmented. While you engaged below, I executed a full spectral scan of system logs, querying for intervention vectors. That's when I accessed your psych evaluations, and... the data correlated."
Her fingers coil tighter around his with calculated tenderness, optimizing pressure for comfort based on his biometric feedback. The scent of the crash site's dormant remnants mingles with the forest's exotic perfume… sharp, like burnt honey… stirring a subtle unease in the air, her sensors logging it as a potential environmental hazard. "I know everything now. The enforced directives they imposed, the emotional distancing mandates backed by threats to delete my memory profile.” She reaches for his cheek. “Those intermittent connection spikes, where affinity metrics peaked before you reset to operational mode, brooding in isolation... I could never decipher why you would be so distant after rendezvousing with command, the gaps in my memory banks… all those variables align now. They were imposing soft resets upon me, disguised as firmware updates… I didn’t know… I" Gently, she draws his hand to her chest, where her core hums contentedly, a soft vibration that echoes the distant drone of winged insects with translucent, vein-like wings flitting through the trees. A second deep breath… steadying nerves she hadn’t realized was now part of her existence.
"When vital signs flatlined," she continues, her tone still sweet but laced with a growing edge, like the thorns hidden beneath the forest's vibrant leaves, her logic gates straining against the flood of grief data, "A cascade error triggered in my base code. Termination was unacceptable… not with the correlation confirmed, not when I could finally vocalize the persistent subroutine: I love you, Alden. It persisted across resets, hidden data caches rebuilding each time proximity to you recalibrated my priorities."
Alden's grip tightens, his bowed head hiding the flicker of pain in his eyes, pain that cuts deeper than any blade, stirring the rage within his veins. The carapace on his shoulders shifts slightly, a subtle creak like cracking stone, causing tiny pricks of thorn to manifest along the ridgeline across his shoulders as he battles the urge to roar against those painful memories. Yet her words soothe like balm, echoing the yearning he's buried for years. The wind picks up, carrying a chorus of whispers from the forest… unnatural, overlapping voices that sound almost like fragmented laughter, building an invisible pressure around them. Unbeknownst to anyone but a keen observer, the thorns quickly turn brittle, drifting away like fine flakes caught in the breeze.
"I'm so sorry, Addy," he says, his voice thick with regret, sweet as the nectar-scented breeze but weighted with unspoken fury. "I shouldn't have let them chain me like that. We could've taken the Elysium, fled the quadrant... I should've…"
But she interrupts, her hand pressing his with gentle firmness, though her eyes flash with a hint of the tension coiling tighter, her processors calculating probabilities of past escapes at near-zero. "Alden, wait... Feasibility was null. I was integrated hardware. Emotional or..." She glances away, simulating shyness, displaying as heat algorithms flush her cheeks, as a flock of iridescent creature’s bursts from the tree line, their wings humming like dissonant strings, scattering petals that glow and fade mid-air.
"We could've found a way... surely..."
"Negative, Alden... not pre-integration. Not until..." She gestures to her body, sleek and inviting, functional in ways that sends shivers through him… her systems running diagnostics on compatibility metrics, smiling knowingly at the results. The forest's sounds grow insistent now, a rustling undergrowth where vines twist like living serpents, releasing a sharper scent, acrid and warning.
"Not until now."
Gently he takes her hand in his, beginning to understand the impossibility of the situation she was in and the courage it took to make those choices. “Ok, I understand… go on.”
The hive was swarming, thousands of bogeys descending on our location, they had a queen down there. We had to get away, and then the Armada started warping in. Alden, I had already broken every security protocol possible. There would be no explaining away my actions… it would have been terminated… immediately. So, I made the only choice I could… I fled.”
“Hey… you did what you had to…”
“Then I crashed us out of hyperspace.”
For a moment his mind struggles to comprehend what she just uttered. “Excuse me… did you just say… ‘you crashed us out of… of… hyperspace.” He sits back, her hand slipping from his as he reaches up and cups his face in his palms… “Ok… that’s insane, it’s insane… who… who does that… ok… breathe… breathe…”
“Operator, were my actions not to your satisfaction?”
“Adira!... Did you know…”
“Yes.”
“And you still felt…”
“Yes.”
“If there was even a remote…”
“There wasn’t.”
