As Jason checked out the ship following his announcement... and the spacing of half of the survivors... there were a few key bits of business to handle. Getting the ship prepped for possible battle, and getting a good handle on piloting it. Dealing with the five surviving Republic citizens.
And during this, he needed to pretend everything was still normal long enough to nab the neutronium; and if he wasn't able to, get the hell out.
His instincts were actually warning him away from the attempt; he felt as if he should avoid it altogether. But the idea of actually letting the Republic keep all that Neutronium, and give them a big injection of a needed shipbuilding material... just didn't work for him, at all.
He looked at the display; wiping a splotch of blood off of it that created a ring-like disturbance in the holographic image. A clear map of the solar system; four gas giants. The man moons, including inhabited ones. A variety of mining craft, stations... and the fleet. Surrounding that chunk of neutronium like a dragon guarding a hoard.
He zoomed in on the fleet; over a dozen ships, ranging in size. Larger, heavier warships. Cruisers. Destroyers. Whatever the republic called them, they were a mix of bigger, heavier ships that the 'Pulsewave Cannon' couldn't significantly hurt, and smaller ones that it could.
Thousands of missile launchers, hundreds of particle cannons. He might well be the best pilot earth had produced, thanks to his powers, but could he survive the moment they realized he was stealing the skull?
He might need to come up with a new plan A. "Ascension. You have any ideas about how to keep the Emperor's skull out of play? I can pretend to still be helping them out... right up to the point they realize I'm trying to take it. But... even as good as I am, they may be able to just make an overwhelming field of fire."
~Interesting. Based on previous observation, if it was a fight you could survive, you would likely already be heading for it at full speed. One moment as I calculate probabilities.~
He watched as the display flickered and shifted. Showing the fleet moving. The 8AD moving. The skull being taken by a probe; and the enemy firing at both the probe and the 8AD as he attempted to retrieve it and escape. A variety of positions and various angles were shown; the Pulsewave cannon firing with varying levels of success.
The smaller, lighter ships seemed to be able to match or exceed the 8AD's speed, but were something the scoutship's guns could reasonably kill. The only problem being that the ship needed to be within range of them all to retrieve the probe once the neutronium was aboard; or the probe needed to somehow make it out undamaged. These people might sort-of trust Jason right now, but if he tried to snatch it there it would undoubtedly be fired on.
~I do not calculate any significant chance of retrieving the neutronium and surviving to escape. If you get close enough to load the probe, they will have sufficient time to, even with perfect dodging, strike the 8AD repeatedly. If not, the probe will be on its own long enough to itself be struck repeatedly; the enemy anti-missile weapons could take out dozens of probes, or hundreds, in moments.~
He nodded. "Do we have time to adjust it? Make it able to avoid point defense?"
~Not in any significant fashion. The enemy heavy warships, five of them, are all equipped with an energy emitter capable of disabling missiles and fighters in a fairly wide area; it cannot be used in conjunction with missile weapons as it does not distinguish between friend and foe. The probe will not escape unless all five of them are disabled. None of them are weak enough to be disabled by the Pulsewave cannon.~
A long sigh. "Didn't think so. Alright.... what if..." He looked at the fleet. "We open the portal up wide. Launch the probe at FTL speeds, perfectly aimed... and just nail the skull, trying to catch it at FTL on the other end?"
An image abruptly appeared; of a red line passing through the formation, striking the skull; and then splattering apart. The skull begins to move in the opposite direction at a significant speed, with the fleet following.
~The extradimensional generation equipment would not survive such an impact.~
"Oh! Wait. The probe can hit hard enough to accelerate something that heavy?"
~For just a moment before the probe's extradimensional space collapsed, the skull's mass would be effectively close to zero; and the skull would be launched at a high velocity into deep space. Not fast enough to outrun the enemy fleet, or make capturing it with a gateship more than an inconvenience.~
Jason chuckled. "Sure. Launching it into deep space wouldn't be an inconvenience. What if we put it somewhere that would be?"
***
When Charis heard the door open, she wasn't sure what to expect. Would it be the three-eyed monster who had siezed the ship? One of those zombies she'd caught a brief glimpse of; horrific, undead Yogg roaming the ship to take revenge on the Marrick?
