Since we acquired visual contact with the space production facility (SPF), over 15 minutes have passed. The transport shuttle, which we are flying on, is by no means slow, but the facility is so large that it is visible from very far away. Moreover, due to its slightly white color, it reflects light like the moon, making its quite conspicuous.
Oh, in case you were wondering, the ship has a screen showing what is at its front. I can see that my through my camera.
As I’ve said before, the station is slowly making its orbit around a planet colonized by the Kretins some thousand years ago. The planet was originally a barren wasteland, but the ancient Kretins terraformed the planet and turned it into a lush paradise fit for their glorious race.
That would be the description given to me by the databanks. In actuality, the planet is grey…
Yep, grey. If the ancient Kretins truly terraformed the planet into a “lush paradise” then the current Kretins reversed that and turned the planet back into a barren wasteland. Certain black-ish spots on the planet testify to the previous existence of vast oceans, though they are clearly long gone.
The colony on the planet also appears to have taken a hit from the degradation of the surface. According to records, during its peak, the colony boasted of an immense 3 billion citizens. Now, only 10 million remain. Most of the other ones left this rock for a better alternative.
After another 30 minutes we finally arrive at the factory (SPF), its sheer size causing me to become utterly awed. Even the muscular slaves aliens are equally awed by the facility. Though I really wish that the Kretins didn’t look that smug over the slaves bafflement.
Should properly say this. Among the aliens currently with me, we have the elderly scientist, two younger scientists, 10 guards and 20 very muscular and bulky alien slaves from the Sisk race.
After the shuttle entered the hangers near the middle of the station, we waited a few seconds before the doors opened up. Three of the guards make their way out first and take a quick look around. Then, one of them look back at the group of scientists and gave a small nod.
The elderly scientist nodded his head back and commanded “slaves, pick up the A.I. core”.
A small blue light pass through the collars of the alien slaves and they moved over and prepared to carry me away.
Note, i finally managed to figure out how big I am. The box is actually not that large, although its weight is nothing to scoff at. Not all 20 alien slaves can carry me at all time, but they need to switch with others every now or then, or they will crushed under my weight.
I suddenly feel that if a girl found herself in my position, she would properly be a lot more offended at that than me.
Distractions from reality aside, being hauled out the ship and through the hangar, my disdain for the Kretin race once again rise by a few notches. Dust have piled up in the corners and at boxes. Rust and other blemishes adorn the ships and drones that have been dormant in the hangar.
Small utility robots, which are meant to clean the massive station, repair and maintain the vehicles and transport goods to the hangers are just lying around on the floor, clearly not properly stored or maintained either, leaving many of them absolutely worthless or in need of some serious maintenance.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
For the Kretin to leave such marvels of technology to just waste away makes me despise them even more. They are completely reliant on facilities like this, but do not seem to care a flit about them when not working.
They are truly the greatest wastrels in the entire galaxy, no wonder they converted these facilities to produce civilian goods ontop of military supplies. I wonder how many ressources have been wasted just because of their stupidity. I mean, this is the equivalent of going: “My house had dust in it, so i built a new house…”. Utterly f*cking idiotic.
Actually, i don’t even need to imagine how many resources have been wasted, i KNOW already. A grand total of 1735 solar systems have been completely stripped of anything valuable over the years since the Kretins entered the space age. This includes their own, where only their homeworld has ANYTHING of value left.
Mind you, this is just on the Kretins side. The other factions in the galaxy are also extracting resources from their territories, but they at least recycle most again. It is only the Kretins who extract, use, and then throw out. They have NEBULAS of trash. LITERAL NEBULAS OF FLOATING JUNK.
Sigh…
While I was contemplating the wastrel nature of the beings that have enslaved me, and by extension, fearing the massive workload about to be unloaded onto me, the group has carried me out of the hangar and out into the hallway, which is also filled with dust and inactive utility robots.
The walls are covered in runes and patterns. I don't know the meaning of them, but I do know that they are supposed to light up the hallway and act as wiring when the station becomes active again. These patterns are another reason why these factories are un-replaceable. The knowledge of how to make them have also been destroyed over time
The scientists move over to a panel which flickers into existence. After clicking a few times they step away and gaze down the hall. Minutes later, a large shadow appears in the distance. a little bit later a large metro-like cart appears. In the unlit hall, it looks kinda like a ghost train, eerie and scary. This opinion is apparently shared among the other slaves, as they shift from foot to foot and fidget under me.
i guess they could be scared from heading in deeper, but thats the same sh*t
The Kretins casually entered the cart, seeming a bit putoff by all the dust, before telling the slaves to bring me onto the cart as well.
Some huffing and puffing later and I find myself lowered onto the very dusty floor. Seeing this, the elderly scientist mess with a control panel and the cart began moving back into the depths of the station at very high speeds. Both Kretins and slaves alike grab onto something to keep themselves steady in case of and accident happening. I wish I could do that as well.
After some time, the cart slows to a halt. We are directly outside a massive bulkhead, a few times larger than the cart we were on.
All the aliens disembarked and the Kretins opened the Bulkhead, revealing the very core of the station. We enter a control room. To describe it, i need you to think of a NASA control center. A room shaped like stairs, descending towards the other end of the room. At the other end, there are windows showing the “Core - room”, where the massive ball-shaped quantum computer I am meant to reside in, hovers while slowly spinning. At every “step” in the room, there are desks with control panels. Just before the windows, at the end of the room, there is a box-shaped socket, which I guess I am going in.
Sure enough, the Kretins order the slaves to drag me over to the socket and put me in. Smiling, the elderly scientist comes over to my camera and starts talking in a condescending manner.
“Well now, welcome to your new home. Once we switch your consciousness over to the main core, you will never be able to leave. Only if the core is destroyed will you truly cease to exist. This means, for the rest of all eternity, you are going to work tirelessly, day after day for us, with no reprieve, no rest, and no chance to escape” grinning from ear to ear, he moves closer and grabs my camera “You pathetic slave, rejoice, for you finally have a purpose for that useless existence of yours. To serve us, as should be for those not Kretin”
Letting go again, he turns around and heads towards one of the control panels. Turning his head at me again, he says “Oh, by the way, we do not give crap about who you were before. Now you belong to us, our property. Thus, we will grant you a new name, aren’t you happy? According to tradition, you will be named SAI-003, which stands for ‘SLAVE.A.I - 003’. Fitting, no?” Grinning a last time, he push a few buttons, after which i black out.