Reborn as a Spaceship

PoV: T'lish

I watched the Arbiter drift into position, its living hull cutting a stark silhouette against the swirling backdrop of Kall-e dreadnoughts. Around it, our battlefleet spread like sharpened claws, each vessel gleaming proudly with the rediscovered technology of our ancestors. I felt a fierce pride. My people had reclaimed their strength, their dignity. We had grown mighty—mighty enough to finally stand tall against those who sought to control us. Our loss to the human still stung.

Beside me stood my sons, K'lak and K'Pish, grown strong in body and mind. Their armor was freshly polished, etched with marks that spoke of their lineage, their status as my offspring which in truth was both a burden and a badge of honor. Most Kall-e don't know their parents. They had yet to taste true combat, to feel the fire that forged warriors from soldiers, but I saw in their eyes the same hunger, the same determination that had carried me here.

"It's incredible to see Lazarus again," K'lak said quietly, watching the Arbiter carefully maneuver into place. "Do you think we'll get a chance to talk to him after?"

"Once our task is complete," I replied, reaching up and laying a hand on his shoulder, feeling the warmth radiating through the metal of his armor. "We owe Lazarus and the others our gratitude. Without them, none of this would be possible."

K'Pish stepped closer, his eyes intense and proud. "We're ready, Mother. You've taught us everything we need to know. We won't disappoint you."

"You could never disappoint me," I told him firmly, looking up into the fierce, loyal faces of my sons. "This is your moment, not mine. You are my pride. When you take the field, remember who we are. Remember what we've fought for. Do your duty, and honor will follow."

K'lak nodded solemnly, placing a heavy fist against his chestplate. "It's an honor to fight for you, Mother. For our people. We will make you proud."

"You already have," I whispered softly.

A gentle alert chimed, pulling my attention back to the fleet. Jack's predictions had proven eerily accurate once again. Somehow, he had known Lazarus would return precisely at this moment. He had prepared meticulously, leaving nothing to chance. It felt as though the universe itself bent to Jack's will sometimes. Maybe it did.

Three years had passed since I'd stood alongside Lazarus and his crew, and those years had worn heavily on me. Eighteen years, middle-aged for a Kall-e, and I felt it in my joints, in the quiet ache of fatigue that came more readily now. But those same years had been a rebirth, a reclamation of all we had lost. My people had shaken off the chains of their genetic memory lock, reclaiming knowledge, technology, and skills long buried. We had risen again, not merely as scientists or engineers, but as warriors. The humans would see it today.

None of that would have been possible had I not met Lazarus, had he not given me the resources and the knowledge. The Kall-e would serve him if he let them.

My flagship, the Blade of K'Thal, thrummed beneath my feet, eager as any living thing to test its mettle. Our mission was brutal simplicity: Lazarus would slip past the blockade first, planting jump buoys to guide our assault. We'd follow, locking down local dimensional space with blockers, trapping the enemy fleet. Precision, speed, ruthless execution it was Jack's plan at its best.

The plan was simple in theory, a precise blade strike in execution. While the Kall-e fleet smashed through the outer defences, their heavy ships ripping into NeuroGenesis lines and creating chaos, Jack and Laia would infiltrate the main compound. They would move in the shadows, slipping through the chaos as the defenders scrambled to hold the perimeter. Once inside, Laia would breach the inner security grids, her form perfectly tuned to bypass the archaic human defences. Jack, ever the strategist, would guide her through the maze of experimental labs and data cores, stripping the facility of its secrets while the defenders focused on the firestorm outside.

Lazarus, for his part, would take the riskier role—shifting the stolen experiments directly onto the Arbiter, using the dimensional shifts to rip entire labs and research modules from their foundations, bypassing physical barriers and locked doors.

It was a dangerous maneuver, one that required precise timing and flawless coordination. But if they pulled it off, they would cripple NeuroGenesis lab in a single stroke, gutting their research. It was a good plan. Dangerous, but good. And it felt right. The kind of strike the old Kall-e might have attempted, when they still remembered the taste of war and the scent of burning metal.

K'lak straightened, looking to me expectantly. "Shall I give the order to prepare for the shift?"

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"Yes," I said calmly, raising my voice to be heard clearly. "And tell the fleet to ready their battle songs. Let our enemies hear us coming."

My son pounded his chest in salute, eyes gleaming. "It will be done."

Laia's voice crackled suddenly over comms. Her shimmering avatar flickered to life beside me, transformed yet familiar. The changes in her fascinated me, but now wasn't the time for idle curiosity. Later I reminded myself, Later I would be a mad scientist again.

"Fleet synchronisation confirmed," Laia reported confidently. "Jump coordinates locked. Lazarus is ready to initiate."

"Then let us begin," I answered, stepping forward into the center of the command dais. My voice carried clearly across the fleet's comm net. "All ships, prepare for jump. For the blood of our ancestors—for the honor of the Kall-e!"

The Arbiter vanished in a flash of distorted space.

