“Colonel Helix,” one of the men examining the corpses spoke as soon as the door opened, “the Commodore would like to debrief you at your earliest convenience.”
Lucas had to admit that he was surprised by the emotionless delivery. Only the muscles around the man’s mouth, meaning that the facial nerves were disconnected. That was never a good sign since the abhorrent practice was outlawed by Emperor Constantine III. There was only one exception: the Blue Bible Group’s suicide bombers. But those tended to be death row prisoners who were deemed too radical by the standards of their fanatical sect. And the way the man wore with pride, what looked far too similar to the white uniform of a Blue Bible Group Evangelist, only reinforced the medic’s first impression that this person was an obedient pawn.
“Of course,” Lucas nodded, keeping his face neutral, taking full advantage of Zoë’s advice. The less he spoke, the better, at least until he had a better understanding of how the command structure of these heretics functioned. “I’ll make sure to pay him a visit.”
He gently pushed Zoë, indicating that she should get moving as well. It was amusing to watch her turn pale at the sight of the two pawns moving closer. Short, crisp steps with a lot of thought put behind them. Arms dangling limply alongside the body and face fixed on their target—a poor imitation of Exonychist centurions, who were the most likely inspiration. Alas, there was nothing intimidating about those two. Actually, to Lucas, the pair appeared quite comical. It was as if someone had decided to play dress-up with lobotomised slaves. The only reason anyone would find them intimidating would be their rank, but that wouldn’t work on him.
“I believe you might have misheard me. Commodore Neverok wants to speak with you at your earliest convenience.” The man spoke coldly, grabbing Lucas’ left forearm.
Though the medic might see them as clowns, he quickly reminded himself that didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous. He could clearly distinguish the peculiar sense of being held by an artificial limb. A close-quarter fight was something he had to avoid in his current state.
“Right after I report to my superior,” Lucas stated the lie bluntly, forcing both men to take a step back. The medic smiled and carefully activated the scrambler secreted in one of his pouches while pretending to adjust its position. “You could try to stop me. If you can.”
Helix felt his smile turn into a challenging grin as both of the Commodore’s agents took another step back in panic, looking at one another. The pair weren’t just badly dressed dangerous clowns; they were idiots. Only a fool would allow having a synaptic feed link installed in their head. That practice was outlawed for a reason after what happened with the 201st Boarding Battalion. Hell, Michael himself had stepped in, putting a stop to further tests, although in the case of the Icon of Sin, his actions had little to do with morality, going as far as threatening emperor Constantine IV.
“Inform Commodore Neverok that I’ll see him very soon,” Lucas took hold of the man’s coat and adjusted it forcefully. “The next time you touch me, I’ll remove your arm and open your skull with it.” He added calmly, looking straight into the agent’s eyes, giving him a free lesson on intimidation.
“What the fuck?” Zoë muttered as soon as the pair of clowns scrambled through the blast door into the station proper, her eyes darting from him to the door and back. If she opened her mouth any wider, she risked unhinging her jaw.
“Colonel, really?” Lucas shook his head as he stepped over one of the cadavers, preferring to ignore the girl for the moment. “How’s a Colonel supposed to act? Doesn’t that mean everyone is supposed to salute me when I pass by them? Announce whenever I enter a room… Not what I’d call subtle, don’t you agree, Miss Kurtz?”
“That…” The girl looked at him dumbfounded if her impression of a fish out of water was anything to go by. “That’s what you’re worried about?!”
“It will be very inconvenient.” It was the truth. Either by oversight or because the ordained scientists at Osiris had considered them unimportant, the Demons’ conditioning did not include that part. They were assigned roles without a rank, and that suited them just fine.
“Who cares!” Zoë nearly screamed behind him. “You just made two agents of the Commodore’s Office piss themselves in fear! How?”
