Saccillia awoke in complete darkness, protected from the sounds of endless engine hummings and system whirlings. She groaned as the pod she slept in hissed over, the sound of the lights in her room flickering on above. Sitting up, she was still in complete darkness, or so it seemed to her. With a sigh, she batted her palm against the side of her head.
Her cybernetic eyes came to life, flickering like an old view monitor that hasn’t had proper repairs in a very long time. She blinked twice, preparing herself for what was to come. With her eyes activating, so did the interface installed into her neural cortex, a rudimentary procedure that left only a wire line from her temple to the back of her head. She followed the information that displayed across her vision, an easier way to control the flow of information instead of just allowing it all to pour into her mind, it always gave her a headache.
As the captain of the Purgatory, Saccillia had a 24-hour sleep cycle every two weeks, it kept the cybernetics in her head from overloading and allowed her to unwind. Ships on missions that lasted this long always had to have someone like her on active duty, someone that could control an endless flow of information as well as command the ship proper. Every captain and admiral of the Migrant Fleet had these augmentations, and it has been what kept them alive for this long.
She poured through the information as she began her day. Maintenance reports from the ship crew, sightings from the monitors, Mechanoid repairs from Kojuen and the others in the hangar, but out of all of those, one thing caught her eye.
“URGENT” it said in heavy prompt. “PRISONER IN HOLDING CELL D1-95”
--
Saccillia entered the holding cells, the guards saluting her as she passed. She turned one corner and then to her left to see the other two guards standing across from the cell, their weapons across their shoulders. They too saluted her as she appeared. Captain Saccillia saluted them in return and ordered them to give her room.
A man sat on the bed bunk of the cell, eating ice cream with a wooden spoon.
“You gave him Ice cream?” Saccillia asked the guard.
“He asked for some, ma'am.” The Guard responded.
Saccillia turned her head to the guard again. “And you just gave it to him?”
“He asked nicely, ma'am.”
She looked back at the prisoner, who made eye contact with her, smiled, and waved.
“Keep an eye on him, I need to talk to some people.” She ordered.
“Aye, Ma’am.” The guard saluted.
Saccillia walked through the halls of her ship with purpose, even with the darkened areas of the hall, it was like she could see every inche as clearly as a bright summers day. She was connected to the Purgatory, both figuratively and literally. Captains of the Migrant Fleet were neurally attached to their vessels, much like a Mechanoid pilot is to their machines, but unlike a pilot, captains will remain within their attached vessel for sometimes years at a time.
For many people, this is practically torture, like sailing the stars in a steel coffin. For a captain of the Migrant Fleet, its as natural as breathing. Saccillia was the first one aboard the Purgatory when it was launched from the fleet, and she will be the last one off when it is time.
She could have just called her targets over the intercom, but at the same time she did not want to call anyone out specifically. Mapno and Raijin brought the machine in from the operation, it was the ship doctors that left the man on the medical slab unsupervised, save for a singular Med-Doc on staff.
“There was no brain activity at all.” One of the doctors had said. “It was like a breathing corpse. We didn’t expect him to just get up and start walking around.”
It was a good enough answer, at least to her, no need for reprimands. The next visit was to Kojuen, the Purgatory’s chief Mechanic. He was one of the few people in the system, let alone the Migrant Fleet, that knew how to maintain and repair Mechanoids, like an artificer of ancient machines.
“The armor plating is not on the record at all.” Kojuen explained. “Neither is the material they used to make the muscles. I can’t get a bead on this machine at all.”
“What do you know?” Saccillia asked.
Kojuen pressed several buttons on his data-slab with his claw, sending what information he did know about the machine straight to Saccillia’s neural link. Her eyes trailed along like she was reading a book in front of her.
“Other than that…” Kojuen climbed the machine with the utility ladders he and his team had set up.
The mechanic opened a port on the side of the Varindel’s torso, he wrapped his fingers along a handle and pulled on it hard. The torso hissed and opened with four segmented plates separating, revealing a cockpit inside.
“We found the emergency hatch…” He said, stepping down.
Saccillia climbed the machine and looked inside. She’s seen many Mechanoid cockpits, but this one was unique. It was smooth, missing the information screens and even a neural helmet port. The joysticks and thruster pedals were completely missing. Instead, the cockpit seat had arm wrests with five holes along each arm, as well as a spike at the end of a long cord behind the seat.
