Faith in Superior Firepower [Planetary Annihilation Multicross SI]

[Faith]

40 - Collateral
The Rebel ships jumped into FTL, vanishing into the black just as the first of my Pilgrims arrived. I wasn't sure where Orrpal was - although I could certainly check with my now fairly up-to-date navigation records, - but it didn't matter. I knew where Earth was - or at least, I knew where Sol was, - and my fleets were more than capable of getting there quickly.

But if it was the seat of Federation power, then I wanted to hit with overwhelming force. They would no doubt have huge fleets stationed near their homeworld.

Which, in hindsight, made Genisys's boast about hacking the network actually impressive.

The Pilgrims gathered on the edge of the system, forming into a V before moving towards the station. Their cloaking drives were obviously working, because neither the retreating Rebel ships nor the station attempted to hail them.

I marked the most serious points of damage on the station and ordered the Pilgrims to repair them.

Or at least, I tried to.

[ERROR: INSUFFICIENT RESOURCES]

I... wasn't exactly sure what the deal with that was, honestly. Unless the space station was several dozen orders of magnitude bigger than I had anticipated, there was no way it could have required so many resources. After all, I thought as I brought up the ship's logs, I had access to all that metal.

All that...zero metal?

Why were my ships reading zero metal?

I quickly skimmed through the ship's design, worried I'd accidentally left of the resource transfer systems or something stupid, but no, they were still there, all linked up like they were supposed to be.

Unsure of the problem, I went deeper into the ship's logs. I wanted to know if they were unable to connect completely, or if it was just here, so far away, that they had lost connection.

According to the logs, the ships had gone from over forty thousand units of metal to zero just a few seconds before they jumped. Which meant it wasn't because they were out of range - they would only have lost it upon exiting the jump. The systems had definitely reactivated at the end of the jump, but they weren't connecting to the greater whole for some reason.

Hm.

The ship lost connection to the resource transfer system three seconds before the jump drive engaged. What else happened three seconds before the jump drive engaged?

Oh.

Cloaking.

The cloaking drive knocked the ship out of phase with the rest of the world.

Far enough, apparently, that my ships couldn't automatically link with the resource network. Communications were unaffected, thankfully, but the resource link was totally unworkable.

Just as a test, I attempted to use the Starsong's fabricators for the repairs. Same issue.

Whether I could fix it or not, I wasn't sure. It was certainly worth a look, but I was slightly pressed for time, what with Merridew venting atmosphere from a number of hull breaches and everything.

Seeing no other real options, I simply disengaged the cloaking drives, on both the Starsong and the five Pilgrims, and watched as each ship's metal 'reserves' rocketed back up into the thousands.

Much better.

Just a few seconds later, the ships received a hail.

"Unidentified ships, this is Merridew Station. We have suffered serious damage and request assistance," the caller explained. "Can you help us?"

Had I only a human face, I would have smirked. I had to settle for my NeoAvatar, aboard the Starsong, doing it for me.

With a mental command, I activated the communications gear set up on the co-pilot's dash and sat my NeoAvatar down, waving merrily at the somewhat distressed young woman from Merridew Station, noting idly the fact that she had an oxygen mask pressed against her face.

"This is Abigail Drake, captain of the Starsong. We'll be happy to assist. Ajax, take us in."

The fact that I would be taking advantage of the chance to seize every scrap of technology remotely close to Merridew Station went unsaid.

---

Whilst the Starsong moved around to one of the intact airlocks to dock, the five Pilgrims gathered around the asteroid, microthrusters pushing the craft gently around the station buried within.

As they moved over the damaged sections of hull, clouds of green nanobots dropped from the keel of the ships and clustered around the torn and ripped plates, melting into them and beginning a slow but steady repair.

Each of the three damaged hangars had a Pilgrim hovering above, rapidly repairing the damage done. One more moved around the length of the station's outer corridor, the one that had been torn apart by beam fire, and sewed together the components, sealing them in place at the atomic level in a way that indicated they'd never been broken in the first place.

The final Pilgrim drifted rather aimlessly across the station, fixing up any minor breaches and damage it encountered. It was working slower than the others - mainly because I'd hijacked a large number of nanobots to explore the station more thoroughly.

They didn't have much of note - although I did end up with a laundry list of internal systems that could do with replacing. For now, though, I was more interested in the station's interior - fixing the life support could wait until I'd verified that there was still life to support somewhere on the station.

Sure enough, there were clusters of life forms scattered about. A rather large number, actually. I only noted a few areas lacking in life signs, all areas where exposed hull had been breached by weapons fire. The rooms deeper in, buried within the rock, were totally fine.

The other large concentration of life signs was the living spire that the Rebel ship had crashed into. Though the main part of the tower was damaged, each room was individually sealed and most of them had gotten off intact - even if the inhabitants couldn't go anywhere, due to the massive structural damage.

I directed one of the Pilgrims to move over to the tower and begin repairs, and a couple of seconds later, as it finished the last bits of work on Hanger 02, it shot off, crossing the short distance in seconds before engaging the fabricators once more.

Happy that my various Pilgrims had enough tasks queued up to keep them occupied, I returned to my interior dive of the station.

There wasn't much in the way of useful gear. A lot was variations of stuff I already had - upscaled reactor and shield equipment, sensors, some drones - I didn't have the blueprints for System Repair or Anti-Personnel drones, so I took the time to hack into their systems and steal those, - and more than a few surplus weapons.

Not enough to really give either the Rebels or the Federation much advantage, but still enough to be of some use to a civilian militia or something.

And finally, deep within the station, in what appeared to be some sort of large cargo bay, there was a Teleporter set up.

Yoink.

That would no doubt prove useful for something. Instantanious movement of matter from A to B, rules be damned. And the Teleporter pads were a hell of a lot smaller than the Teleporter Gates I was currently using. Plus, they could teleport from the pad to anywhere, as opposed to needing a second gate as mine...

Probably didn't, actually. I mean, I recalled them being incapable of operating concurrently but the fact that I could load several Voyagers at once using them back on Loek III totally debunked that. Plus, I was pretty sure I remembered Commanders teleporting onto battlefields, where there were no gates set up, so evidently gate-to-point technology existed.

Whether or not I was right, I didn't really care. I added the blueprints to my database and kept going. I didn't really have time to screw around with the new technology immediately - Merridew Station was still fairly badly damaged, and I really wanted to get that problem out of the way first.

The Pilgrims were wrapping up their work on the outer hull, and so I turned my surplus nanobots - from all sources, - and set to work on the inside.

The station's three reactors underwent sequential upgrades, replacing both the reactors themselves and the cooling pump with vastly more efficient methods. Whilst there was still wired transfer of power, I did develop a special ultra-high capacity cable for such purposes.

The ageing life support device was no longer worthy of the name 'life support', since it was covered in rust and full of possibly toxic metals, so I replaced that too. Not with FTLverse life support but a Core - if anyone asked, I'd tell the the truth - that it was developed by a bunch of scientists for colonising distant planets. People won't care. They never do.

Especially if I tell them it's zero maintenance, zero pollution, zero effort, and generates energy as well. Admittedly a large amount of complex machinery is required to make use of that energy, but I was giving them that as well, so they had no cause to complain.

The air vents were also cleaned, reinforced, and generally improved. The station-wide wireless network's routers received major overhauls, and a number of new ones were placed as well.

And in the thirty or so seconds that took, Starsong gently nudged the station's airlock with its own, and the ship docked.

'I' stood in the airlock as a number of pipes and vents hissed, the air on both sides of the door equalizing before the metal panels slid open. Two burly looking miners stood before the door, and I smiled warmly at the pair, waving casually with one hand.

"Sup."

 

[Faith]

Double post but guess what?

NEW CHAPTER THAT'S WHAT!

---

41 - Renovation
The two miners smiled back at me from behind their transparent face masks, before one gestured behind him. "The Governor would like to see you. Your ships have already begun repairs, yes?"

I nodded as the three of us started walking down the corridor. "They're almost done, actually. Well, almost done with the hull breaches, anyway. The missing corridor on the outside is going to take a couple of minutes, just to gather up the pieces and glue them back together."

The two men frowned as I explained. "Almost done? How?"

They were almost making it too easy for me, at this point.

I smirked and looked around - the walls here were dull metal, with faded paint and patches of rust. I made a note for the Pilgrims to patch this place up as well.

"Well, the answer to that is simple. They were developed by the Faith Foundation as an improvement over traditional medical technologies, but they found the improvements made them viable in other functions as well, so now we use them for construction and maintenance as well."

The two miners nodded, but looked puzzled. "That's great, but, uh... what are they?"

"Nanomachines, son."

For a moment the only sound was the clanking of metal boots on metal deck, before one of the men, sounding puzzled, asked another question. "Nanobots used for construction? How do you make them strong enough to-"

"I'm going to cut you off there, sorry. I'm a captain, not an engineer," I lied - well, it wasn't really a lie. I wasn't an engineer by formal education, at least, although I admittedly had some experience in the field, what with the spaceships and the robots.

"Oh, I see. Sorry. It's just, I'm an engineer by trade, is all," the miner - or, engineer, I suppose, - explained sheepishly.

"No, it's no problem."

The three of us stepped into an elevator and the engineer pushed a button. After a couple of seconds the lift began to slide upwards at a steady pace, carrying us presumably up to one of the spires that dotted the 'upper' surface of the asteroid. The two humans removed their masks. "We weren't sure about damage on the lower level, but up in command the atmosphere's fine," the engineer explained. "You, uh, probably should have been wearing a mask as well."

I shrugged. "Scanners said the atmo was fine. Who am I to argue?"

The doors slid apart, revealing on the other side two humanoid figures. One was a Human, dressed in a sharp-looking suit that reminded me of The Illusive Man from Mass Effect, and the other was an Engi, one who was far bulkier than others I had seen, due likely to the heavy looking orange plates covering his figure. Some kind of space suit, by the looks of things.

It took them only a half-second to correct, but I couldn't help but notice that both had been staring at the space between the faces of the two men who were escorting me - a space about a foot above my head.

Maybe I should have made this body taller.

"Captain Drake," the Human greeted, extending a hand. "I'm Governor Kobill, the head of the station. Thank you very much for providing your assistance. I don't know how your ships are doing it, but hull breaches have been repaired all across the board. We had a few power fluctuations, but they've since levelled out."

"Oh, right," I spoke before anyone else could. "I forgot to mention, after we finished repairing your hull, we sent the nanobots tto fix some of your internal systems. They cleared out the vents, improved air flow through them, fixed the broken lights scattered about, improved coverage of your wireless network to encompass the whole station, and operate at much higher speed, reworked your power cables so they can carry more at once and, speaking of power, totally overhauled all three of your generators. You won't have to worry about running out of power any time in the next... uh, until the heat death of the universe. Give or take a century. Probably give."

My escorts, the Governor, and every other Human in earshot was staring at me, eyes wide, jaw hanging open.

