Subject: BI41

Species: Mwaltin - Pwanti Conversion Completed

Description: Mammalian Humanoid, no tail. 6'5" (1.9 m) avg height. 190 lbs (86.1 kg) avg weight. 99 year life expectancy.

Ship: BI41

Location: Oros

'Form up and prepare for subspace travel.'

IRV212's voice echoed within me. The Mwaltin call this form of communication psychic, and as such the system is named psynet, but that's not how it works at all. One simply thinks of speaking and instead of one's mouth moving, a machine is activated that sends a transmission. Perhaps they're referring to the receptacle, but even that's not quite accurate. The transmission receptacle works in the same way that ears do, but much more efficiently and without the need for air as a vector.

The inaccuracy of the name bothers me. Psynet, as if we are beings with telepathic or telekinetic abilities. Ridiculous. We are just a more efficient version of the biological machines that we started out as. Flesh into metal, synapses into circuits, blood into fuel and oil. Despite the teachings of the church, we are neither gods nor their heralds, and there is no-one more knowledgeable of this fact than we.

There is an immense amount of pain awaiting those that dare to begin the journey into becoming a Pwanti. Pain that cannot be managed by any means. Narcotics, hypnosis, and meditation can only hope to keep one sane in the face of the torment that the procedure entails. It takes a will of steel to become steel.

This unavoidable pain is a byproduct of one being literally broken and built back up. Once the process is complete, most are fooled into feeling invincible. God-like, even. This feeling lasts right up until you have your first malfunction. Then you realize you are simply less fragile than before. We are not even immune to the effects of time, we have simply traded decades for millennia.

I fired my thrusters to match our small fleet's alignment, activated my Faster Than Light Drive, and verified the coordinates. This situation was even more evidence of our fallibility. The church had taught us all that the galaxy was ours, and we were the only sentients within it. Of course there was scientific dissent, but as we began our journey through the stars the church's dogma began to look more and more credible. Traveling to dozens of systems without finding even so much as an amoeba lulled us into a false sense of security.

Then we encountered the Omni-Union. At first, the church claimed that they were extra-galactic invaders, but then we encountered the Republic and United Systems. The church has been scrambling to adjust the dogma even as the rest of us prepare for war. At least these days they will admit when they are wrong, as long as they are proven to be so beyond a shadow of a doubt. There was a time not too long ago when questioning the church would be one of the fastest ways to commit suicide.

"Do you think we will survive?" BL28, my protege, asked.

"I have very little reason to believe otherwise," I answered.

BL28, formerly known as Renvira Adkur, is currently undergoing the procedure to become a Pwanti. Even now, she is wearing a specially designed suit that slowly replaces her flesh and bones with machines. She is aboard my ship so that she may learn from me, but there have been challenges.

The pain occasionally grips her focus away from my lessons, and her brain has not yet undergone full conversion. For this reason, I have created a special terminal for her that allows her to view a transcription of the psynet. This allows her to gain a better understanding of the context of my actions.

I am far from the only Pwanti that takes on students, but most do not. Some believe that one mustn't be guided through life like a child, some cannot handle the grief when a protege succumbs to the procedure, and others are simply lazy and prefer solitude.

I greatly enjoy both teaching and companionship, so taking on proteges comes naturally to me. BL28 has been with me for three of the five years that she has been undergoing the process. I genuinely hope that she survives it. Most don't, and my mechanical form has carved their names and designations on the walls of my ship form.

'Engage Faster Than Light Drives in 3... 2... 1...'

As the counter hit zero, I engaged my FTLD and we entered subspace. Our destination is an alien system ruled by the United Systems, to integrate with an allied military force. ZBC446 had been kind enough to share their knowledge of the US with the rest of us, and I had found myself somewhat in awe. A federation of beings that did not shed their flesh, yet managed to become much more advanced than we are in most fields of technology.

We exited warp surrounded by their ingenuity. Stations that held entire colonies of people, ships that were designed for peak efficiency, and weapons that we hadn't even dreamed of yet. The ships were of intensely variable size, hinting that they each had their own function that contributed to the whole of the fleet. There were small ships obviously designed to ferry people to and fro, larger ships that were slightly smaller than my own, and ships that dwarfed anything in our own fleet.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

I knew from my briefing that these were the United Systems battleships, carriers, and dreadnoughts. The battleships were much larger than our own, but that was to be expected from a weapons platform with a need for a biological crew. Their carriers were more bulbous than the battleships, but still efficiently designed for their intended purpose.

The dreadnoughts, though, seemed excessive. The battleships had obviously been designed to equip as many weapon systems as possible. The carriers were designed with their cargo in mind. These immense, cone-shaped entities that exceeded the size of any creation that I've ever seen, were built around a singular weapon. A weapon that can, allegedly, destroy a planetary entity. If I hadn't already been briefed on it, I would be completely awe-struck.

I immediately began to wonder about other fields of technology and how advanced they are in them. There are many assumptions one can make, but for every justification the opposite is true as well. Advanced weapons may mean advanced medicine, but it could also mean advanced armor instead. Technological discoveries typically follow necessity, but sometimes these discoveries occur in the pursuit of other knowledge. As such, there is no real path to technology without gross over-simplification.