She narrowed her eyes and crawled into the cockpit, examining the arm rests first. She slid her hand along the arm rest and pushed her fingers into the holes. There was a jolt, Saccillia withdrew her hand. She turned her head and then examined the spike at the end of the cord, poking the sharp end against her thumb.
“Strange…” She commented before stepping out.
“No view screens, no info huds. Just those slots on the arm rest and that spike.” Kojuen explained.
“Any ideas?” Saccillia asked.
“You have the medical reports on hand for the pilot, right?”
“Of course.” She nodded.
“Well, looking at it, this guy has a port between his shoulder blades, its installed into his spine right under the neck. That’s probably what that spike is for, some kind of archaic neural link.”
He says “Archaic” like what the Purgatory has is top-of-the-line.
“He might not need view ports, I have a feeling he sees what his machine sees.” Kojuen summarized.
“That’s…” Saccillia rubbed her chin. “I need to have a talk with our new friend.
“Aye, Captain.” Kojuen smiled and waved her off. “Good luck.”
--
Saccillia stood in front of the bars of the holding cell. The prisoner was looking at the ground until she appeared, looking up at her with an alarming quickness.
“Okay, I have questions.” She started. “Who are you?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know your name?” She asked.
“No.” He shook his head.
“Where are you from?” She continued.
“I don’t know.” He shook his head again.
“Do you know anything about yourself?” Saccillia asked. “I find it hard to believe some pilot just ended up in a machine like that. Especially with that thing in your spine.”
The man’s eyes looked around, deep in thought.
“I’m from the Terran Union.” He explained. “I know that much. I don’t know what planet, but I know I was part of the Terran Navy.”
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Saccillia tilted her head, her brow furrowed. “Terran Union?”
“What about you guys?” The man asked. “I don’t recognize your unit. Are you Jupiterean? Alpha Centurii? Or is this a ship from one of the outer colonies.”
“I…” Saccillia looked at the guard, he looked just as concerned as she did. “We’re not from the Terran Union. No one has heard from the Terran Union in…”
“In…?” The man looked curious. “Are you guys in the dark? How long has it been?”
“No one remembers.” She shook her head. “Way before anyone here was born. Centuries? Millennia? We don’t know.”
“Centuries!?” He leaned forward. “No. No that can’t be! We started Operations just the other day against that...Thing. What sector are we even in?”
“This is the Seraph Sector.” Saccillia explained. “If that name even has any meaning to you.”
“Seraph?” The man looked even more confused than he was before. “...No, I haven’t.”
“The Jump Gate connecting us to Terra went dark during the Long War. When the Long War even was we can’t tell you.”
“What planet are you from?” The man asked. “Are you guys a PDF? Some kind of sector patrol?”
“We—” She paused, like she was contemplating if she should even tell him anything. “We’re from the Migrant Fleet, we’re Gaians-- or used to be. That’s all you need to know.”
“Migra- I don’t get any of this.” He stood up, the guard readied his rifle but Saccillia waved him down.
“We’re going to keep you here for the time being. Until we can get a proper ID on you. I hope you don’t take offense to our precautions.”
Before the man could speak, protest or otherwise, Saccillia’s comm until beeped, she put up a finger to the prisoner and then pressed that same finger against her temple.
“I’m here.” She announced.
“We have a problem, Captain.” A bridge officer spoke.
--
“What’s the situation?” Saccillia asked as soon as she entered the Bridge.
It was a small station, with only eight bridge crew at a time, each one had a vital job from navigation, steering, weapons, shields, and energy output and the like. The Purgatory was a small vessel for stealth operations, not a warship.
“A Mechanoid just jumped into the system.” The Bridgeman known only as W explained, save for his bionic eye he was completely human and wore the navy blue uniform of the Migrant Fleet. “Heimdall Class. It’s a Vanir, Ma’am.”
Saccillia watched the monitors along her bridge, the starry void outside of the main port did little to help her with the information she needed. It was indeed a Heimdall, a jump-capable Mechanoid, It’s one of the Mechanoids the Vanir still know how to manufacture in one of their three factories.
From the information she could see, this one was equipped with heavy weaponry for anti-ship combat, further weighed down by larger boosters to clear the gap between themselves and their target.
“Attention: Void-born scum of the Migrant vermin.” A deep, booming voice spoke over open channels. “You look upon Dag: Battle-Thane of the Vanir Star Empire. You have something we want, and you will give it to us.”
