In the twenty-three seconds between the projectile impacting the gas giant and the 8AD managing to make a brief jump into warp to outpace the oncoming doom, a tiny, insignificant chunk of metal would fly into the atmosphere of the gas giant. Calling it an impact would be absurd; it was so tiny as to be a single molecule of water against a windshield; not even a droplet.
The moment it struck, however, it suddenly expanded. A strange, intricate shape of glowing red symbols that seemed to expand as it kept flying deeper into the gas giant, soon vanishing. As it disappeared, the gas giant seemed to start to boil; bubbles and storms forming.. and then suddenly... it seemed to pop. One moment, a supremely dense mass of hydrogen and helium, squeezed in by the intense gravity; that just seemed to... let go.
The intense pressure, suddenly released by the tyranny of gravity, burst outward; a wave of gas that spread in every direction like a wave; almost like a miniature supernova. From the rear-facing sensors of the 8AD, it looked as if the planet suddenly started to swell in size, impossibly fast; only to vanish after that first few seconds in warp.
As the ship started to fly into the void, the system dwindling behind them, the impact soon became visible on Forstage; though neither the native Forstagers nor Jernal were paying attention, leaving only Ascension to watch the rapidly expanding ball of gas; one that became less of a hazard with each passing moment. By the time it reached the planet's atmosphere, it just formed a beautiful lightshow; a single dense gas giant changed into an enormous nebula of relatively thin gas, expanding to surround the system like a dim grey halo.
***
While the airlock slid shut, Eyeball focused on the screen; slowly dialing up the warp factor as the area became clearer. Their next destination was over ten light-years away, outside of Republic-controlled space; a place that, in theory, the Republic wouldn't be invading for at least a few more decades. Ascension had indicated a reasonable chance that the particular spot was a hub of anti-Republic activity; the Republic navy believed 'Pirates' operated from there, attempting to slow down the Republic advance by harassing Republic civilian and military vessels; and being paid by the locals to do it.
While most Republic information seemed to be a blend of quasi-religious indoctrination and complete nonsense, at the very least it should serve as a good stopping point before continuing further anti-Republic activity; and hopefully a place to buy some Jernal-compatible food. Or even a map of outside of the Republic, to find a place to drop off the Forstagers.
According to the Republic, it was 'Pirate Hub 73', and the locals were a Tier 2 species of semi-aquatic humanoids that were less than fond of them. It would be nice to see.
As he slowly adjusted the dial up and down; the warp factor climbing up past 1000x once more, he would become focused on the job. Watching his HUD, the damage readouts, the number, the angles; at factor 1000, each hour was almost forty light-days. If he could get to 10,000 without killing them, each hour would be closer to four hundred. The display was incredibly helpful; not just showing that the ship would be damaged, but where it would be damaged. A potentially fatal cloud of dust the size of a planet could be avoided with a twitch of the wrist. The remnants of a centuries-old ambush just as easily.
Eventually, the airlock would slide open; and one of Ascension's drones entered, before sliding it shut; standing against the wall like a statue; undoubtedly as a bodyguard, considering the two Jernal and dozens of Forstagers now aboard. And of course, their two previous prisoners. "When you are ready, I have begun to fill the ship with atmosphere. You have new private quarters, and the bridge has been assembled as well. I would recommend eating, and then getting some rest; I can continue our advance at a more reasonable pace while you sleep, and we can resume this accelerated rate in the morning."
He glanced over at Ascension... then back at the controls. Whichever direction he looked, the HUD still showed his damage warnings. "Put the display on the wall, and bring some food, please. I'll go ahead and eat while I fly us for a while... don't need both hands for either. I can rest once we've got a few light-years behind us."
A few moments later, a holographic projection appeared in the airlock, emanating from the machine; and it extended both arms; one holding a ration bar, the other a small pouch of Huory sticks. Eyeball chuckled at the machine's preparedness; and dialed the speed down into the high hundreds before sliding his helmet off; and continuing to fly as he casually ate, keeping an eye on the display for possible damage.
***
When her quarters finally opened, Charis stared out at the hallway in confusion. She'd be trapped in that tiny space for days, but... she'd been on a scoutship. Had she been released? The hallway smelled faintly of chemical burns, and as she looked at the other doors nearby, the green-skinned engineer, Lert, had stepped out as well. Two of the tall thin metal drones were standing there, watching them, each armed and completely immobile; aside from tracking them with a camera.
Lert blinked, sniffing... and looked around at the hallway. "This... was recently welded." He dropped down, sliding a finger across the floor. "This was an interior hallway of some other ship. Welded in place. They..." He stood back up. "They must have taken out another navy vessel. A bigger one."
Charis looked at the very faintly visible seams in the floor. "So are we back on the scoutship, or did that alien and his machine capture another and drag us along?"
The drone standing beside Charis swiveled a laser-pistol towards her. "You are being allowed to depart your cell for breakfast, and so long as you are not rude, converse with the other prisoner and the passengers. You will be watched at all times. Improper behavior or resistance will result in stunning and being returned to your cell."
Stolen novel; please report.
Charis sighed, and nodded. "Of course. Still a prisoner, just a different jailer. Where do we eat?"
The machine turned away, a low, synthesized voice emerging from both it and the other drone. "Follow." Before it began to march down the hallway; the second drone prodding Lert with the laser-pistol in it's hand when he started to slow down to examine what was clearly an airlock door, made to seal the hallway in event of a breach.
"Moving, moving, got it. Just... this..." As they entered what was clearly the mess hall of a larger navy ship, with dozens of tables, room for over two hundred people... both of them froze in place; only to resume moving with more prodding from the pistols.
