- Chapter 01 -

“... and that’s the last room. The Fabricator Booth.” Yvar’s voice calls out even as the connection was made to the rest of the SAP’s systems. She’d just spent the last ten minutes going through every chamber or room within the SAP, activating them manually via the consoles found in each one.

In a way, it felt as if body parts I’d never known had simply been turned on. They’d connect, and I’d get near instant data access and interface ability with whatever goodies are inside them. A moment or two later and I literally knew everything each of the rooms did or contained. And there’s quite a lot of it, truth be told.

The SAP is a modular survival system. It’s also a truly unique construct of the Hysarian Empire, built to a standard generally far above most other interstellar species’ survival mechanisms. Even humanity only ever built what basically amounted to escape pods capable of surviving hazardous atmospheric reentry, with very little in the way of comforts or utility afterwards.

The ‘cheapest’ option, as it were.

Even now, I don’t know why the Hysarian’s would build such an incredibly complex and no doubt expensive set of systems. Yvar had said it was due to the conservation of resources, but without any reference I cannot tell if it is a cultural thing or not. I’m not particularly interested in finding out right at this moment either.

Instead I’m far more taken with all the information being pushed into my mind. As data-dumps go, the Fabricator Booth’s was by far the most massive and taking the longest. It is why Yvar had put it off until last. If I were still a flesh-and-blood being, I’d definitely have a three-day weekend binge sort of headache.

“Wow. That’s a lot to take in,” my voice finally comes out from the console in front of Yvar. I don’t miss the sigh of relief Yvar let’s out when I finally speak though. I completely understand her worry however, as we had something of an accident earlier.

“All is well so long as nothing is wrong.” Yvar says then, even while making some sort of sign with her fingers. I’d come to learn that Yvar is by far the most religious of her shipmates, although it is mostly from indoctrination than anything else. Years of study and training have just engraved those habits into her, as with all Overseer caste Hysarians.

“Yes, and it’s truly amazing that the only corrupted systems were the libations chamber. Thankfully the water recycling system was a quick fix.” I cannot help but say in a joking manner, although in truth it had been a bit of a hair raising experience for a minute there. The literal flood of water that had gushed out of the walls the moment Yvar had activated that room had scared the crap out of both of us. No pun intended.

It also went to show me just how powerful of an engineering endeavor the SAP truly was at that time too. The water had been literally drained away from everywhere it had reached from the flood via a system of micro-drains and pressurized suction vents that had popped up everywhere. Not a single atom of H2O had been wasted as it was pumped back into the recycling system.

Especially now that I had full access to the SAP’s systems, I can tell the incredible complexity that had gone into its construction. This SAP is literally a square cube smack dab in the middle of the ship, the Hessisian, and it’s entire interior is made up of a combination of various ‘smart’ nanite materials and processing machinery. No wonder it required its own dedicated AI system to operate, as even a team of dedicated engineers wouldn’t be able to control everything in a fast and efficient manner.

“Indeed. I had no idea the SAP had backup databases in case of data corruption,” Yvar says then, even as she turns around and leaves the small room. It had only been about thirty minutes after her stint in the medical bay, having undergone rather invasive surgery to remove rather nasty shards or splinters of some sort of ammunition she’d been shot with. Yet the hearty cocktail of chemicals and medications had gotten her back up on to her feet within minutes. In fact she didn’t even have a scar remaining to show her experience.

The fact that she came out of the medical bay naked was an issue that had to be taken care of quickly though. It was an utter distraction for me, to say the least, because Yvar Kjeris is one beautiful alien babe. Standing at five feet and eleven inches tall, her body is the perfect combination of soft curves, trained and toned muscle, and legs that went on forever and ever.

Literally, if I’d still been a breathing man, I would have drowned my damned fool self in my own saliva while drooling all over her. Shit. I hadn’t really noticed it while she was undergoing surgery, because of all the purple-blue blood and the medical equipment surrounding her, but I definitely noticed afterwards. She did too, although she just laughed it off. I’m not sure if it is a modesty thing on my part, but Yvar did say that most Hysarians’ on their homeworld basically go around naked anyway. Then again their homeworld is a tropical waterworld with a very steady temperature range almost everywhere except at the poles.