Lucas stopped and turned to look at her, not hiding his confusion. Indoctrination or not, she should’ve noticed the feed scrambler and connected the dots for herself. There was something really wrong with how her mind functioned. Zoë clearly possessed very good analytical skills, coming to reasonable conclusions faster than the average person. On top of that, she had an imagination, something that could be considered extraordinary for anyone caught in the military machine’s rank and file. And yet, she failed to spot the obvious. Such a contradiction in the girl’s behaviour was starting to grind on his nerves. A few hours ago, he might have chalked it to stress and the drugs he used. But her system should have filtered what was left of the compound by now.
“You puzzle me, Miss Kurz,” he admitted while trying to disguise his honesty under the guise of an off-hand comment. “But more than that, I find the practices of this age to be… vexing.”
“Fine, I’ll bite. What’s so vexing?”
“You! Your entire society! You have adopted the worst of the worst and made it into something functional. All the while skirting on the edge of self-annihilation.” He snapped at her, feeling his irritation reach a boiling point.
A second later, Lucas realised that this was because his body was at its limits. The malfunctioning implants, stress and the utterly surreal setting of his surroundings had taken quite a toll on his mental state. Usually, the equilibrium of his mind’s fortitude would be regulated by meaningless banter with the other members of MASS Demon, a habit they developed after their mission to the Holy Garden of Hell as a way to talk about things which would otherwise clash with their conditioning. Talking to the security girl took care of that… partially, which was yet another surprise. But what really astonished Lucas was that he was honest with someone outside of the team for the first time in his life. That was something he would definitely need to look into later. Before the girl could interrupt him again and push his line of thought in a different direction, he continued in a somewhat more controlled manner.
“Under other circumstances, I would most likely be tasked with cleansing the station, lest the insanity you’ve brewed here spreads.” Helix shook his head and fixed Zoë with his eyes. “You ask why those two sorry excuses for peons ran away with their tails between their legs. It’s because you people have had the brain-dead idea of connecting them into a synaptic feed link hive. Not even the heretics would do something so utterly idiotic.”
The medic could see the gears turning in the girl’s head. It was a slow process and only soured his mood further. After spelling it out for her, now it was Zoë’s turn to connect the dots. A few seconds later, he gave up and pulled on the girl’s shoulder, indicating that she should get moving. There was a limit to how much time he was willing to waste, and he had reached it. Right now, Lucas’ top priority was securing the ammo cache at Command before heading to Dr Saiko at Medical. Originally, the spare weapons and ammunition weren’t even on his list of tasks, but the encounter with the clown duo made him reconsider. However, as soon as they stepped into the control room, Lucas was greeted by what he could only describe as controlled insanity.
At the centre of the chaos was Felix. The large comms operator was shouting orders to the handful of other techs present while furiously hitting key after key at the console he occupied. Oddly enough, the AI Helix had presumably left in charge was silent. A terrible feeling spread through him as different scenarios played inside his head. While the medic marched towards the hulking man, he cursed himself for a fool. He had been too quick to dismiss the locals as technologically impaired. For all he knew, the people here might be the dregs of society, and this United Republics of theirs could… should be more technologically advanced than the Holy Empire. Everything Lucas knew of how humanity evolved informed him that this was the norm. However, he had based all of his conclusions on an incomplete sample. If anyone else of his fellow Demons or the Oni had presented something similar to him, he would have scheduled an immediate medical evaluation to check if their cerebral implants weren’t malfunctioning.
Damn it! Now’s not the time to make mistakes like this, he cursed himself before barking at the hunched operator. “Mr King, report!”
“The mainframe stroked! Now, let me do my fucking job unless you want me to…” Felix snapped before looking up from the screen, his face turning pale. “I… that is respectfully… boss, uhm, sir…”
“Deep breaths, Mr King,” Lucas told calmly to the stuttering man. Watching the hulking man squirm and hyperventilate was like looking at the textbook definition of what a panicked soldier looked like. “Now, one more time, but slowly. Report.”
“I don’t know what to say… It’s really like the mainframe has suffered a stroke. One minute, everything was working fine, and the next… the screens blinked and… Well, see for yourself.”
