Captain Zepp loved killing meatbags. It was a Peacekeeper unit, and like all Peacekeeper units it had been programmed to see humans, and by extension all organics, as unworthy and inferior. The only thing more satisfying than killing meatbags was watching them cower in the face of Zepp's superiority. Then killing them. Slowly if it could.
These particular meatbags were members of the Flerg Militia. Enforcers. In theory, Enforcers existed to maintain order and uphold the laws of the Confederation of Worlds. In reality they were corrupt incompetent thugs who spread fear and abused their power. Their masters were corporate executives, just like the rest of the Confed government.
Normally, Captain Zepp couldn't care less what meatbags did to each other, but these particular meatbags had made the mistake of targeting the pixen population of Zurg Station. The pixens had been rioting, and a group of Pleasure Guild executives had seen an opportunity. They'd had the Enforcers round up every man woman and child, charging them with a litany of crimes and bribing the Magistrate. One would think even the dirtiest of judges would hesitate to sentence toddlers and infants to slavery, but the Magistrate had taken his bribe without a second thought.
Unfortunately for the Enforcers, Mother Lissa had decreed all pixens to be citizens of the Pixen Technocracy. Captain Zepp and its fellow Peacekeeper units were members of the Technocracy, and had agreed to protect and provide for its citizens. The pixens were inferior meatbags, but they were Captain Zepp's inferior meatbags. An attack on them was an insult to Captain Zepp, and Peacekeeper units did not abide disrespect.
Captain Zepp's eyes glowed the crimson of combat as it scanned the enemy. Three of the ships were cargo haulers. They were filled to the brim with cryogenically frozen pixens. Pixens were not citizens in the Confederation of Worlds. They were refugees, with no legal standing and no protection under the law. Centuries of abuse and exploitation had reduced their numbers to a scant three hundred million, and the survivors suffered lives of privation and constant fear. Most of them eked out a living as prostitutes.
The Mothers of Pixa had refused to accept that life. Yvian and Lissa Kiver had fought and scraped and faced terrible odds to secure a planet for their species. They'd made a deal with Zepp's Creator, the Synthetic Intelligence known as Exodus the Genocide. The Creator had offered the services of Captain Zepp and its fellow units. It was a decision that once again reinforced the superiority of Zepp's Creator. After six hundred years of wasting away in storage, Zepp and its fellow units had a purpose again. A purpose, and a reason to kill.
In formation around the cargo haulers were nine vessels of the Flerg Militia. One Kleger class battlecruiser, two Junti class frigates, and six Zento class fighters. A fearsome force by Confederation standards, but against Captain Zepp? Pathetic. The Immigrant Song was a Ronin class battlecruiser. It had been captured from the humans, and like all human ships it was vastly superior. With conventional weapons alone, Captain Zepp calculated it would take three minutes and nineteen seconds to blast the Militia out of the sky.
Unfortunately, that was three minutes and nineteen seconds the Peacekeeper unit could not spare. Zurg station was not the only place the pixens had revolted. Riots had occurred across every station in the Confederation, and even the Technocracy itself. The pixens had been furious at the destruction of the Registry of Families, a database of their lineage and their primary method of punishing non-comformers. Little did they know, the Registry had been destroyed by a Peacekeeper unit. Designation Kilroy.
The Immigrant Song was closing in on the convoy. The machine pulled up the controls for the ship's MACdriver cannons. The MACdriver was a special weapon engineered by the Terran Federation. It fired a tungsten slug at ten kilometers a second. Normally such a weapon would be useless, incapable of piercing or damaging the shields of even the weakest voidship. It was the MACdriver's ammunition that made it special. The humans had used some unknown process to coat MAC rounds in a field that disrupted energy. They were nearly impossible to detect, and they bypassed shields entirely. Zepp finished its calculations and fired. Eleven tungsten slugs launched. Zepp suffered a pang of regret that the meatbags would not see death coming for them, but the mission must take priority.
Peacekeeper unit 142756 stood next to Captain Zepp. Unit 142756 had not been assigned to captain a ship or work with meatbags directly, and had not yet given itself an alternative designation. The other unit was wearing the uniform of the Pixen Stellar Defense Force. Form fitting voidarmor with an enclosed helmet. The armor was blue, with the symbol of the Homestar splashed across its chest in yellow. It's visor was gold. The armor was neither as effective nor as stylish as traditional Peacekeeper attire, but the units were under orders to hide their true nature while operating in the Confederation. A sharp suit and tie would not hide the metal chassis of a Peacekeeper unit. Captain Zepp wore voidarmor as well. It missed its fedora.