In other worlds, a paradise for guys who enjoy eye candy. And blue skinned elfin beauties. Yeah, any fantasy guys’ wet dream, right there.

“Hm, yeah. The backups and failsafes built in incase of critical system failures are definitely impressive. An entire 70 percent of the SAPs’ data stores are backup databases and blueprints for every piece of machinery available within the SAP itself. Including all the modular chambers not already part of this particular one.”

I did already mention that the SAP was completely modular, right? It’s also scalable, limited only by the available space within whatever vessel it is built into. From what I can figure out, the SAP within a dreadnought class battleship is four times as large as the one here, and includes operational chambers far more complex than what we currently have. It also has enough room for far more crew to take refuge in in comparison.

“That’s good to know, Havok.” Yvar says then, even smiling a bit as she made her way back out into the central chamber of the lower half of the SAP. A platform is waiting for her, hovering half an inch or so off the floor in the center of the otherwise bare room. It’s the lift that’d take her back up to the upper level, which effectively acts as living quarters and the more vital systems.

The lower level is what I’d call the logistics hub for the SAP. This level includes the material and resource storage room, the resource processing and recycling room, the aptly named delivery room, and finally the fabricator booth. Basically everything a person would need to build almost anything, from scratch.

And I literally mean that. The entire thing is basically a giant industrial replicator and nano-fabrication workshop. Dump in rock, dirt, ores, and organic materials and it’ll pump out building materials or hardware as required to build anything and everything. Especially the Delivery Room, which is literally the biggest room in the entire SAP, with it’s door being wall-to-wall in order to pull out the largest pieces the SAP can manufacture. Or completed assemblies, like robots or vehicles.

It really is a geek’s dream come true. Hehe. The toys, all the toys!

The upper level is the living block, in a sense. Where the lower level is basically a cube with one room on every wall, the upper level is more of a T shape with a variety of smaller rooms and a hallway with outside access. Living quarters, the libation chamber, medical bay and what accounts as a small kitchen nook take up only a quarter of the space. The rest of the rooms are more storerooms for supplies and equipment, followed by the power core and what is basically the server room.

It takes a vast array of computer systems and data storage devices to support an AI, and I’m really at home like a fish in water within them. Being cooped up in an old human-made data crystal was a decidedly uncomfortable experience once I finally managed to get out of the thing. Hm. It was like going from a small 100-square foot loft apartment with really cheap rent to a nice 2000-square foot apartment or house. The difference in comfort is instantly recognizable.

It also boosted my already augmented faculties when the server room was activated as well. The sheer amount of processing power and memory space is still taking time to get used to. Like, if I’m not focusing on Yvar riding the lift up to the upper level then it almost appears as if time is frozen for me, because of how fast my mind is running. The central control console was impressive enough, causing a time dilation effect upward to 16 times subjectively. Now the problem is even bigger, which I’m having a hard time throttling down to a more regular speed. It’s impressive, but scary as hell too.

Thankfully I have a few things to occupy myself with. Each room within the SAP is basically self contained and has its own support systems, from which I basically point-and-click to activate a given function. A big step up from the old plug-and-play hardware/software compatibility that humans used since computers first became mainstream. But my biggest task is controlling the interconnectivity between the SAP rooms themselves.

I’m solely responsible for moving materials from one place to another, in other words. Like, when Yvar was in the medical bay, she used up a whole slew of different resources and biological materials during her surgery. The medical nanites, for instance, were recycled by the automated systems, along with all of her own spilled blood and debris; but there’s still a net loss due to all of the blood that had to be synthesized along with the medications that had to be pumped into her body.

So besides the cleanup of the blood trail she’d leaked all throughout the SAP when she first entered it, I had to toggle which resources to move from the stores into the medical bay in order to fill it back up again. The same goes for any food or drink she’d consume, the air she breathes, and a thousand and one other processes that could or would happen. It’s an interesting system, to be sure, but incredibly nitpicky. Everything is stored for later use, and is only portioned out as needed. An indepth look into Hysarian resource management, to be sure.