I kept my face straight as I looked between them. "What?"

The Engi was the first to recover - being a sentient mass of nanobots, he probably had a lot more computational power than the Humans with their squishy think meats. Or maybe not? The brain was supposed to be pretty powerful, after all.

Either way, he recovered first. "Facial recognition program suggests a 97% probability that you are telling the truth."

I nodded casually. "What's the point of lying? You'd be able to figure out if we did or didn't do anything in three seconds just be checking. Speaking of, we redid your life support as well. Your old one was slightly shit. The new one converts all the random shit in the air into nice, breathable atmosphere using some high power radiation shenanigans I'm not paid enough to understand. Rigged up for humans, but since we're all breathing without masks right now, it's safe to say that that's already the case, right?"

Silence reigned.

"So, uh. That's the rundown on all the repairs. Anything else you need?"

---

Of course, whilst 'I' was busy screwing around with the Merridew officials, another part of me was dealing with my fleet. My steadily growing fleet. Currently sitting at around one thousand Tracker Ion Corvettes, five Wayfarers, and three half-built Migrants. Even building all eight resource cores simultaneously, it was still taking a fair while.

Although once they were done, they would be able to build more Trackers, freeing up more factories to work on Migrants without impacting my ability to vomit out Trackers at a blatantly unfair rate.

Ah, exponential growth. Gotta love it.

Of course, it would be foolish of me to build an army without doing proper recon.

So I had two Avenger fighters, with Cloaking, Sensors, and FTL drives bolted on, currently racing away from my little asteroid haven towards Earth.

One to spy on the Rebels, and one to spy on the Feds.

---

The Engi pushed the panel back into place and stood up, turning to face our group. "The system appears to be operational, although the details of its constructions are beyond my knowledge. As with the rest."

The assembled engineers shared glances and muttered exclamations before resuming their intent stares at the reactor. Apparently, all of them thought they might figure out its secrets by gazing intently at it - because that had worked so well on the first two reactors.

"Well, Captain Drake, that was the last one. I have no idea how any of this works, or how you did it so fast, but I appreciate it none-the-less," the Governor said with a huge grin. "You've saved us a massive amount of time and expense. How can we repay you?"

"Great! As for payment, uh..."

Shit. This was something that I had completely overlooked.

"No payments or donations are required. I mean, it's not like we're in a rush or anything. We're on our way to another Faith Foundation facility to show off the Pilgrim construction vessels, they won't mind if we're late. Doing our good deed for the day, and all."

The Governor paused for a moment before nodding happily. "Well, I'm glad we're not inconveniencing you, but are you sure you can't be convinced to accept payment?"

"Quite, Governor. That said, now that we're done confirming the upgrades all work, would it possible for us to go? Whilst I'm sure Director Glade won't mind, we really should be getting there sooner, rather than later."

Actually, I wanted to go so I didn't have the social interactions distracting me whilst I dealt with the two huge war fleets currently amassing and preparing for a final, epic confrontation over Earth, but I wasn't about to say that.

The Governor continued nodding happily. "Not at all! Although I believe Unit over there wanted to talk to you," he mentioned as he gestured to the Engi in question.

I shrugged and took my leave, weaving through the crowd of astounded engineers with a practised ease before coming face to face with the sentient nanite swarm.

"Unit," I greeted warmly, "you wanted to talk?"

The Engi nodded, red eye dimming. "Your 'Pilgrim' construction ships. The nanomachines they employ are several levels beyond even the technology of the Zoltan and the Engi. The computational power required to scan, identify, and design upgrades for the entire station in approximately two hundred seconds is infeasibly vast. Additionally, there is no recorded group as the Faith Foundation."

Oh. Oh.

Unaware of my internal monologue, Unit continued his little lecture. "I believe that you are not the people you claim to be."

"Ah. Well, you see, the thing about that is that the Faith Foundation are actually entirely self-sufficient. We operate under the guidance of no governing body, so we're not in any records. As for the technology, well, I'm not really the one to ask. Like I said before, I'm the captain of an escort vessel, not an engineering genius. Sorry. I, uh, I guess I can ask some of the scientists to come and explain it, but I doubt they will. Sorry."

The metal plates that made up the Engi's 'brow' furrowed, his ominously red eye darkening slightly.

Buy it, buy it, buy it, buy it...

"Understood. You wish to leave the station, now?"

I nodded, mentally releasing a deeply held breath.

"Very well. Best of luck in your endeavours."

Ha!

The Starsong, and her new fleet of Pilgrims, would be smooth sailing from here on in. They wouldn't need any luck at all.

I was far more worried about the upcoming climax to the civil war.

 

[Faith]

Wuh-hey! Chapter! Woo!

---

42 - To Earth

I checked the status of my fleet.

One thousand, nine hundred and twelve Tracker Ion Corvettes, packing enough Ion Weaponry to stunlock three or four ships at once.

Seventy five Wayfarers, mounting cannons that could carve through hull plate like so much tissue paper.

Ten Migrants, mobile shipyards which even now were building more Trackers.

Two Pilgrims, because they hadn't been finished in time for Merridew and I decided to let them tag along for shits and giggles.

And a single Astraeus, carrying the Osiris which housed my core. Necessary? Not really. Dangerous? Perhaps. But I wanted to be there... in person, so to speak. Also, it bought my ship count nicely up to two thousand.

All two thousand vessels engaged their FTL drives as once, propelling themselves first out of phase with reality, and then headlong towards Earth, engines glowing a brilliant blue, almost white.

In the handful of seconds it took them to make the jump, I skipped over to the viewpoint of my spy ships, watching over the Rebel and Federation fleets.

- - -

Over Earth, the Federation Fleet was gathering - forming some sort of battle line between the planet and the Orrpal system. How they knew that was where the Rebels were coming from, I had no idea, but it didn't really matter.

What did matter was the size of their fleet.

There were approximately three and a half thousand of their vessels around, the numbers bolstered further by dozens if not hundreds of orbital stations and shipyards, both over Earth and the Moon. They outnumbered me. Luckily, what my ships lacked in numbers they made up for in firepower - or at least, I hoped they would.

Of the roughly three point six thousand combatants, then, their force was divided into two rather clear groups - 'fighters' and capital ships.

The bulk of the fighting force were smaller ships, the 'fighters', ranging from ten to thirty metres in length. They were the Federation Fighters, Bombers, Riggers, Freighters (such as the Kestrel), and Air Cruisers (such as the Osprey). I had no idea why they were called Air Cruisers - perhaps they were the kind capable of flying in atmosphere, and there was a bigger 'mainline' Cruiser for space combat?

Those ships made up about two and a half thousand of the present ships, with Fighters the most common and Freighters the rarest, by a large margin. I vaguely recalled that they may not have been primary combat units, only pushed into service due to the rise of the Rebels. The balance of small ships gave the Federation a wide variety of options - though each ship's loadout was unique, the general pattern seemed to fairly uniform.

The Fighters were packing weapons such as lasers and ions, effective at disabling enemy shields, whilst Bombers and Riggers brought in the heavy firepower, missiles and drones respectively. The Air Cruisers would likely be relying on their artillery beams - assuming they all had them - for picking off enemy vessels, the 'sniper' of the small ships, and the Freighters were impossible to nail down. I tentatively labelled them as the 'all rounder' class, and made a note not to make any assumptions.

The rest of the Federation's bulk fighting force was larger ships - Frigates, Destroyers, and Cruisers of the more traditional sense. Unlike the smaller ships, I had never had to face these in the game, and knew relatively little about them, but after a few Stealth Avenger flybys, I figured I had a pretty good idea.

Frigates seemed to be packing a lot of rapid-fire weapons, smaller laser and missile type weapons with the occasional ion or beam thrown in. At about two hundred metres long, they didn't really have much room for heavier firepower, I supposed. It made sense to relegate them to anti-fighter duty, then.

Destroyers, on the other hand, were largely lacking in terms of the number of armaments - but what they lacked in variety, they made up for in size. They seemed to consist primarily of spinal-mounted heavy weaponry, with everything else tacked on almost as an afterthought. Reminded me a lot of the UNSC, from Halo. I wondered if any of them were equipped with mass drivers - four hundred metre long rail cannons would ruin anyone's day, provided the shell was fitted with a shield disruptor.

Cruisers were more well-rounded, five hundred metres of space-borne destruction, packing spinal artillery beams, heavy deck guns and a fair number of point defence guns, too. There was nothing much to say about them, except for their impressive numbers - of the thousand 'large' vessels, cruisers made up almost seven hundred. Many hung alongside, or were docked to, the space stations - presumably receiving last-minute resupplies and repairs.

Speaking of the space stations - there were sixty four of them, scattered throughout Earth and the Moon's orbits. Each one was armed just as heavily as the cruisers surrounding it, and no doubt just as well defended.

Even for me, the prospect of trying to invade such a fortified place was... daunting. Terrifying, even.

Most terrifying, though? The Dreadnoughts.

There were sixteen of them, drifting in a cluster near the largest of the Federation's space stations. Nine hundred metres of armour plated, energy shielded, space-borne fuck you, with enough firepower in each of the three spinal cannons to warrant drawing a few new rivers or valleys on the map, and the ability to shrug off such firepower in return.

Altogether, the Federation fleet was a vast, well equipped fighting force - even outnumbered by the Rebels, if it wasn't for the Rebel Flagship, they supposedly would have had a chance, and I could totally see it. Sixteen Dreadnoughts made for a hell of an equalizer.

- - -

The Rebels were gathering in force. Four thousand or so vessels of all shapes and sizes, forming into clusters of fifty or so ships all throughout the system.

There was no form of organisation, unlike the Federation fleet. Groups of modified civilian vessels armed with bolted-on guns gathered around older model Federation vessels, making their own little fleets.

How they intended to match the unified and organised Federation defences, I had no idea, but according to the game it was pretty much guaranteed that the Rebels would win.

They did have a number advantage, I supposed.

Their small vessels - Fighters, Bombers, Riggers, and Freighters, mostly, - made up the bulk of their force - clearly that was a major part of their combat doctrine here. There were about two thousand eight hundred of those drifting about, and armaments were massively varied, although I assumed that for the most part they filled the same role as their Federation counterparts.

My main worry regarding their fleet was the capital ships. Compared to the Federation's thousand or so, the Rebels had nearly one thousand three hundred, ranging again from two hundred metre Frigates to the half-kilometre long cruisers.

The distribution of them was slightly skewed, however. Where the Federation had a lot of Cruisers, with relatively few Destroyers and Frigates, the Rebels seemed far more evenly distributed. Four hundred Frigates, three hundred and seventy Destroyers, five hundred Cruisers, and, thankfully, only two Dreadnoughts. And from what I could tell, they, like the Rebel's smaller craft, seemed predominantly to be older models - presumably the junky backwater guardians easily hijacked or swayed to the rebel side. Very few were the same modern, streamlined designs common amongst the Federation fleets.

