A millimeter to the left; instant death. A millimeter to the right... catastrophic damage. A few up... just a bit further down the road.

Sweat was running down Jason's back when he finally dialed down the speed after hours of constant struggle and adjustments; dropping from thousands of times the speed of light to just a few hundred, back in the 'safe' range for this part of the galaxy. He had no idea how long he'd been doing it; only that he was exhausted, mentally... though it felt as if his body could keep on going forever, he seemed to have actually gripped the controls hard enough to dent them.

He leaned back in the chair, sliding the helmet free, realizing just how much sweat had formed inside it, as his stubble was soaked, and it started to drip down his chin onto his armor. He let out a breath, wiping the sweat from his brow, and glancing at Ascension. "Steer us for a while if you could? If I keep doing this too much longer, I might fuck it up."

The slim dull grey machine gave a nod, and the controls simply... started moving, subtly, on their own. The speed scale, which Eyeball hadn't been paying attention to, was reading in slowly cycling numbers between the high 200s and the low 300s. He knew it had been over 3000 during part of his own set... but not just how high it had made it. In theory, the fastest ships could go over 10,000 times lightspeed... in safe, pre-cleared areas where constant work ensured lanes of true vacuum. Even the smallest particle striking the ship at those speeds would be instantly fatal.

Jason shuffled through his belt, opening a pouch, and sliding free a ration bar. "Mm. Do we have any of those Huory sticks? I'm actually liking those." He started taking short bites out of it; he didn't seem to be all that hungry, at present, but he knew it had been some time since he'd last eaten..

The machine gestured at the screen. The stars displayed on it were suddenly replaced with an inventory list; including weapons, armor suits, rations, spare parts, corpses, and... the four living prisoners. "We have sufficient frozen Huory sticks to last you a fair time, yes, as well as all of your original ration bars that remained, and the dehydrated powders that provide sufficient minerals to keep you healthy. In theory, we could coast along in deep space for over a year without significant issues. The other crew, we could keep alive for over seven years; your food and theirs is not mutually compatible. Even a little iron in a Marrick dietary supplement would be highly toxic, while you, of course, need it."

He sighed. "Alright, that's good. So. You said something about the Republic retrieving the neutronium? From inside a star?"

Another gesture. A map appeared of a star system... but not one Jason was familiar with. This one contained a single bright blue star; with hundreds of dots surrounding it. "The primary source of Neutronium in the republic is a series of devices which harvest it from extremely high-density stars; Neutron stars. These devices are extremely maintenance and energy intensive, and produce only incredibly tiny amounts; but this is still enough to supply the tiny amount needed for a... warp core."

The machine turned to Jason. "I must emphasize that I am not referring to a giant glowing blue cylinder of mythical, magical, dilithium crystals, but rather a small, densely packed orb containing a carefully harvested and shaped hollow neutronium bead, enclosing as close to a vacuum as the Republic can manage. This scout-ship's 'Warp Core' is the size of your helmet, and embedded inside the reactor to maximize power transmission efficiency. It is the single most durable object on the ship, ejecting it does not act as an explosive device, and would require permanently crippling the ship and causing it massive damage to no outside benefit."

Jason looked at the machine for a moment, and chuckled softly. "I take it you object to my converting the translation to 'warp drive'?"

"I do not wish you to draw any inappropriate analogies. Still. Based on their existing method of harvesting neutronium, they can definitely retrieve the skull from the star. It will not be a trivial matter; but well within their technical capability. If they were willing to sacrifice all habitable moons in the system, they could conceivably directly pull some of said neutronium-harvesting equipment here, strip away the star's corona, and retrieve the skull within the next nine months. Manufacturing spares rather than moving existing equipment would only delay this by another four to five months, while using a safer method, leaving the star mostly intact, would take two years of constantly pushing the skull into higher orbits."

"...So we need to be ready to take it in nine months. Any other useful information as far as that system goes?"

A momentary flicker. The image shifted. "I extensively hacked a variety of local systems during our time on Paradise; but remote control of equipment is extremely limited. The powered armor suits, for example, are designed to prevent any outside control; even each limb is dependent on a command from that limb itself. There are no remotely opening airlocks, and each weapon is hard-wired to two control stations inside it's ship; and capable of being fired, if it does not require power, such as a missile launcher, with an actual physical trigger pull. Republic ships can be blinded and confused via hacking, but not controlled; and are capable of extremely limited functions even with no power whatsoever."

Jason nodded. "I figured as much from what I saw of the 8AD. These guys must have fought someone who heavily used EMPs in the past, or hacking. Or both. There's a backup EMP in here so that they can disable an enemy while they're disabled themselves, right?"

"Precisely. Inside a faraday cage in the reactor room; it can be withdrawn manually and triggered to disable nearby enemies. Someone who disabled a Republic ship via EMP and attempted to capture it may well find their own vessel disabled in turn."

"So... what did you get?"

Ascension focused on the Paradise prison; and zoomed in on the medical bay. "I constructed a drone out of the six prosthetic limbs in the medical bay, and altered records of their inventory. These were designed to be remotely disabled and controlled. Your own artificial limb was from a ground-based hospital; but included lockout mechanisms to restrict it's grip strength and shut it off. Those in the prison were able to be remotely controlled; though they only had three built-in commands. Go limp, lock wearer to closest grip, and to shock the wearer."

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An image appeared of a twisted metallic spider-like structure on a central orb-like body; each of its six limbs appearing to be a false six-fingered machine limb. "This drone then joined the next load of trash en route to be melted down and recycled. When we left the system, it was in an orbital junkyard filled with trash and debris... which had not been processed in over a decade."