A tall, lean, brown-skinned man was against a wall, some sort of strange mechanical contraption attached to the side of it's head; it's pronounced jaw, tiny eyes, and inhuman structure making him clearly a tier-3. It was glaring at them as they entered; only to go back to steadily drinking down some massive bottle of bluish liquid.
Many of the tables around the mess hall, however, were filled with... creatures. Many of them fat, hideous, blobby creatures of greenish brown shades, each with six stumpy fat limbs; but almost as many were taller, leaner, beautiful, gem-like creatures, glistening in a thousand shades of greens, reds, and blues. When the two sat at one of the tables, they could hear the other tables muttering and whispering.
Their translators picked up a few scattered words, here and there; talking about 'the monster' and 'butcher'. Two simple silver trays with some sort of warm paste and some Marrick-standard vegetables were laid out on the table by another drone, before it kept marching away... and after a moment, one of the beautiful insectoids stepped over to their table, looking at Lert. "You don't have to sit there with the Butcher. Monsters like her might scare the children, but you wouldn't. You should join us. It would be good for the kids to see some less hostile aliens."
Lert blinked. The creature's voice was... just as beautiful as it was. It was as if it's mouth were a musical instrument in perfect tune, adorning a body formed from fine gems. It sounded so much more dull out of the translator... "The... butcher? Do you mean the robot?" He glanced back at the guarding machine, as Charis looked on in curiosity.
"Oh, no. That thing." The creature pointed at Charis. "I believe you call them 'Marrick'. Frankly, I don't know how you can stand to sit so close to it. I'd be afraid the savage might decide to take a bite of my arm while it was eating."
Charis frowned. "Excuse me, we are not 'savages'. We are.." The creature interrupted, with a brief, blaring, discordant tone.
"Devourers of children, scavengers, and monsters. If the Seer had not told us you were a prisoner of them yourself, we would treat you like your people treated our own. You will speak when spoken to."
Lert coughed. "Ahem. I'll be just fine here with her. I... might like to talk to you more later though. Your people seem fascinating."
The creature nodded. "Of course. The Seer calls us 'Four-stagers'. Her people simply used numbers to refer to us, but you may call us that as well. My name is.." A long trilling blend of harmonies sounded out. "Dawn of the last winter day. You may refer to me as Winter. Ask the machine for me, and if I'm not busy, I will stop by."
With one last glare at Charis, the creature walked away, joining another of the radiant creatures among the blob-like children at another table. As they were eating, the two were using a holographic emitter to show what were clearly words and symbols in their own language to the children.
Charis glanced at Lert. "You seem to like those things well enough."
He shrugged. "You've got to admit, they seem to be like living, breathing, singing works of art. I think I saw the news reports about a decade or so ago when we were invading their world. They were classed as 'non-sentient class-4 indigenous fauna', and looked... very different. Thinner. Spikier. Still pretty, though. The ones I saw on the vids were absolutely deadly."
She sighed, and started eating one of the seed pods on her tray. "Mmph. Rude, though. I wonder where Jason got them from. Definitely don't know how to respect their superiors. Do you think he hit a transport ship full of slaves, or zoo animals?"
"I don't think they keep tier-4s as slaves, or zoo animals. Usually they just wipe them out. Not sure how they're still around... They were conquered while I was still in training. Should all be gone by now. I'll ask that 'Winter' later. How are you holding up? We might be the only descendants on this ship."
Charis looked Lert over for a moment; he wasn't exactly her type normally, the green skin and four eyes looking terrible in general compared to her own pale beauty; but right now, he was even worse; sweaty. Filthy. And wearing just a tight vaccum suit that emphasized that his body wasn't quite shaped right; like what she knew were her own perfect curves. "I don't know. Possibly. Jason might still possibly be one of us himself, the Founders reach is wider than we know. And that tall, thin, brown one over there might..."
She let out a gasp; as a blade slammed into the table, pinning her tray to it; rocking back in her seat. The creature said something swiftly; and vanished in a blur. She could only hear the words after it left, her translator playing it back almost as an afterthought; ~My kind are no relation to yours, and should you imply such again I will skin your barbarous flesh.~
"....not be related to us at all." There were a variety of capabilities in the various descendants of the founders. Incredible strength, durability, regeneration, resistance to heat and cold. For the most part, the abilities a sub-race had didn't give them a leg up in society; unless they were extreme, useful ones. Someone strong enough to break a starship with their bare hands would get more pay and job offers than his peers in jobs where it mattered, of course. And folks with regeneration....
She sighed, shaking her head as she turned back to her food. Most regenerators didn't really age. They were a tier all their own; immortality was the biggest thing separating the Founders from their descendants, after all.
As she sat there, poking at the food on the tray, a familiar figure entered with his own accompanying drone; and yet, this one clearly not keeping him prisoner, . The familiar figure of Jason entered the room; sat down at the table, setting his helmet down beside him... and staring down at some sort of strange brown lump on his tray. He looked up at the drone. "...How?"
"A processing error by the company that created your ration bars allowed sufficient material to create a potato seedling. This is the first potato grown in Andromeda. I have a modest crop of them. Salt is available, but the locals do not use butter or cheese."
The expressions on the man's face as he cut the potato up, and started trying out different seasonings on what seemed to be a bland white mass inside the brown lump, was ridiculous. He seemed virtually on the verge of tears from whatever it was. "...is it really that good?"
The man stopped... and looked at Charis. "No. Honestly, without seasoning, its almost tasteless. It's just... an actual food from back home." He chuckled, poking it with a fork. "You know, it's funny. This potato is the only living thing in the whole galaxy even vaguely related to me. If I weren't some overcharged immortal with a ridiculously efficient body, this would be a game-changer; a normal human trying to live off of only the local food would have starved to death eventually."