“I think that we finally found out how the nano-tech is able to show such a wide variety of functions. Identifying the basis of the technology was the key. Apparently, it starts with a virus which is intertwined with the human DNA. As a side note, up until now, I have never seen a species whose DNA consists of more virus and waste code than actual genetic code.

This virus reprograms some cells in order to produce the building blocks of all other nanotechnology. It can be said that while the G.S. focused their attention on helping our bodies with tools, the humans somehow managed to build their tools into their genome. No matter what we do, each human alive today will one day develop nano-tech. I have yet to discover how their connection to G.O.D. works, but it's clear that the development of their nano-tech is guided by this network.”

- Research Diary of Ouluk Kelemdar

***Deep Space***

***Antioch***

Taking a lotus-position, I allow myself to drift freely in zero gravity and wait with my eyes closed. There is no need to check my equipment. In the past few days, I've had plenty of time to check and re-check my tools. The belt with various grenades, the plasma gun and the cutting tool, the two folded rescue suits which I carry strung to my back.

It feels like hours pass while my drones work, but in reality, it was mere minutes. A minute can be very long if your plan depends on every second. It's vital to shut the station down before anyone or anything concludes that they are under attack.

At the moment, they probably don't know what hit them. There will be alarms and a panic. Teams will be sent out to check the damage and investigate the cause. Whether it was a malfunction, a stray asteroid, or a genuine attack. Then they will have to report back and the people in charge will have to make a decision. Ultimately, that decision has to be carried out. All of that takes a lot of time.

The waiting ends when one of the drones reports that it has a working connection to the station's network. Excited, I use it to infiltrate the station's computers. Guided by Silith's instructions, I easily gain access to the security system, but when I attempt to access the self-destruct function, I run into a wall.

There is the possibility to trigger the self-destruct, but none to deactivate or even to abort it. It simply doesn't exist.

Well, it's not like Silith didn't warn me about it. The designers of this facility anticipated that the computer systems would be hacked and hard-coded the vital systems. If the programming is in the hardware itself, then there is nothing a hacker can do about it.

So, I can't deactivate the self-destruct function from here, but I can make sure that nobody else can activate it either. Using my back-door into the system, I start infiltrating as many computers as possible. With that done, I start a little electromagnetic warfare of my own.

If I can't break the switch, then I have to break the hand which pushes it.

I instruct the drone to upload a series of viruses and malware of Silith's design. She programmed them especially for G.S. devices to shut down the station's network and to isolate every system from each other.

At the same time, I search their intranet for a map and get a satisfying answer after a few search requests. As it is the case with so many security systems, they can only defend well against threats from the outside, not from within. To be honest, my own ship would be weak against an enemy who has direct access to the hardware. It's hard to defend against such things.

The thought lingers in my mind, but there are more important things right now, so I file it away for later.

With the station's information network crippled, there is little chance that some random sub-routine decides to create a large firework. Sadly, this won't do anything about a person triggering the self-destruct by hand. That's the only weak point in this strategy. If there is a fanatic sitting right next to the bomb, then I am fucked.

Having ensured that my appearance won't trigger an immediate reaction, I stretch and order several Nano-Workers to follow me. One important thing I got from the station's network is a map.

Grabbing hold of a bent piece of metal, I ready my plasma cannon and pull myself into the tunnel which seems to lead upwards. Checking on the other three work-crews, I cancel the one which is tunnelling just another way out of the station. The drones turn around and quickly rejoin the group which is going to be the attack force. Another group is making its way towards the station's crew quarters and that's fine. Once they break through the last wall, they will de-pressurize the area and cause a panic.

The final tunnel leads to a storage warehouse, so I order the five Nano-Workers which are occupied with reproduction to follow down that route. They should be safe there. At the same time, they have access to plenty of materials.

That done, I return my attention to myself. I follow the tunnel which is a roughly cut tube of one metre in diameter. The Nano-Workers simply worked their way through deck-plating and electronics, totally ignoring the damage they caused. Well, it's not like I instructed them to be subtle.

