Lemela
Returning to her body was only a matter of closing her eyes and being willing, so once Ethan had explained that to her she was able to transition without issues.
She felt a dull ache all throughout her body spreading from the back of her head as she recovered.
It felt like an electrical current was also passing through her body, and the strangest part was that it didn’t hurt, it felt normal; almost natural.
She blinked a few times, still wondering if she was in the right world, and tried to move; her limbs responded, but weren’t like she remembered.
Lemela was strong like any natural-born predator, and she was proud of it, but bending metal with her bare paws wasn't one of her skills.
Her fur had a metallic sheen to it now, and as she concentrated on it, it altered and solidified into armor to protect her body.
Her claws were now solid metal, and she was able to emit the same red glow as the bottom feeders from both her arms.
This crimson light could become solid and used as a tool or a weapon, taking any shape she wished and even entirely covering her claws, causing them to cut practically anything or expand beyond their natural reach.
The reality of her situation hit her like a wounded prey animal, and she felt all of her fear and worry at once.
Ethan gave her the support he could, but he gave her what she needed the most: space and time to unwind a little.
Thankfully the once-human had managed to find a source of meat, and she could still eat, even if recharging in a metal coffin became a necessity.
Despite her newfound abilities, she was feeling weak and vulnerable; she had flashbacks about how she froze like prey when she was in danger.
Lemela cursed her lack of training with weapons, maybe if she knew a little bit more she would have fought for her crew.
She couldn’t sleep, not really, if she wasn’t in the illusion of her former home she was persecuted by the nightmares of what had happened to her.
She remembered the Xalaxion and its design with atmospheric re-entry in mind, its big cargo bay located in the middle of the ship that covered all of its length, and most of its space.
The Xalaxion was, after all, a light freighter: a merchant vessel with little to no armament and it fell right into the hands of the infamous Dexton’s Dogs.
She remembered most of all her crew, her friends.
There was a muscular Krynnak named Vork, the ship's engineer, and the captain, a tall, thin Nyrax named Tyron.
She acted as the navigation officer of the Xalaxion, she still saw the emergency lights of the circular bridge, tinging the panoramic view of space with red.
She also remembered things she wanted to forget with all her might and she felt struck by guilt and fear.
Several standard days had passed already, but she couldn't shake this out of her system.
Ethan had left her full access to the area, leaving her a warning of having to remain within a certain radius, not that she was eager to leave.
She was glad to see some old equipment and Ethan was apparently trying to gather some more functioning one.
Genetic splicing, Cybernetics, there were all sorts of stuff, even some that she recognized as star maps and plain old computers.
The info on them was outdated and hardly relevant but could lift her mind from her situation.
Among the things that reminded her of the situations she was in was this thing she could perceive just at the outskirt of her view.
It was an interface, she had seen those in the monitors of the ship thousands of times, the kind a computer of some kind produced.
Now that interface was produced inside her head and told her how much battery she had, the local time, and how far Ethan was from her.
This was meant as a warning of some kind, apparently if she was to get too far she would stop functioning.
It wasn’t something she wanted to test, but the mere idea of leaving triggered another panic attack.
Ethan entered the dormitory room while she was having said attack, took a deep breath, and looked at her.
This wasn’t a coincidence, somehow the human knew when she was at her lowest and came looking for her.
At least the abomination that was his face seemed to point in her general direction.
Lemela could thank the goddess of the hunt that she still had her features intact rather than having them hidden behind a plain metal surface with only four bright lights to indicate the presence of eyes.
Maybe if she saw the human's eyes and where they pointed she could shake the feeling he was looking at her pathetic form, at her paws shaking.
The human sighed, rising his still biological arm to massage the area of his neck and disappearing behind the metal plate that hid his features.
-Lemela, I... I understand how difficult it is to speak. Given what occurred. Regarding these matters. Just know that I'm here to support you. You do not have to go through this alone yourself.-
Lemela looked at him with a mixture of confusion and fear.