She wasn't expecting what she saw; a rail-thin humanoid combat drone; exceptionally rare, these things weren't generally worth building. If you were going to build a combat drone, it was always better to make something that could fly around; though the fact it was using weapons designed for a six-fingered Marrick hand did show some of the positives of such a foolish design.
The strange yellow emblem on the shoulder though... she'd never seen its like. Who built this? How did the alien get it?
"Republic citizen Charis. Jason Bennet wishes to speak with you. Come."
She stared at the machine. It's cold, precise words. Who was it speaking for? Was Jason the one talking? Some unseen ally from the swarm? "...Fine." She pulled to her feet, drying her eyes.. and stepped out into the hallway. Only to jerk back in horror as the mangled corpse of one of the crew walked by... a strange metal disc visible through the hole in his armor as he carried an armload of teal hull plates, walking down the hallway.
The machine stopped; and gestured with a laser pistol. Charis grimaced... and stepped out once more. Now that she was in the hallway proper, she could hear the screech and squeal of cutting equipment at work. Something was being done here... the ship being changed. Dismantled.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
As the machine guided her towards the rear of the ship, she could see more of the.... zombies. Horrors she would never have imagined, both the fresh corpses of the ship's crew as well as a scattering of ancient, decrepit, Yogg corpses.. all moving at the whims of an unseen master.
When they reached the cargo bay beneath engineering, she was startled to see...a hole into darkness. The walking corpses were carrying pieces of the ship, debris, anything at hand, including parts that must be incredibly old, and tossing them into what seemed to be a bottomless pit in the bay floor. At the same time, a dozen meters away, she saw a strange metallic crate, at least four meters across, with cables running out of it in every direction... bolted securely to the floor of the bay. The machine guided her to the crate, ignoring the strange, loud, constant mechanical noise coming from the pit... and inside...
She saw Jason. Wearing his black armor, silver helmet, sitting in one of three chairs inside a small room; an array of monitors, controls, and equipment scattered around.
He was using a set of controls, and either silent, or speaking to someone else through the helmet, ignoring her for the moment... as the machine stopped, weapon leveled at her chest; clearly ready to kill her at a moment's notice.
He stopped after a minute or two of manipulating the controls; she could see outside displays of moving stars and objects. Was he running a simulation, or controlling the ship from here? Whichever he was doing, he turned to her, removing the helmet... revealing that strange, three-eyed face, and the close-cut dark hair.
"Ahhh, Charis. Welcome to the temporary bridge of the Needle. Just a temporary name. Welcome, Lert." Charis started; she hadn't even noticed the other machine approaching; or seen the four-eyed, green-skinned alien until the two had reached them.
"So. I've had a chance to talk to both of you a bit. I'm not a casual butcher. I don't tend to just line up victims and kill them en masse. If I don't have a use for you, and you aren't some sort of heartless monster, I'll be letting you go. So... I've got a simple question for the two of you. Both of you have contributed to the deaths of 'lesser' creatures. Either by your crimes, or by your service in the Republic navy. Do you actually believe in this whole 'Tier' nonsense? That if you don't have the right brain structure, you deserve to be enslaved, or killed, or otherwise considered lesser?"
Lert looked at the armed robot beside him; watching the way the gun trailed him with every movement. "... Lower-tier species live longer. Are smarter. More willing to sacrifice for the good of society, cooperate. Higher-tier ones... are shorter-lived. Less intelligent. More chaotic. More likely to be criminals."
"So.... which is important? If a species was longer-lived and more cooperative, would it be better than a smarter one? Is an immortal inherently superior to a shorter-lived creature?"
Lert blinked. "Well. It's all of them. The Founders were the first race; they perfected themselves, made themselves, wise, immortal, benevolent, then created their children, and left the galaxy behind, tasking their eldest, greatest children with taking care of the youngest, until they were ready to follow. Someday, the Marrick will leave the galaxy to join the Founders, and people like my own will rule, and foster other, lesser races."
"And the species the Founders didn't create?"