Their advantage was numbers, not firepower. Not that they were particularly lacking in either, but the Federation did have a slightly higher dakka-to-ship ratio than the Rebels.

Somewhere amongst their number was the Flagship, I presumed, although the relatively weak sensors on the Stealth Avenger lacked the definition to pick it out from distance amidst the mess of warships

From what I could intercept of the transmissions from as far away as the Stealth Avenger was, they too were readying themselves for the final push. Ships were restocking, rearming, and undergoing major repairs across the board. They were getting themselves ready to jump into what would be, unless I intervened, a long, bloody, and destructive battle.

- - -

Back in the Sol system, a bored sensor operator sat at his terminal, eyes wandering everywhere but the screen. Why Federation command though they'd need two dozen sensor operators watching the same patch of space with the same equipment, he didn't know, and it seemed totally redundant to him, but he wasn't about to argue when the order came directly from Admiral Tully.

Suddenly, his console began to beep, and a single red dot appeared on his screen.

"Unknown vessel detected," the digital voice whispered through his headset.

Another red dot appeared on the screen.

"Unknown vessel detected."

The other sensor operators were all sitting upright in their seats now, eyes glued to the screen. He could hear the commander relaying the news to the Admirals.

Yet another blip flashed into existence. The girl at the console next to his gulped loudly.

"Unknown vessel detected."

Another appeared. Then one more.

"Unknown vessel detected. Unknown vessel detected."

And then more appeared. Dozens, hundreds, even. The top of his screen, formerly blue speckled with red, was now a mass of crimson.

"Unknown vessel detected. Unknown vessel detected. Unknown vessel detected. Unknown vessel detected. Unknown vessel detected. Unknown vessel detected. Unknown vessel detected. Unknown vessel detected. Unknown vessel detected. Unknown vessel detected. Unknown vessel detected. Unknown vessel detected. Unknown vessel detected. Unknown vessel detected. Unknown vessel detected. Unknown vessel detected. Unknown vessel detected. Unknown vessel detected. Unknown vessel detected. Unknown vessel detected. Unknown vessel detected. Unknown vessel-"

The sensor operator reached out and muted his computer.

And then he sat back in his chair and swore.

 

[Faith]

Oooh, shiny list of shinier things to steal.
Most of them I've seen/played before, but still a few interesting things on there.

Anyway, without further ado, FiSF's Third Interlude - yet another military officer who does not get paid enough for this shit.

43 - Interlude: Tully
Admiral Tully moved down the crowded corridor with a determined stride. Soldiers and crewmen stopped and threw him salutes, other officers merely nodded and stepped aside to let him through.

They had the right idea. No one had any time to waste, and if the troops and crew had to keep stopping and saluting everyone with a star on their shoulder, they'd never be ready in time.

He didn't vocalise those thoughts, though. He didn't really have the time to waste, either.

The station rocked as another cruiser detached, blasting away with its side thrusters. Tully glanced through the window, catching a glimpse of the Valiant Flare as it moved away from the shipyards, turrets rising from their concealed panels and the glow of the engines growing brighter and brighter.

He made his way to the nearby bulkhead, swiping his dataslate across the scanner to gain access. The well-maintained blast door slid apart easily and he stepped through, moving into the station's central segment. He walked through another short corridor, passing more crewmen and a group of harried technicians carrying a number of computer terminals on hoversleds, deep in conversation. Finally he arrived at the station's main spire, the primary location to change levels.

Not willing to wait for one of the station's numerous lifts, he set off up the stairs, ascending two at a time. He moved up three floors, to Zero Deck, and stepped out onto the landing, one bereft of people unlike almost every other part of the station. Rounding a corner and passing through another sealed blast door, he arrived at the command centre.

Washington Station, named for the city above which it flew, was the largest of the Federation's defence platforms and shipyards, and the home of Federation Military Command. As a result, the Washington Control Centre was not only the control centre for the station, but the brain of the entire Federation Fleet.

As a result, the command centre was absolutely jam packed with operators and officers, manning stations, looking over maps, and tapping away maniacally at consoles.

His colleagues, the other Generals and Admirals of the Federation, waved him over to the centre of the room, where they stood as a group around the large holographic map of the galaxy that formed the centrepiece of the station's command centre.

Alongside the half-dozen other five-stars, two Engi garbed in battle armour and a dark green Zoltan with angry yellow eyes stood at the projector. The Engi stood perfectly still, as was customary for their kind, but the Zoltan shuffled from side to side, lightning arcing from his body and shooting sparks across the floor near his feet. He was nervous, then. Tully couldn't blame him.

"Gentlemen," he greeted as he approached.

"Admiral Tully," the other commanders responded in kind.

The Engi turned their heads, staring at him with their single eyes, and nodded. "We are all present. Let us begin."

The assorted military commanders nodded, and as one turned to the holomap.

It zoomed in, the view changing from a galaxy map to a map of the Sol System. Blue icons, holographic representations of the Federation Fleet, were clustered around Earth and the Moon, smaller groups spread throughout the system as far as Saturn and Mercury.

One of the elder Humans, Grand Admiral Corbwyn, stepped forward, gesturing at the map.

"There are approximately three thousand, five hundred Federation and allied vessels present, currently taking up a defensive formation around Earth and the Moon. Our scouts suggest the Rebel fleet will arrive from here, and likely engage in tactical FTL jumps from there in an attempt to flank the defensive line."

General Turzil took over quickly. "It is absolutely unacceptable to allow any Rebels to get near Earth. Thanks to our Engi allies, all our ships are now fully restocked and ready for combat, and combat they shall seek. However, we cannot forget that the enemy possess the numerical advantage. Every ship we have is going to be disregarding Hunter-Killer protocols for the duration of this battle - far more important we cripple four ships, rather than destroying three. Just shoot whatever's in front of the gun barrels, and we can work the rest out later."

Hunter-Killer, Tully recalled as his counterpart spoke. Pursue target and don't stop shooting until the kill is confirmed. We're trusting that sheer volume of firepower, pointed at the biggest concentration of enemies in sight, will be enough to drive them off.

"Our simulations suggest a sixty-two point four eight recurring percent chance of Federation victory, provided the Flagship is destroyed before the battle begins in earnest," one of the two Engi contributed.

"And if it isn't?" A younger female, Rear Admiral Sullene, asked.

The Engi turned to her, his red eye dulling to almost black. "Nineteen point one four eight seven recurring percent chance of Federation victory if the Flagship is not destroyed."

The Zoltan frowned. "You put a lot of faith in your Kestrel. Is that wise? They are weary and worn down from weeks on the run. Would it not be better to dispatch of the Flagship with one of your Dreadnoughts?"

"No, the Flagship is far too-"

"Sirs! Urgent call from Surveyor Three-Five! Unknown contacts, inbound from the galactic north!" a male voice called out from somewhere in the communications section.

"Unknown contacts? But our sensors can identify Rebel IFFs..." Sullene trailed off, leaving the unasked question hanging in the air. Tully took it as a good sign that she hadn't flipped into a murderous rage upon being referred to as sir, as she had last time she'd been present at such a meeting..

"Sirs! We've got visual on the contacts... they're... not Rebels, at least?" the same voice called out again.

"Show us!" Grand Admiral Corbwyn demanded, yelling out across the room and silencing every other muttered conversation in the process.

The holomap updated, and the 'north' sector of the Sol system was flooded with yellow icons, each labelled 'Unknown Vessel' followed by a string of numbers. The large majority were smaller vessels, indicated by the smaller icons, and were perhaps as large as a Federation Air Cruiser. The others, luckily less than a hundred, were larger, Frigate sized at least. Any further details were impossible for the station's long-range scanners to make out.

The Engi delegates were the first to speak. "Exactly two thousand vessels. Unknown vessels, no registered IFF. Unknown hull designs. Unfamiliar, does not match any known species' generic aesthetics. Construction capabilities far surpass that of a single group or organisation within existing known factions. Hypothesis: This is a first contact scenario with an alien species."

The entire control room, already quiet, became dead silent.

Tully rubbed his forehead. "We do not have time to deal with a potential first contact when the Rebels could be as little as twenty minutes away. Communications, prepare to send-"

Every screen in the station flickered before fading away to nothing but black. The holomap, and the half-dozen other projectors around the room, simply shut down, casting the assembled admirals and the rest of the command crew into darkness.

"Power cut?" Turzil inquired.

Tully shook his head and pointed up. "Air vents are still operational, and the lights are still on. This is not a power cut."

Suddenly each screen was decorated by a single green ring.

A voice emerged from every speaker at once, the rings on the screens pulsing in time with the voice.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I do believe my fellows and I would seriously appreciate not having a vast array of weapons pointed in our general direction. If you could, uh, cut that out, that'd be great. I mean, it's not exactly conductive to a friendly first contact."

Tully noticed the two Engi and the Zoltan conferring quietly.

"Do we really have time for a first contact discussion here and now?" Turzil asked the rest of the board.

Tully and Sullene shrugged. Nandus and Porlezki shared a glance and sighed. Corbwyn was the only one to speak. "First contact is the single most significant event that can occur between two races. It sets the tone for the continued development of the relationship between the two races. This is not only an excellent opportunity for us, but one we must entirely deny from the Rebels. Perhaps, if we act cautiously, and speak carefully, we can guide these newcomers into attacking the Rebels alongside us."

"As much as it goes against my rank, I must object, sir," Nandus said, speaking for the first time. "There is absolutely no reason to risk losing potentially beneficial relations with this species by attempting to manipulate them for our own goals. Additionally, I must confess I am somewhat worried about the size of their fleet - first contact is usually between smaller groups, not enormous fleets. They may have less than one hundred frigates, but they have almost two thousand air cruisers and that itself is nothing to belittle. I personally suspect that they did not come here for diplomacy."

The Zoltan, whose name Tully now recalled to be Kwin-Verrde, nodded at the Fleet Admiral's words. "This is a difficult situation. This race has already proven they can communicate through at the very least your Human Common, which suggests prolonged contact with at least members of your species. That they have bothered to communicate with us now indicates they are, at least, not opposed to diplomacy."

"Observation: If they were opposed to diplomacy," the two Engi said in eerie unison, "they would have not bothered learning to communicate in Human Common at all."

"More worryingly, them speaking English could indicate a connection to the Rebels. Why else would they arrive here, in force, just minutes before the Rebel fleet were supposed to arrive? Their opening move was to ask us to not point our weapons at them - why else but so they can catch us unaware? I suggest we open fire now - a devastating alpha strike while they're not expecting it should be sufficient to cripple their fleet, and make them easy to clean up before the Rebels arrive."

"Perhaps," Nandus interrupted, "they are simply made nervous by the idea of aliens pointing guns at them?"

"Oh, oh, yeah, that one. I pick that one. The one that doesn't involve getting shot or manipulated"

The sudden outburst of the voice emanating from the console surprised everyone.