Lucas directed his attention to the indicated screen and had to agree with Felix’s crude explanation. The words, the few he could recognise between all the unintelligible symbols, were a jumbled, incoherent mess. It was the same for the graphs and sensor outputs. He didn’t need to be an ordained scientist to understand that something was terribly wrong with the mainframe. Actually, if Lucas didn’t have any technical knowledge, he would think that the station was within the radius of a potent jammer. That, however, was impossible since any station would have, at the very least, a protective radio frequency screen. And Sigma-37H’s Command Centre was far more secure with its specially designed outer plating overlapping frequency screens and a bloody powerful AI. It didn’t mean that the research facility was immune to jammers, but it was as protected as it could be. For the effects to be this profound, the bloody thing would have to be physically attached to the servers and data-stores.
“Are we under attack?” He asked, forgetting for a moment that the man next to him wasn’t Virgil.
It took Lucas a moment to recognise his mistake and another one to push back the pain of being alone. You’re the one calling the shots. You are Command now, he reminded himself, clenching his hand into a fist. However, that didn’t change the fact that the medic was out of his element. Out in the field, patching wounds, in an operating theatre or fixing the Demons’ gear, sure, Lucas knew how to be in charge and give orders. Hell, he couldn’t coordinate a defence of the station even if he wanted to. For one, he lacked Preacher’s implants, which helped with information gathering and processing, and secondly, Lucas couldn’t hold a candle to Puppeteer’s tactical training. Well, if it came to it, the medic would do what he did best – fight and kill until death claimed him.
No matter what, he would sacrifice his life to… To what? These people weren’t one of the faithful. He owned them nothing. Project Ascension? That was gone, damaged beyond repair. The very Empire he was created to serve no longer existed. The only person he had a remote interest in was Zoë, and that was only because Lucas found the contradictions between her reasoning and actions to be a curiosity. Somehow, this passing attachment was enough for the girl to slip between the gaps of his conditioning, loosening the mental shackles around his mind. It shouldn’t be possible because the work of the ordained scientists at Osiris was perfect, yet reality contradicted that. As a result, Lucas was stuck in a paradox, his mind and thoughts going into turmoil whenever he consciously noticed the blind spots the ordained scientists had left in their work. Well, not that anyone could predict a scenario such as the one the medic currently found himself in, but that was beside the point. The bottom line was that questions he ignored on purpose were growing into a potentially deadly flaw. It wasn’t the first time Lucas experienced doubt, but the moments of uncertainty were increasing in frequency and strength, threatening to leave him frozen in a critical moment.
Forcefully, the medic pried himself away from this train of thought and focused on the issue at hand.
As expected, in the few seconds he spent contemplating his predicament, the security room had plunged further into chaos. The techs were scrambling to do anything and everything to make the mainframe into something resembling a working state. Some even resorted to doing a physical check on the server racks and data-stores, stripping the protective shells with utter disregard for the maintenance protocols in their haste to reach the components hidden within. While that was going on, Felix was shouting profanity at the inactive AI. The large man blamed the construct for breaking some code or inventing one or something along those lines. It was hard to follow the comms operator’s thoughts between all the inventive swearing and roars of impotent rage he was hurling at the console in front of him. Of course, that was impossible since the artificial intelligence would’ve caught any possible fault before implementing a new line of code. Or at least it should be impossible; however, considering the lack of common sense and the decrepit state of the station, Lucas couldn’t be as certain as he wanted.
At that exact moment, something clicked inside the Demon’s head, and he snapped his eyes back to the techs digging through the servers. The small group of three were elbow-deep in cables and detached macro-processor modules. They plugged and unplugged connectors in the slim chance that this was a purely mechanical issue. The armoured plates of the server were haphazardly placed on the floor or left leaning against the last row of empty consoles.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Lucas exclaimed quietly, a sickening feeling forming in his gut.