Saccillia narrowed her eyes, he was talking about their “Guest”.
“You had slain one of my Kinsmen on Nouva Havana while you stole our prize. I have emerged the victor in the holmgang and demanded the rights to see to your deaths personally.”
“That’s considerate…” W muttered.
“Surrender your cargo, and I promise you a quick death.” Dag announced.
“How long until our jump drive is charged?” Saccillia asked.
“Its in the refueling and cooling process now, Ma’am.” W explained. “Five minutes at best.”
Saccillia grimaced. “Prepare the point defenses and put everyone on red alert.”
“Aye, Ma’am.”
--
“Now hear this, now hear this.” A voice announced over intercom. “Red Alert, I repeat, Red Alert.”
The prisoner looked up as the lights above him turned a bright, foreboding red. He stood up from his bunk and approached the bars. The guard looked at him, shook his head, and then ran off to take some other kind of position.
“Unite them.” A voice in his head ordered.
“What…?” The man put a hand on his head.
“Join them. Unite them. Set them free.”
“Set them free…” The man repeated before pushing himself against the bars.
“Hey! Come back! Let me out!” He cried. “I can help you!”
--
Saccillia sat in the captain’s chair, thumb and finger against her chin. The Purgatory was not made for combat, the point defense systems were for shooting down missiles and pursuing Armored Combat Units. But this was a Mechanoid, even if it was a cheap knock off of the Terran Union built Mechanoids, it was still piloted by a Vanir, a super human warrior with reflexes and strength beyond even the cyborg and gene-warriors of the Migrant Fleet. If she could position the Purgatory right, they might be able to keep the Heimdall at range with moderate losses. It was gaining on them, and would be on them in less than a minute.
But as she planned, a Bidgewoman turned to her.
“Captain!” She said. “The Mulligan is leaving its hangar!”
“Mulligan?” She repeated.
Saccillia turned on a view screen to the pilot seat of the Mulligan, the pilot inside was wearing a custom colored gray patterned pilot suit, the helmet attached with a re-breather and sealed for space combat.
“Pilot Mapno, what are you doing!?” Saccilia asked.
“Captain.” He spoke. “Requesting permission to engage.”
“I don’t do suicide missions, Mapno.” She countered.
“Its a Heimdall with most of its armor and regular weaponry stripped for anti-ship combat and forward speed. Its performance is handicapped, it won’t expect another Mechanoid if we’re on an escape vector.”
Saccillia glared at her view screen.
“Pilot Mapno. Do you believe in your ability to engage the enemy under these parameters and return before we jump?” She asked.
“Yes Ma’am, I do.” Said Mapno.
She remained silent for another moment.
“Permission granted.”
The launch catapult came alive as it fired the Mulligan into the void of space. Like a blue thunderbolt, the Mulligan blasted forward armed with a ballistic shield and a plasma rifle. Mapno intercepted the Heimdall straight on and raised his weapon, firing a splash of magnetized plasma towards the machine. The Heimdall banked and used its side thrusters to push itself out of the way of the extreme heat.
“Inferior worm!” Dag cried over open channels, raising his shoulder mounted cannon and firing.
A particle lance barreled towards Mapno, he pushed his foot thrusters forward and changed directions, launching the Mulligan backwards and away from the enemy fire. If he had been on a planet, with atmosphere and gravitational weight, the dodge would still have bubbled the armor plating across his Mechanoid. But here in space, he gained enough distance from the attack to forgo damage completely.
In atmosphere, either in air or the ground, and even with the enemy disadvantage, Mapno would be hard pressed to kill a Vanir pilot without the use of his combat stims. But here in space, Mapno reigned supreme.
He aimed his plasma rifle and fired three more shots, aiming directly at Dag with each one. He watched the pattern, the Vanir pilot would bang and dip with each shot, it gave Mapno an idea of how Dag pilots his machine.
“You can’t hit me, void born!” Dag taunted. “I’ll kill you, and then present your machine to the fleet!”
He fired three more times, only stopping to dodge another particle lance from the Heimdall’s weaponry. Then again, fired three, and again, dodge, fire, dodge, repeat. The next time, Mapno only fired twice. He aimed directly at the Heimdall and fired, watching it again bank to the left. He aimed his second shot, but at the last second, changed trajectory of his aim, and then fired.
