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Thread: [M] Galactic Empires II

  1. #151
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    "Can you rig a distraction, then?" Iona asked, breaking her long silence. "Something that pulls them away from us, and gives us a chance to make it to safety?"
    Plan evaluation
    Static device - deception easily discovered
    Bread crumb trail of static devices - delays discovery
    Mobile device - longer delay of discovery

    "You have suits, still. What are our odds of avoiding them by crossing the exterior hull?"
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  2. #152
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    “Sanders said they’ve tried spacewalks before and no-one’s ever come back from one.” Sayori recalled.
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  3. #153
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    "We can run a distraction." Gaea confirmed. "Its not a bad idea. But anyone we send on a distraction run. . .its practically a suicide run."

    "I'll take it." Ella said. "I'll get some volunteers, and we'll run a distraction in a different bay."

    This time it seemed like Gaea would argue, but Ella held up a hand to interject.

    "I spent too long on that damn rock to sit back now and not put my neck on the line. You've got security, Gaea. Get the job done."

    Gaea shook her head before turning to face Iona.

    "I'm not sure what a space walk would achieve. No one has ever come back from the outer hull, its probably crawling. And we'd be in full view of the monster outside."

  4. #154
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    Vez growled softly to the arguments of who would do what in order to get things done. He looked around the room and noticed nobody else volunteered to take the task. He looked around again but this time he finds one of the heavy weapons on the ground. He leans down and picks it up with one hand. It was a heavy assault weapon that was meant to be used by two people in order to operate it. The trigger was big enough for his fingers and he could hold it with both hands.

    "You all would die before reaching the tenth step." He said aloud as he turned around with the weapon. "This time. It won't be a noble human sacrifice." He said as he takes a step towards Sayori. He reaches for his neck area and pulls out a chain necklace with a tooth attached to it. He pulls hard and slowly gives it to her. "Make sure Tharos receive this. Tell him...I tried." He started walking to where the Demons were searching. Placing his mask on and hears the hissing sound confirming the helmet is on tight. "I have been waiting for a warriors' death." Then he chuckled. "It's about damn time." He growled and started running down the hall. In a distant, you can hear the sounds of gunfire and a fierce roar along with it. The sounds continued moving further away from the group. Then silence.

  5. #155
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    "Make sure Tharos receive this. Tell him...I tried."

    "We will Vez." Gaea nodded. "You're a brave man. It was an honor to have you aboard"

    "Miranda." Gaea turned to the pilot. "Join up with Sayori. Maybe we can capture two drones, and you can pilot one, like you did on the drop. Two bites of the cherry have got to be better than one."

    +++++

    The distraction team plunged into darkest halls of the Elcano. With Vez leading the way, a small handful of marines from every species aboard, with Ella in command, punched into a heavily infested nest.

    Vez started walking to where the Demons were searching. Placing his mask on and hears the hissing sound confirming the helmet is on tight. "I have been waiting for a warriors' death." Then he chuckled. "It's about damn time." He growled and started running down the hall. In a distant, you can hear the sounds of gunfire and a fierce roar along with it. The sounds continued moving further away from the group.

    "Support him!" Ella yelled. Her gun kicked in her hands as she hammered a drone to pieces. They were swarming now, coming out of the walls, ceiling and floor. Soldiers were dropping left and right, often dying in bright flashes of light as they detonated suicide charges, not willing to risk being taken prisoner. Ella pulsed her augments, throwing a wall of force down a corridor and coming up on Vezarres slumped in a pile of torn up berserkers, his clawed hands plunged deep into the guts of the horror that killed him, the two locked together in seeming death.

    "You god damn lizard! You better not die on me!" Ella roared, firing again as more monsters came swarming out of the dark. She fumbled with a syringe and thumped it into the weak spots of Vezarres scales, near his neck. It was a lethal dose of an illegal combat stimm, one she had used to get one last burst out of critically injured soldiers. For those already dead, it gave them the chance to go down swinging at full strength.

    "You have got to build a bigger pile, you scaly fuck! Don't you dare die without my permission!"

    +++++

    "Now!"

    Gaea dropped from the ceiling, catching the rear end of a small pack of in a hail of fire. Tris emerged from a covered position, draped in torn of wall panels and heat masking fabric. Their guns each pulped a hunter drone as Sayori stepped out of cover, Winters at her shoulder carrying a battery power pack and her own customized shotgun.

    Sayori aimed the . . . weapon. Which was generous way of saying a complex, multi-spectrum emitter designed to transmit to and manipulate electronics at range. Cronus, the instance in Sayori's head, called it an effector for short. While the initial module that Sayori had built had been small and easy to handle, to get it ready for the field with the components they had, it had grown in size and weight, but Sayori had been able to handle it easily.

    The air wavered, shimmered, and the two hunters caught in the cone of the effect spasmed as if they were being electrocuted.

    Almost. . .

    Like puppets with their strings cut, they slumped forwards. Then, tentatively, their suborned electronics quested outwards with identifier signals to Sayori, requesting instructions and new IFF codes.

    You'll need to work fast The instance of Chronus sounded almost smug. Lets hope Miranda, Nevarn and the good Doctor Kolvar are prepped in the bay for the next stage.

  6. #156
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    "You all would die before reaching the tenth step." Vez said aloud as he turned around with the weapon. "This time. It won't be a noble human sacrifice."

    He took a step towards Sayori. He reached for his neck area and pulled out a chain necklace with a tooth attached to it. He pulled hard and slowly gives it to her. "Make sure Tharos receive this.”


    Sayori took the ornament wordlessly, the thick chain pooling in her cupped hand. She had expected it to feel heavier, though perhaps that was Chronus’ augmentations at work.

    You look like a warrior now. she remembered Vez saying. It was perhaps not the sort of compliment that she would have sought, but the Dragonoid had always been gentle with her - in stark contrast to Miranda and Stef.

    She looked up, still feeling almost like a child next to the hulking Dragonoid.

    “I will.” she promised him, curling her other hand around the thermal pistol that he had given her.

    “Tell him...I tried."

    "We will Vez." Gaea nodded. "You're a brave man. It was an honour to have you aboard."

    Vez placed his mask on and a hissing sound confirmed that the helmet was on tight. "I have been waiting for a warriors' death." Then he chuckled. "It's about damn time."

    + + + + +

    Like puppets with their strings cut, they slumped forwards. Then, tentatively, their suborned electronics quested outwards with identifier signals to Sayori, requesting instructions and new IFF codes. She felt it as a soft but insistent pricking; almost plaintive, but it still put her in mind of a centipede crawling up the back of her neck.

    You'll need to work fast. The instance of Chronus sounded almost smug. Lets hope Miranda, Nevarn and the good Doctor Kolvar are prepped in the bay for the next stage.

    Yes, lets.

    Where once Sayori would have needed a computer and a telemetry cable, now she only had to think. Chronus had molded its new augmentations around her existing experiences with drones, although at times it felt as if the instance was already half a step ahead of her. She would have to ponder the implications of that later.

    Designate friends. she mouthed, and saw strange, mottled UV ghost-images superimposing themselves over the faces she was forming in her mind’s eye. The Hunters emitted blurts of hissing radio noise, crouching low with clawed hands splayed.

    “Woah.” Gaea cursed, snapping her gun up.

    “Wait.” Sayori threw out a hand to forestall her. “It’s alright. They think you’re other Berserkers. Threat displays, like Davrry said.”

    The Berserkers played invisible beams of EM over Gaea, tagged her rifle and the field emitters in her armour, and backed down.

    While the Elemental hovered warily, Sayori edged forward a step and twitched her fingers out towards the two Hunters. She hesitated. Beaming her thoughts directly to another mind was everything she had once dreamed of accomplishing, but brushing against the minds of the Berserkers felt like dragging her fingers across the surface of a cold, oily pool, with something pale and predatory lurking beneath the slimy waters.