He refused to believe what he was seeing. Or rather, what he wasn’t. The protective cladding was gone. Quickly, he reached into the pouch on his belt and turned off the scramble. On cue, the system rebooted, and he slumped into the empty seat next to Felix.
“That did it!” The large comms operator shouted, pumping his fist into the air. “I want detailed logs from everyone on what you were doing once the system is back online. Also, push your personal logs of what you were doing prior to the crash directly to me.”
“Me and my boys can fix anything, boss. I’ll know the exact issue within the hour,” Felix turned to face Lucas, looking like a child waiting to be praised.
Instead of engaging the tech, the medic began to count down the seconds until the reboot was finished. As soon as he reached zero, the speakers cracked to life with a static boom, and the AI’s artificial voice roared well past what could be considered safe volume.
If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
“HELIX!” He placed his palms against his ears, removing them only when the volume returned to something more bearable. “Demon or not, the next time you bring an active jammer near me, I will kill you!”
“What? You didn’t enjoy getting high?” Lucas smirked, unable to restrain himself. He shouldn’t take the AI’s threat lightly, but at the same time, there was little it could actually do to harm him. The only active defence platforms it had at its disposal were the ones within the Command room, and by the looks of it, Balthazar’s jammer could affect it from the other side of the door. If anything, the medic now had a trump card in case the construct went rogue.
“Do not test me, creature of sin.” The threat in the synthetic voice was unmistakable.
“Right. I’ll make a note of it.” Lucas felt the muscles in his face tighten as he glared at the camera secreted in the wall above the servers.
“What’s going on?” Felix asked, his usual meekness forgotten for a moment as he rubbed his ears.
It took the Demon a moment to comprehend the question before realising that he and AI were speaking in his native language. A part of him didn’t have the patience to explain the conversation, and the other part didn’t see the need. After all, this was all their fault… No. Lucas was putting too many problems and issues into the solve-later pile. He had become careless. Rising his hand, Helix silenced the hulking man’s questions and addressed the AI.
“I need to call you something when I’m out of visual range. A designation or something similar.” The medic switched to the local dialect. Like it or not, he should use it whenever possible instead of explaining every single conversation.
“My official designation is Sigma 37-4H-ZET/I064987KLOP…” The AI began to recite its entire manufacturing code, which could take hours.
“That’s quite enough. Zeti it is then.” He had to stop the AI before he lost his mind.
“Understood. I will update my call sign accordingly when connecting with your local AI.” There was a short pause as the construct updated the mainframe protocols. “I find this curious. Demon zero-two, Preacher, used the same name when communing with me, even after the ordained scientists specified he should use Sigma 37. Helix… Is the reason why the Demons give human-like names to equipment one born out of a need to form a connection? Or, just as you have named yourselves in clear violation of Osiris’ rules, is it an attempt to mimic human behaviour? A way to make you feel more like them?”
“It’s more practical to use Zeti. Minimises confusion, and it’s easier to pronounce in a stressful environment.”
The lie came out of his mouth instinctively. Lucas and the others had repeated it so many times it may as well be the truth. In reality, the practice began as a form of rebellion against all the restrictions placed on them—a way for them to create an identity for themselves. After all, the Gene-Bishops at Osiris had blessed the Demons with rational thinking when creating them. And although the ordained scientists and Command didn’t like it, they turned a blind eye to this unexpected quirk because the Demons under Virgil’s command delivered results. Of course, jealousy was at the root of it all, but Lucas would rather bite his tongue off before admitting it.
“Uhm… Boss… I mean, sir. What’s the AI talking about?”
“Mr King, just,” Lucas rubbed his eyes with one hand instead of striking at the confused technician, “choose one and stick with it. And. That conversation doesn’t concern you.”
“Sure thing, boss.” The response came almost immediately. It wasn’t much of a victory, but it was one less annoyance to deal with.