Instinctively, Dag banked to the right, and directly into the plasma fire. Mapno heard the scream on open channel as the shot melted the head of the enemy Mechanoid, corroding armor plating and dripping melted slag into the cockpit within the chest piece. The Heimdall could no longer see, and Dag was struggling not to be burned by the rapidly cooling slag melting into his cock pit from above.
He fired wildly in Mapno’s direction. Mulligan charged forwards towards it’s prey, spiraling and twisting around the haphazardly fired particle lances. He approached, turning miles into yards, and then meters before finally pressing his rifle against the chest plate of the Heimdall.
“I’ll see you in hell…” He muttered on open channel before pulling the trigger.
Dag couldn’t even scream as the plasma entered his cockpit and exited through the back thrusters. The Vanir pilot exploded into a blue-drenched splatter of gore before his flesh welded against the inside of the machine.
“Mapno to Purgatory.” He announced on the secure line, the remains of the Heimdall now drifting lifelessly in front of him. “Returning to ship.”
“Enemy ships jumping into the sector, Ma’am!” A bridgeman announced.
“Mapno, get back here!” Saccillia ordered.
Mapno adjusted his sensors, a Vanir war fleet entered real space close enough that the naked eye could see them. He grabbed the Heimdall by the collar of the machine and thrustered back towards the Purgatory.
He flipped the switches and pressed the buttons, leaving just enough power to his manipulators to hold on to the Heindall as his thrusters went into over drive.
“Jump drive primed, Captain!” W announced.
“Mapno, we are leaving!” She shouted over her comm unit.
Mapno gritted his teeth, the pressure on his body was immense, his vision darkened around the sides and blood ran from his nose.
“Emergency jump ready, Captain!” A bridgeman announced.
The Purgatory changed direction, the Vanir fleet fired volley after volley of missiles. Hundreds, thousands of them barreled towards the Purgatory, more than the point defense could handle.
“Go!” Mapno shouted.
The Mulligan crashed into the landing bay of the Purgatory, sliding across the steel floor with vicious sparks before smashing into the crash pads in the back. As soon as he entered the ship, the Purgatory was enveloped in a light, leaving a smooth after image as it jumped out of system. Hundreds of missiles flew off into space with no target to hit.
--
The jump went better than expected. Mapno managed to get out of the Mulligan, remove his helmet, and find a bucket before vomiting out his lunch. Raijin stood with Kojuen in the Hangar, looking at the slagged Mechanoid in front of them. The head was melted away completely, and the cockpit was pried open, revealing a mess of blue gore and cooked meat.
“Eugh.” Raijin winced. “I’d rather he used the pile bunker…”
“I’ll get a hose…” Kojuen grumbled, walking off to get his work crew.
Saccillia sat in the captain’s chair, rubbing her forehead firmly, keeping her eyes closed. Her comm beeped and she pressed it on.
“I’m listening…” She said.
“Captain. The prisoner wants to to talk to you.”
“Tell him to wait…”
“He wants to make you an offer, Ma’am.”
Saccillia opened her eyes, inhaled deeply, and then shrugged. “Alright, bring him here. Two guards.”
The prisoner entered the bridge a few minutes later, tailed by two guards wearing exo-suits to enhance their strength. He smiled awkwardly and gave her a half-wave.
“What can I do for you…?” She asked.
“I want to join your army...N-navy. Whatever this is.”
“Really now?” Saccillia sat up.
“I’m a great pilot, I can help out.” He suggested.
“I don’t doubt that you are.” Said Saccillia. “But How can we trust you?”
“I guess...How can I earn that trust?” He asked.
“Look, I don’t know.” She sighed. “Right now we need to get back to the fleet. Everyone is moving now, Vanir or otherwise. Its not a war of conquest either, they’re looking for something. At first we thought it was just you, but they’re still moving in one direction…”
The prisoner looked at the star chart in the center of the bridge. He noticed the lines from three different directions, three different empires were going somewhere, and he thought about it.
“Gibraltar…” The voice in his head spoke.
“Gibraltar?” The prisoner said. “The place in Spain?”
“Gibraltar?” Saccillia asked.
She looked at the star chart and typed in some coordinates on pad. She put her hand on her hip and looked at the trajectory of the moving forces and the planet.
“You...Might be on to something.” She turned to him. “Alright pal, we’ll put you on a trial run. What do we call you anyway?”
“I...I don’t know.” He shrugged.
“Well we have to call you something.”
He thought about it, then looked to her again. “Varindel is fine.”