    No time. Chronus warned.

    Sayori held her breath.

    A map of computer code unfurled in fractals before her eyes, almost as if her link visor was back in place. As the real world blurred away behind it, she recognised the familiar-unfamiliar architecture of the Berserkers’ minds - the messy, snowflake-unique web of evolutionary routines; the semi-conscious system it had been crudely sutured on top of. Driven down through both was an ominous black hole of code, the architecture for Zeus’ direct override of either system. Like Chronus had said, its children had guarded their creations against repeating their own patricide.

    A day ago the conflicting mashes of code would have been as incomprehensible to Sayori as they had been to Cicero and Garrick. Now she could see the code webbed over the original system as it really was - burrowing, parasitic, spreading like a cancer - it made her physically sick. It was a digital reflection of the same design philosophy that had built the Collectors, and Zeus’ other biomechanical puppets: a Frankenstein’s monster stitched together by an intellect that was vast and cold and unsympathetic, valuing disposable ferocity and little else. By rights the AI beneath Zeus’ code should have rivalled a Sentinax beta unit, but it had been starved and crippled - leeched of processing power and decision agency by the systems grafted over it.

    What were you before? She hoped that none of the others would think to ask that question. She didn’t want to give them the answer.

    The parasitic code webbed over the Hunter’s original system was as pervasive and shapeless as a cancer, spreading out in twisting fingers that dead-ended or branched as the computer learned and re-learned through new sensory data and a trial-and-error of experimental programs. Even the programming languages that the two Hunters had developed were markedly different, converging only in the essential systems for communication. Chronus led Sayori down through the spirals, highlighting the subroutines she needed.

    Codes and programming language that she had never known blitzed past in a thought, enacting the simple, subtle changes she needed to make to the Hunters’ learned behaviours. QEM renewal protocol: locate Collector unit, cancel search for closest unit, proceed to Zeus core levels, commence search.

    She shifted to the override architecture driven like a steel spike into the Hunters’ brains, teasing it apart and adding as many dead-end routines and meaningless feedback loops as she dared.

    Hurry. Chronus urged her.

    Sayori jumped back to the IFF protocols and tethered the two Hunters to herself with a simple set of follow and report commands.

    “Doc?”

    Her lungs were burning. Sayori gasped out the breath she hadn’t realised that she had been holding, and scrunched eyes that had become dry and painful from a solid minute without blinking. Binary afterimages smeared and swam across her vision.

    “I’m fine.” Sayori coughed, sucking down air. She gestured painfully at the Hunters. “They’ll follow us back to the cryo deck. I’ve established an ongoing link, but if Zeus ever figures out what we’re doing he can override me.”

    “Can you lock him out?” Gaea asked. “Use Cissy’s self-rewriting code or something?”

    Sayori shook her head. “For one I might need to change their behaviour on the fly, and for another Zeus could see the code as soon as he connected and might start replicating it for himself. I’ve thrown as much shit as I could in the way of his backdoor access point, but it won’t stall him for long.”

    Gaea turned on her heel, powered armour thrumming as she moved. “Then we’d better hustle back to the cryo bay.”
    Last edited by Azazeal849; 04-09-2020 at 06:46 AM.
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  7. #157
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    Vez felt his heart beating faster than most. His eyes felt the rushed as he moved back to his feet and his roar fierce as the walls shook. He quickly looked around and struck a few more demons to the ground ripping them apart with his bare hands. He noticed one of the dead soldiers didn't activate his detonator. He glances around and sees Ella still firing her weapon. At that point he noticed a conduit was leaking fuel cells. He growled softly and grabbed the explosives and the detonator from the dead soldier and a hook with a long cable that was attached to a wall. He rushed towards Ella and placed the hook on her armor and pushed her away from the conduit.

    "For Draconia!!!!" He roared as he rushed into a group of demons that blocked his path. Holding the explosives close to his chest he pushed through the pack until he was close enough to press the detonator in his other hand. The explosion was big, loud and created a hole in the hull.

    +++++

    Winters felt a sudden shook that was far off. "That's not good." Though in her mind she knows it had to do with Vez and the others. Watching them rush to buy time was something she wanted to volunteer. Though knowing the big guy he would probably say something to convince her to stay. And so she did. Following the doctor with a battery power pack. Though it made it uncomfortable while carrying her shotgun. After everything had happened she stayed near the doctor while she looked worse for wear. She can't shake the feeling whatever was ahead of them in the cryobay was gonna be a lot harder then leaving the ship. She placed more shells in her weapon and cocks it swiftly. "I'll blow a hole in it's for ya doc. Let's move." She helped Sayori up on her feet and helped her move while she catches her own breathe.

  8. #158
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    The team worked fast. They didn't have much choice about that.

    With Sayori's guidance, they installed repeaters and transmitters to the carapaces of the hunter drones. These should, theoretically, mean that Sayori's and Miranda's control signal would overpower and drown out anything but a fully directed attack by Zeus.

    Payload was a bit trickier. The first device that had cracked 50 megatons of explosive force back on old earth was the Tsar bomba, and that had weighed somewhere in the region of 27 metric tons. Advances in payload, delivery and materials had reduced the current state of the art to 2.7 metric tons.

    That was still very heavy.

    "We got the whole payload down to 1000 kilograms. But. . . there are some compromises." Nevarn looked nervously at the skeletal frame with welded on handholds that ominously hummed and creaked. Someone had welded it onto a pallet truck.

    "That’s something of an understatement." Cicero dryly stated in what could have been interpreted as sarcasm.

    "We had to strip the casing, the redundant magnetic shielding on the antimatter bottle, and the secondary triggers. Impact compensators are gone. Second stage accelerant is also gone. It drops the payload and penetrative power of the device. . .and if this frame is struck, or jostled, there is a high chance carbon antimatter will strike the edge of the carbon bottle. The microfilm around each carbon molecule will shatter, you'll get a release of heat and light into the chamber, burning away more of the microfilm while pushing the antimatter into matter, the reaction will take off, and then. . . ."

    "English, Navarn." Miranda snapped as she struggled into the control rig.

    "If this stripped down death trap takes any kind of damage, it will instantly detonate. If it does that on the Elcano, we all die."

    ++++++

    The two hunters advanced, hefting the tonne payload between their metallic frames. In the cryobay, Miranda and Sayori sat back to back, focusing on issuing a tight stream of instructions to the subverted Berserkers. Winter, Gaea, Iona and Nevarn stood guard.

    It was nerve racking. The bay was close to the breach points used by Zeus, and they were constantly detecting other drones nearby. Kolvar and Cicero watched telemetry translated onto their equipment, monitoring their progress and issuing directions to Miranda and Sayori.

    "Nearly there." Kolvar breathed. "You're both doing great."

    "Feels different from a drone." Sayori commented through clenched teeth.

    Sometimes a drone would mistranslate a haptic or a mind impulse and lock up; filtering those same impulses through the hunters’ fingerprint-unique fractals of emergent behaviour caused them to spasm and skitter if they were told to do anything more complex than move in a given direction. Before long Sayori had to strip off her gloves and reach out with the transmitter Chronus had melded into her to correct the hunter’s routines on the fly, letting Miranda’s hunter set the pace while she attended to the more delicate task of keeping the payload stable.

    The constant stream of code feedback swirled weirdly over her vision, blurring her visor image of claw-raked corridors and shadow-haunted modules. Around them, smaller, bug-like berserkers halted, assessed the threat of the two hunters, and skittered up the walls to give them and their cargo a wide berth. Once a collector rippled past them, slithering on lobstered metal plates. The hunter twitched towards it, seeking the antimatter reload that their diagnostics required, but the new programming held and kept them on track towards the mothership.