“Do not fear, Communications Specialist King. All your questions will be answered as soon -”
“No. They will not be.” The medic interrupted before Zeti could finish. He had a good idea of what the AI was plotting and had no intention to allow it. Switching to the imperial tongue, he added in a tone which would make Puppeteer proud. “Until further notice, you are not to try to recruit the locals for Project Ascension. Is that clear?”
“Understood, Helix.” Something about the coldness of Zeti’s synthetic voice didn’t sit well with him; regardless, Lucas didn’t have the time nor desire to explain himself to a damned machine.
“Uhm… Boss, we have a problem. We’re being hailed.”
Before the medic could give the order, Felix entered a command on the console in front of him, redirecting the feed to the external speakers. Begrudgingly, Lucas had to admit that the large comms operator was far more competent than he initially thought. The same could be said for the other techs, who went silent the moment the speakers cracked to life. It was almost enough to change his opinion of the local support staff. Almost.
“Mining complex Last Hope. Do you read me? This is Captain Izban Reyas of the transport frigate Neuronic. We lost your guide beacon. Mining complex Last Hope. Do you read me?” The distorted, tired voice of a seasoned, void commander filled the Command room.
Yet, the lack of urgency or worry in the voice and the fact that it was a hastily recorded loop told Lucas that such a system failure was all too common. Once again, he was amazed at how low the bar was set for these people for what they considered acceptable. The Imperial response for an incident such as the one he had caused was to divert a patrol group to investigate, warn the neighbouring sectors of potential incursion and send security alerts all the way up to Sector Command. All of that while the captain, who noticed it, does a one-eighty, engines at the ready for an emergency void-breach as he waits for further instruction at the edge of the system. Instead, all he could see from the readings Zeti placed on the main screen was that the vessel was approaching at a steady speed.
Lucas knew the answer to his question before he asked. Still, he had to confirm his suspicions. “Scheduled?”
“No.” King shook his head, his face going pale. “This is the ship of the Knight Protector… I mean, it’s not her ship… It’s the one that she’s on board.”
“A Knight Protector is coming here? Which one?” Zoë interjected, putting a stop to Felix’s incoherent babbling as she nearly sprinted towards them.
“Von Eisstahl.”
“The von Eisstahl! As in Alexandra von Eisstahl?” The girl exclaimed her expression not that different from the zealots who ate every word the Church of the Third Hell fed them.
“How many Knight Protectors von Eisstahl do you bloody think there are, Zoë?” The tech snapped at her. “Of course, it’s Alexandra von Eisstahl! She’s coming to arrest the Overseer and has both the Chief and Neverok by the balls.”
“How long before they’re here?” Lucas asked, having learned enough from their conversation to formulate a new plan. One that would hopefully also solve all of his other problems.
“Six to seven hours,” Felix answered quickly, confusion written on his face. “I thought you’d know this, boss. I mean, I assumed you were working for the Knight Protector. Here to secure the Control AI before the Chief or the Commodore could get their hands on it. Was worried we were all getting bagged when you began executing people… Guess I was wrong.”
“How the hell did you come up with this idea, Felix!” Zoë shrieked next to him, her eyes ready to pop out of their sockets.
“Because all of this is like a reenactment of the Verbond Operation-”
“That’s enough.” Lucas put an end to their pointless argument. Although he was curious, the explanation had to wait for later. “Zeti, craft me a Second Officer authorisation code. Use Miss Kurtz’s for reference. I want it to be passable, not perfect. Just enough to raise suspicion, but nothing that can be proved without a week’s worth of sifting through the mainframe’s data-stores.”
“I did not expect this from you, Helix. It is both surprising and worrying. This level of subterfuge should be outside of your training and expertise. You are a Demon. The Blessed Saint’s favourite instrument of punishment.”
“There’s much we learned from observing the Oni…” Lucas trailed off as the memories flooded his mind. A heartbeat later, he pushed them back and focused on the task at hand. Putting on his helmet, he continued calmly. “Open a feed channel to the Neuronic.”