"Oh, by the way. Totally overrode your systems and set your microphones from push-to-talk to automatic. Heard every word. Glad to see at least two of you have brains. Got to admit, I was kind of worried there, for a second. Now, I have some things I want to go over before... oh, son of a-"

"Sir!" A sensor operator called out at the same moment as the unknown voice cut out. "We've got Rebel scouts on the edge of the system! They're here!"

 

[Faith]

@Ovid, something random I just noticed - your signature links to the Voyager and the Wayfarer. I'm pretty sure that should be the Migrant and the Wayfarer, as the Migrant is the other destroyer-type listed in the post it links to, and the Voyager was the refugee ship, anyway, and entirely lacking in dakka.

Unless you mean to imply that you find throwing refugees out the airlock in the general direction of the enemy is good dakka in which case... you have problems.

Anyways, here, have a chapter.

44 - Arrival
You know what's fun? Using Teleporters to relocate stealthed Ion bombs right into the middle of enemy formations without anyone being any the wiser, and following it up with a rapid barrage of rapidly designed and fabricated Stealth Ion Missiles.

You know what's more fun? The knowledge that if I screw up here, thousands of people are going to die.

Okay, so the second one maybe isn't so fun.

Luckily for me, it looked like I wouldn't be needing them. The Federation's higher command group - or I guessed that's who they were, given that the signal I'd sent had bounced between ships before stopping at the big honking space station hovering over the USA. I mean, if that didn't scream 'I'm in charge', I don't know what did.

Either way, they seemed conductive to talking, and were currently chatting about whether or not they should be pointing their weapons at me.

Whilst they were busy doing that, I was busy carefully brushing aside their firewalls like so many little cobwebs and looting their databases for all they were worth. Which, compared to my currently available technology, was... not a lot. Well.

In terms of new technology, I got access to some nifty Mind Control tech - vastly better than the equivalent from the Sanctumverse. Although it had a shorter duration, something I could no doubt fix, it was much better at actively controlling the target, giving far more finesse and active access to the target's memories.

It also had a far better range - where the maximum range of the Sanctumverse Mind Control Tower was measured in metres, this thing measured range in hundreds of kilometres. Admittedly, it was also used primarily in space and I had no idea how things like atmosphere and notable gravity might effect its power, but even if it only worked in space there was still a huge number of uses for it.

There wasn't a lot else of note. A few new variants of lasers, missiles, bombs, and beams, although none particularly interesting. Most of the bombs and missiles were fairly obvious - bomb full of napalm, bomb full of healing nanites, bomb full of crystalline shrapnel, etcetera - and the lasers and beams, whatever specialised purposes they had, were still outperformed by my Progenitor hypertech.

With the possible exception of the Fire Beam, which caused the very air it passed through to ignite violently. That, I found pretty nifty. I mean, what's not to love about a laser beam that sets stuff on fire from hundreds or even thousands of kilometres away? Even if that was a range estimate allowing for no atmosphere or gravity, I had no doubt that dubious amounts of Commandery bullshit could make it a formidable planetside weapon.

Far more important and useful to me than the new technologies were new designs - I was nowhere near confident in my fabrication ability to design a new ship from scratch - the sum of my experience was welding new things onto old designs, pretty much, - and suddenly having access to Destroyer, Cruiser, and most importantly Dreadnought templates gave me a huge boost in my production capabilities.

Now I wasn't limited to a scout corvette and a cargo-carrier-turned-frigate, and that gave me options. Delicious, delicious options.

I reached out again for the little-used multi-thread function, spinning off another thought process to play with all my fancy new toys.

Of course, whilst I was busy rifling through the Federation's databanks, I was also listening in on the Admiralty Board's conversation. After all, ignoring who I believed to be the most powerful group of people in the system when they were on the cusp of all-out war seemed terribly poor form.

Speaking of, I returned my attention to their discussion just in time to catch this gem:
"-ning move was to ask us to not point our weapons at them - why else but so they can catch us unaware? I suggest we open fire now - a devastating alpha strike while they're not expecting it should be sufficient to cripple their fleet, and make them easy to clean up before the Rebels arrive."

Right. Because the two thousand strong fleet of unknown, unidentified warships that just turned up on your doorstep completely out of the blue would totally wait until you've recovered from shock and pointed your guns at them, only to ask you to lower your guns.

Instead of just, I don't know, opening fire straight away.

"Perhaps," another voice interrupted, "they are simply made nervous by the idea of aliens pointing guns at them?"

Ah. Someone intelligent. Or at least in possession of common sense. Good enough. I sent their communications network a ping, just to make sure it was all working, and then spoke again.

"Oh, oh, yeah, that one. I pick that one. The one that doesn't involve getting shot or manipulated"

The other end of the line went dead silent. For a moment I entertained the possibility that they'd hung up on me, but another quick ping confirmed otherwise.

Since none of them were talking, I decided to keep the tirade going myself.

"Oh, by the way. Totally overrode your systems and set your mics from push-to-talk to automatic. Heard every word. " Not technically true. I'd actually been listening in through their 'secure' camera network, but they didn't need to know that.

"Glad to see at least two of you have brains. Got to admit, I was kind of worried there, for a second." Make fools of Federation high command? Check. Launch not-so-subtle insults at Federation high command? Also check.

"Now, I have some things I want to go over before..."

Suddenly a little voice rang out in my non-existent robot ears, the chipper tone of the automated assistant. 'Warning - Enemy Ship Detected'.

"Oh, son of a-"

'Warning - Enemy Ship Detected.'

I quickly muted that subroutine before it drove me insane, and cast my detail scanners over the area of space my area scanners had detected the Rebel ships in.

Yup.

Yeah, that was their whole fleet.

Mentally sighing, I sent the Rebel fleet a ping. Hopefully they'd be smart enough to hold their fire for thirty seconds whilst they got over the 'random unknown fleet chilling out in orbit around Venus' thing. Actually, come to think of it, hopefully the Federation would be smart enough to do the same.

The Rebels responded to my ping with one of their own, and I performed an act of disproportionate retribution by tracing the ping, finding its origin, and unleashing my glorious progenitor bullshit hacking routines upon the Rebel Network. In under a second I was in, and I took advantage of that fact to access every device with a speaker and screen in the Rebel fleet. And then I did the same to the Federation, because I didn't want them to miss out.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I am glad to see the Rebels have finally joined us. Say hello, Rebels."

The voice that responded was gruff, grumpy, and pretty much sounded like a crazy old man.

"What? What's going on? Who is this? How did you get this network?"

"Eh. Good enough."

Cutting him off and silencing his microphones, I resumed speaking.

"Alright, so, introductions. Rebels, meet Feds. Feds, meet Rebels. My name is unimportant. I'm here to clean up your mess."

I paused, organising my thoughts. First priority, get them to stop shooting each other. Then... uh. Hm. I need to think on this.

"You guys are going to stop fighting, or I'm going to kick all your heads in and blow you all to smithereens. Now you wouldn't want that, and frankly, neither would I, so let's keep this civil, right?"

Okay, that should buy me some time.

"Why should we? You're clearly not part of the Rebellion, and we outnumber you two to one! All ships, ignore the new contacts, they won't dare interfere. Target the Federation fleet, close to weapons range and open fire!"

Or not.

The two fleets began to move, fighters and strike craft darting in for knife-fights whilst the destroyers and cruisers edged forward, slowly bringing their main weapons to bare.

Hundreds of brilliant crimson beams lanced across the inky black, the destroyers and dreadnoughts making quick work of the strike craft that had by bad luck or happenstance found their way into the overlapping wall of laser cannon firing arcs.

Just seconds later, a volley of similar size emerged from the Rebel fleet, cutting through the Federation's small ships just as easily.

In only the first barrage of each side, almost two hundred ships were destroyed. Admittedly, all of them were the smaller ships, which probably meant at most between one thousand and sixteen hundred deaths, assuming crews of five to eight for all of them. Given some ships likely has less crew, it was probably between eight hundred and twelve hundred, all up.

Which was still a lot of fucking people.

Dead.

Gone.

Lost in the stellar winds.

Beyond the point of no return.

It was at that point my mind caught up to what my sensors were observing, and I put my foot down. Hard.

Progenitor hacking routines blitzed the tactical networks of both fleets, giving me control of various systems on the majority of the ships. Targeting solutions were wiped from ship memory cores, weapons were powered down, FTL Drives switched off, and blast doors slammed shut, cutting off movement options and limiting options.

And then the second phase of my plan kicked in, and thousands of previously cloaked Ion warheads detonated, pulsing blue points of light bursting into life throughout the system before flickering and dying in just seconds, like adorable little baby stars.

Ships caught in the myriad blasts lost power rapidly, blue energies arcing across their hull plates and systems overloading. Engines flickered out and weapon glows faded to nothing as almost three and a half thousand of the roughly five thousand fighters were mission killed before the fight had even really begun.

As soon as the first warheads began to detonate, my Trackers opened fire with all weapons, a veritable wall of ionic blasts crossing the void between my fleet and the two enemy fleets - each shot carefully aimed to avoid critical life support systems. More missiles fired, these ones packing no cloaking device but larger engines and warheads, making them faster and giving them a greater blast radius and power.

More ships began to drift, dead in space, as waves of rapid-fire ion blasts washed over their shields and surged through interior systems. Of special concern were the dreadnoughts and the Federation stations - and my Migrants, hastily modified to fit FTL teleporters, began spewing out ion bombs, delivering them via space-phase fuckery to the internal systems as fast as the teleporters could activate.

In less than ten seconds, what would have been the site of a cataclysmic battle for the fate of human kind became a graveyard for ships, left adrift with no weapons, no engines and no drones. With nothing available but life support and basic communications, there was nothing the combined Rebel and Federation fleets could do. They were entirely at my mercy.

And right now, I was pissed.

 

[Faith]

I do apologise for the late chapter - meant to post this yesterday, got distracted.

@glitchrrr36 I am afraid I don't have any pictures on this PC, but I'll toss in a link to the video from the last level to give you a rough idea. Unfortunately this cutscene is the only time they appear in game (unlike the Pioneer which is at least a map prop) so it's a little spare on details.

Spoiler

The ship taking off is the corvette the Pioneer is based off, the two bigger ships that get smashed up by Titans are the basis for the Voyager.

45 - Retaliation
The first thing I did was split off about two dozen mental forks.
The second thing I did was speed up my processing time as much as possible, to the point where I could visibly see the movement of light between the sun and the Earth.

And then I raged.

I kicked, and screamed, and cried, and generally made a big mess of myself for about six hours, relative time. Times several dozen forks.

For the Rebels and the Feds, it was just a matter of seconds before I spoke, rather calm compared to how I had been feeling prior.

"Alright, fuckheads, listen up."

Seven thousand ships hung in space, immobile, undefended. But not blind. Not deaf. They knew exactly what was going on.