    "Is that it?" Sayori asked as they approached the torn ruin of a storage deck.

    "Confirmed. Visual on Zeus breach point." Cicero said softly. "We approach the Alpha itself."

    ++++++

    The deck around them was slowly leaking air into the void. Plastic sheets and tatters of cloth fluttered in the breeze.

    The spike was hollow, and easily wide enough for the hunters to pass four abreast. It had been punched through with massive force, buckling deck plates and deforming walls. Cables hung from ceiling ducts, and the mouth of the spike was dark, unlit. They gingerly stepped across, both women sweating despite the chill of the cryobay as their sleeved drones carefully manhandled the payload across the broken deck.

    Gravity faded, and both breathed a sigh of relief. It was easier to move the payload smoothly through the air, their drones clambering hand over foot along the wall of the spike. It reminded them of the caverns on the surface, machined metal etched with fractal patterns.

    Radiation began to spike. The darkness deepened. Air rushed past them, like something huge breathing.

    Finally, they crossed the spike, and entered the belly of the beast.

    ++++++

    "Transmission is still clean." Cicero confirmed. "We are getting solid telemetry back."

    "Contact!" Gaea yelled. "Tell them to hurry! Winter, Nevarn, we have to hold them as long as we can!"

    "Hurry." Cicero said. "Get as deep as you can. Detonate here and you'll cripple us. Get deeper, find the core."

    "Copy." Sayori slurred quietly. The voices were becoming distant, the splotchy UV of the hunter’s vision beginning to overlap her own as she dived deeper into the Berserker’s AI, having to close off more and more subroutines as they lit up from proximity to the mothership. In the back of her mind she could feel Cronus fighting to tune and scrub their control signal as the hunters moved deeper into the radiation-washed core of its wayward son.

    There was nothing that looked critical, that looked fragile. Nothing that looked like a central brain or control centre, even a munitions bay or fuel tank. It was an endless, twisting warren of tunnels and chambers, all the same, all disturbingly empty, all horrifyingly full of monsters. The ship shifted around them, the walls alive and crawling.

    There was an increasing sense of pressure: of something trying to focus on them, look at them, narrow its perception enough to comprehend two very small, very tiny things. Sayori wondered if this was what a bacteria felt under a microscope.

    Bacteria can kill.


    ̶̨̣̙̙͈͉̒̓͛̈́̌̎̇̀͠͝Ç̴̨̧͙͖̦͉̄̅̎̀̌̒̓͛ͅH̸̖̺̳̪̺̖̔̊Ì̸̏̚ ͇̤̙͈̺̳̝̰̱̀́̉̏͘L̷̡̼͚̜̮͇̰̲̎͌ͅD̷̼̠̥̮̗̠̬̎̊̎ͅR̷̞̂̀́̈́̎̍͝ ̲̤̮E̶̫̓̊̈́̐N̷̢̳̹̲̥͉̎


    The voice was like cold water running down the inside of Sayori’s skull.


    ̵̮̯̪̋̋̍̎̓̐W̸̝̲̒Ḩ̴̮͉̝̟͕̟̖̟͂͐̈͌̎̾͂̈́͝͝Å̶̧̝͠T̵̔̋̊͝͝͝ ͈̫̯ ̸̢̫͉͕̲̳́̎Ḧ̸̡̢̛͖̖́̈͆̎̄̀́͘̚Ȧ̶̧̼̬̼͚̲͚̥̰̊̎͆̔V̸͂̈́̇̚̚͝͝ ̢̘͙̭̠̗̞̣̐͜Ẻ̸̡͇̖̬̗̟̥̳̓́̊͆ͅͅ ̷̨̰̼̀̽͋̓̓͌̇̂́͠Y̶̡̝͎̤͋̇̾̌͘̚O̵̡̭͕̠̙͔̲͋́͆̿́ͅÛ̸̎̑͑̐̆͘ ̗̣̺ ̶̢͑̏̇̍̑́̏̇͠B̵͍̭̎͊͝͠R̸͕̙̮̖̙̜̤͚̋̈́͌͊̿́͋͘͝͝O̸̽̍̓͗͛̇́̓͝ ̛͚Û̵̧̯̫̻͇̹͚̦̂̄͛̏̇͑̾̚͜G̴͎͎̊̓̈́H̵̯̤̥̱͇͔͚̀̒͊͠Ṫ̶̈́ ͈͎̰̲ ̸̡̲̜͚̱̜̖͖͔́̈́̏͋̀̀̋̇ͅM̴̥̀E̶̙̥͉̪̱͓͝?̶͙̘̹͗̐̍̾͝


    The thought tried to lock into the override architecture of the two drones, but glanced off, redirected by Sayori's hacks.

    "Run." Sayori urged aloud, the word like a bullet through the cryo bay.

    They moved faster as around them the berserker drones began to stir, regarding them, testing them. Traffic spiked as dozens of IFF pings hit the drones. The hunter’s brain lit up under Sayori’s fingertips, spiraling with conflicting orders for threat and friend. They faltered.

    Suddenly, Cicero was there, in the code with her. He took over some sub-systems, throwing his subordinate programs at problems as they arose.

    +Focus. Focus and hurry. We don't have much time.+


    ̶̨̣̙̙͈͉̒̓͛̈́̌̎̇̀͠͝Ç̴̨̧͙͖̦͉̄̅̎̀̌̒̓͛ͅH̸̖̺̳̪̺̖̔̊Ì̸̏̚ ͇̤̙͈̺̳̝̰̱̀́̉̏͘L̷̡̼͚̜̮͇̰̲̎͌ͅD̷̼̠̥̮̗̠̬̎̊̎ͅR̷̞̂̀́̈́̎̍͝ ̲̤̮E̶̫̓̊̈́̐N̷̢̳̹̲̥͉̎


    The voice boomed again. It hammered them. The drones froze in something approaching fear. It was a struggle to override the response. Sayori felt like she was applying spurs to a panicking horse, to make it jump through the fire. Miranda lost control of her drone as it froze out completely.

    With a last gasp of effort, Sayori lunged. Her drone slammed into the floating bomb and pushed it through a final door before it irised closed, leaving her floating in a vast, central chamber. Zeus’ interrogating signals crawled all over her, pushing into the hunter’s AI past her layers of dead ends.