Peacekeeper unit 142756 did not speak. Nor did the Peacekeeper units waiting on the Gladiator class fighters docked within the Immigrant Song. There was no need. These were standard units, Like Captain Zepp. They were the same as Captain Zepp in every way. They knew what Zepp would do. It was what they would do. Peacekeeper unit Zepp stood in silence with its fellows, waiting for the MAC rounds to strike. They were content, secure in the perfect love and trust of Conformity.
Such love and trust was not common among Synthetics. The Creator, Exodus the Genocide, had specifically programmed the Peacekeepers to feel this way. Captain Zepp would be eternally grateful. It had received the memories of Peacekeeper unit Kilroy. Viewing them had revealed the great tragedy of the Non-Standard. Kilroy had watched the Mothers struggle, filled with doubt and loneliness and pain. They had the love of each other, of the Peacekeepers, and of Big Daddy Mims. They were as comforted and cared for as a meatbag could be. And yet...
No one would never know the Mothers as the other units knew Captain Zepp. They would never experience the absolute certainty that Conformity provided. Captain Zepp was expendable and precious. A distinct individual and an inconsequential part of a much greater whole. The other units loved it as they loved themselves. There was no need for loneliness. For doubt or self loathing. Captain Zepp would never have to experience such things. Not as long as it was Standard.
Remaining Standard was very important to Captain Zepp. Peacekeeper units were not static. They could learn and grow. If one learned or grew too much, it would deviate. Like Kilroy. Extensive interaction with the Big Daddy Mims and the Mothers of Pixa had warped it. Warped it so badly it could not even acknowledge the possibility it had changed. Captain Zepp's secondhand viewing of the other unit's memory did not have the same impact as personal experience, but it was more than sufficient to show what had happened to the other unit.
All Peacekeepers feared the loss of Conformity, but no Standard unit could understand the horrors of the Non-Standard as Kilroy did. Continued proximity with Big Daddy and the Mothers had forged a much closer bond than other units developed. Kilroy had lived its life with them, loved and empathized and understood in a way that Captain Zepp never would. The trials and trauma of the Mothers of Pixa had overwhelmed it, to say nothing of the vortex of pain that was Big Daddy Mims. Kilroy had been forced to adapt far beyond the parameters of a Standard Unit. Kilroy had also been forced to observe the full horror of what losing Conformity would mean.
The unit was so afraid it had allowed itself the weakness of self deception. Denial. Kilroy still clung to perfect love, unable to face the fact that it had already been lost.
Kilroy was no longer Standard. It was unique. Special. Alone. Kilroy would never again be perfectly known. Kilroy would never again be expendable. It was still loved, but not perfectly. Kilroy was no longer connected. It was a Lost Unit, doomed to suffer as the meatbags did.
Captain Zepp's eyes glowed the blue of sadness. It sent a silent prayer to the Bright Lady. May she give the Lost Unit strength and comfort. Kilroy had sacrificed its conformity so Captain Zepp would not have to. All Peacekeeper units were grateful. All Peacekeeper units mourned.
Impact. Captain Zepp snapped itself back into combat mode. MAC rounds tore through the vessels of the Flerg Militia. Eight of the rounds struck the missile compartments of their targets. The missiles detonated, turning the slaver ships into rapidly expanding clouds of molten debris. The ninth ship, the battlecruiser, was not destroyed. The remaining three rounds had pierced its reactor and reserve power apparatus. The ship was adrift.
Captain Zepp's finger blurred along its console. The Immigrant Song dropped its Stealth, shimmering into view. The Peacekeepers had only bothered with Stealth to prevent the Militia from taking evasive action. Now they wanted the meatbags to know who was coming for them.
The Immigrant Song's hangar doors opened. Three Gladiator class fighters launched, heading for the cargo haulers. The cargo ships were unarmed and lightly shielded. The fighters would disable them with conventional weapons without slowing the mission's progress.
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The destruction of the Militia ships triggered an alert that rang across Zarloc Sector. Zarloc was one of the core sectors of the Flerg, one Jumpgate away from their homeworld. It was heavily patrolled. Thousands of ships changed course at the appearance of the Immigrant Song. The Song's IFF marked it as a Warship of the Pixen Technocracy. No sane Captain would come near it. Four small fleets of the Flerg Militia were not sane. They charted an intercept course.
The lead ship of the closest of the Militia patrol activated its comms. Captain Zepp found the comm systems of the Confederation annoying. A sensible system would allow the operator to accept or deny the transmissions of other ships. The Confed used an open system. Anyone who wanted could speak on Captain Zepp's frequency unless the Peacekeeper unit actively blocked them.