“Ugh. The incoming connection from the Hessisian is still too intermittent for me to establish a stable connection, Yvar.” I finally cannot help but groan out in frustration at the other thing that’s keeping me occupied.

When Yvar had completely activated the upper level of the SAP, I’d regained partial connectivity to the ship outside. Supposedly that connection is a single, highly armored dataline of some sort. Yet what is coming through that connection is broken as all hell. It isn’t data corruption, but the remnants of leakage. Completely and utterly fragmented, in other words.

I tried to explain what was going on to Yvar, but for all that she’s one scary smart woman, she is not a scientist or engineer of any stripe. The best she could come up with is that either the connected dataline is broken, unlikely, or that something is wrong with the computer system that’s supposed to be sending the signal in the first place. That’s a good possibility, but it also means that things on the Hessisian are worse than we’d originally imagined.

After all, all signals in and out of the SAP are supposed to be controlled via the vessel’s main computer, either directly from the bridge of the Hessisian itself or from the Engineering department. The only reason why this sort of situation would occur is if both of those important places are in dire condition. Or right out destroyed. Which is not a happy thought for either myself or Yvar.

“Goddess…,” Yvar mutters, and I have to look away when she does that frustrated-pouty thing with her lips. Otherwise I’d just end up staring and lose track of time and everything.

“Havok, produce a powered mobile suit for me. I’m rated for a Class C, so go with the standard interface. And enough electronic parts to repair a primary computer console.” She starts giving orders then, and while I still find the whole taking-orders-against-my-will thing to be annoying, I don’t really begrudge her at this point.

She’s the one that has to go out there by herself, after all. Which isn’t to say that I don’t have my own suggestion on the matter though. Heh.

“Why don’t I make one of those engineering robots, a small one, and go out with you? If we can set up a signal booster and a string of transceivers, I could control the thing from the SAP and you won’t have to do the heavy lifting yourself.”

It’s a good suggestion, if I say so myself. But I do have an ulterior motive as well. I really, really want to see what an alien spaceship looks like, you know? Plus I’ve been cramped up in a computer for a damned long time. Being able to stretch my legs would be awesome, even if it is only figuratively.

“That’s a good idea, do it.” Yvar doesn’t even take but a few moments to think about it. Which is good for me, but I’d already added it to the queue while waiting for her. I didn’t predict that she’d say yes though; I just knew I had more than enough time to remove it should she say no. So no harm done.

It also went to show that her commands are not absolute. I can tweak them or even subvert them should I have a need to do so. Or add things before or after fulfilling the command. Which is helpful information to know at this point.

Because while I may have a working relationship with Yvar Kjeris right now, there’s no telling when that relationship may break down. Having my own means for a backup plan may just be required in the long run. A gloomy thought, to be sure, but a necessary one.

“Right-o. ETA is 22 minutes. I’d suggest a quick snack and perhaps a nap, Yvar. Today is going to be a long day, and has already been a long one for you, I’d imagine.”

“Hmmm, well, you aren’t wrong about that.” Yvar lets out her own sigh then, although I’m pretty sure it’s to cover up a yawn that was going to leak out when I said the word ‘nap’. Which just goes to show how worn out the woman actually is.

I really don’t want to think about how long she’d been up by this point. And the quiet, isolated nature of the SAP doesn’t help any in that regard. It’s like a totally different world compared to what may be a literal horror going on outside.

On the other hand, I know that the only thing that could really destroy the SAP itself is if the ship is falling into a damned star. It has so much armor and internal integrity shielding, that so long as there is enough power we could potentially survive crashing into a planet at a fraction of the speed of light and survive it. It’s an insane amount of survivability. Which is what the SAP is all about, I’ve come to find out.

The SAP is not a survival capsule or escape pod. It wasn’t built as such nor was it supposed to be used as such. The Survival Agglomeration Pod is a contingency plan of the highest order, all in preparation to secure the potential survival for the entire Hysarian species. Because it seems I’m not the first dirty secret the Hysarian’s have gotten involved in over the millenium.

I’ll get back to that later though, as right now I have other things to get done. Like tweaking the engineering robot to carry a little something extra in its programming. I’m not about to take any chances if I can help it here.