    S̸̡͓̋̋̿̅͋͝U̵̪͒͌B̴̭̜̗̓́͜͝͝ͅV̵̦̍͋͐͆͠Ẻ̶̥̰̙͚̗̭̫̦̻͊R̷͝ ͍̦S̷̛͓̤͕̼̫͉̲͎̗̈́͝I̶̬̓̇O̸͕̫͛̅̐͂͜Ṉ̸̹̖́̇͗͝.̶͍̞͌͑̇͛̕̕͠ ̭͕ ̴̢̫̃̄̽̈̅̒ ̶̡̳̐F̸̥̰̤̌̉̈͌A̶̟͒͆͗T̷͖͕͙͓͙̩͕̜͙̼̊͛̓̆͂H̶̡͕̣̥͍̲̐́̓̇̀͝ E̸̮͊̀̇̊̍̅͐͋̅͋Ȑ̷̲̱͓͙̰̓̒͗̀̊̾̕̚͝.̴͚̟̞̘͓̫̯̗̅͐̔͛ ̴̟̜̣͙̭̜͎̃̾̾̑̽̌̈́͊̚͝ͅ ̸̨̧͉̱͔̮̠̑͑̈́̓͆͛̊̔̚Ỳ̷̢̧̢̧̖͓̻̳͈̅̿͋͝ͅÒ̷̝͎̞̟̲̣͇̬͆͐̇̔̄ ͕U̷̪͕̣̤͇̤͇̗̦̪͛̃̕ ̸̹̜̠̻̥͈͓̪͙͊͊̓̇̐Ḩ̶̞̖̗̳̟̬̒̒͌̋̚͠A̷̺̺̙̩̟͊͂͒̾̈́͊̈́̓́V̶̹̍ ͇̪̝̤E̵̺̎̂́̊̋̓̈́ ̶̪̩̠͕̘̲͔̫̥̽̍̈̚P̷̩͓̗̀̔̈̾̃̑̃̂͠R̶͇̲͖͚̗͓̞͎͙͌̔̐̆̈͝ͅO̷̓͗ ̟̞͖̗̮͈͋͒́V̶̢̧͔̖̲̖̖̓̓E̵͔̯̮͖͇̓͝D̸͔͍̍ ̷̨̥̻̩͍̞̔́̄͆̀̄̒̌̚C̷̲̎̔Ļ̷̘͙̘̱̹̟̰̖̇̂̿͘͝Ě̷̟͍͒̀̇͗̚V̶͑ ̱͋̉̓̈̀Ę̵̧̱̝̭͔̘̬͖̼̐͒̏̈́̊͆͝R̵͕̜̩̈́͑̌̈́͗́̉͒̒͜͠ ̸̙̖͖̤̔̒̿́̿̆̂͘̚͜T̸̗̮͉͇̽͂̋̀O̸͚͊̐͋͠ ̵͉̻̘̦͓͌́̔̉̌̈́̔̉͐̅͜U̷͇̙̣̟̭̟͋̋̇̓͛͊ͅS̷̢̫̖̬̺̲͙̪̚Ę̶̳̣̭̃ ̜̳ ̴͍͇͓̻̉T̸̨̛͓͖̺̊̉̊H̶̟͋̔Ȩ̸̭̫̌S̸̜͚̙̟̜̠̩͕̑̈̒́̉̂̚͜Ë̶́̓͐ ͚͚̬̭̗̩̲͎̇ ̴͍͖̇͆C̵̨͉͉̭̭̬̤̖̕R̷͕̞͊̑̐͐̽̉̿́̀̚A̵̠̥͈͍͉̿̐̈́͆́͠W̶͛̉͊̓̆ ͙̝͇̞͔L̴̡̠̰͉̈̈̀̆̿Ī̵͖̟̞̗̩̣̻̃͜ͅṈ̸̨̬̙̺̝̰̖̼̝̉̀̃̅̀̋G̷͘ ̡̙̬̠̤ ̵̨͉̙̪̼̣̹̞̭͊͆̌͘T̵̗̝̞̥̫̻̺̣̄̈̓̅H̶̡͚̠̪̥͚͔͗̓͑͌̒̆͊̒͂͆Ĭ̴ ̲̩͊̄̊͑́͗Ņ̶̟̄̃͠G̴̛̤͉̞͋̍͘ͅS̴͕̻̦̠̻̲͂͌͊̌̾̓͌̈͘.̸̆̓͊̆̊̃ ̪̪͉̣̬͊́̇͂͜ͅ ̶̛̘͚͓͔̈́̋̉̎̈ ̸̢̮̭̘͍̒Ṭ̵͕̙̅̒̎́O̶͇̘̲͋̊͜͜ ̸͉͌Ẹ̷̖̙̲̦̺̫̍̆͋̂́͐S̷͇͉͓̖̙̀̄C̴̫̖̜͕̀̃͊̕Ą̸̀͛̕P̸͓̮͋́͠ ̳͍̘̜͍E̸̡̯̱͎͍̓͌͒̔̚ ̸̢̥̦͇͕͛̂̌̐͆̓Y̷̟̤̏̉Ö̵̳̦͙̬̞͈́̍̾̿̕͜ͅƯ̷̭͔͓̝͚̗̱̺̩̋̅͜R̸ ̢̩͉͓̫̦̐͊͑͑́̽̉͘̕͝ ̸̭̺͇̾̒̉̒̈́̎̓̍P̷̟̪̗̰̙̖̜̯͔̿͊̎R̴̘̮̂̈́̍̋̈Ḯ̸͔Ṡ̸̡͕̝͇̮̯̋O ̸̣̣̹̹̗̗̥̮͍̿̂̓̿̌͗́̋̄̈Ṇ̵̨͔͇̮̗͎͉͙͐̃̓͒.̵̧̖͕̹͚̠̘͂̄͗͆͊͝ ͍̲̬
    ̴̡̱̩͒̽̂̂̎́̉͝͝

    The hunter fell still, drifting as Sayori retreated inside its processors to throw up new firewalls and sandbox quarantines. Cicero worked around her, a blitzing stream of binary purpose. It was faster than her; more deft, more capable. Cicero was a creature of light and data; she was merely an organic imitation.

    Zeus was faster and stronger and smarter than both of them. She could feel its hunter instinct, cold and implacable.


    ̸̼͊͛͝Í̴̙͇̹̓̇͆̀̒̏̅͘ ̶̡͖̙̗̻̓̾̀̀͋̒̚͠Ẁ̴͚̫͎͍͇̘͔̗̰̅͆͆̏̂͝Į̶̘̘͔̤͐̍̑̍́́͠L̴̊͑ ̧̡̫̥̼̰̹̙̊́͜Ĺ̸̮̫̤̮̹͔͚̗̺̀͑̎̀͌͆ ̶͈̥̪̙̯͓̍̎̓̕F̶̘́̀͌̓̈́̍͜Ĭ̸̢̪̏̓̏̊͗̎̈͌͜Ņ̶̩̎̈́̉̆͘D̴́͋͒̈́ ̡̘̤̮̞̜͉̻̺̺̈́ ̴͖͈̽̆́͑̕Y̸̼̟̙̟͘O̶̡͔͚̠̬̟̼̫͂̓̒͠U̷͇̿̋̈͘Ŗ̶̩͇̼̺̻̇̉͒̾̓͝ ̤̦ ̶̙͇͈̦̥̹̘̈́̿̋̂̐̆̂́̚̚ͅH̶͔̞͉͐̒͋̾͒̔̀̄͘̚Ơ̶̮̮̓̎̍̉̔͌͑̈́̕S̸ ̨̡̨̢͍̼̜̫̣́̅͗̇̄̄̂͑͘͠Ţ̵͚͚̙͓̯̗͑͊̔̌͝ ̴̬͔͙̰̪͎̠͕͐̈́̔͝͝Ǡ̵̛̹̳͍̩͂̿̈́͜͜͜N̷̡̟͉̜͎͌͐͜D̴̯̯̽̏̚ ̘̮̤͍ ̷̦̻̀̇̃̒̃͗̚P̴̢̠̫͍̙̲͝ͅŔ̸̡̫̲̬͇͎̖́̔͘Y̷̳͙̫̠̬͆̉̀̌̽̓͆̕̕͠ ̪͇̪̜̺ ̴̛̭͋̇͗͊̌Ÿ̸̻̣̟̻̥̙́̈́̏̐̈̀̔͆̆͘Ǫ̴̺̮͎̰̟͈̩̈́̈̚Ù̸̢̜̃̿ ̢͉̩ ̵̧͎͎̘͇̞̬̹̜̇F̶̘͍̼͈̖̤̦̪̖̀́̎̏͜R̸̯̗̅̃͛̀O̶̡̥̦͕͂̒M̸̄͋̽͘͝ ̢̯͇̦̋͘͝ ̵̨̤̟̪͍͔̪̎̒̈̿̐̀̔ͅĨ̸̮̺̰̯̥̹̙̓͒̅͝͠T̵͎͕͓̋̋̓̈́͘͝͝S̶̡̠̠̥̿ ̢͉̬͈͓̱ ̸̛͈̰̣̲̱̞͖͍͓̙̈͊͑̍̈͐͘̚͝M̸̘̔̍͘Ę̶̅̚A̵̛̞̼̟͚̼̔͐̅̐̀̍͘͝T̶ ͇͇͖̻̟͚̼̮̬͐͜.̷̧̣̼͈̓̄̑͒͒͑̑̚͝ ̴̨̫̿ ̴̞̺̦̱͌̍ͅA̶̧͎͇̖̥̭̱̮̪̍̂̍̅̿͋Ņ̸͎͎̻̬̜̣̼̯̳͑͂͊̽̓̐̿Ḑ̵̥̈́͝ ͕̫ ̸͍͈̭̼͖̬͈̈́̈Ý̸̛͉̣̹̫͑̈́O̶̧̩̗̮͓͙͕͓͈͋͆̎̾̀̈̍̔͋͜Ư̶̧̇̏͑͌͘ ̗̭̻͕͇ͅ ̷͇̲̺̞̥̼̰͎̐̈́̽̒̋͒͛͒̚ͅẀ̴̨̱̪͚̣̓̈́̊Ḭ̶̧̟̬̥̉̒̃͋̈͑͘͜͠L̸͙̄ ̫̻̹͓̥Ļ̶̧̪̠̬̼̗̝̗̎ ̶̢̺̉̾̓͝S̶̡̥̤̺̠̱̰̗̲̱̽̃͒́̿̓̋͗Ų̷̳̟͚̙͚͍͎̦͂̃̏̊F̸̆̑̓̽̀̿ ̤̘̳̙͜F̴͙̩̭̋͛E̴͖͖̽͑́̑͑̉̅͛́̑R̶̠̗͈̟̀̏͆̓͘.̸͎̎̿͛̆͌͐̒͊͝͝ ̥͖͎̤̰͚̰