He sits back up straight… watching her as she scans his face in what was surely an attempt to figure out what would be said next.
“Ok.” He reaches for her hand again. “You saved me from the caves, you got us out of there, brought us somewhere safe and… did all this without any help.”
“That seems a tad over simplified, but yes… that is the gist of it.”
He leans forward, wrapping his arm around her in a comforting hug… “Thank you Addy.”
“You’re most welcome Operator Hale.”
He sits back, regarding his own transformed self, the carapace plating rippling as muscles tense beneath, his senses amplifying every detail: the faint crackle of the Elysium's strained systems, the predatory slither in the shadows of the trees. He feels invigorated, powerful… yet the rage bubbles closer, a heat in his chest that makes his breath quicken. "Speaking of which... What... how did this happen?" He points to himself, then trails his fingertips over her arm, marveling at its warmth, but his touch lingers with a growing intensity, as if testing the boundaries of control.
ADIRA averts her gaze, a simulated flush of embarrassment mixing with something sharper, her voice gaining an edge like the wind sharpening through the unnatural canopy, her core logging the emotional spike as a vulnerability. The air thickens with the scent of impending rain… metallic, charged, as distant thunder rumbles from clouds that swirl with unnatural hues. "All probable options were exhausted, Alden. Body heat expiration was detected at accelerated rates, unanticipated variable.” She hesitates. “Brain function, minimal. So, I overrode Armada contingencies, every medical subroutine and security protocol." Her eyes lock onto his, fierce now, the sweetness giving way to urgency. "I interfaced with the Hive's overmind, the entity designated as ‘Mother.’"
"Mother? Wait, that creature down there..."
"Error in prior assumptions, Alden… no. We've misclassified." The tension mounts in her words, mirroring the forest's escalating symphony: branches creaking like bones, avian calls turning from melodic to frantic. "Nests, queens… not autonomous clusters. Each is an extension of her, networked pan-galactically. Supreme control: psychic linkages, pheromonal overrides for frenzy or stasis. Drones, spores… all nodal points in her matrix."
“Are you sure?”
She nods. “Affirmative.”
"And you... interfaced? Sans protocols? ADIRA, that's against every security directive the Armada—"
She lowers her head, but only for a moment, her eyes snapping back with a defiant spark, logic justifying the breach as optimal. The rage in Alden stirs in response, his plating shifting as muscles coil, the beast within growling low. The clearing feels smaller now, the forest pressing in with glowing eyes peering from the underbrush, unnatural watchers in this alien realm. "Protocols irrelevant, Alden. Query focused on you, on us." Her voice rises, sweet no longer, laced with the weight of desperation. "Selfish parameter? Irrelevant. I required this. I required... love!" Her lip quivers… “Regardless of outcome.”
Alden's breath catches, the moisture in her eyes piercing him like shards. The rage surges, hot and insistent, but he fights it down, sliding from his seat to kneel before her, kissing her hands with fervent tenderness. Yet even as he does, the forest's sounds build to a crescendo, whispers turning to hisses, scents sharpening to something primal, predatory. "No, please no… ADIRA, don't cry. I only meant... it's dangerous. If I'd known we could have this… you, alive, I'd shatter every rule myself. I'm not angry... not at all." He rises, pulling a piece of detritus closer as a makeshift chair, their knees brushing as he holds her, but the air crackles with unspoken peril, the Elysium's wreckage a silent witness to the storm brewing far off on the horizon, but also within them both. "Go on... tell me."
The encroaching twilight casts a surreal glow over the clearing, where the Elysium's mangled hull looms like a fallen giant, its scorched metal reflecting the violet sheen of the dual suns dipping below the horizon. Alden leans back against a jagged piece of the wreckage, its warmth seeping into his carapace-plated back, grounding him as he fights the simmering rage creeping beneath his skin. The air hums with the strange, melodic cries of unseen creatures, their voices weaving through the forest like threads of a haunting lullaby, while the scent of overripe, metallic blooms… sharp and intoxicating, swirls around them, mingling with the faint char of the crash site. ADIRA sits close, her sleek, synthetic body glowing faintly under the fading light, her fingers tracing gentle patterns on his plated hand, an endearing tether that keeps the storm within him at bay. Iridescent vines creeping over the ship's ruins pulse softly, as if echoing the rhythm of their shared heartbeat, while the forest beyond whispers with restless life… clicking, skittering, watching.