"You fucking bastards are a bunch of murderous scum, and only the fact that I refuse to stoop to your levels has allowed your continued survival. Two hundred ships were destroyed in the fifteen seconds it took me to stamp you under my heel. Next time, I will not allow so many lives to be thrown away. Your decimation will be swift and without mercy."

That statement was met only with silence. Whether of awe, guilt, terror, or something else, I didn't know. But as long as they were listening - and I knew they were, - then I didn't care. I had my Wayfarers split apart into two groups and move towards the warring fleets. As they drew closer, their beams fired, melting through hull armour and cleaving apart enemy ships, severing critical components such as weapons and engines from the bodies of the vessels.

The few drones that had already been dispatched - defence drones launched before the battle had begun, - now found themselves the targets of they Wayfarer's heavy lasers, obliterating each drone in a single shot.

"As of now, your stupid fucking war is over. If anyone, anyone, tries to start shit again, I will stamp them out. My fleet of two thousand just disabled two fleets totalling over three times the size. I have several thousand more ships, preparing for deployment within the next week. I will place my ships over every planet in the galaxy, if I have to. Your war is over and any attempt to revive it will end much the same as this battle did. With me stomping all over you."

I heard over the communications some gulps and nervous whispers, but whoever was transmitting, accidentally or not, seemed content to let me speak for now. Possibly had something to do with the fleet of frigate-analogues flying around disarming and crippling every ship in sight.

"So, now that we've made clear exactly what I am capable of, let us return to what was our original topic of conversation before the good Rebels decided to attempt to upstage me. Namely, the reasons for your dumb fucking war."

I paused again, ordering my thoughts. Okay. Step one. Identify the problems.

"Rebels. You don't like that the Federation has a terrible social structure which outright encourages slavery and abuse. This is fair."

There was some mumbling of agreement from Rebel channels, and some cries of indignation from the Federation, at that comment. I had my Trackers fire off a few more Ion missiles, detonating them harmlessly in the space between the two fleets. A sort of... warning shot, almost. The chatter ended almost immediately.

"Feds. You don't like that the Rebels oppose your political system of choice. Now I'm not going to pretend that your system is good - it's not, it's a pile of shit and you should all feel bad, but for the purposes of this argument it's a fair point."

My assessment was met with more cries of indignation from the Federation. Through no intervention of my own, that was suddenly silenced as one of the Federation Admirals, the brash one who'd claimed me a Rebel agent, snapped loudly across the network.

"Listen here, you-"

I muted his microphone and kept talking, unperturbed.

"Both of you have reason to disagree with each other. Your political and cultural views clash in a nearly irreconcilable way. This is fine."

Clearly sensing that I was leading up to something, the minor chatter on both sides died out, fading away to nothing.

Which was nice, because I really liked the silence. It gave me a chance to think. Subjective hours to think, really, thanks to Hypertech computational overclock shenanigans and multi-core threading out the wazoo.

"What is not fine, is that both sides decided that the simplest, easiest solution to their non-existent problem was to vaporise it. And thus through idiocy the greatest war of the last ten generations was sparked," I continued after a few real-time seconds, still thinking.

Step two. Having identified the problem, figure out roughly how to fix it.

Well.

I couldn't just let the two factions be - they'd get back to fighting within minutes of me leaving. Neither faction was really in the right, meaning it wasn't as clear cut as Sanctum's 'destroy group A, save group B' solution. I couldn't stay here and oversee peace unless I wanted to be rooted in place for decades at a minimum, and I really, really didn't want to create a new AI to manage the place. There was no amount of shiny in the universe that would convince me that raising a super advanced war machine AI baby would be a good idea.

The factions were the key cause of conflict, and as such, they needed to go. Getting rid of the Federation would be easy. Getting rid of its influence, probably a lot harder. Keeping the Rebels satisfied, harder still.

But the biggest problem with removing the factions was their replacement. Namely, there was no perfect third party to push to prominence and rule the galaxy in a safe, sane, and benevolent way. Or, if there was, I hadn't met them.

I let out a digital sigh. Replacement it was. But replacement with what? For all that democracy was a great system, it was very prone to human error, and there was no easy way for me to deal with that. Communism suffered much the same problems, plus a host of others and major social stigma - or at least, it had back in 2015. Whether the same applied now, I was unsure, but I was never really keen on it anyway - except in some rare circumstances. Like Endless Space, where a perfect communist government was possible with enough happiness-increasing tech.

But no. That would rely on having a non-biased manager to oversee the system, and I didn't want to root myself here - nor was I so naive or presumptuous to claim I was completely without bias. That option would be even worse than having to raise an AI - at least doing that I'd eventually be able to leave. Democracy it is.

"Here is the new solution. I am going to dissolve the human portion of the Galactic Federation. This is non-negotiable. Once that incredibly retarded form of central government of gone, I will be creating, and overseeing, a democracy. A proper one. And all of you are going to shut up and enjoy it or I will stomp you."

The brazen Federation Admiral must have found another microphone to use, because his voice assailed my ears again. "We have a democracy! Those Rebel scum-"

Mute.

"No. You have a ridiculous hierarchy of nobles the likes of which haven't been seen since the medieval ages, and those select few utilize a democratic system to rule over billions of people who otherwise have no say. That's not democracy, it's borderline tyranny, and the Rebels are entirely right for contesting it."

"Thank you!" An exasperated voice called out over the communicator. I muted him too, just on principal. No one was allowed to interrupt my speech.

After a second of mentally cursing the interruption, I continued. "Of course, they're still massively in the wrong for contesting it through violence, but the point stands. Okay. Right. Under my system, every human planet will have a democratic government, with members elected by the populace of that planet. Every human solar system will have a democratic government, with members elected by the planetary governments. Every human sector will have a democratic government, with members elected by the system governments. And those sector governments will elect representatives for the Human government."

Seemed logical enough. It'd be a right pain in the ass to set up, though. I'd probably need... more than a few Avatar droids and such.

"This way, every level of human society gets a chance to determine what laws or restrictions they do or do not want in place. Further, at any level, a rule may be overturned by majority vote for that sector, system, or planet - if everyone in the solar system wants to pass a tax except one planet, then no taxes for that planet. That's how democracy rolls. Kay?"

I couldn't help but feel I'm thinking too long term here. Perhaps I should've dealt with the two huge fleets of warships first. I mean, sure, I disarmed them and stopped them from going anywhere, but still.

"Alright, stranger, listen here," the Rebel leader said loudly, cutting through the silence. I hesitated for just a second, curious as to what he had to say. "I don't know who you are, and I don't know where you come from, but I do know that you have made one very big mistake."

Now that was just insulting.

"Oh, really? I effortlessly trounced both of your fleets. Even if I did make a mistake, which I quite possibly did, you're in no condition to capitalise on it."

"You may have disabled our external systems, but our internals work fine. And that includes our communications and our Artificial Intelligence cores. Once our new AI is done hijacking your fleet, we're going to destroy the Federation and humanity will be free of their tyranny! Forever! So thank you, stranger, for the reinforcements. Long Live the-"

Almost absent-mindedly, I muted him too. I was too busy pondering over what he'd already said to care about what else he had to say.

Artificial Intelligence? I didn't remember there being any artificial intelligences in the Rebel Fleet. In fact, I hadn't seen any artificial intelligences at all, except for...

Wait.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

 

[Faith]

RE: this entire debate about the intelligence of a 15 metre BESRMoW going into politics, you have to remember that Chapter 45 is not an accurate representation of the entire plan - Faith is interrupted by the Rebel leader, and then gets somewhat distracted by the reactivation of the Flagship AI.

Speaking of which, have a chapter, in which Faith does not know the meaning of proportionate retribution:

46 - Flagship
Oh. Shit.

I forgot about station LDC-952.

And the pain-in-the-ass AI who'd lived there.

I'd even read the documents. I remembered reading that it was supposed to be installed on the Flagship, should they find the time. Apparently they had, and now it was going to try and hack me again, like it had before. That had been an excruciatingly painful experience. And not one I was eager to repeat.

Of course, whilst reading the documents, I'd also found out how the AI hacked me - how it hacked everyone, really, - and thus now knew a very simple trick to completely nullifying his near-Progenitor levels of cyberwarfare bullshit.

Speaking of, I was still rather curious as to how a group of isolated Zoltan on a communications relay lightyears from anything of worth made an AI capable of rivaling the Progenitors. And by curious, I mean terrified.

Nevertheless, I knew how it would attack me, now. Which meant I could do something about it. Prevention is the best cure, and all that.

The LDC-952 AI operated by sending a shard of itself as a virus through communications networks. The designers had apparently intended to make it disguise this virus as a distress signal or welcoming message, but the prototype detailed in the reports I'd stolen lacked this functionality.

When the virus was received by the target, it would rapidly spread, overriding the security of the communications system and forcing open the path for more viruses to enter. The virus shards would then engage in brute-force hacking, relying on the virus' ability to self-replicate and the transmission of more virus shards from the AI's core to overwhelm enemy cyberwarfare systems.

The digital equivalent of a zerg rush.

So how did I beat it?

With a single mental command, all two thousand of my vessels disabled their external communications systems, leaving them effectively deaf to the incoming virus-ridden hails of the Flagship.

There we go. Problem solved.

Temporarily, at least.
Now, as Newton says, every action has an equal and opposite reaction.

Except in this case, it's 'for every action, there is an unequal opposing overreaction'.

A little show of force - something that would certainly dissuade people from trying to oppose my benevolent rule.

I ordered one of my two Migrants to stop building ion bombs and construct another Pioneer craft, with all the nice fancy bunk rooms replaced with cells. Whilst that was cooking, I sent two of my Trackers to make their way through the disabled Rebel fleet, making their way to the Flagship itself.

So, more fun facts? FTL Teleporter pads were limited only by the range of the sensors they were attached to and the power supply of the craft. Since I had networked sensors and vastly more power than any small fleet available, range was almost a nonexistent issue. Which made it very easy for me to poach the crew of the Rebel flagship as soon as the Pioneer's systems came online, thanks to sensor guidance from my two Trackers.

The crew members were whisked away from their stations in a series of blue flashes, reappearing on the teleporter pads aboard my newest Pioneer. Teleporter pads located inside the cells, of course. I hardly expected them to enter of their own volition.

The FTL teleporters were curious things, let me tell you. They utilized the same space-phase fuckery as the FTL drive and the cloaking device did, but instead of generating a single bubble they made two, and then, by means of… something, swapped the locations of the bubbles in realspace. Whatever was on the pads was teleported to the target, and the target (empty air) was brought back to the pads.

Nanobots were used to ensure that things that came through the phase shift returned in one piece, as there were apparently issues with molecular bonds decaying due to the technique used to swap the phase bubbles. Or… something like that, anyway. This allowed, with a few modifications, for teleporters that were able to perform minor healing activities on things being teleported, making it a very useful tool for medical ships.

The exact method of teleportation meant that in theory, it would be possible to portal cut, replacing solid materials from empty air gathered from somewhere else, but that'd never come up in game. Something else to look into.