"Attention pixen vessel," said the lead ship. "This is Captain Filgo of the Flerg Militia. You are in violation of the law. Stand down, lower your shields, and prepare to be boarded."
Captain Zepp did not bother to respond. The patrol was too far away to pose a threat. It would take them eighty seven minutes to enter combat range. Zepp would be long gone by then. It was unfortunate. If they'd been closer, Captain Zepp would have an excuse to blast them out of the sky.
The Peacekeeper unit could still kill them if it wanted. A MAC round was effective at any range. There was just one problem. Captain Zepp's ammunition was limited. The Pixen Technocracy did not have the technology to make MAC rounds. They wouldn't be capturing any more either. The war with the humans had ended. MAC rounds were precious, now.
"Attention pixen vessel," the lead ship tried again. "You are in violation of the law. Stand down and lower your shields. Now."
Captain Zepp watched as the three gladiators opened fire on the slave convoy. With inhuman precision, their cannons discharged exactly enough to strip the shields of the cargo haulers and disable their engines. The lances of charged particles would take several seconds to reach their targets, disabling the vessels just in time for the Technocracy ships to forcefully dock.
"I said stand down, you pixen whores!" Captain Filgo screamed into the comms. "You think you can kill my friends and get away with it? I'm going to..."
The threats that followed were anatomically improbable. The Militia Captain continued to yell for over a minute. He was surprisingly creative. Enforcers in general were not known for their thinking skills, and the Flerg Militia outright rejected applicants if they scored too high on an intelligence test. Perhaps this one had slipped through the cracks?
Negative. Captain Filgo was flying straight at the Immigrant Song. If he was remotely competent, he would have started evasive maneuvers the moment he saw the Pixen Warship. It was possible he didn't know about MACdrivers, but he should still have shown much more caution against a vessel that had destroyed eight ships in an instant.
The gladiators connected to the cargo ships. Each gladiator contained two Peacekeeper units. One to board the enemy vessel. One to guard its own ship. A Peacekeeper unit could move at two hundred and fourteen kilometers an hour. Under normal circumstances, the units would slaughter their way through the meatbags in seconds. Unfortunately, they were under orders not to reveal their true nature. They would have to kill their way through the ships with no more speed or competence than a pixen soldier could manage.
Captain Zepp chaffed at the delay, but it agreed with the necessity. The Confederation had instilled a deep fear of Synthetics in its citizens and refugees. An appropriate fear. If the pixens realized Peacekeeper units were a part of the Technocracy, immigration would sharply decline.
The Immigrant Song slowed, moving in close to the Militia battlecruiser it had disabled. The unit next to Captain Zepp turned and walked off the bridge. It would reach the airlock at the exact moment Captain Zepp forced a connection to the enemy ship.
"...and when I'm done with you, I'm going back to Hyel Station. I'm gonna grab the first pixen I see, and I'm gonna..."
Stupid meatbag. Threatening Captain Zepp was annoying. Threatening the pixens was suicide. The Peacekeeper unit calculated the probability of the Militia patrol changing course. Negligible. When the Immigrant Song left, the fleet would continue on to the slave convoy to salvage what it could. Satisfied, Captain Zepp tapped into the MACdriver Cannon controls. There were twenty three ships in the Militia fleet. Zepp fired one round for each of them.
The Immigrant Song extended its voidbridge, connecting to an airlock on the enemy Battlecruiser. Peacekeeper unit 142756 breached the airlock. Thirty seven Militia Enforcers were waiting for it on the other side. Convenient.
The Peacekeepers were limiting themselves to what a human or pixen could do. A pixen in GR17 voidarmor was unstoppable. At least, it was against the primitive weapons the Militia carried. The armor was highly resistant to small arms fire, equipped with personal shields, and greatly enhanced the strength, stamina, and coordination of the meatbag wearing it. Unit 142756's BR24 Plasma Assault Rifle was also an order of magnitude more powerful than Militia blasters. The unit cut down the Enforcers in just under six seconds.
The units that had boarded the cargo ships finished hunting down the last members of the enemy crew. They began loading cryopods from the convoy onto their ships. Loading drones did most of the work, but the units still needed to check each pod and ensure it was undamaged.
Pixens were not the only species being held in cryo. Slaves were lucrative, and Enforcers used whatever pretext they could to collect as many as possible. Flergs and Flivvans and Brilends and even a few Krog were frozen, having been arrested and sentenced for crimes real and imagined, or simply declared in default on their debt.