She had heard the legends of humans' ability to understand others’ feelings through their ability to pack bond and had the distinct impression the human already knew what she was feeling; still, she denied it.
-What are you talking about, Ethan?-
Ethan
“Query=Activate emotional inhibition protocol for drone Lemela”
I mentally deny Virgil’s request for the nth time, I tried to explain to the machine why I won’t do it still it prompts me with the option.
I admit this would be easier, I know what she is going through since I can literally re-live her memories, feel what she felt.
The only issue is that this protocol is a temporary fix at best, it can’t run indefinitely lest it damages the host.
Even if I didn’t have the ability Virgil’s existence allows me I can tell the symptoms of PSTD when I see them.
I saw them on my companions, I fought them myself.
-Eh, it's nothing- I try to play it cool. -I just know that sometimes, things can get to you, especially when you've been through what we have. I'm just saying that I'm here for you, no matter what.-
Cheesy, if my wife were to listen to this she would be staring me daggers. The reality is that she is long lost to the stream of time, along with my children and the rest of my life.
Focus Ethan, she’s looking at you.
Lemela nods slowly.
-Thank you, Ethan. I appreciate it. I'll keep that in mind.-
Again, she rejects my stretched hand, but I know how this works, I just can’t force her to open up to me.
-Good. Again, Just remember, if you ever need to talk or anything, I'm here for you. -
I walk away, making sure to keep an eye on Lemela, she does still put out a brave appearance, so well that’s that.
I can't help but feel nervous; I know she needs professional assistance, and I am far from qualified.
The only thing is that I have to attempt it anyhow since, well, I don't think I'll be able to locate an extraterrestrial therapist anytime soon.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
I'm also concerned about how she'll respond once she knows I can see her memories and feelings.
I feel far from adequate, Lemela at least seems able to use some of the technology here, what about me? If it wasn’t for Virgil I would be totally useless.
I have used this time to explore and gather materials for my next move, but I desperately need Lemela for diplomacy.
My drones can’t really talk and when I tried to approach someone in the tunnels they ran like they had seen the devil himself.
It was this green thing shaped like a giant daddy long leg except I believe four of its limbs were actually arms, but I didn’t manage to see it all.
The other issue I have is that we need more weapons, enough to arm all the zombie drones.
I mean this hard light technology is very useful and helps a lot but it’s close range and drains the batteries when used for a long period, so not really practical.
I fear that we will need them soon because let’s say I took a refill of zombie drones.
My scouting party stumbled upon a group of aliens, each with their own unique features and equipment that came down to perform a body dump of sorts.
They seemed to know what they were doing they were coordinated and precise, and they basically proceeded down to an abandoned factory area.
They carried a cargo of bodies all neatly set in what appeared to be floating capsules.
The aliens were a strange assortment of creatures, each with their own unique physiology and strange, almost otherworldly appearance.
Some were tall and slim, humanoid with lengthened limbs and skin that looked to glow with some sort of inner light.
They reminded me of the Simpsons episode when Mr. Burns is mistaken for an alien, though the light was blue rather than green.
Virgil calls those Li’thirwisz, a race of sentient beings that apparently evolved in a world where there’s always night and it speaks about something called bioluminescence.
Others were squat and muscular, their bodies covered in hard, chitinous armor and resembling dung beetles, if beetles could move upright I mean.
Virgil called them Nolthorans, a species coming from a desert world that acted like the muscle in the group.
I called them dung beetles, but they don’t move like them, they use their two arms to lift and move on four legs, so the opposite of what a dung beetle would with a load.
And then there was this single Krynnak, a slender crocodile-like creature with four stout arms four stout legs, and a mean look that seemed to be the leader of the group.
Despite their differences, the aliens all seemed to be working in unison like a well-oiled machine, their movements coordinated and purposeful.
As the alien delivery crew proceeded to unload their shipment of bodies, I observed them activate the machines and learned their function.