Avoiding a Nano-Worker, I reach the end of the tunnel. The worker scurries past me, managing a large piece of metal. With the length of the tunnel, the work progress became slower, since the workers had to get the waste out of the way.

The worker which is busily cutting out a path reaches a final deck plating and cuts into it. The distinct hiss of escaping air tells me that there must be a pressurized area on the other side. I hold onto the wall of the tunnel to avoid being blown back down the way I came. To my dismay, I also notice that the pressure is slowly rising.

They must have sealed the impact hole where my capsule hit the station. That was awfully quick.

But there is no time to think further about it, since the Nano-Worker breaks through to the other side, followed by a second one.

I follow them onto a wide corridor and realize a moment too late that the gravity in this part of the station is still active. With gravity taking hold of me, instinct takes over and I flip in the air, landing with my feet on what I thought to be the ceiling. Without the uncanny reflexes of my body, I had almost kissed the floor face first.

G.O.D.: Aw! Too bad! Shouldn't have given you those improved reflexes.

I blink the distracting message away and try to get a grip on the situation. The disorientation lasts only for a few moments. For a second, the Nano-Worker's ability to cling to walls got me confused.

Around me, several aliens are lying on the floor, gasping for air. The pressure loss wasn't complete, but it was enough to incapacitate most of the crew on this deck. Ignoring the writhing bodies, I follow the procession of drones which are pouring out of the hole in the ceiling.

With access to the map, they know exactly where to go, since they already have a set of commands to follow. Silith and I planned for several possible events, and as long as nothing unforeseen happens I don't need to micro-control the drones.

That's when I lose contact with some of the drones. The group which was making its way to the station's crew-quarters was eliminated. Snorting, I re-purpose the drones which were busy with reproduction in the crew quarters. They haven't found a suitable power line, and so the process is far too slow. At this rate, I will only get the first replacement drone after ten minutes.

By that point, I want to be already off the station. Silith is waiting one light minute away from the station. She should be already accelerating the ship. Once she receives the signal, she will warp closer and pick us up. An important point of the warp-drive is that the relative acceleration before and after engaging the warp-bubble stays the same. She will simply appear within the group of defenders. A risky move, but we have no other choice.

Annoyed, I return my attention to the problem at hand. Why don't they run good power-lines through every part of the structure? Ah, stupid question. It's probably because they were afraid of exactly what I tried to do... spamming them with an endless supply of drones.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

With that part of the plan a failure, I order the drones to leave the warehouse and to spread as much chaos as possible.

The map says that the subject's quarters are down this corridor, right next to a security checkpoint. Tunnelling through several decks saved me some time. I run past seemingly normal living quarters. They were emptied out because of the impact.

The seeming casualness of the place doesn't surprise me since I was held in a similar environment. The way this works disturbs me. As long as the prisoners don't know that they are being held captive, they don't even try to flee.

Are the people who are in charge doing it this way because they think that it's the most humane one? Or because they had bad experiences with outright imprisoning artificial intelligences?

Each room, which I get a short glimpse at, looks like an average office. Each one is a little bubble of peace and conformity, intended to demonstrate that there is nothing strange going on. They even have potted plants. Growing up in such an environment must feel perfectly safe. I know it. I felt safe until... Ouluk shot me.

When the leading drone suddenly blasts apart, I know that the little detail about the security checkpoint wasn't a joke. The drone had reached a bend in the corridor when it was attacked, so I can't see what's awaiting me.

So far, everything went relatively smoothly. Maybe it's because my drones caused distractions in other parts of the station.

Lamenting the fact that my element of surprise is lost, I send my drones forward and follow.

What I find around the bend are ten guards in heavy armour. Their suits hide their identities well, but they all seem to belong to the same species. Humanoid in shape, they are about as large as I am. Aside from thick arms with three fingers on the hand, they have a set of smaller limbs protruding from their chests. Those are probably meant for tasks which require fine manipulation, while the large arms do the heavy lifting.

Their strange physique may have advantages... or it may not. After several months of sharing a bed with Silith, I wouldn't want to miss those fine, squishy assets of hers. For some reason, I am not allowed to refer directly to them as what they are. Silith always starts complaining about how vulgar I am when I do so.