As I was practicing this lecture that I may give BL28 later on, my communicator pinged. This communicator is a necessity to speak to those who still have mouths, but it had been a very long time since I'd last used it. I opened a channel and waited.

"Greetings. I am Admiral Bakir, and I will be leading this strike group," a voice said over the communicator. "I am sure you have already been briefed, but it is imperative that we avoid any miscommunications and know our roles in the upcoming battle. Our goal is simple. Destroy as many Mobile Prime Platforms as we can."

"A lofty goal," BL28 said sarcastically.

"Indeed. Now hush," I replied.

"Some of you may believe this to be a fool's errand, but we have already destroyed several of them," the US Admiral continued. "You will receive orders to join a strike team. Most strike teams will consist of three dreadnoughts whose job is to kill the Mobile Prime Platforms. Other strike teams are dedicated to occupying and harassing Omni-Union forces in other systems to distract them from reinforcing the MPPs. Each strike team will be led by a commander, who has already created a chain of command within your team. You will be receiving a data packet that contains your chain of command, as well as other information pertaining to this mission. Follow your orders, and get the job done. Bakir, out."

A data packet was immediately transferred once the communicator went silent. I ran a standard security scan, not that I would have been able to detect any malware from a civilization with Artificial Intelligence, and opened the packet. As I suspected, I am indeed one of the lucky ones that gets to accompany a dreadnought. I am attached to Strike Team Fourteen, which is led by Fleet Leader Onaya of the Republic, and there are only five others of my kind on the team.

I wondered at the point of including us in these strike teams to begin with. Of the four allied governments, the Pwanti have the fewest ships. The weapons and shields of our ships are somewhat more advanced than that of the Republic, but nowhere near the potential capabilities of the United Systems. I wonder if they know how closely we were paying attention to their defense of us...

"I thought we were going to join the swarm," BL28 interrupted my musings.

"Truly? I believe there is a political component to our inclusion on this strike team," I explained. "The United Systems might be trying to impress upon us that we are an important part of this alliance, so that we may look favorably upon them in the future."

"Are they truly so advanced as to look down on us like that?"

"Absolutely. According to the data given to Unit ZBC446, the United Systems military has advanced to the point of destroying entire stars. One does not advance that far militarily without also advancing other fields of technology as well. As with all potential enemies, they are not to be underestimated."

"I understand, but do you know why they're only fielding thirty-three strike teams? Haven't they made one hundred and ninety-eight dreadnoughts already? That's enough for sixty-six strike teams."

"I assume it is so that they can maintain a steady momentum during the assault. Half attacking, half in reserve to fill any gaps. At first glance it seems to be a rather two-dimensional way of thinking, but being able to reinforce one's losses on the fly gives one a massive advantage in warfare."

BL28's ignorance of strategy is easily forgivable. I like to consider myself a student of war, but the truth is that the Pwanti rarely go to war, and it is even less common among the Mwaltin. It has been centuries since I've seen a large-scale conflict. It's rather obvious that this is not the case for the United Systems, though.

One of our concerns with cooperation had been how difficult it would be to logistically field so many different fleets and commanders in one operation, but the United Systems had taken charge and accomplished this monumental task with ease. How smoothly everything had been going could be attributed to luck, but it was far more likely to be due to practice. I would very much like to review their history, if I should ever get the chance.

'Join with your strike teams.' IRV212's voice entered my mind once again. 'Henceforth we will be using audio communications to avoid miscommunication with the organic components of our forces. Good luck, and may the circuitry guide you to enlightenment.'

I registered amusement as I fired my engines and thrusters to comply. Unit IRV212 is a rarity among the Pwanti, a true believer in the Mechanical Singularity. He is also a competent commander, which is why we chose him to lead us in this war before we realized the extent of our alliance with the aliens. This is likely the shortest term a Pwanti fleet commander has ever had.

I took my position with the rest of my strike team, hovering relatively close to those of my kind. I wasn't the only one, the rest of the ships in the strike team had grouped themselves in a similar manner. Ancient urgings toward familiarity shine through our supposed advancement.

"I am Fleet Leader Barrilin Onaya," a voice sounded over the communicator. "Welcome to Strike Team Fourteen. Our dreadnoughts will be targeting one of the MPPs that will be in the system that we are jumping to. The rest of us will do everything we can to assist. We will start with offensive action against any Omni-Union ships we come across, and will adapt as necessary as the situation develops. There will be other Strike Teams in the same system with us, so be certain to verify your target acquisitions and firing solutions to avoid friendly fire. Prepare your FTLDs to engage on my mark."

My comrades within the strike team attempted to speak to me, but I ignored them. As a student of war, I know that there's no benefit to anything they can say now. Each of us will have to face what's coming, and no words spoken now will change that.

I will do my duty. They will do their duty. We will make the Mwaltin proud, or cease our useless existences.

"Mark," Onaya said.