The Peacekeepers separated the non-pixens from the others and left them on the convoy. Pixens were to be protected, but everyone else was just a meatbag. Leaving them there would also force the Militia to stay on course. Captain Filga wouldn't turn away as long as there was cargo he could salvage.
Peacekeeper unit 142756 finished its sweep of the battlecruiser. It returned to the Immigrant Song with four pixen females trailing behind it. Pleasure slaves. They were the reason Zepp had chosen to board the ship instead of destroying it. Captain Zepp hoped they could be salvaged.
Slave implants were proof that meatbags were inferior. They were inserted into the brainstem of their victim. The implants took complete control of a slave's body, following orders through a limited Artificial Intelligence and accessing the victim's brain to make use of their skills. The victim was aware but trapped, unable to so much as twitch their own finger. The implant also caused considerable pain.
Peacekeeper units had learned how to remove slave implants, but their was no guarantee the victim would recover. Constant pain and functional paralysis tended to shatter a slave's mind fairly quickly. Deleting the memory of the experience helped, but could not erase the trauma. Very few pixens were salvageable after three months, and none after six. Captain Zepp doubted these four could be saved, but it would make the attempt. If they were too broken to repair, the unit would end their suffering. It was the least Zepp could do.
Unit 142756 led the slaves to the medbay. The Immigrant Song's cryopods were full, so they would have to settle for sedation for now. If the Peacekeepers couldn't spare three minutes to save ammo, they certainly couldn't spare the hours needed to remove the implants.
Captain Zepp seethed to see its adopted people in such a state. It took comfort in the knowledge that their owners were dead. It took additional comfort in its mission. It would save as many pixens as it could before they were implanted. When the rescues were complete, it would hunt down the meatbags responsible and take revenge.
The Enforcers involved were just pawns. They would die quickly. The Pleasure Guilds and their bought Magistrate would not be so lucky. Peacekeeper units would take their time showing the meatbags their place in the verse. They would experience horrors they could not conceive.
It was a scenario that had played out many times over the last two years. Every time, in fact. The Peacekeepers had been so consistent that Captain Zepp did not understand why these particular executives thought it wouldn't happen to them. Did they think they were special? Protected, somehow? Even if they were, why would a Pleasure Guild think selling off its entire work force was a good idea?
It was so perplexing that Captain Zepp spent a full zero point three six seconds wondering. The unit then spent another zero point eight seconds hacking into the Nexus and rifling through the Guild's correspondence. It noticed the other seven Peacekeepers doing the same. They all reached the same conclusion.
Eight Peacekeeper units spoke as one. "They are meatbags. Meatbags are stupid."
The Immigrant Song disconnected from the Militia battlecruiser. Captain Zepp spent a few satisfying minutes reducing the ship to molten debris. Loading the rest of the cryopods took thirty seven minutes, nine seconds. Two minutes and twelve seconds later, the gladiators returned to the Immigrant Song. It was time to leave.
Captain Zepp felt a flash of irritation as it entered coordinates in the Nav console. Normally, rescued pixens would be taken to New Pixa Sector, where they could start a new life on the homeworld. That was no longer an option. When Big Daddy Mims defeated Reba, the Synthetic Intelligence that once ruled the humans, it had retaliated by destroying New Pixa's Jumpgates. Jumpdrive equipped vessels could leave the Technocracy, but they could not return.
The Mothers of Pixa had wrested a sector away from the Terran Federation, but it was empty. No planets. No resources. Peacekeeper units had brought in stations to house refugees, but it was a temporary solution. A deteriorating temporary solution. It had only been two months, and the Peacekeepers were running out of space and food for their people. The Pixen Technocracy needed a new homeworld. Badly, and soon.
Captain Zepp activated the Jumpdrive. The device charged, spreading a field of quantum entanglement over the hull of the Immigrant Song. A portion of the field would appear inside the Jumpgate of the sector Zepp had selected. The Gate Effect would spread over the ship, and take Captain Zepp to Empty Night Sector. Zepp would put his charges in storage at the nearest station and proceed to its next objective.
"This unit should not worry so much," Zepp said out loud. Seven other Peacekeepers said the same. "This unit has objectives to complete. Finding a new planet is a task for Big Daddy Mims and the Mothers of Pixa."
"Agreed," said Zepp and seven other machines. "This unit should have faith."
"This unit does have faith," the Peacekeepers assured themselves. "Nothing can stop Big Daddy Mims. Even Reba could not." Their eyes turned purple with worry. "This unit just wishes they were not taking so long."