The guards are aiming their guns at me and my drones. Throwing a stun-grenade at the group, I dive back around the corner, hoping that the flash would give my drones a fighting chance.

Shots are fired, followed by a bright light and an explosion. Aiming my gun carefully around the bend, I shoot the first standing opponent, then a second one who is wrestling with one of my drones.

My swarm of Nano-Workers managed to close the distance and overwhelm four of the guards. With their cutting tools, they pose a real threat to all but the most heavily armoured opponents. Meanwhile, it takes a direct hit from a plasma gun to take one of the Nano-Workers out of commission. My little helpers keep going, even if half their legs are blasted off.

That's when one of the guards aims a strange gun and fires it at one of the workers. The machine is hit by a white goop which crawls across its armour, sinking into the machine through every chink and cranny. Smoke rises from the machine as electronics are dissolved within moments.

I keep firing and advance, hoping that my remaining workers are enough distraction to buy me the time I need. Two more guards go down, while four of my drones are taken out in quick succession. The remaining two drones jump two of the guards and I get another one who is still blinded. He must have looked directly into the flash of the grenade. That leaves the last enemy with the goop-gun untouched.

Instead of shooting it at his friends, he switches his target and aims at me.

Twisting my upper body to the side, I evade the first projectile. They are rather slow, but not slow enough to make evading them easy. My own shot hits the last guard in the chest, but he shoots three more times before he falls. Whether it was his intent, or a pure, knee-jerk reaction because of the pain, the staggered shots bait me to jumping to avoid getting hit in the left leg.

When I am in the air, the third shot goes off, aimed dead centre at my chest. Something tells me that getting hit in a vital area by this stuff isn't a nice experience.

Striking out, I bat the goop aside with the back of my hand. Flicking it, I try to get rid of the stuff. A small portion stays stuck to my skin, seeping in, dissolving it and the flesh beneath.

Screaming in pain, I use my plasma gun to shoot the downed guards, making sure that they are out of the equation. Then I step onto the chest of the guy with the goop-gun. He is still alive, if only barely. “What the hell is that stuff?” I inspect my hand and note with horror that something like grey veins are spreading from the meaty wound which remained after the dissolving property of the goop was used up.

The guard breathes stertorously, his lungs filling with that blue liquid which apparently serves as blood for his species. “What does... it matter? You... are already... dead. You just don't... know it.”

After a short moment of mind-numbing indecision, my body moves almost on its own. Somehow I am sensing that getting this stuff into my bloodstream wouldn't be good. Dropping the plasma gun, I draw my cutting tool. The blade springs out of the grip with a swipe.

The monomolecular edge which has no trouble with deck plating sears through my arm like a hot knife through butter. The infected hand and a good piece of the elbow drop on the floor next to the guard's head. I cut a little more than necessary, just to make sure that I get all of the stuff.

He just stares at me in amazement. “What kind of sick creatur-”

I bring the blade down a second time, taking his head off his shoulders. Finally, I answer the question through clenched teeth, trying to deal with the pain. I already went through too much to die because I was too squeamish to cut off my hand. “I am a survivor.”

The guards dealt with, I order my last two remaining bots to cut open the door while I look up and down the corridor. Pressing the stump of my arm into my side, I try to staunch the bleeding. Luckily, it seems like my drones in other parts of the station and the general confusion are still keeping the security off my back.

Then they are through and I step into the room. It's a small apartment, just like the one I had. Sitting on the bed is a haggard creature. She looks just like Silith when we first met. The ghost of what should be a human being. Not much more than bones, skin and a few tendons. If it weren't for G.O.D.'s stupid announcement, I wouldn't even be sure of her gender.

“What? Who are you?” she asks with a scared voice.

“We are getting out of here. I am like you. Follow me if you want to live.” I gesture for her to get up. “Quick, we are on a tight schedule.”

She rises. “Yeah, right. The messages...” she mumbles.