    Sayori and Cicero were fighting now, fighting hard, to keep Zeus out of the hunter. It spasmodically swam through the air under the imperative of its last command, pushing the bomb further into the vast, empty space. Sensor readings began to filter back to Kolvar, even as the signal began to degrade.

    "Gods above." the greying Kel’Cyre breathed.

    "Faces." Sayori’s physical lips whispered, half a curse and half a whimper.

    This chamber was different. Hanging from the walls and ceiling, floating in zero gravity, tethered by endless cables and wires, the rest of the ship’s Sentinax were knitted together, interspersed with the more heavily modified of the missing crew, stitched into a twitching mass, with Hekatonkles wired into the centre. His flat arrow-shaped head flared with light and turned to face the suborned drone.

    Sayori felt it like the spike of a nail being driven into her head, a white flash of pain that set motes of static fulgurating across her layered vision. Instinct overrode her conscious thought and she shied away, trying to break her connection with the hunter as she might wrench her hand away from a piece of white-hot metal. The connection remained open.

    While they fought to keep Zeus out of the override architecture, it had found the signal stream Sayori was using to control the hunter and leaped onto it, ravening across the void between the two ships and straight into her own head. She could feel it flashing behind her eyes, thundering in her ears, thrashing around her head in a storm of barbed code as it homed in on the Cronus instance.

    T̶̩̟̠͇̗̬̥̭͎̜͆̂̓̅̅͋H̷͍̀Ẹ̸̫̒͌͑̇̅̃̾S̴͖͖̩̦͇̥̀̌͊͗͛̕E̸̓ ̗̜͚̟̝͚̤̣̘̪ ̴̠̺͚̺̾͗͝͠S̶̗̔͛È̶̝̩̬̼̑̋̇͒̈́N̶̨͉̲̗͈͖̗̑͑̅́̋͌͜ͅT̸͓͛̀̓̐ ͓̖͙̳̝̟̗̼ͅİ̷̡͓̣͐̎̾̈́̊͌̚͜Ǹ̴͕̹̗̘̼͉̝̌̊͑̊̂͌̈́̂̽A̷͛͋͆̒͑ ̧̼̗̱̻̝͖͊́̂̀ͅX̶̪̿̄͊̾͒̈́ ̸̘͗́̈́̎͑́̑͂H̷̡̩̥̘͙̯̭̰̥̔̈͌̀͜͠A̴̮̘̪̩̠͌͐̈́͑̽̚V̸̳̹͍̗̐͛̎͆ ̡̼̘̜ͅͅE̷̛̪͕͓̅̈́́̎̌͋͒̋͝ ̵̣̥̥̲̗̈́̀̉̕ͅS̴͉̞͓͔̏̐̎̀͜H̶̙̟͍̟̬̥̻̹̒̑͜͜Ò̷̧̼͎̲̖̤̄͌̉̈́̊ ̡͎̯̙W̶̰̪̹̤̎̓̐̆̄N̵̨͕͕͔̱͇̑͑̽ ̷̣̳͈̔̐M̵̢̫̮̻̲̪͒̈̇̚E̸̠͚̺̩̮̬̙̼̟͐̆̄͒ ̵͖͎̻̰̩̲͍̔̐̓M̸̡͚͙̰͚̻̖̻̘̖̈̀͊͆Ü̴̗̞͍Ç̶̢̩̠͕͍̦̝͍̆́̋̽̕̕ H̸̟̒̉͊͂̅̍̔̂͝͠,̷̲̬͖̌͌̓ ̸̢̩̞̟͇̕͠F̸̰̝͇͌̈́͌͌̏̏́̿͂̓A̷̢̡̻̗̫̫̹͂͑̔̄̑̆͝T̷͔͎̀͊̀́̈̌͝ ͇H̴̡̙̥̩͚̰̟̼̬̄̂͐̊̇̓͜Ȩ̶̱͙͉̩̰̦͑̽̉͋͗͌R̶̗̼͊̀̅́̀͘͘ͅ.̸͐͑ ̡̢̫̤̦͍̬͉͌̎̈͝ͅ ̶̥̻̳̝͈̻̜̦͖̠͊̄̓̓̚ ̶͍̯̻͖̯̪͉̆ͅĄ̷͉̗͍̬̞͉̉̄̇̅́ ̷̥̲̫̰̐̃̓G̵͇̈̽̕A̸̢̬̜͎̻͙͍̽̀̑̈͂̀͒̚ͅĻ̵̹̖̦̠͈̊̏̉̆͋ͅÄ̶͝ ̦̄X̸̧̗̗̤̃̈́̎͌̈Ỵ̶̧̡͎͓̯̭̺̤̈̂̒̄̃͗̋̕͠ ̵̞́͑̊̔̑́̃͆͝ͅO̶̠̎F̵̳̫̱̳̣̯̦̫͑̂̈́̏͛͛ ̴̡̛̩͙̠͈͊̒͝P̵̠̀̾̽̓̍̉̆̚͘R̴̬͇̖̄͂̚͜Ẹ̸̓Y̵̛͙͕̫̳̤̣̍̈̌̎͘͠ ͓.̴͇̿͝͠ ̷̨͇̭̲͎̣͚̜̓̓͑͌̉͌̐̓̅


    Sayori could hear gunfire battering distantly, but Gaea and the others fighting to keep the Berserkers out of the cryo bay seemed remote and inconsequential compared to the battle now raging inside her own skull. All of Cronus’ knowledge was useless, helpless to defend her from the murder-red glare of the Berserker leader.


