It takes José and Kisa around five minutes to walk across the Bloodbearer's hangar bay. When they arrive at their destination, Kisa gasps audibly. "Wow! Is this the Slipstream? It looks way different from the other ships around it!"
José nods. "It is, and you're right; it does."
The Admiral pauses before the bullet-shaped vessel. At fifty meters tall, seventy long, and thirty wide, it appears much smaller than Drall's ship, the Red-Tongue, yet still much bigger than the other shuttlecraft nearby. Despite not having stepped inside it since his rebirth, José vaguely recalls its appearance from the recordings Umi showed him. After taking a moment to replay them again, he cocks his head slightly.
"Synthmind 4131, your craft appears different from my memories. What are those blue energy-pipes lining your outer hull? They vaguely resemble miniature plasma conduits. I don't recall you possessing them previously."
"Affirmative, Admiral Rodriguez, they are miniaturized plasma conduits," Synthmind 4131 affirms, projecting his voice from his ship's external speakers. "I have improved my performance parameters substantially. Not only has my hull's generic damage resistance risen by [SEVENTY TWO POINT THREE] percent compared to its previous values, but its maneuverability has also increased by [THREE HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN POINT NINE] percent. Previously, my vessel could only improve its internal functionality, as I had lost any relevant scans of advanced Terran spacecraft due to the erasure of my original records. This, in turn, caused my hull and programming to revert to its base state. However, by studying the Bloodbearer's shuttlecraft and interceptors, I have once again built up my data storage enough to form parent-proxy relationships, enabling me to extrapolate new and experimental ship designs over time."
"That sounds promising," José says, as he starts wandering around the Slipstream's exterior, examining it from different angles. "The transformations you mentioned earlier, could you please explain their functionality to me? What are your new and improved capabilities?"
The Slipstream's front entry ramp hisses open, deploying to the Bloodbearer's deckplates. "Admiral, it will be easier for me to explain if you visit my Bridge."
"Of course," José replies. He gestures for Kisa to follow him. "Come along. This will be a good learning experience for you."
"Y-yes, Admiral," Kisa answers.
The two of them stride up the Slipstream's entry ramp, with José's boots clomping loudly, while Kisa's claws delicately tap against the metal ramp as she timidly tries not to make too much noise.
After stepping inside the Slipstream's entry port, José pauses for a moment to look around. The interior appears just as shiny and fancy as ever, but noticeably more electronic panels line the walls, each of them displaying far more sophisticated information than in the recordings he took before his death.
"4131, did the Kessu upgrade your internal systems?" José asks.
"Negative, Admiral Rodriguez," 4131 replies. "As a Bioship, I can alter my exterior and my interior, provided I have a detailed schematic file available for each desired transformation. The Slipstream is presently in its base form; a Liaison-Class scientific and observation stealth exocraft. This is my most maneuverable and difficult to detect form. By utilizing refractive bioplating, I can scatter and diffuse all but the most tightly-concentrated scanning technology, dropping my sensor profile to the level of background cosmic radiation. However, one of the advanced transformations I have designed with Synthmind Umi's assistance is one that also reduces my visibility among the known light spectrums, allowing my ship to become all but invisible to the naked eye. Do note that the improvements in stealth also come at the cost of reducing my speed and maneuverability."
José rubs his chin thoughtfully. He continues walking down the ship's corridors, arriving inside the Slipstream's bridge not long after.
"Show me the different transformations you have available, please."
"Affirmative, Admiral. However, please be aware that every transformation will require a substantial time-cost, while others will also require my crew to exit the Slipstream's interior for the duration of the transformation. This is because adjusting my interior is an exact science; a bio-engineering process that will crush and suffocate anyone within the Slipstream's confines while I transform. For now, I must recommend that you instead peruse the holographic schematics for my transformations, instead."
"That works for me," José says, before turning and flashing a quick smile at Kisa. "Consider yourself lucky. Few Terrans ever got to see an Adaptive-Type Bioship in all their lives, let alone the denizens of this galaxy. The Slipstream might be the last one still functioning within the Milky Way."
Kisa nods. "I am somewhat familiar with starship mechanics, Admiral... but my knowledge doesn't go far beyond Fifth Era technology. You'll probably end up disappointed in any observations I make."
"There's no shame in lacking knowledge," José replies. "It's only when you refuse to learn that you will inevitably out yourself as an ignoramus."
"I'll take that lesson to heart," Kisa replies, lowering her head bashfully.
The Admiral stands a short distance away from the center of the Slipstream's Bridge. A holographic representation of the Slipstream appears in midair, showing up as a 1:200-scale image. The Admiral reaches out his hand and begins rotating the Slipstream's schematics for several minutes, scrutinizing its nooks and crannies.