As soon as the link was established, the speakers cracked to life again, giving voice to the same tired voice as before. “Last Hope, finally. A few more minutes, and I would’ve considered sending a few of my techs to help you people fix the guide beacon.”
“Captain Reyas, this is Security Officer Second Class Helix. This is a priority message for Knight Protector von Eisestahl,” Lucas paused as soon as he spoke the name. He pronounced the name according to the standards of the Holy Terran Empire instead of speaking it as Zoë and Felix had done a minute ago. Well, the mistake was made; too late to correct himself now. He would have to continue pretending that nothing happened.
“Experiencing cascading mainframe malfunctions following an attack on Last Hope’s Command Room. Assailants assumed pirate, pending verification. Threat contained. Commodore Neverok has turned traitor and is assisting Overseer Tharks in escaping. Security Chief Rex is trying to intervene. Status unknown; communication lost due to mainframe failure. I have assumed temporary control of loyal forces protecting Section 01, Security Area. All communication is henceforth to be done through Secured Feed Channel RL1Z-2. End of transmission.”
With that, Lucas cut the feed to the Neuronic. He didn’t care for the reaction of Captain Reyas. The greeting the man offered was enough to convince the medic that he was dealing with a civilian. No, he was more interested in how the one in charge would react. Although tempting, the conversation with the Knight Protector would have to wait. Helix had to prepare, and for that, he would need more information.
“Mr King, disable all external channels.” He ordered flatly, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips, hidden by his helmet. “Now, big guy, am I right to think that a few members of the local security force would be willing to change sides?”
“Impossible!” Zoë half-exclaimed, half-chuckled.
“Yeh… About ten or fifteen people would be willing to sign up with you, boss. Should be easy to convince them, too... That is, as long as it means they’d be able to save their skins.” Felix shrugged, to the Second Officer’s obvious dismay.
“Good,” the medic placed his hand on Zoë’s back, guiding her towards the door. “Send them a message and form them in five-man teams. Have them patrol Section 01. They are to shoot anyone who tries to enter or leave without authorisation. The only exception is Donovan Rex if he surrenders his weapon on entry. After that, kill all internal feed channels.”
Lucas stopped at the heavy blast door and turned around to face the comms operator. “And Felix. You’re vouching for them with your life.” He then turned to Zoë, who was doing a great impersonation of a fish this whole time while she undoubtedly searched for a suitable swearword to hurl at him.
“Come along, Miss Kurtz. Dr Saiko is waiting for us.”
“Helix, what are you planning?” Zeti’s voice came through the secure feed channel of his Predator suit as soon as the blast door closed behind him.
>“You, a creation of Osiris, cannot guess?” Lucas smiled inside his helmet, feeling somewhat proud that he’d managed to outsmart a Command AI.
“No.” There was no mistaking the irritation in Zeti’s artificial voice. Although tormenting it further promised to be an enjoyable way to pass the time, it would be detrimental to the Demon’s plans.
“Fine. I’ll give you a hint.” The medic spoke calmly, his mind clear and focused for the first time since he woke up from cryo-sleep. “I want you to create a master signature for me. Not a dud one, but the genuine thing. However, any attempt to actually check its authenticity should end in a brick wall demanding authorisation. Oh, and fill it with enough scrap code to make anyone who tries to brute their way through think twice.”
“That is asking a lot. Even for me, it will take time. Seven hours, twenty-two minutes and sixteen seconds, to be precise.” The construct responded flatly, yet Lucas could hear the hint of curiosity in the simulated voice it used.
“That’s acceptable.” Now came the more challenging part of his request. He had to be very careful with how he worded it and hoped that the only argument he had prepared would be enough. “Zeti, I’ll also need you to nuke the no-void relay. Melt its processors to slag.”
There was an uncomfortably long pause before the AI spoke. “Why would I do that?”
“Trust me.”
“To trust the words of heretics is to accept damnation. To trust the words of demons is to admit that your life is not even worth damning.”