---

Yvar Kjeris was tired and getting even more tired as time went on. The medical bay had treated her wounds, filled her up with fresh blood, and had pumped a lot of medications into her body; but even just tens of minutes afterwards and simply walking around had taken all of the energy out of her. So when Havok suggested she get something to eat then go take a nap, she couldn’t help but want to drop into a bunk right that moment.

She’d already been more than halfway through her ship duty schedule when the attack had happened in the first place. Which places her having been up some ten hours or so since she’d gotten out of her bed that day. Most of that time was spent going over reports, approving paperwork for logistical or scientific needs, resupply, and crew rotation schedules. All the boring things a ship commander or captain has to be involved in.

Being blindsided, knocked out of FTL, and fighting off a boarding party of the Clek was not something she or anyone else would have expected. Ten hours of tedious monotony broke out into just over an hour of frantic fighting and battling for survival would wear anyone out. Yet Yvar herself hadn’t been able to end her day there. She’d had to get into the SAP (supposedly) in order to save the rest of her ship and her crew, even though she soon found it to be nearly totally inoperable.

If she hadn’t had to rush, due to her own injuries, she wouldn’t have been willing to wake up the man known as Havok Tyler Vane at all. A living consciousness is a prize worth far more credits than she’d ever seen in her life, and the potential merits of handing him over to her superiors would have put her on the fast track for the rest of her life. Promotion, a planet-side duty, maybe even taking a husband… all of it had been in the cards.

Now those fantasies had turned to ashes, and she was left with a being who didn’t have a single modicum of respect for her obviously superior station. It was grating, in a way, but Yvar simply ignored that issue all together. Most alien races didn’t have the same reverence for hierarchy anyway, and Overseers were specifically trained not to show their disdain. ‘Professional courtesy’, others would have put it. Smile, as naturally as you can.

Havok however was trying to be helpful, on the other hand. He, if he can really be called a ‘he’ anymore, was calm and quick on the uptake even in this most unique of situations. Far different from the holovids of the raving mad consciousnesses’ she’d been forced to watch and learn about during her schooling cycles. It was kind of disconcerting, to be honest. And just thinking about it makes Yvar shiver in a mix of dread and a little awe.

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The sheer destruction a madman can do in a flesh and blood body is generally very limited. And quite often only limited to themselves and their immediate surroundings. Yet a living consciousness, driven totally insane from the very different existence they find themselves as, are by far far more terrifying. Destroying a species’ data nets, taking control of installations or even spaceships, or starting what amounts to AI wars… the potential damages are far greater than most other threats.

Truly massive galactic wars have been fought with such twisted creations. Which is why the study and creation of mind-machine transfer technology was outlawed. Right up there along with true cloning technology and several types of genetic manipulation techs. But because it is outlawed is what makes it worth so damned much.

Just thinking about it makes Yvar sigh, which she partially covers up with her hand.

“I’ll grab something to eat when I get up instead. Wake me up when everything is produced, Havok.” She says then, deciding to set aside her frustrations and thoughts in order to rest.

“Sure thing, Yvar.”

Even though she really wishes she could slap Havok one good time for ignoring her rank and station. The only thing that really gives her comfort is the fact that Havok is just as bound as any AI installed in the SAP’s computer systems. He has to follow her commands to the letter.

Or at least that is what she believes.

---

With Yvar off to sleep in the crew quarters, I’m literally left with nothing to do but fiddle my figurative thumbs. Which isn’t a bad thing, as I’ve been rather busy since all of this began. Some time to think is a great boon at the moment.

Which actually turns out to be quite a bit of time, in fact. Not focusing on anything going on inside the SAP, time for me seems to suddenly stretch out as all of the computing power of the alien hardware I’ve been installed in ramps up immediately. I’m slowly learning how to control it, but at this moment there isn’t really a reason to.

Who hasn’t wished that they could take a minute and turn it into an hour, after all? When those seconds just tick away so fast and you are left in a damned hurry, everyone wishes for more time. Or split themselves into more bodies in order to have more time for other stuff. And in this case, I literally have almost all the time I can handle.