"Show me what the schematic looked like before you upgraded," José orders.
Instantly, a second holographic image appears next to the first. This one appears a tad smaller, with significantly fewer and less complicated internal circuits, a couple of rooms missing, and a vastly inferior engine and burn drive.
The Admiral whistles. "Damn. You weren't joking. It's like comparing a caveman to... one of Ramma's Chosen. Haha."
José waves his hands, causing both of the holograms to disappear. "Alright. You mentioned seven advanced transformations. Show me those, first. Also, what are the differences between the transformation categories?"
A moment later, seven holograms appear in midair, each one a vastly different ship than the others. One of them resembles a miniature version of the Red-Tongue, with two wings extending outward and photon cannons mounted in their centers. Another bears the appearance of an extremely long and slim barracuda, with an elastic midsection capable of bending and twisting to avoid attacks.
"The differences between advanced, intermediate, and low-level transformations are as follows:" 4131 explains. "[FIRST], advanced transformations require my crew to evacuate and wait while I reconfigure the Slipstream's interior and exterior. Each transformation possesses vastly different designs from my base hull configuration, but also changes my combat capabilities, deep-space exploration capabilities, and so on. These transformations are powerful, but inflexible."
"[SECOND], intermediate transformations. Some of these require my crew to evacuate while I transform, while others do not. Many of the intermediate transformations are simply variations of the advanced versions, and thus, I must first convert my main body to an advanced form before shifting to the intermediate version afterward."
"[THIRD], low-level transformations. This term is something of a misnomer. In effect, it allows me to split my hull into multiple smaller vessels possessing independent computational powers, yet all of them still capable of interfacing with one another to increase their effective combat ratings."
At the last explanation, José nearly has a heart attack. "What?! You can split yourself into smaller vessels?! How is that even possible? Show me!"
"Orders acknowledged, Admiral," 4131 beeps. The seven advanced transformation holograms disappear, while the newly upgraded Slipstream base design reappears, followed by six smaller holographic ships, each one only the size of a two-man interceptor.
"The [SIX] ships presented here are merely miniaturized versions of my main body," 4131 continues. "They possess limited personnel capacity and little in the way of comfort amenities, yet compensate by functioning as excellent escape vessels with an even fainter sensor profile than my base model. I can also adopt offense and defense-based interceptor subtypes, or in certain instances, mix and match according to the situation. For example, [TWO] offensive interceptors, [TWO] cargo haulers, and [TWO] stealth exocraft for the purpose of harassing an enemy frigate."
José's head reels with possibilities. "S-show me the seven advanced models again."
"Yes, Admiral."
The images once again switch to seven large-sized holograms, allowing the Admiral to scrutinize them one by one.
"On the far left, you will see a Heavy Fighter equipped with twin-barrel Phoenix Blasters, a small guided missile rack for targeting enemy fighters, and fortified armor all across its midsection and wings. [TWO] rotating gun mounts on the top and bottom allow any organic crewmember to take manual control if necessary and target enemy vessels at their discretion."
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
"To that vessel's right, you will see the Stealth Fighter I mentioned before. It has a First Strike damage rating of [TEN], but a follow-up damage rating of [TWO]. The forward-mounted railgun is excellent at attacking the enemy from their blind spot, but the power requirement is taxing on my subsystems. If the Slipstream does not cripple or destroy an enemy with the first shot, I will require a significant amount of time before I can fire again. It also possesses [TEN] swivel-mounted machine-guns, sufficient for destroying enemy fighters and harassing shields, but little else."
Synthmind 4131 continues speaking. He details five other advanced transformations, including a heavy bomber, a personnel carrier, and a living weapons rack with no room for any personnel.
When 4131 reaches the final advanced transformation, José chuckles in spite of himself. "Is this even a ship? It looks like a robotic exosuit. I doubt its spaceborne maneuverability will be anything worth writing home about."
"You are correct, Admiral," 4131 replies, his voice devoid of emotion. "This final transformation is a ground-based assault platform meant for planetary subjugation. In this form, the Slipstream will stand forty meters tall, and be capable of long-range artillery bombardment and close-range terrain saturation alike. This final form is one of several ground-based transformations I researched by studying the schematics of the Titan Battlesuits inside the Planetary Assault bay."
"Wow!" Kisa gasps, surprising herself and José both. "I've never heard of a ship that can transform into other ship classes, but transforming into a landwalker is even more incredible! Whoever designed the Slipstream must have been a genius!"
"You're completely correct," José says, patting Kisa's shoulder. "Based upon this assault platform's thruster profile, it can fly to planets and back to space without any issue. That means the Slipstream could transform ahead of time aboard the Bloodbearer, then fly down to Tarus II and assist our ground forces."