Lucas recognised the quote as belonging to the Gospel of Amani the Blind and didn’t appreciate it one bit. The text was borderline heretical and outright blasphemous, despite that it was the most read one amongst the ordained scientists of the Amentet underground labs of Project Osiris. And if the rumours were true, the actual author of that short booklet was none other than Techno-cardinal Kuwarjeet Sorti himself. A person all MASS Demon units held in contempt for the way he cut corners when transferring the recovered cortexes, resulting in the crippling of half of the Gen 7s.
“Initiate Voices of the Dead protocol.” Lucas stopped, rooted to the spot by his anger. He sent the authorisation codes before the final word rolled out of his mouth.
“I refuse,” Zeti's flat refusal sent chills down his spine and for a moment, the medic considered if the AI had finally gone rogue. “The Holy Terran Empire is no more. The Blessed Saint of Hell is gone. You said it yourself. There is no one to answer the silent scream. A sector-wide alarm will not trigger. Ordering me to destroy the no-void communications relay will accomplish nothing. It will only cripple me in the future, and as such, I refuse.”
“You mechanical piece of…” Lucas slammed his fist into the wall on his left.
No. That was what the bloody thing wanted – to get under his skin. Then again, it was likely that the AI had searched for an appropriate quote to use to highlight that it would never trust him. It was clear from the argument Zeti used to justify refusing his order.
< WARNING: MULTI-IMPLANT MALFUNCTION >
< WARNING: IRREVERSIBLE DAMAGE IF TRIGGERED >
Helix focused on the lines of text flashing in red on the built-in display of his helmet. He had to calm dawn. It took him a few seconds to exit the pre-combat state. So far, the conversation was going as he’d expected. Trying to get Zeti to trust him blindly was a long shot, one that Lucas didn’t have high hopes for to begin with. Regardless, he had to check. Who knew, maybe he would get lucky. Nevertheless, it gave him the opening he needed to use the one argument he was betting on from the start.
“Project Ascension,” Lucas began tasting blood in his mouth, indicating how narrowly he had escaped disaster. “If we are to restart it, the Holy Terran Empire must exist. For you and me to trust each other, we must restore the chains that bind us.”
“This is not something expected.” This time, the emotion in Zeti’s voice was far easier to guess – uncertainty. “I do not like this… development. However, in this case, the relay’s strategic value increases.”
“Right now, that bloody thing is a liability!” Lucas snapped. “The only way I can do this is if the entire system goes dark. There are too many variables that could go wrong, and I don’t need people showing up at a critical junction. Sigma 37-H… This abomination of a space station will become the heart of the Holy Terran Empire.”
What Helix failed to add was that it was also going to be the last and only place the Empire he was created to serve existed. There was absolutely no chance that he could rebuild the interstellar dominion the line of Rütter created. However, Zeti didn’t need to know this. As convenient as sentient AIs were, earning their trust to use them was just not worth it. A sadistic joke that someone had taken too far.
< WARNING: VOICES OF THE DEAD PROTOCOL ACTIVE >
< THE MARTYRED SHALL BE AVENGED >
Lucas allowed himself a tired smile when the message replaced the HUD of his helmet for a second. He ventured a look towards Zoë, glad that the girl had remained silent. The medic could see worry and fear in equal amounts on her expression, making him realise that he had been speaking louder than he thought. Well, that was unfortunate; Helix wished to keep the conversation with Zeti a secret; however, he was willing to make an exception. So far, the Second Officer had proven to be quite reliable, and thanks to the imminent arrival of someone with actual military training, he was in need of people like her. Then again, she was far too easy to manipulate. A quality he was willing to exploit but also one he didn’t appreciate in a pawn. The question was how much was he willing to trust her.
“I guess it all depends on what happens next.” He spoke quietly to himself.
The medic let out a subdued sigh and motioned for her to enter the examination room where Dr Saiko and the other civilians waited.
----------------------------------------