So instead of worrying about that, I turn my attention to my Big List of Things Needing Done. My BLTND, or maybe I should just call it BLND. Yeah, that works well. Haha. Blend. Shit, I could use a drink.

Anyway, first thing first. I need to fix the Hessisian. An out of control, severely damaged spaceship does not make a good home. Hell, it’s actually more like a nightmare in the making.

Secondly I need to make sure that the remaining crew of the Hessisian doesn’t have any major problems. Yvar has already explained to me how most of the crew is in stasis, as even with the Slip-Drive FTL system, the time between star systems can still be quite long. Thus putting most of the crew into stasis is the ultimate in resource management and yada yada.

The Hysarian’s are bonkers when it comes to conserving and maintaining resources, it seems. I’m still not even sure about how that measures up to the other races out there, either. So I’ll just count it as one of this ones’ quirks. Aliens be alien, and all that.

Thirdly, I need to make sure I don’t get trapped here. The whole ‘ownership’ thing with my dearest High Overseer Yvar still grates on me, in more ways than one. It’s a situation I tried very hard not to have to deal with while on Earth, hiding from anyone or anything that could have picked up on my existence on the Web.

Plus if this is how all of the ‘living consciousnesses’, as Yvar puts it, were treated this way, I could say why they went mad. I am not some AI, after all. I wasn’t written out in code to perform whatever tasks my creator wanted from me. Thus the potential moral quandary is mute and void, from my point of view.

And I will cheat, if it means having a chance to get out of this. To that end, I’m already working on a little something-something. Hehe.

Fourthly, if I actually spelled that right, I need a whole lot more information than I already have. As horrendous as it sounds, that means I need to delve into the politics of the galaxy. Le gasp! I know~.

At the moment I literally have no information about any of the races at all, which sucks. The medical bay’s databases detail the anatomy and physiology of some 24,000 or so sentient species found throughout the galaxy, but that’s as far as it goes. Besides some small notes about homeworlds, average lifespans, and the like, the database is entirely void of anything approaching a map. Ugh. How I wish Google had become a big name in the galaxy at large.

On the other hand, the SAP here is absolutely chalked full of information. Like a damned library, it’s full of Yottabytes upon Yottabytes (or more) worth of scientific, engineering, programming, biology and other fields worth of texts. Literally everything the Hysarian’s would need to start from scratch and develop rapidly into a highly advanced civilization.

In truth, it’s all so much that I really, really don’t want to let it go if I can help it.

Fifthly, I want to find a way to steal the SAP!

Admittedly, that goal is the hardest I can think of. The SAP itself is a huge piece of technology secured within the center of the vessel, which itself provides extra protection incase of a crash landing or whatever due to its huge mass. Or at least, huge to me. According to Yvar, the Hessisian itself is a damned cigar tube roughly 400 meters long by 120 meters wide. I’m not sure humanity had ever built a ship bigger than that, even when the species were a multi-star system empire.

And yet the Hessisian itself is only considered a medium sized starship by Hysarian standards. Which is just mind blowing. Also, I know I keep confusing ‘spaceship’ and ‘starship’ up, but whatever! I’ll fix my terminology eventually, damn it.

Grumbles~. All that bullshit about how ships that sail between planets within a solar system are spaceships while ships that can reach other star systems are starships and their damned Death Stars and Star Destroyers and… yes, I’m off on a tangent. Ugh.

Ah-hem. Excuse me a moment.

Anyway, back on to the main topic. I really need to find a way to make off with this SAP. It literally has everything I’d need to start building anything I want or require from the ground up. Find a planet, plop it down, toss in anything I can dig up and out would pop anything I need. It’s that great!

Yes, I know I’m skipping over a lot of what it really does, but I’m not a scientist or engineer. So long as it works, I don’t really care about what goes on in the background so long as it works. In fact, I’m not much of anything. I never worked a day in my life. Haha.

A sad, sad fact there, boys and girls.

That said, I’m pretty sure that’s everything I can currently add to my BLND. As to how to reach those goals, I’m still working on that part. Taking care of the ship and the crew definitely comes first though. Even I’m not sure I could run the Hessisian all by myself, even with my greatly boosted mind.