The Admiral flicks through several dozen intermediate and low-level transformations, discovering that the Slipstream can also transform into up to ten Titans of nearly identical size and firepower as the ones in the Planetary Assault Bay.
Two hours pass before the Admiral finishes flipping through the Slipstream's schematics. Kisa stays at his side, gawking and grinning as she chats with him about all the different forms the Slipstream can assume.
"I didn't expect to get such a pleasant surprise today," José says, "but I'm glad I did. Too bad, but I have to leave now. I have an appointment in the holodeck, but I will certainly return, 4131."
"Your gratitude is unnecessary," 4131 replies. "My purpose is to serve the United Terran Coalition. As long as I can fulfill my duty, I will be compliant with my programming."
"Maybe so, but I'm still appreciative!" José laughs. He turns and walks toward the Slipstream's exit with stars dancing in his eyes.
After the two of them leave the Slipstream behind, Kisa rubs her claws together in front of her chest. "Admiral, forgive me for asking if this question is inappropriate, but what 'operation' did you keep mentioning to that synthmind? Something about a dee-munn?"
"Oh, sorry," José says, scratching the back of his head. "I forgot I hadn't told you yet. There's a terrible monster on Tarus II who I need to kill. His name is Yama, and he is a Demon Emperor. You see, Demons are sort of like parasites..."
The Admiral continues debriefing Kisa on the enemy they'll soon face. All the while, she merely nods and listens, taking in the information with solemnity and grace.
.......................................
Fifteen minutes later, José and Kisa arrive at the holodeck's entrance. They walk inside to find a simulation in progress. Instead of performing combat training, Megla and Soren stand at the far end of the room alongside their father, with a hologram of Yama and his Shades. They pace back and forth, explaining to the nine hundred and fifty-something Kraktol present about the capabilities of the enemy they'll eventually face.
Despite having not faced the Shades in direct combat like José did, Megla and Soren manage to recreate his abilities with Umi's help, extrapolating a simulated combat event by turning José's recordings into three-dimensional holograms.
When José enters the Holodeck, Kisa immediately locks eyes on the Shadow Emperor and gasps. "Oh, no! Is that Yama? He's so frightening! I can't imagine facing him in the darkness, like you did, Admiral. You're incredibly brave!"
"I didn't have much of a choice," José grunts. "Trust me. Fighting a Demon Emperor and his cronies alone was never something I wanted to try."
When the Holodeck doors close behind the Admiral and Kisa, all of the other Kraktol turn around to look at them.
"Admiral," Soren says, raising her voice across the room. "I've just finished debriefing everyone here about Yama's powers and abilities. In fact, I was about to message you."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to take so long," José says, as he walks through the crowd of Kraktol. His eyes flick around in huge, sweeping arcs, passing over the sea of rainbow-colored scalies surrounding him. Before he can make it halfway through the chattering throng, a blue-and-green-scaled Kraktol female suddenly appears at his side as if by magic and latches onto his arm.
"José, darling!" Sapphire chuffs, attaching herself to him like a possessive lover. "I'm so glad you finally came!"
Admiral Rodriguez stifles the urge to roll his eyes. "Sapphire. I'm glad to see you, too."
"Kyargh! Are you? Oh, you know the words I like to hear!"
José ignores her and continues walking forward, practically dragging Sapphire along for the ride. He arrives at the front of the amassed Kraktol with Kisa half-hiding behind him, then pauses to stare at the tiny little four-foot-tall Shadow Emperor's hologram.
"This demon is presently the most dangerous being in the entire galaxy," José says, addressing the entire room. "I don't know what details Soren and Megla have explained, but I trust they've covered the important stuff. Killing the Shadow Emperor won't be easy, but it will certainly be possible. I'll expect everyone to be on their A-game, and for a level of cooperation that I'm guessing most of you haven't ever pulled off in all the years since you formed your society."
After glancing at Sapphire, José extracts his arm from her grasp, then folds his hands behind his back and begins to pace around in front of Yama's hologram.
"The Kraktol are former slaves; servants of the Kessu. You rose up and broke free of your shackles, and quickly became a galactic power in your own right. I must admit, that is an incredible feat and admirable in its own right. However, from my perspective, every single one of you is lacking! Megla is a top-tier soldier in the Kraktol Empire, yet when we first met, she barely met the minimum standards of the ancient Terran Empire. That's not a dig at my first officer, but simply a statement of fact."
José shrugs apologetically at Megla, who merely smiles in embarrassment.
Then, he continues speaking.