Virgil dubbed it a meat reprocessing plant, and it reprocessed the cadaver into a pile of black cubes of paste-like substance.
One of the aliens actually ate the stuff and said something about it having the taste of cattle or something along the lines, I don’t want to remember it.
Let's just say that following that scene I got a tiny bit emotional, I summoned all of the available zombie drones and I descended on them with a vengeance.
The aliens were caught off guard plainly not anticipating a surprise attack, especially by unarmed Ganfi it appeared, but still they fought back.
The drones moved efficiently and with dexterity, their two prehensile tails extending out to ensnare the aliens and their clawed arms slicing through the air, leaving deep gashes in their victims.
The red lights I shaped as swords remind me of Sith fighting, but a little less elegantly effective since my drones didn't have real light sabers.
The aliens retaliated by shooting their weapons basically in all directions, but the drones were able to foresee the majority of their motions.
Virgil's calculating power and prediction protocols are nothing to scoff at.
One of the aliens managed to avoid a blade and fire a shot right into one of the drones' torsos, forcing it to relent and collapse to the ground.
Let's say it didn't simply lay there, but it also killed one unlucky soul who got too close as the reanimation protocols kicked in.
The Krynnak charged and managed to get past the drones attempting to flee, but I had already arrived at the conflict despite Virgil's protests.
I produced a net of resilient red light, snagged the Krynnak, and pulled it back to the ground, quickly bringing the overgrown lizard down for the count.
As the combat progressed, the drones proved to be practically unbeatable, yeah I mean these things are clearly designed with war in mind.
Despite being injured, burned, and even losing a limb or two, they seemed to feel no pain and were unwavering in their pursuit of the aliens following their orders.
The aliens, on the other hand, were plainly shaken by the ferocity of the drone strike and by the realization their weapons were useless.
They fell to the ground one by one, their bodies pierced by swords or entangled by shining nets of light.
I feel that if we had access to weapons the confrontation would have been even more one-sided.
Luckily in all of this Lemela was recharging in her pod and wasn’t aware of anything, but like I said, I will need to bring her up to speed, I will need her with the prisoners.
Virgil states I can simply assimilate the living aliens to extract their knowledge, but considering the result with Lemela I am not so sure I want potentially hostile people.
I know they will be on a technical leash by Virgil, but still, I would prefer to have a cooperating space if I can.
I am still tempted to kill all the dumpsters outright; I mean the bodies I didn’t drop had signs of torture on them and thinking about it still makes what’s left of my blood boil.
Well, I think I can feel satisfied, I mean, now I got myself 35 new zombie drones of various alien make and models so to speak, and three prisoners to interrogate.
Virgil strangely agreed to keep one alive per species, I wanted a little more but well, they resisted a little too well.
All in all, they had the feel of contractors to me, so once their bosses won’t receive the food they paid for I presume they will send others to investigate.
I need to be ready for them, in the meantime, I start the process to activate more zombie drones and recover the weapons and equipment they had.
I will need to repair my drones as well, but I can leave the task to Virgil, I don’t really feel comfortable doing that stuff.
Virgil
Ethan was still a mystery.
He was maybe the living embodiment of the issues that arose when contacting a pre-FTL specie, according to the database Virgil possessed.
Rather than using a pre-approved method, he seemed all too eager to impose his ideas and morals on the situation.
Still, he produced results, so Virgil couldn't really complain since it could find reasons in Ethan's action pattern.
Lemela’s erratic emotional patterns could be suppressed temporarily, but a long suppression would damage her biological construct introducing artificial errors in her program's structure, bringing instability and potentially unwanted alterations to the original behavior.
Ethan's decision not to use the protocol was rational, but Virgil couldn't understand why he insisted on not using the protocol to appease her, even if only briefly when he tried to speak to her.
The approach would calm her down, eliminating the emotional response and allowing for a rational answer to speed up the process, but Ethan insisted that speaking when she felt it was appropriate was the best option.