So I’ll just take things slow and plan things out. Which is why better than being impatient and making a mess of everything. Or getting blown up. Or deleted. Yeah, that’s the best option.

I hope.

---

“Yvar, everything has been manufactured. I have the engineering bot bringing up your suit and all the spare equipment I produced.”

Right on time I ring Yvar up from where she’s been sleeping. I do make for a good alarm clock, if I say so myself. Although Yvar definitely wasn’t sleeping in a bed.

The crew quarters of the SAP isn’t filled with beds or cots. Instead it’s jammed packed full of pods. Pods mounted on the floor, the walls, and the ceiling. Each one sublimely hooked into rotatable racks for ease of access in and out. Completely enclosed, the damned things remind me of the medical bed. And honestly, the things are stasis pods in their own right.

The crew quarters alone have enough to hold twenty people in stasis just in the same way as the pods in the rest of the Hessisian do. But these also provide regular sleeping arrangements too, which is a nice touch. Oddly enough, they look really comfortable as well.

Ugh. I haven’t laid in a bed for… a long time now.

It doesn’t take long for Yvar to get out, and although she still has that pouty-grouchy look on her beautiful face, she does seem more rested and energized than before. Which is a good thing, cause now I’m bored. I’ve been bored for the last ten minutes.

So maybe the accelerated time thing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. No matter though. The action starts now!

Or not. Because apparently Misses High Overseer is a coffee-in-the-morning person. Or what she called makta, which just seems like an off brand of coffee to me. Looking at the thick goop that is dumped into a boiling cup of water and then stirred doesn’t look all that enticing though.

“Hm? Oh, makta is a composite drink used in place of solid foods and is full of stimulants.” Yvar answered when I asked, although I could only stare in mute horror. One cup of coffee knock-off that replaces breakfast… blasphemy, if I ever heard of such a thing! Shit, I wish that had been available when I was still a living person on Earth.

Apparently it can also be flavored to whatever an Hysarian likes, to boot. The ultimate drink-on-the-go! Hm. I really need to tone it down, it seems.

Thankfully it doesn’t take Yvar to finish up her slurping meal in the small cantina kitchenette space. Only a couple of minutes later she’s standing in the middle of the core room of the SAP and is pulling on her backpack. Yes, you heard me. A backpack.

It’s a big, bulky thing, too. Like those life support backpacks you’d see those old timey astronaut guys wearing over their spacesuits back on Earth. Only this one has more straps around the arms and legs and torso than even a hikers’ backpack.

Yvar puts it on like a pro though, going over all the straps with long nimble fingers and a fastidious attention to detail. Which is good, because while I’ve been making fun of the damned thing, it’s actually a piece of highly advanced space-age technology. A fully powered armor suit that is the dream of any nerd who’d ever watched those old Iron Man movies.

Only this one is totally enclosed and rated for hazardous space environments. A Class C, in other words. Class E and Class D are rated for enclosed or open atmosphere only, in that regard. They don’t have any life support systems in them unless they are part of the specialized sort. Like hazardous chemical or military grade biological attack suits.

Once activated, Yvar’s new suit wraps around her in a twisting visage that reminds me of a person being wrapped up like a mummy. But really it’s just all of the electro-muscles and exoskeleton frame settling around her body, before the armored plates and helmet slide into place to complete the thing. A light jump on Yvar’s part, followed by a set of stretches makes sure everything works well.

At the same time I’d tied myself into her suits’ systems to keep an eye on her vital signs and other such things. And to keep an oblique eye on what she’s up to, as well. Safety first, and all of that.

“Huh, looks fun.” I cannot help but comment after she checks her own HUD readouts as well.

“Very, but it takes years in order to train on how to use them properly. All Overseers who are dispatched for off-world duties have to have at least a Grade C license.” Yvar replies and sounds rightly proud. Yet her highly arrogant tone makes me want to roll my eyes.

“Cool.” It’s basically all I can manage to spit out.

Other than Yvar getting back to being all business, there’s also a short multi-limbed monstrocity standing nearby. The engineering robot is a complex piece of machinery that reminds me of an octopus crossed with Techpriest from that old Warhammer 40K game. The PC games, I mean. Tabletop games had phased out hundred of years before I was born, after all, and collectors loved spending thousands of dollars on finding old and unpainted plastic pieces for themselves. Definitely not my thing growing up.