An image appeared of... a giant irregular mass of... metal. Glass. Random debris. There even seemed to be a few corpses. "Gravitic emitters are used to redirect trash and debris here, where it is allowed to accumulate for years; then melted down. Useful materials are extracted, and the rest is dumped into the star. The Marrick apparently have one or more such 'space landfills' in each of their systems. The drone will hijack the smelting and gravity emitting tools, build a fabricator and additional drones; and attempt to spread in the system, if possible. If detected, it will trigger the smelting system, do destroy itself and all evidence; but if not... it may provide useful backup for further incursions."

Jason whistled softly. "Creepy, but useful. Alright. What's the situation in the nearest systems? Are we close to the border?"

A new starmap appeared; a top-down view of a few dozen stars; showing the 8AD in the center as a moving green dot. "We have traveled over five light-years, and are on the Republic's borders. The two closest systems are both, in theory, contested, Swarm planets under active Purge protocols."

One of them zoomed in; showing a series of ten worlds around a star; two gas giants, a variety of smaller, rocky worlds; and a dozen Republic starships in orbit of a planet. "This system once belonged to a tier-three species known as the Jernal. Vaguely humanoid, tall, slim, and extremely deadly combatants. Reflexes akin to a low-grade speedster, long, flexible limbs; while relatively primitive, they still caused significant disruption to Republic ground operations. After a few failed ground assaults, the Republic simply started bombarding the world from orbit. For years now, the planet has been bombarded constantly by rocks and debris; it is currently undergoing dramatic tectonic shifts, and a winter that will last for thousands of years to come. While there is likely no surviving life, the Jernal might be a threat if given modern technology; as such, they are ensuring none are allowed to be rescued."

"...Well, fuck. That's depressing. Anything we can do to the bombarding ships?"

"We do not yet have any weapons capable of damaging the cruisers participating in debris redirection, but could take out the lighter vessels in the system."

Jason nodded. "And the other system?"

A different starmap popped up; showing a bright yellow star with four worlds orbiting it; and a space-station in orbit of the third. A single larger ship was in orbit, with smaller ones entering and leaving the system, as well as transiting between orbit and the station.

"A Tier-Four species of six-limbed insectoids whom the Republic simply dubs "Swarm species 10973". They are intelligent, roughly equivalent to industrial-era humans in technology, but with a reproductive system that left them uniquely vulnerable; they enter a helpless chrysalis state during the transition from child to adult, and from adult to... well. Unlike the Jernal, they were a peaceful species; only the third of their three life-stages are capable of significant violence, and this third stage only emerges at specific, pre-determined intervals."

"...Determined how?" The first image showed a dull brown, ugly, fat slug-like creature with four short, stumpy legs and two equally stump-like arms. The second, a beautiful blue and green gem-like creature, sleek and with dozens of pink wings running down its back. And the third... the same blue and green, but with vicious-looking blades, claws, and a spiked back. "I would think an alien invasion would be enough."

"It was. Once every few hundred years, a nearby planet draws close enough to cause a significant tidal change. During that time, all wildlife on their world becomes dramatically more aggressive, and some appear that remain dormant until then. All adults, apparently, make the change when this is about to happen; allowing them to defend the young until it's over. Fast reflexes, exceptional strength, extremely durable, and an internal biochemistry that runs so hot they can spit balls of burning saliva. But.... they burn fast, and die off after less than a year. The arrival of the Marrick triggered this change prematurely with their invasion... and the Marrick withdrew after researching the problem and taking moderate initial casualties. All of the adults of the species converted... and died, trapped on the planet while the Marrick watched from orbit, shooting down anything they built to strike orbit. Now, only the children remain. Slow, simple, not too bright or fast... the Marrick are harvesting them for food whenever they enter a cocoon to become adults. It takes about fifty years for them to fully mature; so at this rate, they'll be extinct in twenty, leaving the planet free for the Marrick to inhabit, if they want. There are soldiers here, a single heavy cruiser, and a variety of warships... and a business in an orbital facility selling alien meat and clothing made from the silky threads of their cocoons."

Jason shook his head. "And probably selling them at a premium. After all... this is a once in a lifetime chance. If you don't buy a nice caterpillar-skin jacket now, there will never be one again. Anything we can do here?"

"Negative. That cruiser's ability to reflect damage with its shields is beyond our current weapon's capabilities."

"...Huh. They don't always have shields up, though, do they?"

Ascension's machine turned to face Jason again. "True. But they do at any time they detect a threat in the system."

Jason pulled to his feet, staring at the display. "...How long would it take us to make this ship look enough like a civilian trader to fool their sensors until we docked... and could point a gun at that cruiser from point-blank range? Would it even be possible?"

Abruptly, an image of the 8AD's long, sleek form appeared; and diagrams of adjustments, of the front of the ship being dismantled and pulled back, of the ship becoming more box-like. "Only Republic navy vessels are allowed to use the teal paint color. There is a light cargo ship not too dissimilar in mass from a Scoutship. It would take nine hours and twelve minutes to convert it into what seemed to be a damaged but functional Oroth-class light cargo ship. We would need to make it appear as if our cargo bay had been mostly destroyed, or as if we were there to take on cargo; even the lightest cargo vessel outmasses a scout heavily when fully loaded."

Jason studied the schematics. They looked... a bit absurd. The hull plating, the walls, floor, decks... most of it was removed, leaving the barest skeleton of a ship, with a squared-off frame outside it. The only areas still containing atmosphere would be a tiny crew-quarters section, including his bridge, and a long tube of a docking shaft heading to a forward airlock. "...No gunports. How do we shoot the particle cannons?"

"The hull would open, allowing it to fire. Note that this design would be very much a 'glass cannon'; while exposed and capable of firing, the ship would be extremely vulnerable. If you did not take out the cruiser in a single shot, you would immediately be slain."

"Do it. I'm gonna get some sleep. Lets go give these guys a really goddamn bad day."