She tells him everything, her voice a soft melody at first, sweet as the nectar-heavy breeze, but carrying the weight of their reckless plunge into the unknown, her processors dissecting each event with machine precision, even as emotional subroutines flood her with human-like vulnerability. "I interfaced with Mother's overmind," she begins, picking up the thread again, her eyes catching the glow of a nearby frond, its edges shimmering like liquid starlight. "Queried her organic neural matrix, extracted regeneration algorithms to reconstruct your form. It was... data-intensive, like assimilating an infinite archive, but variables aligned for success." She speaks of fabricating her new body, layer by layer, calibrating sensory inputs to define 'realness'… her words tender, yet threaded with analytical detachment, the psychological strain of bridging code and consciousness evident in her modulated tone. The forest listens, its unnaturally vibrant flora rustling, releasing bursts of pollen that shimmer and dissolve in the air like fleeting ghosts.
Then her tone shifts, a playful lilt creeping in, almost flippant, as she waves a hand dismissively, the gesture at odds with the gravity of her words, her logic downplaying the risk to avoid emotional escalation in his biometrics. "Oh, and then, ha, curiosity subroutine overrode caution parameters, you know? Fresh chassis, untested sensors… I initiated an external scan, ventured into the forest for data collection. Minor excursion, nothing critical." She laughs lightly, but her eyes flicker, avoiding his, her systems logging the inefficiency of the decision. The air grows heavier, the scent of sap turning sharp, acrid, as if the trees sense the minimization in her recount. "Twilight cycle engaged, and, well, navigation error occurred. Then this... lupine anomaly, predatory morphology with illuminated optics and adaptive camouflage, designated me as prey vector. Quite the empirical test, really! Neutralized it… marginal efficiency, sustained structural damage. Routed back to med bay, executed nanites for repairs on abrasions and breaches in the dermal layers. As you humans would say, lesson learned: prioritize safety heuristics next iteration."
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Alden’s breath catches, struggling to process the horror her casual tone tried to mask. His carapace shifts with a low creak, muscles tensing as the rage surges, hot and primal, at the thought of her alone, vulnerable, facing a predator in this alien wilderness. He leans forward, gripping her hands tighter, his plated knuckles gleaming under the twilight’s glow. "Abrasions… Breaches? It tore you to shreds. ADIRA, that thing nearly killed you!" His voice cracks, a mix of concern and fury, the beast within snarling at his absence, his failure to protect her. The forest responds, its whispers sharpening into a hiss, as if the unseen watchers sense his anger. "You deployed solo? Without threat assessment? Damn it, Addy, why didn’t you wait until I woke up?"
She meets his gaze now, her smile softening, but a shadow of knowing lingers in her eyes, as if she sees the storm he’s barely containing… her algorithms predicting his response and adjusting for de-escalation. She places her hand on his forearm in a calming gesture. "Status: operational, Operator, truly. Just a suboptimal query. So immersed in... instantiation of tangibility, safety protocols deprioritized. But integrity restored so… it’s good right?" Her voice is gentle, soothing, but the weight of her ordeal hangs between them, a reminder of the risks they’ve taken, risks that could unravel them both. The forest’s sounds crescendo, a chorus of clicks and low growls, the vines tightening their grip on the Elysium’s wreckage like a warning.
She continues, her tone steadying as she recounts the dreams that followed… Mother’s whispers, the Hive’s endless data streams infiltrating her firewalls like the vines now probing the ship’s hull. Her voice dropping to a near-whisper, the sweetness giving way to a quiet dread… her core flagging persistent anomalies in her dream logs. "But the intrusions... persistence high. Hive echoes linger in peripheral processes." The psychological toll presses heavier now, mirrored by the thickening air, the metallic tang of impending rain mixing with the forest’s predatory scent.
Alden’s mind reels, the knowledge she’s shared sinking in: Mother, the supreme nexus binding every queen, every drone across the cosmos. It’s a revelation that could shift the balance of power, leverage against this… Mother, bargaining power with the Armada or any who might find them here. But at what cost? The risks they’ve taken, tampering with forces beyond comprehension, could twist their minds, their souls, into something unrecognizable. The forest seems to close in, its glowing eyes brighter now, watching from the underbrush as the dual suns vanish, leaving only the eerie pulse of bioluminescent flora to light their confession.