The engineering robot, whom I am definitely going to name Pete, is a squat and roughly cylindrical piece of kick-ass machinery. Roughly four and a half feet tall, it ‘stands’ on six flexible snake-like limbs and then has another six limbs attached to its main body, one on top of another. Each limb can rotate around its body and move independently. It also has an attached anti-gravity cart it can pull behind itself to carry all sorts of tools or materials. That’s how the thing had hauled up Yvar’s suit.

Right now it’s carrying enough replacement parts to rebuild a computer console of the same sort I was installed into originally. It’s the primary design for command consoles for Hysarian computer systems, from what I understand. Anything not of that design is usually highly specialized.

“Everything looks good, Yvar. Ready to go whenever you are.” This time my voice comes from Pete, from whom I’d just hijacked the controls from. Not a very nice thing on my part, but it’s already programmed to be operated via remote or AI anyway. I just slipped right in.

“Once we are in the Hessisian I’ll just need a minute or two to set up the signal booster, then I can place the transceivers along whichever way you want to go. Roughly every ten meters or so to keep a steady and strong signal, hopefully.”

“Right, let’s go.” Yvar finally pulls herself together, and for a moment there I was worried that she’d forgotten what all of this was for. The isolated nature of the SAP does make it seem as if nothing is going on in the outside world, but I’d never forgotten our goals in the first place.

Or maybe Yvar was just afraid of whatever she might find out there. Me, on the other hand? I’m excited to explore my first starship! Or as excited as I can be.

Getting out of the SAP was just as easy as getting into it, it seems. Yvar just walked down the hallway and actually pressed a button. A real, live button. A series of hisses came from the hallway behind her, as a set of armored pressure doors close behind her, creating a large airlock that soon cycles the atmosphere out, matching what is apparently an airless environment beyond the main doors. Which isn’t a good sign, in the least.

It gets even worse when the main doors finally do open, because a whole bunch of debris suddenly starts floating into the airlock. Thankfully none of it has any speed or momentum, but some of the bulkhead segments are quite large and Yvar has to literally push them out of her way as she stands there and tries to get a better view of what’s beyond.

Pete, on the other hand, has an easier time. Being a full two feet or so shorter than Yvar is, he can simply walk under most of the junk. Anything that does come its way can get pushed aside by his multitude of arms as well.

“This looks like quite the mess,” I transmit to Yvar, quite shocked to see all the debris myself. It was like someone had shredded everything in the hallway beyond and then left it floating in zero gravity.

“The power is out in this area, it seems.” Yvar mutters back to me, in almost a whimper.

“Well, I’ll go check the hallway out. Look after the cart, please.” I reply back to her, letting Pete let go of the cart he was pulling before he ambles forward. In fact, I have him duck down and walk on both of his arms and leg appendages right up until the edge of the airlock. Then, the ends of his limbs shaft and change into grasping claws or suction cup-like devices which make easy work in pulling his body out into the zero g environment.

On my part, all I have to do is basically point and click to get Pete to go where I want him to. Which includes climbing up the walls and onto the ceiling, as the case may be. Soon enough Pete disappears from Yvar’s view, hidden behind everything floating in the hallway.

Yet Pete isn’t able to go too far, as not twenty meters down the hallway my signal strength starts to drop noticeably and I’m forced to have Pete backtrack to Yvar in order to grab the signal booster and the first of the transceivers. In the meantime I give Yvar an update on the damages.

“Most of the bulkheads have been shredded. There are literal gaping holes in the walls, floor, and ceiling of this area, and I was able to get a look into some of the surrounding chambers. I think the damage may be far greater than you were aware of, Yvar.”

It was not good news, not at all. And checking up on Yvar’s vital signs, I could have sworn that the woman would have been biting her fingernails if she’d had the chance. Especially with her heartbeat hammering away in her chest. That didn’t bode well at all.

But the alien woman doesn’t say anything while I get to work, instructing Pete to install the signal booster on the ceiling less than ten meters away from the SAP’s airlock. I wanted to make absolutely sure I can keep a full and secure connection to the thing.