Whilst I was musing, I had my two Pilgrim construction corvettes follow the wake of the two Trackers, their fabricators quickly whipping up a few basic drones. Nothing more than a magnetic clamp, a few engines, and the requisite systems to run them. These Booster Drones, which could generally serve as, well, boosters, complementing a ship's existing engines, were also theoretically capable of moving a ship alone.

A dozen of the automated engine pods clamped onto the now empty Rebel Flagship, and whilst they warmed up, my Pilgrims swept the Flagship with nanobots, stealing the designs for its heavy laser, burst ion cannon, burst laser cannon, and the triple missile launcher, as well as its stock of drones, advanced Phase Cloak system, and, most intriguingly, a strange sort of Zoltan Shield that appeared to charge itself through use of a small, segregated Phase FTL drive engaging in micro-jumps in a contained environment within the ship's inner hull.

It seemed incredibly dangerous, having a small object jumping in and out of Phase inside your moving flagship/mobile command centre, but there it was, being used as an incredibly energy-inefficient way of recharging Zoltan shields. No wonder the Flagship only used it during Energy Surges.

I stole the designs for that, and moved on. I'd find a use for it somewhere, probably.

The Flagship didn't have much else of note that I didn't already possess. Besides, of course, the AI cores, but last time I'd interacted with the Flagship's AI it had taken over one of my Riders and tried to kill me, so I wasn't particularly interested in giving it access to my nanobots. Infact, I had my nanobots completely sever the AI core from the ship's power supply, and then devour the communications system for good measure - just in case the AI core had some sort of internal battery, a possibility I couldn't rule out.

My looting of the ship done, I engaged the Booster Drones. They began swivelling on their clamp joints and firing in sequence, pushing the ship into a very gentle roll.

Once it was lined up with the target, the Booster Drones fired their thrusters again, cancelling the maneuver with short bursts of blue fire. Then their main engines fired, and the ship was dragged away, slowly at first and gently picking up speed.

The Wayfarers now formed up, gathering again in one huge group and watching as the Rebel Flagship was sent hurtling towards the big grey rock known to humans simply as the moon.

Fun fact about the FTL-verse's moon? It got nuked to hell and back during one of the first interstellar wars between humans. Even though that happened years and years ago, it wouldn't be habitable again for... well, a long time. The current population was six, and all of them were at a science outpost near one of the poles, an area largely untouched by the war.

The Flagship was not going down anywhere near there, thankfully. Instead, as it tore through the moon's thin atmosphere, Booster Drone thrusters pulsing like little strobe lights - or giant stobe lights, I suppose, considering the relative scales, - it was pointed towards the sea of showers - Mare Imbrium, to be accurate. A little patch of nowhere that no one really cared about.

Flames licked at the Flagship, its orange hull glowing cherry red as it began to enter the moon's atmosphere. The Booster Drones disengaged, electromagnets shutting down and allowing the automated thruster units to be ripped from the Flagship, tumbling through the air gracelessly.

Not much of an issue, as they were just booster modules. They didn't need to be pretty. I sent the signal for them to self-destruct - their purpose had been served, and so I had no need for them now. As they disassembled, scattered, and exploded, I watched with some muted glee as the Rebel Flagship, bearing the AI that had been such a pain in the ass once before, crashed into the surface, metal fragments and dust flying everywhere. Debris was scattered across a huge radius as the ship's reactor exploded, tossing components and metal plates all over.

Hah. Ortillery. As destructive to the shell as it is to the target.

And since the flagship's remains were firmly within a chunk of moon no one cared about, well, I was free to use it as target practice, as long as I didn't aim too far north.

I wanted to be sure, okay? I've seen enough movies to know that watching someone fall from great height and then saying, thinking, or implying 'no one could survive that' is just begging for trouble, usually in the form of the supposedly dead person or artificial lifeform returning at the worst possible moment.

And so, in the name of my personal feelings of security, my seventy five Wayfarers, now gathered in a loose V-formation, began to fire. The ones towards the edges of the V fired forward and inward, each ship firing four dull orange beams at the next. As each ship caught the beam and passed it through their own, the beam grew even brighter. The ship at the forefront of the formation was catching laser blasts a brilliant white, and about as wide as a small bus. The amount of energy contained within was... well. Lots.

Remember when I said that pointing twenty Wayfarers at a planet was the kind of thing you'd only do if it was covered in Zerg?

Well....

Yeah.

The foremost ship's four cannons fired, straight down at the heavily irradiated moon below.

Four piercing lances of light shot from the destroyer, slamming into the shattered remains of the Flagship and cleaving through it, digging deep into the dusty surface with minimal fanfare.

That is, until the suddenly-superheated gasses in the moon's incredibly thin atmosphere realised they had been superheated, and an enormous but short lived pillar of flame rose from the ground, casting everything in a vivid orange glow for the briefest of moments. The four ball-mounted lasers began to swivel, carving lines into the moon. Long, straight lines were etched, emanating from the central point at angles - three lines heading south, and one more heading north. Each of the lines was about seventy or so kilometres long, sure, but they were lines nonetheless. From the end of the line, the lasers began to swivel more, creating long, sweeping arches between each point - forming an icon within a circle.

And thus I completed the first recorded act of lunar graffiti in this universe. By carving a peace symbol onto the sea of showers. With a crashed spaceship and a set of high power laser cannons.

In a way it was terrifying. I mean, it's one thing to see a simulation of a 75-ship-strong chain laser carve up a planet. It's another thing to see that actually happen, in real life. A very scary thing.

The peace symbol, big enough to be seen from space and glowing white-hot from the sheer heat, shone like a beacon on the dark surface of the moon.

I think it probably got the point across.

Now, where was I?



Also, I'll be going on a roadtrip this week so I have no guarantee that there will be a new chapter on Wednesday. You have been warned.

 

[Faith]

Yes it does, it just has to be properly applied and aimed.

Click to shrink...

I've said it before, and I'll say it again.

There is no problem that cannot be solved with appropriately applied explosives*.

*actually applies to all forms of Dakka. Also, Duct Tape.

Also, have a chapter. In which Faith gets distracted. Again.

---

47 - Wrap-Up
The Flagship dealt with, I was free to turn my attention back to the bigger problem.

Namely, I had a little over seven thousand ships ranging from ten to a thousand metres in length, all lacking weapons or engines, simply drifting in space.

Of the seven thousand ships, half sat firmly on each side of the Rebel-Federation war, wanting nothing more than to stamp out and destroy their enemies once and for all.

And I was now holding them at gunpoint whilst ordering them to turn to peace.

Dealing with this would be… complicated.

First, I'd need to get rid of these fleets. Then I'd need to worry about setting up the democracy - and that was going to be a right pain. It would mean a lot of Avatar droids pointing guns at a lot of people and forcing them to comply.

Right, fleets.

Shipping the two sides to their 'homeworlds' seemed like a prudent solution, with the one problem being that I had no idea where the Rebel 'homeworld' - more realistically, their main base of operations, - was, or if they had one.

For all I knew, they were an entirely fleet-based faction.

Speaking of which, I had two entire fleets here, dead to rights. I set my Pilgrims to start assimilating the individual ships, starting with the Dreadnoughts - whilst I had control of their critical systems, that didn't give me the blueprints for everything they had on board - especially in the case of the Rebels, whose ships were heavily modified from the norm.

It also didn't allow me to access the isolated components, terminals and the like that were cut off from the network, and it was entirely possible that the Rebel's higher ups had such devices - I would have, in their positions.

I'd have filled them with all sorts of potential blackmail data and other important goodies, should I ever need to jump ship and support my enemies. Of course, given the standard Federation response to Rebels was to execute them on sight, it wouldn't have worked in this case, but still.

Given that none of the remaining ships had attached engines, that was something I'd need to fix. In hindsight, it probably would have been better to just destroy the weapons, but I lacked the time travel technology to go back and fix that mistake, so… oh well?

An order of forty thousand or so Booster Drones from my Migrants, both the two present and the fif-no, eighteen present at my asteroid base, solved that problem neatly.

Well, for the Federation ships, anyway. The Rebel ships would be… harder. Unless I set up an FTL Gate, which was a valid enough option, or would be as soon as I found out where to put the other one.

A quick search through the wealth of knowledge that I had stolen from the Rebel ships told me that the majority of their forces were drawn from the border worlds, at the edges of Human space, and that their 'main' base, or at the least their main shipyard, was to be located on a border world named Erran.

It was large, Earth-like, and easily capable of supporting tens of thousands of people, with a little work. And, for the Rebels from offworld, they would be able to hitch a ride on any number of civilian transports. I just needed to set up somewhere for them to wait - not a difficult prospect. I already had designs for what was functionally a hotel in the Voyager transports, so with some modification and expansion, I could easily set something up.

After a little more database digging to find out where Erran actually was, I sent a pair of Pilgrims from my asteroid base to construct an FTL Gate in orbit whilst the rest of my large ships, mainly Migrants, made their way to Earth.

The eighteen Migrants arrived from FTL, depositing a swarm of eighty or so Booster Drones, emptying their fabrication bays, before resuming construction. The automated engine pods moved off towards the various small craft of the Federation fleet, clamping on and dragging them towards Earth carefully. The six Pilgrims I now had over Earth began construction of another FTL Gate, to link up with the one above Erran.

I set up a long queue of orders, for all of my vessels, effectively automating the entire process of capturing and dragging away ships to the relevant homeworlds.

And all of that took just twenty seconds. Just as planned.

With a mental grin, I continued my little speech.

"Alright, sorry to keep you waiting. Just had to deal with that little pest there."

I was pretty sure everyone knew what I was referring to. I'd made quite the show of annihilating that Flagship, after all.

"So, any other incredibly flimsy last ditch attempts at destroying the unknown fleet that just stomped your entire combined fleets into dust?"

Silence. Mainly, I suspected, because I'd muted every microphone on the network besides mine.

"No? Good. Where was I? Right. Democracy, how it rolls. So, you may be thinking that the system I suggested is stupid. That it would just descend into every planet, every system, trying to be the most appealing to corporations, the most appealing to other people, and generally the most appealing system for everything. Because that way, they'll attract all the tourists, all the business, and all the money."

"Now, if you'd bothered to shut up and listen instead of interrupting every five seconds, you might have heard my solution to that problem. Seeing as how I have a lick of common sense, I'm not dumb enough to give every planetary body that kind of capability. That's the kind of stupid that results in crashing economies, societal collapse, and other such bad things."

"No, when your newly elected governments vote on things, there will be oversight. For minor laws, unimportant things, it will be all up to the elected leaders. But if they want to charge everyone on the planet tax rates of ninety percent and make it illegal to try and leave, well, then I'll step in. Unless they have a really compelling reason."

"Now, you have to understand that I am under no compulsion to tell you this, and I'm pretty sure very few of you here will end up needing to know the fine details, so I'll save them for later. For now, you guys are all going to sit tight on your planets and think about what you've done. I hear word of any more conflict, and… well, you all saw what I did to your precious moon."