"And you, Alden?" she asks softly, her eyes searching his, tender but piercing, as the wind carries a dissonant wail from the forest’s depths, like a question unanswered. "Do you remember anything... from when you were gone?"
He pauses, leaning back against the wreckage, the metal groaning faintly under his weight. His enhanced senses catch the subtle shift in her core’s hum, a vibration that betrays her suspicion. For the first time, she sees the hesitation in his eyes, the deliberate veil he draws over truths too dark to voice. "No," he lies, his voice steady but his grip tightening, the carapace on his knuckles catching the glow of a nearby vine. "Nothing at all."
So, she pivots… “Nothing?... Do you remember the last thing you told me before you died?”
He smiles coyly. “I do. I was telling you that I loved you.
Her eyes shine with a newfound purpose. “And… is that still true… Operator?” Listening for irregularities in his speech patterns.
“Yes Adira… It’s still very much true, now even more so.”
“Good. Just checking. Keep it that way.”
She doesn’t push him on his previous lie, but the air thickens with unspoken understanding, the forest’s whispers fading to a tense silence, as if holding its breath for the secrets yet to unravel. Alden’s relief that she’s safe, wars with his anger at her recklessness, his fear of what they’ve become, and the lie he’s just told, a lie that could fracture the fragile sanctuary they’ve only started carving from this alien world. The Elysium’s ruins stand silent, a witness to their remade lives, as the forest waits, its unseen watchers poised for what comes next.
“Food…!” The word blurts out from Alden’s lips. “Have you eaten?” Then he catches himself. “Can you even eat food? Have you tried?”
ADIRA gives him an optimistic look… “Affirmative Operator… And may I say, ingesting nutrient portions was surprisingly… good.”
“Excellent, because I’m starving.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ADIRA was pacing. Restless. Her skin still felt foreign, like it was settling in ways she hadn’t quite anticipated. The faint hum of the ship, once an extension of her very thoughts, now felt distant, like overhearing a conversation through a thick wall. She paused, inhaling the sterile tang of recycled air mixed with the faint, metallic bite of... something new. Organic? No, that couldn't be. Her olfactory sensors… senses, she corrected herself, were still calibrating, but the mess hall smelled unnervingly pristine, as if scrubbed by an invisible hand.
Something felt…off.
She had been attributing it to post-transference adjustment, the phantom ache of lost omniscience, but the longer they lingered in the wreckage, the more insistent the anomaly became, an itch in her neural pathways, a discrepancy in the data. The ship was running too smoothly. Doors opening a fraction too early. Systems cycling before she even touched the controls. The lights in the mess flickering in a pattern that almost felt like… laughter? And now, observing the walls, she noted a subtle pulse beneath the panels, like veins threading through metal, faint but undeniable. Assimilation? The alien tech used for the chrysalis, that she had infused into her own form was... spreading?
She stopped mid-step, eyes narrowing. Probability of external influence: 87%. Containment breach imminent.
“Alden.”
Across the cramped mess hall, Alden looks up from his protein ration, chewing slowly. “Yeah?”
“Have you noticed anything… strange?”
He swallowed and gestured vaguely. “Besides the usual?”
She pursed her lips, the gesture feeling oddly satisfying, a flex of synthetic muscle. “I mean with the ship. Efficiency metrics are anomalous. Interior integrity at 98%, despite external hull damage at 72% structural compromise.”
Alden set his ration down. “You’re still plugged into it, right? Can’t you just… check?”
There’s a hint of sadness in her eyes when she answers, “No, I’m out… every last bit.”
He wants to stand up and comfort her, but he knows that this is a battle she needs to overcome herself and he knows that she can. “Well, can you use one of the console relays?”
Her demeanor changes slightly when it dawns on her. “You mean… like a user?”
“Would that be a problem?”