Speaking appeared to be a key purpose of biological things; it was less than ideal because a wired dialogue would be faster, but it put Ethan and Lemela at ease.
While dictated by emotions, the military action Ethan had delivered against the biological entities was a crippling blow to a potential supply line of food.
Virgil felt neutral about killing unrelated biological entities; while it brought a workforce for the hive, in the end, it wasn’t as interesting as obtaining their inner biological construct.
Ethan was however reluctant to do just that, even with the assurance they couldn't possibly rebel against him.
Still, the encounter had some positive outcomes, Ethan had been reluctant to accept the idea of having new chips implanted into him but now had agreed to the upgrade operation.
Also, there was a good probability assessment that biological would come to them to get their food source back and this would mean more occasions to get other different constructs.
This was a very positive development indeed.
Virgil would have higher processing power by then, both for the collective simulation as well as other operations.
Maybe Ethan would also have accepted his role as the overmind, the controlling construct in charge of giving orders.
The only thing Virgil couldn’t really parse was why Ethan wished for Lemela to have the instruction on how to requisition and install the upgrades on him.
It wasn’t really that Virgil couldn't understand, it could read the desire to establish a bond in the human construct.
The matter was that a bond already existed, one that couldn't be destroyed or defied, why establish others?
Dexton
In the dim light of the space station conference room, Dexton's cybernetic implanted right eye burned red, he loved to listen to his underlings like that, it made him a more intimidating presence.
He had made a stand for himself with a steel throne with a couple of braziers for visual impact more than anything else.
Dexton was looking down on Taboo while standing beside the throne, from his perspective the thing served more to intimidate a delegation that to work with his mutts like now.
His still biological eye sparkled an icy blue as it caught the artificial light while he turned on the unlucky lieutenant that came to him to bring news of an unexpected failure.
Dexton stood 6'3" tall and muscular, with broad shoulders, a robust physique, and a sculpted jawline.
He had short, dark hair with a short-cropped beard that covered every inch of his face and was crossed by a jagged scar that ran over his left cheek and down to his neck; the reminder of a botched smuggling operation.
His left hand was a cybernetic replacement as well, with retractable claws that he frequently employed as a threat in conversations like this one.
He made the claws purposefully clatter as he looked straight at the quivering Zeruth in front of him.
-Sooo, you basically came to disturb meee just to report a small failureee?-
He spoke in a low, rumbling tone, with a drawl that he faked to provide some more intimidation.
-Si..sir… I … I’ m sorry … We lost contact with the expedition to the meat processor in city 29, sector G-52 sub-level six, sir-
He sighed as the translator patched through the chattering of the mantis-like alien.
He hated those bug-like beings with a passion, why the universe had decided to pull out so much of them?
-I HEARD YOU THE FIRST TIME, YOU MUTT! -
He shouted back to the creature faking to have snapped at his underling, he pointed at him with his claw speaking as he made a slow crushing motion.
– I ain’t asking you to whine to me like the scared puppy you are!! Either find another source to feed off the slaves or go hunt whatever wiped out those incompetent fools in the first place and reclaim the plant! The only thing I ask out of you is results! You are a fucking space pirate! You are a ferocious hunting dog! Don’t you dare to approach me with such nonsense again!-
Dexton approached the Zeruth looking down at the thing as it quivered, he smiled showing his teeth fully knowing that many species found that display a menace to their very life.
-Now, vanish from my sight! Fix this problem, and if I don't hear that all my clients down there are happy and satisfied to pay their quotas, I'll personally convert you into slave meat. Did I make myself clear!?-
The mantis nodded multiple times, before scurrying away as fast as his tiny legs allowed.
Dexton groaned pushed a button under his shirt and said into his communicator with his normal cold tone. -Get me the training officer in charge of city 29-
He wanted to know how well the pack leader who had gone missing had been trained in the first place at least.