I step outside but don't help her. From my encounter with Silith I know well enough that even starved to the bone, we humans are stronger than the average organic. After a quick study of the map, I head back in the direction I came from. While I was inside the room, someone activated a station-wide alarm. The lights on the ceiling are flashing in blue and violet.

My charge steps out of the room and freezes upon witnessing the scene on the corridor. Dismembered guards and scrapped drones. Thanks to my minions, it doesn't even look like a proper gunfight, but like some barbaric battle with cutting weapons. Which it was.

She gasps. “What happened here?” Shocked by the scene of horror and the intestines on the ground, she remains frozen in place.

Cursing inwardly, I turn around and grab her at her upper arm, allowing the plasma gun to dangle freely from my shoulder, held only by the belt which is supposed to make it easier to carry. To my dismay, I am able to close my hand almost completely around her limb. Then I pull her with me. It's clear that unlike Silith, this one is totally clueless. They did a good job in brainwashing her.

Either G.O.D. didn't help her at all with the messages, or she didn't believe them, paying them no heed.

She simply stumbles along like a tame pet.

It's not the worst thing that could happen. Silith and I talked about this. Rescuing a willing participant would've been the best situation. Pulling someone who is in shock along is worse, but she could also be fighting me with nails and teeth.

We race through the maze of corridors which spread through the station. Once, we run into a quivering, tentacled being, but it screams and runs away. Apparently, a researcher who missed the alarm.

I lead on, following the map.

A scream alerts me to a group of guards. They are at the end of another corridor, a good fifty metres away and pointing at us. I simply ignore them and send my last two remaining Nano-Workers to distract them. Ten metres in front of us is an airlock.

We reach it and I open it, shoving my charge inside as soon as the gap is wide enough. Then I reach behind myself and pull the first rescue suit out of the straps which are holding it to my back. “Take that.”

“Wha-”

“Just hold onto it. Don't let go, no matter what.” I turn and shoot several times at the hatch which functions as the inner seal of the airlock. When I am sure that it's wedged in place and will remain open, I turn around and notice that my charge backed away from me, pressing her back against the outer hatch. Her eyes are wide with terror. It's clear what she thinks of my actions.

Smiling, I raise my hand reassuringly. “That's exactly the right spot. Simply stay there.”

Her eyes focus on the stump which I am waving at her and she starts trembling. Realizing that I made it worse, I hide the stump behind my back. Seems like I am simply not a ladies' man...

G.O.D.: Nope. That's not how you win a frail-hearted woman over. Try again! G.O.D.: New Side-Quest! The more the merrier! Win the hearts of...

I don't even bother reading it.

The first one I meet, I don't know how to deal with, and the second one clearly thinks that I am some sort of monster. Oh, let's not forget that little monster which sprung from my loins. She is already getting worse than her mother. I retrieve the second packaged suit from my back and press it against my chest.

Sighing, I press my palm against the airlock's controls and interact with the electronics. It's easy to find the right circuits and trigger the emergency charges which are supposed to open the airlock quickly.

Four little detonations destroy the hinges, freeing the whole hatch. The pressure inside the station blows the whole hatch outwards, taking the screaming woman with it. It seems like she found her voice again. Pulled outside by the venting atmosphere, I follow right behind her and activate the rescue suits with a wireless command.

Both suits unfold and the black material almost instantly closes around us, sealing shut.

They aren't really suits, but metal balloons made out of a smart material. Without power, the suits are small and tightly packaged. But if the material is under impressed voltage, it changes shape into an oval ballon which fits the size of a person just so. With the rescue beacons activated, all that's left to do is to wait for the ship to come and pick us up.

I wait anxiously and watch as the suit's power-cell is rapidly drained empty. It isn't intended to last for more than one or two minutes. Once the Haven catches us with an electromagnetic field, the power will be provided by the induced energy. It's nerve-wrecking to wait for, sealed inside this little, dark space.

Then it suddenly feels as if someone is tugging on my guts and my whole body tickles and itches, pricks and tingles as some unknown force pulls at me with immense power. Thankfully, my mind quits before I start trying to peel off my skin to get rid of this itch.