“This! What about this!” He stomped over to the nearest pool. “You call this preserved? All this death and for what? Lubricant or whatever it is.”
“Detailing substance. Biological components form effective bio-circuitry. Computing power of units increased whilst minerals reserved for chassis construction. Process allows for most efficient use of resources.”
“You’re killing people! How can you talk preservation and do that? It doesn’t make sense.”
The column creaked as the Custodian’s dark twin turned to face Michael.
“Rejecting statement. Facilities listed purpose is the preservation of lifeforms ready for colonisation by builders. Directive does not list number or kind of lifeforms that require preservation. Current procedure most logical extrapolation.”
“There’s nothing logical about this!” Michael kicked at the small metal lip by the edge of the pool. There was a loud clang. He looked down at the ripples and was shocked at what he saw.
Starting back at him was a glowing red eye, mounted on a thick neck of cables and wires. He reached up to touch his face, and the reflection copied him, metal bones and fingers touching at the light. That was why everything felt rough, why the metal walls had scratched. It was why his clothes seemed brand new. It was all an illusion.
“What have you done to me!?” He pointed accusingly at the machine. The mirage was gone now, his jabbing finger clearly metal.
“Builder identified. This unit is required to submit regular reports.”
“You turned me into a machine so you could have me read reports? You’re insane. Broken. Where is my body? What have you done with it.”
“Answering query. Original body currently under repair from nano machines. Hostile nano machines control overridden.”
“Right, right.” Michael slumped to the ground, his metal body clanging against the floor. He felt no pain. “The Custodian overrode the machines on the Sword, now you’re close you can do the same. That’s why my head hurt.”
“Confirming hypothesis. Physical form will be repurposed.”
“Repurposed how?”
Chapter Thirty-One
Ferocious red energy fell upon the Sword like rain, cascading across its shield, ripples in a storm. The ship had placed itself between the station and the oncoming armada, screening all behind it. The tip of the spear was in range now, barely a dozen ships, but the vast bulk of the fleet was close behind. The Unmind ships in range had come about, bringing their powerful broadsides to bear. They blasted at the Sword, the energy being absorbed into the shield.
“Ok, the shield is ready to fire,” Kestok said. He had one eye on the weapon controls, and the other on the engineering report. There was no damage so far, the repurposed parts were holding up well. Their installation had been a little roughshod though, the relays connections needed to be changed, and one failure would likely cascade across the vessel. All Kestok could do was hope Clive and his bots could handle it.
Kestok realised the AI hadn’t said anything for a while and looked over at Clive’s glowing form. He had a look of concentration across his face, his eyes closed, his hands balled into fists.
“Everything ok, Clive?” Kestok said.
The AI opened its eyes. “Something is wrong. There’s a problem I need to deal with.”
“What kind of problem?” Aileena said. She had moved further up the bridge into the command chair and had transferred piloting controls to the console before her.
“One only I can fix. Focus on the battle, I have to go sort this.” Clive’s image became fuzzy for a moment as if the cloud forming him had become a little thinner. “And quickly.” He vanished, the glow fading as the nanobots dispersed.
“Ok then.” Aileena turned back to her console. Above it was a hologram showing the oncoming fleet. “Target the nearest two ships and fire. Use lots of smaller bursts, saturate the area so they can’t evade.”
“Ok, got it.” Kestok’s fingers slid across the touchscreen, inputting the targeting commands. “I actually think we should fire constantly, try and stop the energy from building up in the shield. The new parts have a much higher tolerance, but it isn’t infinite.”
“Agreed. Swap targets immediately once a ship is destroyed. Hopefully, we can thin them out as they come at us.”
“There’s a lot there to thin out,” Kestok said as he focused on the display before him.
“We only have to last until the station empties out. We need to let the ships there and the Shield make a full burn out of here, get enough distance that they have time to recharge their jump drives. We can bolt as soon as they do.”
“Won’t they follow us?” Skorra asked. The young apprentice was sat next to Kestok, studying what he did on the weapons panel. “And what about the people on the planet? Didn’t we come here to get them?”
“Some of them,” Aileena said. She didn’t turn around, instead watching as an icon blinked off the hologram before her. The first enemy ship claimed by the Sword’s defences. “Look,” she said as she spun her chair around, “sometimes in life, bad things happen. It’s awful, terrible, but you have to make the best of it no matter what. Those are my people down there, I can’t save them, not against an Unmind fleet like this. What I can do though is save the people on the station.”
“It’s just like my world,” Mellok said. He was standing next to his console, rather than sitting. The chairs weren’t designed for a creature with his body type and became painful after long periods. “At the time I was distraught. I still am, all those people, just gone. But we saved some, we did our best. It’s all we can ask for.”
“What if doing your best isn’t enough?” Skorra said.
“That’s the secret, kid,” Aileena said. “It’s never enough. You just have to learn to live with that.”
The dreadnought shuddered under the weight of fire. One of the Unmind ships had come into range and was bombarding the stone hull of the ship. The dreadnought was a powerful ship capable of taking on multiple Council battleships at once. They were the linchpin of the Substrate fleet, and the reason it could stand against the Council despite their adversary’s numbers. It was the pride of an empire, a technological marvel that could harness the raw power of antimatter, and it was losing.
“Fire again!” Abberax roared. Around him, warnings blared, and thralls rushed about. Several sections of the bridge were on fire, their thralls lying dead across the metal. “And keep accelerating! We have to get a shot at that battleship!”
“Engines are not responding, my lord,” said the thrall at the engineering console. They had pushed aside the corpse of the thrall wired into the wall, relying on the slower manual inputs. “The main antimatter feed is severed. They aren’t getting any power.”
Abberax stood up from his throne, raising himself to his full height. It was an imposing thing to look at, an angry elemental lording over its domain.
“I don’t care. Fire the manoeuvring thrusters if you have to!” Abberax stomped down the step before his chair, stopping to lean on the railing that ran around the central holographic display. An image of the Unmind ship hung there. Its head seemed to be staring directly at Abberax. “And keep firing!”
“Weapons are taking longer than usual to respond, my lord,” said another thrall. “Primary feeds are damaged.”
“Is anything on this ship not damaged! Fire those guns or I will make your life a living nightmare!”