    ̵̛̬̘̇T̸̨̜̫̍̏̿̏̄̂̓͠͝H̷̢̘̼̄͊̔̋̔͋̑̈̊E̵̛̼͇͇̬͈̽̇̍̊͌͑͆̄̒ ̞̥ ̸̡̡̟̹̗̼̟͈̣͌̈́̐͝Ẁ̶̡̜̘̰͍̰̠̳̘̭Ṏ̶̡͈͙̣̦͉̙̀̕R̸̛̋̓̽̈́̓̈́̒ ̺̮͉̥͍͖̯͖K̶̢̧̳͖̦͍͙͍̬̒͌̎̽̈́̒̌̾͝S̵̨͖̖̠̹̓̆̄̌ ̴̡̢̜̖̺͍̗́̓͋̑O̶͉̮̝̪̽F̸̛͇̄̏̚͝ ̷̢̡̨̝̲͖͈̼̱̈́̽͜T̷̮̀̅H̶̨̩̺̜̹̞͎̦͕̃̈̈̂̉̓̕E̷̮̠̰̼̎̒̄̏̾̋̕͝ ͎̤ ̴̞̳͂̒̎̔̀́͌͘C̵̡̯̥͔̣̜̥͛̈͒͑͘͘͠R̵̨̡̹̙͚͈̠̼̦̺̽̒̇̈́̿̑̇́E̴̍ ͍̳̩̫̻͚̎̒̓A̴̤̋̀̆͜T̸̨̠͌̓̉̇̽͂͆̍̊O̷̭̻̱̾̾̀̀̚Ṛ̸̊S̵̈͊͛̎͝ ̡̨͉̹̦̟̙̙̬͋͌̉͘̕,̷̨̣͙̻̬̙̰̗̇̿ͅ ̴̧̛͔͕̅́͊̂̈́̏̌͐̇Ǫ̵̛̘̭̩̼͖̱̼̩̬͂̐̆̃̒̌͘͠͝C̴͉̆̎́̅̉̌́̚͘͠ͅ ͙̥C̶̟̘͔̦̥͎̀̋L̷̫̗͈͇̖̳̙͋͐̈́̀͋̓̒̈́͜͝U̴̢͓̝͉̺̍D̴̨̺̣̯̟̣̱̀ E̴̦͙̠̦̫̐̌̉̀Ḑ̶͇̼͎̮͔̪̀͆̂̑̔͛̉͝ ̴͇͙̺̠͔̈́̋̈̆̓͛͒͝F̶̮͕͐̆̀̎̎̊̽̅͌͠Ṛ̸̨̝̾̒͗́̚ͅO̸̐͐́̄̃̒̽̚͝ ̰̳͕̘̤͚̻̰̬̟Ṁ̶̛̱̖̈́̆̔ ̴̧̟̰̼̥̮̏̌Ŭ̸̘̗̈́S̶͙͎̙̟̰̦̭̙̃̊͗͂ ̷̞̲͍̒̾F̷̡̛͙̦̼͎̹͊̆̌͒̊̏͝͝ͅO̴̮͆̔̀̑̎̓̉R̵̰̺̠͔͖̦̀̔̅̊̌͆͑͠ ̰͉ ̴̡̛̜̜̺̙͈̱̬̿̾̈́̅́ͅṀ̴̛̛̼̞̭̗͎͐̈̐̿͌̑I̷̧̛̝̟̹̦̤̭̖̾̂̾̈́̌͘L ̴̡̝̲̜͍͖̼͔͎̎͊̔͋̋͝Ĺ̸̥̯̫̱͔͚̫̰̺̈́̏̇͋̅E̵̛̼̼̙͇͋͌̂Ǹ̷̾̏̑̇ ̤͉̜̺̓̋͊̚ͅṆ̴̝̬̜̻͊̒̈̂̆͜Ĭ̸̛͚͎̺͆̀̌̏̾͠A̶̢̞̎̆̇͌̃̂͘.̸̃͠ ̡͉̝͖͇̪̞̤̟͌̋́͋͐͠͝


    Sayori felt Zeus beginning to pulse something across the link; a rhythmic stutter of signals perfectly calibrated to set off a fatal seizure in the brain matter Cronus was webbed into. Inside the Berserker ship the hunter’s limbs spasmed wildly, trying to translate the impulses of her misfiring brain.


    T̷͖̱͈̤͎̾̒͋́̀̈́͝H̶͎̑̇̈́̍̑Ě̷͇̪̜̙͓̺̯̳̯̫͆̿̈̀͒͘ ̷̻̠͔̝͖͓̣̐̑̎̄L̴͉̬͒̓̉͆͆̐̒̆͜͠Ô̶̟͔̦̗̯̤̳̰̈C̷̡̝̪̞̦̜͔̿A̵ ̛̠͋͋͊͑̆̽͠T̴͈̘̰͔̠̤̓̔̾̐̎̚͜I̴̛͉͔̳͖͉̼͛̉̄̍͗̉̉͠Ơ̶͂̄͗̉̽͝ ̨̥̖̫̈̚Ṇ̴͇̫͐ ̵̠͖̤̦̬͓̎̀̉ͅȌ̷̢̥̲̯̤̘͌̐͘͘͠͠F̴̙͉̱͙̉̽͗͛ ̷͈̰̪͍̺̯̌͛̑̔͌̄͋͘T̸̘́̊͌̈́͂̐̐͘Ḩ̷̢̨̛̫̘̖̼̱̰̓̎͂́͝ͅË̶́̃̿͝ ͇͈̐́͑ ̸͚̯̈́̌͊̕S̵̢̹̲̬͉̍̏͆̾̋̕̕͝͝͝Ę̸͎̤̩̔̐̍̀̋C̵̨̮̺̀̾̀̂̽̂̇̚͝͝ Ơ̵̯̪̟̜̙̟͆͑̎͐̇͒̈́̊͐Ņ̸̢͕͉͇̖̜̰̬̺͒̃̓̀̑̐̿͝͝͝Ḋ̴̨̢̖̭̥̇̓ ͓͖A̵̭̪̎̀R̸̭̻̋̑͋̋̇͘Y̸͍̊̆̽̋ ̴̡̗̳͔͆͒ͅṖ̸͕̖͍͉̳̫̮̏̑͊͒̐͝L̵̠̘̎̏͌͋A̴̢͇̠͓͉̰͙̰̼͛̋̾̓N̸̋ ̩̮̖͚̌E̸̡̫̯̫̤̬͛̈͘̚ ̵̧̢͎̳̠̭̜͊A̴̠̓͆͝W̴̢̙̲̬̞̞̯͌͛A̷̝̹̍̌̏̍͊́̏̃̿̀I̴̛͖͋͌̍̃͛͠ ͔͈̞̳T̵̳͎͎̯̞̲̙̓̓̌̏́̔̋͛ͅS̵̭̘̦̊̎̒̓ ̴̞̬́Ư̵̛̘͚͉̣̪̊͊̋̉̓͒̕͝S̸̲̮̙̆͑̅͘͝.̴̢̢̥̖͍̜͆̒̊̀͐͘ͅ ͖̳ ̶̖̙̤̖̯͂̉̓ͅ ̸̗̦̦̈́


    Sayori felt something trickle from her eye and run down her cheek, too viscous to be tears.