"I cannot have any subpar soldiers fighting for me in this upcoming operation. Luckily, I have good news for all of you. In exchange for helping me defeat Yama, I am going to unleash upon everyone here a harsh training regimen that will turn each and every one of you into absolute killing machines. Your combat prowess will not double, nor will it triple. I estimate that, instead, you will see a tenfold increase in your battlefield efficiency, turning all of you into titans of your species. When you return home after this operation, you will be able to defeat any of your brothers and sisters in ritualistic combat as easily as if you were fighting fresh spawn, newly crawled from their eggs."
"I will mold you into true warriors. Monsters. You will become elites capable of destroying empires. Forget credits; the education in the ways of war I'll soon bestow upon all of you is priceless; something you can't learn from any modern institution. The experience will be absolute hellish agony, like leaping into lava and barely crawling out with your life intact. Yet, for those of you who persist, you will take your place at the top of the food chain. You will never again know fear in the face of existential danger."
José pauses. He swivels on his heel and faces the crowd.
"Before we begin, allow me to explain a few important details. I will separate you into five groups of just under two hundred Kraktol each. These groups will not be random. I'll start by measuring the objective strengths and weaknesses of every Kraktol present, including your body's fitness, as well as your mind. Once I have separated the strong from the weak, I will place everyone into tiers of power. The strongest will be in the first group, while the weakest will be in the last. But worry not! Everyone's education will be equal. Even those of you with weaker bodies or slower minds may yet prove yourselves by following my orders diligently, by persisting even when it seems as if your bodies will fail, and by pushing forward with sheer willpower!"
The Admiral pauses for a moment to gaze at the assembled crowd of brightly and dully colored scales, each one of them standing out from the rest, yet with small groups of similarly-colored Kraktol dotted about here and there.
"What makes a warrior an elite? Is it their pedigree? Their riches? Their fame and glory? Might it perhaps be their physical strength and speed? Their cunning? Their ability to follow orders?"
"No! A soldier can possess all of those things in abundance, yet still die the first time they step onto a battlefield. The ability to maintain your cool under pressure, the ability to think strategically, and the ability to detect minute changes in the flow of a battle; these three things are far more important. Even the frailest among you can slay everyone here, provided he knows their weaknesses and possesses knowledge they do not. If you cannot harmonize your mind and body, you will always possess exploitable weaknesses your adversaries can turn against you! Follow me, listen to my wisdom, accrued over hundreds of life and death battles... and someday, you will become living gods!"
The crowd of Kraktol erupts into whoops of excitement and fist-pumping. They roar and chuff excitedly, imagining the future glories they'll accomplish under the last Terran's command, all while José stands silently, allowing their excitement to build.
After more than twenty seconds of hollering and shouting, José raises his palm. The room quickly quiets down as the Kraktol await his next words with bated breath.
"I think it's clear you all understand what's at stake," José says, his voice measured and even. "So, with that in mind, I think we should get right to work. Soren, Megla, guide everyone to the medbays. It'll take a day or two to measure their physical characteristics, but once you finish, bring them back to the holodeck and notify me."
Soren nods. "Yes, Admiral."
"Of course, Admiral," Megla adds.
The crowd of Kraktol follows after their sisters, the envoys of the almighty Terran. As they leave, Sapphire pouts for a moment before reluctantly joining them, while Kisa hangs back, hesitant to follow.
"You should go, too," José says, patting Kisa's back. "You will be participating in this training as well."
"I will?" Kisa asks, her scales losing some of their color. "B-but..."
"No buts," José says, closing his eyes. "This training will be good for you. You won't have to kill anything, I promise. Nothing real, at least; only holograms."
Kisa nervously rubs her hands together. "Admiral... I'm no good at fighting. I don't think I'll be of any use to you-"
"That's for me to decide," José says, keeping his eyes closed. "Go. I won't hear any objections."
"...Yes. Alright, then. If you say so..."
Kisa's shoulders slump as she turns and walks away, keeping to the rear of the Kraktol assembly. Several of her brothers and sisters shoot nasty or annoyed glances at her, but nobody voices any objections.
A minute later, the Holodeck empties out, leaving only José and Lord Drall behind.
The Admiral finally opens his eyes. He turns to face the Kraktol general, then smiles.
"We'll have a couple of days before Megla and Soren finish testing everyone. What say you and I spar for a bit? I haven't had a good fight in... quite a while."
Lord Drall flinches, but then steels his body and grits his teeth.
"...I won't refuse, but please understand I'm not as strong as Orgon. I hope you'll go easy on me, Admiral Rodriguez."
An evil glint appears in José's eyes.
"Don't you worry, Lord Drall. I think you'll find that the Bloodbearer's medical facilities are far above and beyond anything you've ever encountered before. They can fix broken and shattered bones without any issue. Even those pesky internal injuries!"
Drall takes a step back and raises his fists as a panicked expression washes over his face.
"Oh dear."