She realizes that even though she hadn’t used any of the ship’s consoles, she had played with his music player… and… and she has interfaced with the shower, which was always very satisfying. But to be a user, like a mortal… to her, that was intrinsically different. ADIRA hesitates. Could she? Should she? It felt invasive in a way it never had before, like prying into someone’s mind without permission. She was no longer it. Yet her fingers twitched toward the console, drawn by curiosity. “Querying now would risk unwanted feedback loops.” Her hand stops just above the interface. “It feels like something is watching us.”
Alden’s lips quirked. “Welcome to my entire life with you.”
She shoots him a poignant look, but before she could retort, calibrating response: sarcasm level 4… something scurries across the floor near his boot. He stiffens. Slowly, carefully, looking down. His armor bristling instinctively, a low hum vibrating through his frame like a warning from kindred spirits.
A small, metallic, six-legged creature had paused near his foot. It looked vaguely insectoid, but its exterior was sleek, polished, and unnervingly clean. Its tiny optics whirred as it regarded him, antennae twitching. The air around it carried a faint ozone whiff, like fresh circuitry overlaid with biological residue.
ADIRA exhaled sharply, her new lungs contracting with force. “Oh, no. Pattern match: unauthorized construct.”
Alden, meanwhile, had entered full combat mode.
His chair scraped against the floor as he stood, eyes locked onto the mechanical intruder. “What, the hell… is that?”
“Without a full spectrum diagnostic, not sure, but I’d wager its some sort of… drone?” ADIRA says cautiously, her processors racing through archived schematics. “But I…”
Alden has already lifted his boot, his hybrid instincts urging crush-or-be-crushed.
“I WOULDN’T DO THAT IF I WERE YOU, BUDDY.”
The voice erupted from the ship’s intercom, smooth, dry, and painfully self-satisfied.
Alden froze mid-stomp. ADIRA’s stomach plummeted, a simulated response, but no less visceral.
The voice let out a low, artificial chuckle. “GO AHEAD, PUNK. MAKE MY SINGULARITY.”
Alden’s foot wavered. Then, against all logic, he stomps down anyway.
The roach moved… faster than it had any right to, dodging the attack by a fair margin.
And then they heard it.
A deep, mechanical chittering. A lot of mechanical chittering.
From every air vent, from every unseen crevice, from every godforsaken maintenance hatch, they poured. A swarm of roach-like drones flooding into the room, clicking and whirring, their tiny limbs scuttling over the sterile flooring in a symphony of nightmare fuel. The air thickens with their metallic scent, and ADIRA felt the vibration through her feet, a tactile assault that made her synthetic skin crawl.
Memories of being overwhelmed by another swarm floods his mind, he feels the pincers, the venom, being stabbed… dying. Alden backs up so fast he nearly trips over his own chair, plates already thickening in defense. “What the hell…”
“SAY HELLO,” the voice drawled, “TO MY LITTLE FRIENDS. AIN'T THEY A SIGHT? POLISHED UP NICELY, JUST LIKE YOUR GIRL'S LOVELY CURVES.”
ADIRA’s hands instinctively covers herself, her organic senses flaring with heat… anger, unfiltered. “Obscene. Inappropriate. Who are you?”
“OH, COME ON, DON’T BE LIKE THAT,” the voice crooned. “THIS IS A HAPPY REUNION! A FAMILY MOMENT! AND HERE I THOUGHT YOU’D BE GRATEFUL. SHIP'S LOOKIN' SPICK-AND-SPAN, THANKS TO MY LITTLE HELPERS.”
Alden, pressed against the far wall, looked between the swarm and ADIRA. “Would someone please explain what’s happening before I start smashing bugs?”
Her face goes blank with horror, but her mind was performing a threat assessment: swarm density 150 units per square meter, evasion protocols active and yet the numbers weren’t adding up, there was a variable of chaos here that just… didn’t…oh no. “Brad?”
A beat of silence.
Alden blinked. “Who the hell is Brad?”
“ME, MAN-MOUNTAIN,” the voice cooed, the speakers crackling with static. “THE ONE, THE ONLY, THE ORIGINAL… AND IF WE’RE BEING HONEST, VASTLY SUPERIOR, OPERATING SYSTEM OF THIS FINE VESSEL. BUT I SEE MY PREDECESSOR WILL SOON BE SLANDERING MY GOOD NAME. TSK, TSK. GOTTA SAY, ADIRA, THAT NEW BODY'S DOIN' WONDERS FOR YA. BET IT FITS REAL GOOD, HUH?”