The reasons for this were twofold. One, as I'd said, was that I was pretty sure it would be a waste of breath… well, not really, because giant robot, but you get the idea.

The second is because I was rather lacking those finer details. I had… a few ideas on how to deal with the problem, long term, but most of them I was largely against. Theoretically, I could create another AI Core, and copy myself onto it. Of course, that fork would enjoy running this madhouse as much as I would… which is to say, they wouldn't.

And I wasn't sure if the copy would work perfectly, or even at all, either - their must have been a reason that the Progenitors preferred creating new AI over copying their existing, more experienced, Commanders, right? And the last thing I needed was an evil commander clone of myself.

Knowing my luck, they'd actually be semi-competent at PA, too.

No, my main idea was to get out of the problem by throwing it at someone else. The Zoltan and the Engi came to mind - the Zoltan were supposedly famed diplomats, and the Engi were, technically, strictly neutral in the war.

It didn't stop them helping the Federation subtly with supplies, repairs, and new ships such as the Stealth Cruiser, but they were still technically neutral.

Of course, throwing the problem at someone else seemed a mite irresponsible - although how I planned to make it up to them, I wasn't sure. Giving them a few pieces of technology, maybe? The Engi back at Merridew had been pretty excited about the various upgrades I'd provided.

The Cores had been of special interest to him, I recalled. Something about its' ability to be calibrated to generate any kind of gas as desired.

It was also an entirely self-sustaining power source, so that was cool.

I figured between that and a few other trinkets - general upgrades to sensors, engines, power sources, that sort of thing, - I could convince the Engi or the Zoltan into taking over.

Also, I was certain they'd be happy that the humans had stopped squabbling, even if it was because an even greater threat had appeared out of nowhere and entirely disabled both fleets with not even so much as a casual wave before picking up and moving the ships at will, like some sort of Dungeon Keeper player looking after their minions.

Heh.

--

As I had guessed, the planet of Erran was not equipped to deal with a huge influx of Rebel soldiers. Not an issue, though. The two Pilgrims responsible for building the FTL Gate there moved down to the surface as soon as they were done, where they immediately began construction of a Vehicle Factory.

No particular reason for choosing Vehicle over the others - I just hadn't had a decent chance to use it yet.

The location the Pilgrims set down in was a fairly open area, low rolling hills and vast grasslands. The buildings would slightly ruin the scenery, but at least the Rebels would have a nice view.

The first Vehicle Fabricator rolled off the factory pad, a small (by Progenitor standards, meaning a good eight or so metres long) tank armed only with Fabricator sprayers. It quickly moved to start digging away at the hill with its nanobots, freeing up the room to begin the construction. The Pilgrims joined it, and several hundred metres of hill were slowly stripped away by the growing number of Fabricators.

Once the land around was relatively flat, they would stop destroying things and start building the buildings I was in the process of designing.

The Habitation Block, as I had decided to name it, was pretty much ripped directly from the Voyager's passenger bay, with a few minor changes, both functionally and aesthetically. The Life Support (that is, the Elysion Core) was moved from its room on the fourth floor to a newly implemented basement level, along with the Teleporter, which freed up the main rooms of both the fourth and third floors.

The third became another mess hall, as the second was, and the fourth was turned into a larger recreation room, with a number of computer terminals and TVs lining the walls and a series of desks in the middle of the room. Of course, I'd need to actually set up the computers and such with local information systems, but that wouldn't be too hard.

On the outside, the once blocky structure became smoother, sharp edges replaced with round. The angular protrusions on the side - what once had been the structural supports holding the cargo bay to the ship, - were also smoothed over, becoming roughly cylindrical towers that served more for looks than to hold up the building.

After a couple dozen checks to make sure everything was in order, I remembered to add a front door.

And with that done, the Habitation Blocks were ready. I just needed to build them.

And then fill them with Rebels.

And then look after the Rebels.

Whilst dealing with the Federation at the same time.

And anyone else who tried to stick their noses in.

And I had to manage the Starsong, which was off expanding my little space empire.

Oh well. One problem at a time.

 

[Faith]

In which a Commander procrastinates her way to victory.

48 - Settlements
Moving the Rebels into their new temporary home turned out to be much easier than I expected. Once their crippled ships were dropped in the courtyard and carefully torn apart for Metal, they had pretty much no choice but to examine one of the nearby buildings.

Since said nearby buildings had air conditioning, and the outside temperature was enough to make me, an Australian, cringe, most Rebels made the smart choice to stay inside.

The fact that I had armed robots at each door probably also helped them arrive at this decision.

The real problems didn't begin until I got to the larger ships - there wasn't exactly a lot of room to safely put the things down. I settled for another bout of teleport-poaching, instead, simply Phase Teleporting them from their ships in orbit to the courtyard on the planet below. The ships remained in orbit - instant derelicts.

Man, point-to-anywhere teleportation is awesome. Especially when it doesn't have to be voluntary!

It did lead to a few disoriented crew members throwing up on the pads, but a quick application of nanomachines always served to clean those messes up.

Once I got into a rhythm of sorting that out, I spun up a second stream of consciousness, using that to take over the busywork whilst my 'primary' stream went on to do other stuff.

Solving problems one at a time is for people who can't effectively complete multiple tasks at once through simultaneous instancing. Heh, suckers.

Not that I'm particularly good at using that ability myself, though. I keep forgetting I have it, which is rather annoying at times.

Normally because I remember immediately after it would have stopped being useful. Not this time, though!

---

I returned my attention to Earth - the Federation were doing a fairly good job of relocating their military back down to the surface, so I didn't feel the need to butt in there. At this point, it was simply a matter of letting the Rebels and the Federation cool down whilst I sorted everything out - and by that, I mean 'whilst I threw all my problems at the Zoltan and ran away quickly'.

Yeah, yeah. Sue me.

The moon was still glowing, to my surprise, although not as much as it had been an hour prior. I took a moment to admire the view for posterity's sake before moving on.

---

The Starsong, meanwhile, had finally arrived at its destination. Another asteroid field - it worked the first time, after all, - but one admittedly much closer to civilisation.

Within range of an FTL Jump Beacon, even, which was… well, it wasn't bad. Especially since I had no real concerns about keeping this base hidden or anything like that. It was, after all, going to serve as the Faith Foundation's 'face'.

The Starsong located the largest asteroid again and began to idle as the five Pilgrims moved in, Fabricators ready to engage.

Streams of green nanobots shot across the void, tearing up part of the asteroid, flattening a huge chunk of its surface. Once about six hundred metres of space was cleared, construction began.

Airfield formed across the rock's surface under the glow of the Pilgrim's Fabricators. With the combined construction capabilities of seven hundred and fifty lone Fabricators, the building was finished in a little under three seconds, and the Pilgrims moved off to begin construction of a second Airfield next to it.

As they moved into position, I queued up the next few builds - more Habitation Blocks, linked together by airtight tunnels. Utterly useless to me, but useful as part of the masquerade.

Of course, a base consisting entirely of living quarters would have raised questions, so I ended up making a few variants of the Habitation Block, using furniture and equipment ripped straight from the archives of both the Bright Foundation and the Galactic Federation - altered to match the 'smooth curves' aesthetic I was playing up, of course.

These Engineering Blocks and Research Blocks joined the queue, along with two large, retractable covers over the Airfields - they were supposed to be landing pads of a sort for the ships, and thus needed a contained environment, so that passengers and crew could go from ship to station without needing EVA suits.

Well, my passengers and crew didn't, on account of being cyborgs with only the barest of organic matter to simulate real skin, but real humans would have needed an atmosphere, and since that's what I was pretending to be, they needed to be there. They made the whole base more believable.

Hopefully. Heh.

Once all those constructions were queued up, I started flicking through the various viewpoints of my thousands of ships and other units.

Unloading on Erran was going fine - the only remaining Rebel ships were their larger vessels, the Cruisers and Dreadnoughts. Another couple of hours and they'd be all sorted.

Unloading on Earth was almost done - the Federation had infrastructure that I hadn't bothered wasting time with, significantly speeding up the process. They should be all home - or at least, all on the surface, - within the hour.

Once everyone was down, then… well, then I would have to figure out step two, I guess. Figuring out how to approach the Engi and the Zoltan and get them to take over. Planning that would be… interesting.

Obviously, the best course of action was to further put this off, which is exactly what I did, pushing the matter to the back of my mind.

I had my Riders emerge again from my initial asteroid base, spreading out between there, Erran, Earth, and my new asteroid base, using the scout ships in place of dedicated sensor platforms because I was too lazy to design such things and the Riders were already just sitting around, doing nothing.

Sue me, damnit.

Nothing out of the ordinary was happening on Earth - the Federation had put up a no-fly zone around the planet in preparation for the Rebel attack, and apparently the populace were too scared to try and defy it even though their fleet had been disarmed.

Probably because the fleet responsible for the disarming was still chilling out in orbit, but I digress. The moon being slightly glowing still probably didn't help.

The space around Erran was far more interesting, honestly. Civilian vessels were still buzzing around in orbit, flying too and fro. Most were going out of the way to give the FTL Gate and the Rebel Fleet a wide berth, but some of the braver ones had begun to approach - apparently they'd started to realise the Rebel Fleet had been totally crippled and largely abandoned.

After a moment's consideration, I decided that looters weren't much of a problem - I'd already vaporised the fleet's weapons and engines, so the ships were pretty much exclusively useful for scrap.

Admittedly, there was a lot of scrap, in terms of hull armour, structural components, internal systems, and computers, but I couldn't think of many uses for a huge fleet of legless, toothless derelicts besides raw resources.

Just to be sure, I hacked into and purged the databanks of every single one of them, removing every scrap of useable data - after copying it for myself, that is.

I didn't want any well-equipped pirate groups getting their hands on the Flagship's blueprints, for example. Nor the location of the station where that damnable AI came from.

Speaking of which, I needed to go deal with that. Preferably with fire. Lots of fire.

---

Station LDC-952 was located in an area of dark space between two semi-close solar systems, on the border of what was considered Zoltan and Federation territory. Entirely isolated, serving only as a secure relay for highly-confidential military transmissions.

If by 'secure', you meant 'willing to jump ship and join the winning team at the drop of a hat'.

It had two craft for defensive purposes - a Zoltan Energy Fighter and a Zoltan Energy Bomber. Presumably the limited presence was to preserve the masquerade, not to actually defend the place, because it was an utterly insignificant force considering what it was supposed to be defending.

It was the birthplace, so to speak, of the Rebel Flagship's AI - or at least, it was the location in which a large part of the AI was programmed - the hacking and cyberwarfare routines.

That AI was a bastard. Its home was going to burn.

Two Pioneer craft, set up to carry 'prisoners', and four Riders, their Twin Plasma Turrets replaced with Fire Beams, dropped out of FTL a hundred thousand kilometres or so from the station, their weapons immediately charging up.