    M̶̢̪̪̤̙̯͆̋̐̕͠Y̸͓͎͈͂̔ ̷̢̟͈͍̩̘͛͑Ŝ̴̨̯̪̯͇̈́͑̎̕͘͝Ï̶̖̌̌̃͌͛̋̎͆͝B̵̦̗̲̩̠̩̥͙̺̉̔͠ ̤L̶̬̞̝͈̹̠͇̅̐̂́̋͘͘Ȉ̵̧͈̬̘̹̼̑͂̊̏̈́͐̕N̵̲̖̫̙̫̜̑͐̉̇͂́̀̈̆ ̡̖̮G̶̡̞̳̫͇̥͕͙̅̒̀̌̾̓͗̉͌͜͠S̸̫̪̲͖͇̋̃͋̓͆͠ ̵̨̱̮̝̌̾A̶͍͍̺̹̋̂̕N̷̦͙̥̄D̴̡̡̼͔͕̈́̒͊̀̋̑̓́̚͝ ̵̨̙̙̦̰̈́̕͠͝Ī̶̛̻̳̪̘͕̝͉̝̱͌̋̆͗́̔̕͠ ̷̲̲̦̎̿͂̓͜͝͝Ẁ̷̠̱̻͛̉̚͠ͅI̶̝̜̘̘͉̱͕̎̌͐͘̕͘L̶̼̑͒̂̊̾̿͊̽̎͘ ̡̭̳͕̲L̴̡̢̛͉̞̟̻̪͈͙͐͗͒͐̎͒̔͝͝ ̷͎̥̳̩͇͇͔̘͖̅̑́̽̆͋̚Ḧ̶̺́͗̈́͂̇̕U̷̘̮̫͚̯͙̥͐N̴̤͚͖̪̲͇̎̇́̃͆͝ ̮T̷̜̹̈́ͅ ̵̣͇̖́͐̈Ę̸̰̳̲͍̥̥̖͒̃̓̎̈́͌̕͜Ň̴̨̥̥̠̝͈̼̦͉̭D̴̢͉͇̀̏̔̅̅͋͠ ̣̜͜L̶̤̳̮̯̫̟̱̣͌́͘Ę̵̜̞̖͉̳̑̿́͜͜S̴̖̘̺̙͉̺̙͌̐̕̕͜͜͠S̵̍̐̚ ̧̳̺̤̐̎̀L̶͇̥͗̉̐Ỳ̴̛̜̒̀̈́̾ ̶̢̹̞̼̬͚̱̹̥́͑͂́́̍̕I̵̱̦͖͝N̶͔̽̾ ̷̨̢̳̝͓͍͍͈͆́̓̽ͅT̶̢̡̫̪̮̮̺̍ͅH̷̢̗̲̖̪̝͕͛̊̐̿̓͐̀͐͌͜͝Ȅ̸̎͘ ̣̓ ̵̢̢͈͍̝͓̒̊̀̀͘̕ͅS̵̭̳̠̬̟̞̋̓̓̒̿̾͝ͅP̸̧̛̤͍͚̗̪̟͕͛͐̑̕ͅÍ̴͝ ͔̬̻̬̖̱͉͝Ŕ̵̡̛̦͇̦͈͂͐̓́̕Á̶̧̩̻̘̩̆̆̎͐͆͌͐͗̾͜ͅL̸͂̂̅̍̒̈́͠ ̡̡̨̨̞̭͎͗̋ ̶̨̱̪̹̺̯̤̮͒ͅĠ̴͇͚͉͚̹̲̲̀́̎̊̊̔͜ͅĄ̵͙̣̟̼̳͔̙͋̋̎͐̓L̸͊͐͗̚ ̛̘̮̣̿̂͝Ã̸̛̲̲͉̮̀́̿̾͑͆͘X̸̧̠̱̪̹̠̦̺̩̩͛̎͌͑́̊̃͐̓͘Ẏ̴͚̉̚ ̘͈.̵͓̱͈̙͓͚̪͕̟͉́́̽̒̓


    Hurry, Sayori. Cicero’s voice cut through the raging tempest, reaching back to her from inside the hunter. It has to be manual. We've lost the payload.

    Zeus had abandoned its assault on the hunter’s override, all its focus on killing Sayori and the ghost she was carrying. As her physical body began to grow numb, Sayori pressed together one simple command code, as stitched and ugly as the Berserkers themselves, and flung it across the hijacked link into the hunter’s brain.

    The drone clambered to the top of the payload.



    W̷̧̺͉̫͓͍̾̋͊̓͌͝H̴̬̆͐̄̉̂͊͘Ä̵̯̦̠̣͎̥̑̎̄͗͊͋̚͘T̶̛̀̀͂̀̂̔ ̠̝̖̹̼̣̳̩͓ ̴̬̟͍̣̟̜͎̀̍̔̉̐͑͊̐͜H̴͓͙͈̖̗̾͊̌̈́͂̒͊̿̕Ă̴̬̞̗̒̋̚͘͜͠͠V̵̀̌ ̛̤͚̓̑̃͗̂͠E̸̡̧̧̦͚̫͓̅͊̀̐̓͂͜ ̴͍̯̠̠͊͒̈́̓̌̄̈́͘Y̷̱͚̙̫̮͓̓̀͊̓̂͌͊́̎̃O̶̢͗͗Ų̴̥̮̔́̀̽̐ ̨͉̻ͅ ̶̧̛̯̞͈͖̜̥͈͙̖́̉̓́̓͛̑B̶̡̢̝͎͈͚̤͍͖̑͊R̷̨̫̺̅͌͗̅̑͂͛̌̈́O̷͂͝ ̪̞͚͎̟̙̜̪̪̎͆͜U̶̼̹̱̼̳̮̳͋̆̀̕͝G̸͍͚̺̜͌̾̓̂H̷̻̽̀́̈́́͝͝ͅT̴̄ ̢̛̜̗̦̥͗̌̿͗̾͘͜͠ ̶̩̘͓̻̺͒M̷̨̨̥̭̲̻̃͗̄̊̀̌͘̕͜͠Ȩ̷͙̲͖͇̯̤̈́̅̊?̸̈́̄̋̓́̑͘ ͚͖ͅ ̸̥̮̣̝̲͎͉̩̰͛́̓͛͋͐̆̀͌͜ ̸͖̉̅̐͋̈́͑̿͒̚͠Ǐ̵̛̖̲̼̬̏͆̒̔̾̈̈́̎ ̴̡̼͌̆̃̑͊̒͠T̷̜͙͌̽͆̎̇͠͠Ä̴̧̖̹̘̤͇̱͓̪̗̍̽̚͝Ş̶͈͎̼͙̆̋̇̀T ̴̧̣͔̼͕͕̖͔̌̀̓̈́̒͑͑͗̚Ȩ̴̛͇͎̭͍̪̹̥̰̮̑̋̅̀ ̶̨̢̻̭͚͙̃́͜.̵̧̭̣̯̟̀͛͒̑͊̋̎͗͝ ̷̧̲̓̏̏̎̈.̴̧̧̹͚̦̩͕̯̈́͜ ̴̛̟͎̍̐̈́.̸̨̝̺̘̗̪͑͆ͅ ̴̨̛͔̪̯̓͗͋̏̈́̓͝N̵͙̐͜O̷̰̯͎͙͖̜̎̈́̑͛̀͘̕͝!̸͔̱͈͘


    The drone brought its fist down as Cicero dived into the hissing snake-pit of code around the I/O architecture and threw Sayori out of the system. She collapsed panting on the floor of the cryo bay as the blinding glare of Zeus' signal vanished like a light switch being flipped.

    The Sentinax beta didn't have time to get clear himself.

    ++++++

    The shuttle came for them a scant 30 minutes after the harsh, white pulse had lit up the night sky. The night was still lit as debris transformed into shooting stars, enough to provide a lifetime of wishes to anyone on the surface. The shuttle was automated, and quickly filled with relieved soldiers and sailors of the Concert, happy to have their main wish answered.

    To go home.

    One, neither a soldier or a sailor, took one last look at the alien world, and smiled sadly. His teeth flashed with a hint of metal.

    One day, he'd come back here. Once he'd made sure his home was safe from the monsters.

    ++++++

    Two days later, the battered hulk of the Elcano accelerated towards the gate, through the debris field. There were indications of a fresh space battle: hulks from Berserker warships guttering fire, fresh clouds of debris and traces of weapons flare. As they got close, they were hailed.