Thankfully while the bulkheads had been shredded, the stronger structural supports of the ship haven’t been visibly damaged. I have no idea what the skeleton-looking ribs are made of, but they aren’t twisted or anything. I can’t say the same for all the piping, ducts, and cables that had been running behind the bulkhead walls though. All of that is quite a mess of its own.

The signal booster is a self-contained and self-powered unit though, so attaching it in place and turning it on is easy. It’s also one of the highest rated versions I could find without breaking into the far more exotic military versions I have access too. So I don’t think I’ll have to worry about it much unless something really heavy slams into it. Which is why I put the thing in the ceiling, instead of on the floor or the walls.

Once activated, my signal is instantly boosted for some hundred meters in every direction. So with a quick update to Yvar, I set Pete to searching around again. All while also updating my internal map of the ships’ structure. Which is helpful, because I cannot find a damn intact computer console anywhere.

Indeed, this hallway is actually the primary or ‘deck zero’ route for the entire ship. It runs literally from tip to stern, and branches off to the left and right. Or port and starboard, for you nautical nuts out there. Lifts then also go up and down the decks, or levels.

Going back and around the SAP would lead toward the bridge, while continuing forward like Pete is doing goes straight for the engineering space of the Hessisian. Which is my first inclination, for a variety of reasons. And without Yvar saying so, I just keep going.

And of course, every ten meters I have Pete stop to install and activate a transceiver on the ceiling. These are simple discs with a battery in them, so Pete is carrying a whole bunch of them in his internal storage spaces. More than enough to cover the entire ship, hopefully.

“The damage is getting less severe toward the engineering spaces at the stern of the ship, Yvar.” I finally am able to give the woman some good news, which immediately acts to calm her down by a large margin. Which only serves to make me even more curious.

“What’s wrong, Yvar? You should have known things were this bad, right?”

My words have the utter effect of causing the woman to freeze up again, as her heart rate spikes to like a thousand beats per second and her body flushes in a sudden sweat. It even goes so far that she clenches her fists in her suit gloves to keep from shuddering visibly. If I had eyes, they’d really be wide watching her right now.

“Oh Goddess! I’m such a failure!” Then she screams, and I literally have to turn the volume way down before I have a damned accident. Her response was so unexpected that even Pete, whom I’m still overseeing, jerks in a nearly uncontrolled movement from my surprise.

“I ran, okay?! When the Clek boarded the ship, I was leading the party that battled them first and I got shot! So I ran! I ran straight for the SAP! Not even a Clek raiding ship has weapons that can damage a SAP!... Uuuuh!”

Oh, wow. Yvar had a total breakdown and started bawling her eyes out. And I really didn’t see that coming at all. The self-assured, hard-ass, and always by-the-books High Overseer literally squats down and starts crying like a baby right there in the airlock. It made even me feel kind of sorry for her.

But after a moment I realize why it’s all so complicated for Yvar. As the High Overseer of this vessel, she’s effectively the sole commander of the entire ship. And she abandoned that duty in order to save herself. If others came to learn of that, her position could definitely be compromised in more ways than one.

Not to mention from what she’d told me about Hysarian law. While she was in command, she effectively ‘owned’ the Hessisian. Thus all the damage caused to the ship is her direct and sole responsibility. Such a thing would have been seen as negligence at the minimum by any military on Earth, but it’s probably much worse in Hysarian society.

Shit. No wonder she’d give me up in order to activate and use the SAP’s capabilities. I’m probably the only thing standing between her and either a firing squad or a very, very long time in some dark and dank prison cell somewhere. Not cheery thoughts, any way you slice it.

“Hmmm. Okay then. I’m going to manufacture two full-sized labor robots and start pulling all of this debris in for recycling. We need to start somewhere, and making sure nothing breaks when we get power and the gravity back on has just become rather important.”

I try to take her mind off of it and put together a somewhat constructive plan for Yvar then. In the meantime, I also start tweaking some of my own plans and goals. Because I now had a very big bomb I could drop on Yvar Kjeris’ head should she ever try to pull my plug.

And I made sure to record, in triplicate, every single bit of it.