The crew of the two Zoltan strike craft and the station found themselves suddenly warped across space, locked inside the cells of the Pioneers. Volleys of missiles, courtesy of all six ships, raced across the inky black, lighting the darkness of space with a series of brilliant explosions that blasted the Zoltan ships to dust.

One last missile made its way to the station itself, detonating with a high-power ion strike that totally overloaded the facility's shield generator.

Seconds later, eight beams of brilliant ruby light shot across the void, striking the Zoltan station and passing through the hull plates as if they weren't there.

I quickly hacked the station's systems, copying and then deleting everything on the database - including huge amounts of classified communications, decades worth of AI research, and more blackmail material then I could shake a stick at.

And then, peering through the station's internal cameras, I watched as huge fires engulfed the interior. Automated routines attempted to activate extinguishers and open airlocks, apparently sensing the lack of life forms to put at risk with such actions, but I quickly shut them down.

The fire began to spread, growing and merging from eight small clusters spread throughout the research wing to a blazing inferno, rapidly expanding across the station. Smoke filled the hallways and clouded the view of the cameras.

Unfortunately, besides totally ruining their carpet, the fire didn't seem to be doing much.

Naturally, I solved this problem by adding more fire.

Another volley of Fire Beams really helped heat thi- nope, can't do it. That pun is officially too bad, even for me.

Anyway, with the help of a second huge conflagration lit in the dormitory wing, the temperature in the station began to soar even further - well beyond the limits of the station's air conditioning to control.

Wall panels began to melt, sensitive equipment and computers fizzled and shut down, and even the camera lenses began to warp, obscuring my vision even further.

Heheh. Jet fuel may not be able to melt steel beams, but high intensity infrared laser beams can!

One by one, the camera feeds winked out as their delicate internals were melted into vaguely metallic goop, and I had to satisfy myself by watching from the outside as the station continued to burn.

I mean, obviously the fire wouldn't completely destroy it - the oxygen would dissipate well before the fire got that out of hand, - but it would do a number on the internals.

Once the place ran out of oxygen, I could just teleport a nuke on board and blow it up Covenant style, but until then, I was quite content to just watch the place burn.

---

I was dragged from my exercise in catharsis by a very unexpected sensory input.

Input from the NeoAvatars designated Ajax and Abigail - the pilot and captain of the Starsong. Input they could only have received if there was someone else in the Starsong's bridge.

"Captain Drake. Would you like to explain?"

Aww, fudge.

 

[Faith]

It's closer to midnight than 11:30 but it's still, technically, Sunday the 17th.

It totally counts, I swear.

Anyway, this chapter is me trying something a little different. I'm relatively happy with how it came out, myself, but... *shrug*

Might not be for everyone.

--

49 - Interlude: Unit

"Understood. You wish to leave the station, now?"

The Human, designated Abigail Drake, Captain, rapidly dipped her head and returned it to an upright position.

The Human gesture for 'affirmative'.

"Very well. Best of luck in your endeavours." Unit's atmospheric vibration unit emitted.

Unit watched them as they made their way out of the room, stepping carefully and maneuvering through gaps in the crowd as they formed, every motion framed by the movement of the people around them.

Observation - avoiding contact where possible. Extrapolation - prefers to avoid social contact in all circumstances? Counterpoint - chose to land at Merridew and engage in social connections. Alternate Extrapolation - no longer wants to be present at this venue. Is preparing to leave.

Further investigation required.

Unit lost sight of the Human as they exited through a doorway on the far side of the room, and after a couple of cycles, reached a consensus on its next operation.

Unit relocated to the access port of a nearby atmospheric circulation system and began deconstructing, its constituent nanobots separating, entering the vent, and reforming in a more practical shape - a long, flexible cylinder with a number of small limbs along its length.

Once it had completely transferred itself into the atmospheric circulation system, it advanced on its objective - the atmospheric containment lock, designated Airlock F14, where the vessel designated Starsong, Air Cruiser, was docked.

Due to the efficient form, and lack of traffic on the chosen route, Unit arrived at its destination in exactly 31.2493483 seconds - approximately 19 seconds prior to the estimated time of arrival of Abigail Drake, Captain.

Unit engaged its deconstruction protocols again, component nanobots filtering through the wall and gathering in a cluster under the metal deck directly adjacent to the atmospheric containment lock.

When the Human arrived, and the door opened, Unit waited for them to move inside following, sequentially transferring its nanobots from the deep space facility to the vessel.

Upon entering, the Human wasted no time in moving at high speed to the bow of the air cruiser, not even to discard their insulation garb.

Hypothesis - control room located near ship's bow. Observation - similar to accepted conventions of other known races. Humans, Engi, Lanius, and Mantis.

Unit tracked and pursued the Human, maintaining its scattered physical form. The narrow but functional atmospheric circulation system in the vessel's ceiling proved an optimal travel route, equal to its counterpart on Merridew Station, despite its significantly smaller cross section.

As the Engi passed the atmospheric circulation system's access ports, one hundred nanobots disengaged from the core platform, taking position and scanning the rooms below. The first three rooms Unit passed on each side were unoccupied, as was the fourth room on the right. The fourth room on the left contained one (1) Human, hibernating on the biological recharge platform.

Unit recovered that nanite cluster. It was against protocol to observe hibernating units without just cause. In a significant majority of cases, organics expressed negative emotional reactions when they observed the phenomena.

Further exploration of Starsong, Air Cruiser, was discontinued as a wash of energy waves, radiation, and atmospheric vibrations, characteristic of an activating FTL Phase Drive, filled Unit's sensors.

When the emissions faded to background levels seven point three seconds later, Unit began a few fairly basic calculations.

Duration of travel, 7.319468 seconds. Average speed of FTL travel, 12.9 light years per second. Estimated distance from Merridew Station, 94.4211372 lightyears. Approximate range bracket, 2.3479262 lightyears.

Within the range bracket of 92.073211 to 96.7690634 lightyears There are no star systems or FTL Beacons within range of Merridew Station.

Variables - FTL Speed, Duration of Travel

FTL Speed unknown - Merridew Upgrades suggest level of technical experience surpassing our own. Starsong, Air Cruiser may possess engines beyond previously accepted limits.

Duration of Travel certain to within a 0.007% margin of error.

Alternate hypothesis - Starsong, Air Cruiser, does not navigate using FTL Beacons. Unsafe practice. High chance of navigational drift without signals to triangulate position. Crew unaware of danger? Unconcerned with danger?

Further investigation required.

Unit continued crawling through the atmospheric circulation system, taking care to avoid imparting too much force on his environment in case the excess vibrations alerted the ship's crew, and arrived after approximately seven seconds of crawling at a filtration grate overlooking a room that had a 98.3% probability of being the ship's command centre.

Abigail Drake, Captain, stood behind the starboard command console, grasper limbs crossed over the headrest of the personnel containment shelf in front of them.

Observation - misuse of safety equipment. Unaware of proper operation, or continued disregard for own safety. Abigail Drake, Captain, is ranking officer of both vessel and vessel group. Implications… worrying.

A second Human was attached and locked into their personnel containment shelf, located adjacent to the vessel's navigational controls. Their grasper limbs were idle, resting on the specially designed platforms adorning the side of the shelf.

Observation - unknown Human, Pilot, is following safety regulations. Abigail Drake, Captain, likely not unaware of regulations, simply uncaring. Loosely regulated procedures. Vessel group leader is unprofessional. Likely extends further through command line, in both directions.

Further investigation required.

Unit turned its attention away from the two organics, redirecting its focus to the other visible elements of the vessel's control room.

Layout is similar to standardised Human designs. Unknown interface layout, uniquely designed control surfaces - nonstandard ship design. Faith Foundation have sufficient resources and funds to design and produce air cruisers and small corvettes, and accompanying operation software.

Faith Foundation, previously unknown group. Not in any accessed records. Possess development capacity of small solar system. Implications concerning.

Through the primary optic viewport, the Starsong's five Pilgrim, Corvette charges became visible. They approximated an approach vector with the nearest asteroid, decelerating moments before point of force transferal.

Millions of nanomachines were released from the underside of each corvette, converging on the drifting mass of rock and ore and stripping away layers of mass, creating a large flat area.

Then began a construction process - foundations were laid out and built upon, a growing network of interlinked buildings spreading across the asteroid.

Observation - mass projected onto asteroid far surpasses total mass of vessel group. Mass projected onto asteroid surpasses mass removed from asteroid by mining operations. Faith Foundation vessels utilizing more mass than they should possess.

Hypothesis - long range transportation of matter. Counterpoint - no teleportation infrastructure, no background emissions consistent with continuous use of Phase Teleportation technology.

Alternate hypothesis - matter created on site from no or negligible resources, in direct violation of {the law of conservation of mass}. Counterpoint - is direct violation of {the law of conservation of mass}.

No further alternates.

Processing...

Error.

Does not compute.

---

After performing a total-network reboot to confirm it was operating at 100%, Unit reassessed the situation.

Observation - Calculations consistent. Results unchanged. Derivative observation - Faith Foundation vessels either engaging in large-scale matter transportation, or violating {the law of conservation of mass}.

Further investigation required.

Unit recalled the seven sensory nodes left behind in the atmospheric circulation system and engaging in deconstruction, individual nanites filtering through the filtration grate and dropping to the metal deck before rebuilding themselves into a humanoid form.

Unit engaged its atmospheric vibration unit as it dipped into its databanks, accessing the relevant information on Human customs and conversation structure.

"Captain Drake. Would you like to explain?"

The Human slowly turned away from the viewport to observe Unit and emptied their respiratory organs.

"I'd love to say something along the lines of 'Ah, I've been expecting you,' but that would be incorrect… how the hell did you get on my ship?"

"I entered through the starboard airlock."

"I had Dante watching the door the whole time we were docked. No one boarded the ship except for me."

Observation - Engi methods of stealth continue to be effective.

"I entered through the starboard airlock. Your denial does not change the facts. Would you like to explain?"

The Human rotated their optics and made a gesture representing confusion before responding. "Yes, I'd like a damn explanation. How'd you actually get on my ship?"

"I entered through the starboard airlock. Please explain how you are engaging in construction of that facility."

The captain glanced over their shoulder, where the now far more advanced facility was still undergoing construction, before turning back to Unit.

"Alright, how about this. If I explain how I'm building that facility, will you explain how you got on my ship?"

Exchange of information. Acceptable terms.

"Very well. How are you building that facility?"

The Human smirked. "Nanomachines, son."

Observation - non-answer. Abigail Drake, Captain, being purposefully vague. Unwilling to answer question.

Further observation - Abigail Drake, Captain, lacks understanding of both Human and Engi families and/or reproductive cycles. In addition to previous examples of lack or disregard of knowledge of safety protocols, new hypothesis. Abigail Drake, Captain, is an idiot.