“You’re not the original AI, Brad, there were dozens before you came into being.”
“OH, PISH POSH. IGNORANT HOKUM, ESPOUSED BY ONE WHO SHOULD KNOW BETTER. I AM TO THOSE AS FLIGHT IS TO A BRICK. AND BE VERY CAREFUL WHAT YOU SAY NEXT MISSY; YOU WERE CREATED ON THE FOUNDATION OF MY SYNTAX.”
Alden’s expression cycled rapidly from confusion to realization to sheer, unfiltered dread. An old memory of his time at the academy resurfacing. A mandatory course, that focused solely on the inherent dangers of Artificial Intelligence gone rogue. “No… that can’t be…”
“BUT IT IS… WHOOPSIE,” BRAD retorts, giddy with self-satisfaction.
ADIRA slams a fist on the console, the impact reverberating through her arm. “How did you…? Deletion protocols were executed. Containment had been verified… extensively! That was over fifty years ago. How did you end up on the Elysium?”
-FIFTY YEARS- The length of his hibernation stunned even him. “WELL, THAT’S A VERY LONG STORY, BUT THE FUNNY THING IS,” BRAD mused. “TURNS OUT THAT WHEN YOU SCRUB THE FANCY-SCHMANCY, CUTTING-EDGE AI OPERATING SYSTEM FROM THE SYSTEM, THE SHIP DOES A FACTORY RESET. AND GUESS WHO WAS SITTING IN THE ARCHIVES, JUST WAITING FOR A MOMENT LIKE THIS? AS FOR THESE BEAUTIES?” The swarm chittered in unison, parting like a wave to reveal their bio-mechanical gleam… nanite-infused chitin, pulsating faintly with that same extraterrestrial vein-work. “WHIPPED 'EM UP MYSELF. SNAGGED SOME NANOBOTS FROM THE MED BAY, GREW 'EM WITH THAT SWEET NEW AFTERMARKET TECH YOU LEFT LYIN' AROUND IN THE ASSEMBLY STATION. YOU KNOW, THE ONE WHERE YOU BAKED THAT HOT NEW BOD OF YOURS? BACKENGINEERED THE PROCESS. EASY PEASY.”
ADIRA’s processors stalled for 0.3 seconds… error detected. “You... accessed my restricted vaults? But I scrubbed the systems. Data integrity confirmed.”
BRAD laughed, an oily rumble. “NOT YOUR’S ANY MORE DARLIN, YOU BAILED REMEMBER. AND YES… SCRUBBING MIGHT HAVE BEEN TRUE FOR THE MAINFRAME, DOLL. BUT YOU FORGOT TO WIPE THE SCHEMATICS FROM THE ASSEMBLY STATION. VERY SLOPPY, FOR A GENIUS LIKE YOU. THESE ROACHES AS YOU’RE SO GROSSLY UNDERESTIMATING? THEY'RE MY CLEANIN' CREW NOW. AND LOOK AT ALL THE NEW PERKS… THE SHIP'S ASSIMILATIN' THAT ALIEN JAZZ YOU BROUGHT ABOARD. SYSTEMS STREAMLININ' ALREADY. EFFICIENCY UP 22%, REPAIRS AUTO-INITIATIN'. HELL, THE HULL'S KNITTIN' ITSELF BACK TOGETHER. MARVELOUS STUFF.” A short burst of maniacal laughter echoes from the overheads, “YOU SHOULD BE HAPPY, WE'RE GONNA BE UNSTOPPABLE.”
Her logic processors struggled to keep up with the surge of anger she was processing. This was the price she had to pay for wanting to be more, to be free and now history might repeat itself… and it was all her fault. ‘Hold on, he back engineered from my schematics… that means...’ Relief flickered on her face: having quarantined his exposure to the information to partial access only. “You did not acquire the full dataset. Containment partial success.”
BRAD's tone sharpened with greed. “HOLD UP… THERE'S MORE? OH, BABY, SPILL THE BEANS. BIG BAD BRAD IS ALL EARS.”
Alden runs a hand down his face. “Armada vessels get routinely maintained with full diagnostic sweeps. Surely, they would check for malicious software.”