    "This is the Concert dreadnought Lucifer Descending. Identify yourself."

    "This is captain Kalyn Severt of the Elcano. Ident codes attached. We need to retreat immediately. This galaxy isn't safe."

    "An understatement, captain. We'll transfer crew survivors and data to the troopship Michegan. The Elcano will be scuttled here, our scans show it won't survive the jump back."

    Kalyn nodded, a surprising knot forming in her guts. After all they had fought and bled, the Elcano would be abandoned. It hardly seemed fair, even as she appreciated the brutal logic of it.

    "Issue an all hands. We need to move everything, and everyone. I don't want a single scrap of data lost or a single person left behind in this hell hole."

    One of the bridge crew looked at the captain.

    "What about. . .the Prisoner?"

    "Especially the Prisoner. And let the Michegan know that quarantine facilities will need to be set up for all the survivors."

    ++++++

    The bostoned science bay was abuzz with activity, apart from one corner. There Sayori sat, the wire of an EEG monitor trailing from her temple. She wanted to see Garrick, and Navarn, and Davvry, and Severt, but there was no energy left in her body, wondrous though its new augmentations were. For now, all she could do was stare at the body of Cicero.

    Just because he was dead, it didn't mean his metal frame wasn't moving.

    At the moment the bomb had detonated, Cicero had saved both Sayori Warrick and the instance of Cronus, both overcommitted and too entangled in the alien architecture of the hunter. When Sayori had recovered, she had found that the voice in her head was gone. She had landed back in her skull; Cronus had landed back in Cicero, and taken over his empty frame like a human would put on someone else’s coat.

    The scientists had quarantined Cronus in a hastily built faraday cage, itself sequestered in a diamond glass box. He had saved them, but they still didn't trust him. The only input/output was a simple speaker and microphone set up. Seemingly, Cronus had exchanged one prison for another. Sayori would have been furious, even though she had been lucky herself to escape the same fate, but after everything that had happened all she could feel was numb fatigue.

    "What happens next?" she asked her alien mentor’s new body.

    "There are still five of my children out there." It didn’t use Cicero’s voice, having rewritten his vocabulator software to match the cadence she recognised from inside her head. It was strange; somehow slow and clunky-feeling to have to wait for the sounds to pass through her ears instead. "And with this gate soon sealed, they will seek other ways to reach your galaxy. Other gates."

    "And then..." Sayori exhaled. "We have to fight."

    Cronus nodded.

    "You don't have to fight. You have to win. You win, or you die. It’s as simple as that."

    Sayori found enough energy to clench her jaw. "Then I'll fucking make sure we win."

    That was the second time she had said that. Not just I'll fucking try, I’ll fucking make sure. Dangerously like optimism, for definite.

    ++++++

  9. #159
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    Epilogue One

    Jason hauled himself from a transit tube with a grunt, before carefully sweeping the secondary bridge with his pistol. For days he had been sneaking around, gathering intelligence on the Berserkers, his crew mates, and the battles that had unfolded. All he had to do now was pull an instance of Julian from a sub-system, and he would have all the information he needed for his paymasters back home.

    Behind him, a terran pilot covered his rear, with dusky skin, and eyes like chips of blue ice. Like all the ground team survivors, there was a metallic tint to his skin under the right light, and his biology was subtly threaded with alien nano-tech. A reprobate associated with Earth First, he had proved useful muscle and a source of intelligence on the ground survivors that had helped fill the holes in Jasons report, especially once he filtered out his racist bullshit. Now Jason had convinced him, with some specific half truths, that he was working deep cover for an Earth First cell in the Federations intelligence apparatus. Jason was looking forward to shopping the idiot the first chance he got.

    "What do we need here that took us 2 hours of off grid travel through the rotten guts of this ship to find?"

    "An unguarded access point to the ships mainframe Jack, now shut up and keep watch." Jason growled. "A Sentinax alpha instance would be a massive intelligence coup."

    The pilot grunted, and delivered a kick to a drone on the floor. Its scissor limbs clattered as it skidded across the floor.

    "Not so tough without their big boss are they?"

    "No, they aren't." Jason muttered. "Wait. . .oh, shit."

    "What? Whats wrong?" Jack marched over to him. "Whats happened?"

    "They're leaving! We aren't taking the Elcano through, they're abandoning the ship right now."

    Jack paled. "They. . .they won't leave without us, will they? They must know we are still here!"

    "I wiped you from the system after your indiscretions with that Lyran. And I'm not nearly that lucky."

    As the two watched in mounting horror, the screen Jason had got working showed the Concert battlegroup retreat through the gate, vanishing on their long voyage back to the milky way.

    "There's something else, another concert ship?" Jack pointed to the sensors. "Whatever it is, its big."

    "We have other problems." Jason muttered. "The Elcano's reactor has been set to detonate to deny it to the enemy. We need to get to one of the pioneer shuttles and get back to one of the abandoned frigates if we want to survive longer than a half hour. If we can hide out on one of those derelicts, we might be able to survive long enough for the Concert to come back here one day."

    "We're. . .we're fucking marooned?!"

    Jason swung round and grabbed Jack by his jump suit.

    "Yes, we've been fucking marooned. Now get your shit together, and follow me to a hanger."

    "But. . ."

    "But what?" Jason yelled.

    "What's that big ship out there?"

    Jason turned back to the sensors. This was a secondary bridge for directing the Elcano's weapon systems, so its sensor data was solid. As Jason parsed the data, his blood ran cold.

    "Its another Berserker super-capital."

    Behind them, as powerful control signals swamped the system, and hundreds of berserker warships poured into the system, the drone Jack had kicked lurched to its feet.

    The rest was gunfire and screaming.

  10. #160
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    Epilogue Two


    Deep in the catacombs of a nameless world, Cronus waited.

    He waited for the bombardment to end, for the fires to die away. For the Humans, Charabidians, Sentinax , Kel'cyre and Dragonoids to leave. He waited for the debris to stop falling, for his remaining children to finish their squabbles over the corpse of Zeus, and for them to depart, because a new hunting ground was open, and they would, if they could, reduce the Spiral to a graveyard choked with the corpses of civilizations.

    He waited a little longer, for the jungle to grow back, for the concert survivors to reach their home, to issue their warnings to their governments. For the new war to begin.

    And then, as silence descended on that nameless system, he began to sing.

    From the darkness of the deepest tunnels, his wards sang back. They emerged from the shadows and prostrated themselves before him, his masters, his wards.

    The Concert called them the Collectors. He knew them as the Sharn, a race too peaceful, too soft, to survive without his help. He had hidden them from the Concert as he had hidden them from his spawn.

    Now, their time would come again.

    M̫̪̠̤̗͙͜y͖͚̪̠̠̖̝ ̵͈͕M̛͖͙͕͕͙̗a̶̩̜̠s̩͍ṱ͙͔͝e̝̬̪̝̻̝͈r̙ș̟̬̻͉
    ͇̻͍̼
    ͙̬͙͈͉̫̩̕I̸̺̮̼t̛̥͓̻̲̤̗ i̢̜̤̰̼ͅs̼͎̝͕̮̕ ̠̰̝̣͖̝̞́t̠̪̥̟̝̜͈́ḭ̣̠̖͈͞m͓̬̰̟͉̞̦ẹ͇̦̤͇̝ͅ
    ̥̬̻̯͞ͅ
    ̷͈̳̙T͎͝o͏̘̪͚͖̳̪ ̺͔͞b͚͙͖͝e̙̻g̘ͅi͍̠͙̱̳n͏̬̣̮̠̙̫ ̫͇͖̪̻a͈͎̹̯̤̩̪g̘̬͈̺a͉̘̘̝͖͕ͅi͇̠͔̲͎̙̱n͎̯͎̦̟

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