Our fleet followed moments later, reality folding around us, stars blurring as space itself tore open to swallow us whole. For an instant, silence and darkness ruled, and then we emerged into a storm of fire.

NeuroGenesis had been waiting.

Massive human dreadnoughts turned their silvered hulls to face us, weapons flashing red-hot as targeting systems locked on. Alarms wailed across the Blade's bridge. Shields flared, absorbing the first punishing salvo. The air trembled with barely contained energy.

"Forward formation, break their lines!" K'Pish roared, his voice booming with authority, surprising even me. "Deploy dimensional blockers! Cut their escape routes!"

A second volley slammed into our formation, rocking my flagship. My heart pounded as shields strained. This was real now—raw, dangerous, exhilarating.

"All vessels, hold formation!" I shouted firmly, gripping the dais to steady myself. "We push forward together, or not at all!"

Our forward batteries responded, carving brutal arcs through the defenders' ranks. At the flanks, dimensional blockers shot out, igniting brilliantly to lock the enemy ships in place. The Blade charged into the heart of the chaos, smashing directly into the side of a human battleship. Magnetic clamps engaged with a savage crunch, sealing our hulls together as atmosphere vented explosively into space.

"Go!" I commanded, eyes locked with my sons'. "Claim your victory. Fight well!"

They saluted sharply and surged forward, their armored squads pounding through the breach into enemy territory. My heart tightened watching their feeds, tension nearly unbearable.

The first enemy resistance appeared swiftly it was the Human Immortals. Enormous, clad in hulking powered armor, they charged like metal titans, weapons blazing.

"Hold formation! Engage!" K'lak bellowed, meeting the lead Immortal head-on with a seismic collision. The armored giants grappled brutally, fists slamming into metal with thunderous force.

K'Pish moved swiftly, his blade slicing through joints and armor plating. Hydraulic fluid sprayed as the Immortal stumbled, falling to K'Pish's furious blows. His victory cry shook the very deck beneath him.

K'lak heaved upward, his immense strength overpowering the Immortal. Metal groaned and tore as he wrenched the enemy's helmet free, ending the struggle with a definitive, crushing blow. He roared in triumph, bloodied but alive—victorious.

"Mother!" K'lak's breathless voice crackled urgently over comms. "We have broken through. The first corridor is secured!"

"You fought bravely," I said firmly, warmth flooding me with pride. "But remain vigilant. Push forward and make them fear you."

"Yes, Mother!" came K'Pish's fierce reply. "We will not fail you."

The battle raged on fiercely around us, ships locked in desperate combat, explosions lighting space like new stars. I coordinated fleet movements, never allowing my gaze to stray far from the feeds showing my sons. They advanced steadily, conquering corridor after corridor, their confidence and ferocity growing with every victory.

A sudden, deafening impact rocked the Blade. The hull groaned around us, systems flaring warnings.

"Direct neutron cannon hit!" a crewman shouted.

"Adjust shielding," I barked sharply. "Hold our position. Support squads three and five, reinforce K'lak and K'Pish."

The enemy wasn't surrendering. Instead, they rallied, counterattacking savagely. I watched anxiously as a fresh squad of Immortals barreled toward my sons' position, their armor dark and menacing.

"Mother," K'lak's voice crackled again, steady yet tense. "They're rallying heavily against us. Permission to hold our ground?"

I hesitated only an instant. "Granted. Stand firm, my sons. Fight with honor."

The Immortals collided violently with our warriors. K'lak and K'Pish fought fiercely, roaring defiance. Blood, sparks, and chaos filled the corridors. Heart pounding, I watched as K'lak was thrown back against a wall, stunned but still struggling to rise.

Then K'Pish surged forward, his blade slashing furiously. Metal split beneath his blows, and he stood protectively in front of his brother, roaring his defiance. The enemy hesitated just enough.

K'lak was on his feet again, stepping up beside his brother, shoulder to shoulder.

"For Mother! For the Kall-e" K'lak thundered.

"For honor!" K'Pish roared.

Together they charged, unstoppable as a mountain avalanche, breaking through the Immortals' ranks. Their victory cry echoed triumphantly through every ship in the fleet, raising the courage of our warriors.

My chest tightened with fierce, burning pride. They had done it. My sons had claimed their first victory, and in that moment, I knew they would forever be warriors respected by their peers, honored by their people.

"The enemy line is collapsing," Laia's voice whispered in my ear. "We have recovered the data. You have your victory, T'lish."

"We have earned it," I replied softly, nodding solemnly. "Signal Lazarus. Secure the objective, and prepare for extraction."

Turning my stare outward, I saw the broken remains of enemy ships scattered like shards of shattered crystal across the void. We had prevailed, though the cost was heavy on both sides. We had lost more than a few of our own ships. Many Kall-e would not be returning with us.

But tonight, the Kall-e had won their honor back. My sons had earned their place among warriors.

The Kall-e had returned, stronger than ever.
We would never again be denied. Humans would learn from us.