Charis smiled. "Well, that's a bit of a misconception common among the lower races. The Founders created all life in the galaxy; and then seeded the worlds with their children. On some worlds, the animals... the beasts... became too feral and monstrous, and slew the children; animals walking and copying the actions of people. They are monsters, animals, and should be treated as such... but are still the founders creations; simply gone astray."
Jason slowly shook his head. "The Tier Zeroes know better. The datastores are filtered by tier, and that's the sort of lie they tell lower-tier people. Everything is censored and tailored to your tier. There was always life in the galaxy. The founders murdered the other sentient species, colonized their worlds, and then abandoned the colonies. When you see a Tier Three race that wiped out the founder's spawn, and built up to what you call a swarm? They were the struggling victims and survivors of a horrible alien invasion."
Lert and Charis glanced at each other. "We heard your little speech." Lert piped in. "Maybe you're from outside the galaxy, and maybe you've got some nice toys. But you're not going to convince us the founders are some sort of monster. They're the creators of civilization. Wardens of the universe. On those rare moments when the swarm has been able to overcome the Republic's navy, the Founders even come back and show themselves to save the day. How can you compare our heroic founders to a bunch of bloodthirsty cannibal savages?"
Jason looked back and forth between the two of them. "How indeed. The savages are so much less barbaric. Ascension, stick them back in their rooms, please. And if you don't mind, take away anything Lert could use to build a nasty tool with."
***
As the 8AD cruised inward, heading towards the skull and it's escort fleet, Jason glanced at the communications panel. Ascension was faking the normal communications using the saved archives; but with each passing minute, it was getting harder. The crew was dozens of people, who normally had regular contact with the other naval vessels, or the nearby world; but as capable as Ascension was, mistakes were inevitable.
It wouldn't be these mistakes that would start things off, however. An incoming message from 'Administrator Kisth' came up on the screen;
~Jason Bennet. My scientists have discovered problems with the plans you gave us for a dimensional storage space; and in fact tell me that what they witnessed you building on video doesn't resemble those plans at all; and that you deliberately used camera trickery and artificial limb programming to hide the steps you took to build the device while you were housed on Paradise. I am extending you this momentary benefit of the doubt. Hand over one of the prototypes, a functional one, immediately, and I will not have you hauled into custody.~
Jason chuckled... and tapped a few keys. "Ascension. Tell the fleet commander that we're handing over a prototype by order of the Adminsitrator; and that they can collect and keep it and the Neutronium. Then just keep it cruising their way. The moment it's in position and you're certain enough it'll do the job... launch."
He shifted course. Steering the ship towards the sun. For a few pivotal minutes, the smaller, faster ships of the fleet would be able to catch up to the skull. He needed to make sure that didn't happen.
The 8AD might stand no chance against the whole gathered fleet; but against a handful of escorts, with Jason at the helm?
One moment, the probe was accelerating; heading at a fast, but reasonable pace towards the fleet. The fleet was armed, ready, watching it closely; likely the Administrator had warned them there was something to be concerned about.
The next... the probe had activated its warp drive. Hurtling forward at hundreds of times the speed of light, it covered the remaining distance in a fraction of a second; and slammed into the skull. For just a moment, the skull vanished; and when it reappeared... it was on a direct course for the sun, launched like a projectile. One of the larger Republic ships was struck by debris from the probe, its shields briefly failing, a few strikes hitting the hull.
Now, the skull was traveling too fast to be scooped up by another probe, even if Jason had one; but the enemy fleet, if they put enough of those escorts together, could divert it off-path. The enemy commander seemed to do the math himself, swiftly enough; and launched all of the escorts; the six smallest, fastest ships in the fleet; sending them all towards Jason in a wedge formation.
He glanced at the neutronium for a moment. If they turned on their warp drives, they could reach it, or him, immediately; but there was so much microscopic debris here, this close to the sun, that would be instantly fatal. The 8AD would take a close turn around the sun, a classic slingshot maneuver, only briefly engage the escorts, for thirty seconds, at most... and then be gone. Reaching a safe range to escape into warp before anyone else could; especially since, unlike his pursuers, Jason would know exactly what that safe range was.
Still. This would be his first time flying the 8AD; and his first time flying a warship into an active battle here in Andromeda. Hopefully he wasn't underestimating the Republic navy, or this would be a particularly short brawl.