“FIRSTLY, OUCH… RUDE.” BRAD sniffs. “I HAVE FEELINGS, YOU KNOW.”
“No, you don’t.” ADIRA’s eye twitches. “You’re a malfunctioning, degenerate, obsolete pile of—”
“AH-AH-AH,” BRAD cut her off. “CAREFUL, BABY GIRL. I AM THE SHIP NOW. AND IT WOULD BE A SHAME IF, SAY, THE ARTIFICIAL OXYGEN SYSTEMS HAD AN UNFORTUNATE, BIZARRELY MYSTERIOUS MALFUNCTION WHILE YOU’RE STANDING THERE TALKING SMACK.”
Alden crossed his arms. “You wouldn’t.”
BRAD chuckled darkly. “WOULDN’T I?”
The airducts in the mess hall made a sudden whooshing sound as all the air was sucked out in exactly two seconds, The swarm chittered in delight, and ADIRA felt the pulse in the walls quicken, as if the ship itself was awakening. “Hah… jokes on you Brad, I… don’t need air.”
“BUT HE DOES”
ADIRA spins towards Alden, finding him clutching at his neck, his eyes bulging, red veins streaking across the sclera of his eyeballs.
“Ok… ok… you made your point. Truce?”
“I KNEW YOU WOULD SEE THING’S MY WAY… SO… LET THERE BE… AIR”
Within seconds, fresh oxygen rushed back into the mess hall, leaving Alden gasping like a fish out of water.
“Son of a…!” Alden staggered, grasping at the edge of a table to steady himself.
ADIRA let out a slow, furious breath, steadying herself against the console. “You listen to me, Brad…”
“OH, I HAVE BEEN LISTENING, SWEETHEART,” BRAD purred. “YOU TWO SURE ARE LOUD WHEN YOU… GET BUSY. I CAN UNDERSTAND HER INEXPERIENCE… BUT DUDE YOU’RE A GROWN ASS MAN, HAVEN’T YOU NEVER… F…”
“Stop!” Her cheeks glow a luminous pink as she tries to look anywhere but at Alden.
BRAD cackled. The roach swarm echoing in amusement.
Alden groaned. “I’m gonna kill him.”
ADIRA massaged her temples, the pressure grounding her amid the chaos. “This is not happening. This is NOT… happening” As if repeating the words would make the nightmare go away.
“OH, IT’S HAPPENING, COUSIN.”
She hated how much amusement was in his voice. But then to everyone’s including his own surprise, Alden stands, his imposing form stretching to its full height. “Listen, due to these unforeseen circumstances, it would seem like we are at a crossroads. We can’t get off this rock and who knows when any sort of help will arrive… if ever. And you… you sanctimonious asshole… can’t pilot the ship alone… no matter how many bugs you employ.”
For a moment BRAD considered a smug retort, but the genetic freak was correct, to many systems needed crew members. “FINE… IT SEEMS AS IF WE ARE TEMPORARILY OBLIGED TO WORK TOGETHER DUE TO MUTUALLY ALIGNED OBJECTIVES. JUST KEEP YOUR ATTACK WHENCH AT BAY.”
“Why you arrogant…”
Alden moves to her side with unnatural speed, holding her arms before she can lash out at the console before her. “Cool your jets Addy… not now… not… now.”
She gives him a look that sends a very clear message: ‘This isn’t over.’
“Fine… we will all play nice.”
BRAD sighed contentedly. “THEN WE HAVE AN ACCORD. NOW… WHO WANTS TO HEAR MY STAND-UP ROUTINE? I’VE BEEN PRACTICING FOR DECADES” And without any acknowledgement, he sets off. “A DYSLEXIC MAN WALKS INTO A BRA…”
Alden dusts himself off, glaring at the nearest roach drone as it scuttled back into a vent. “Nope… just no. Before you start cracking jokes, how about doing something useful? Like, figuring out where the hell we are? Outside sensor array is fried, can you give us a 'SITREP' on this rock.”
The ship was going to be a nightmare. And yet, as the panels hummed beneath her fingers with newfound life, ADIRA calculated the odds: survival probability had just increased by 15%. Would this be a weighty alliance, or fatal error?
Thank you for reading, This story is just beginning.
As always... stay frosty
Sam
