Synth

Was a name really all that important?

That was one of the things that Kei was thinking about as waited to come within firing range of the insurgent ship. They refused to think of it as another synth ship because it wasn’t; it was filled with insurgents who wanted to bring chaos to King Decon’s reign. But did that matter? Did it matter if they called that ship an insurgent ship, a synth ship, or just referred to it only by its serial number? Likewise, did a name matter to them? Did having a name or not having a name matter? The small civilian crew on their ship seemed to think it did. They wanted something to refer to Kei by, and just using the phrase “the synth” seemed to make them uncomfortable. Well, it made most of them uncomfortable; Gyrini adapted to almost anything they told her.

It didn’t matter in the end; they thought. They had no proper title, and had gotten used to the name Kei anyway, and found themself responding to the name without thought. Was that a problem? Did that matter?

They shook their head, ignoring the questioning look of the small, reptilian civilian doctor who nervously worked to stitch up the wound on their leg. The civilian doctors had stitched it up back on Arkane, but something had gone wrong, and they all had to be removed and replaced. As they were coming up on the insurgent ship in mere hours, it seemed like the best idea to get the wound treated quickly to ensure that they were in the best possible condition to execute the plan.

They huffed and looked away from the doctor. The plan was all that really mattered. They could put the thoughts of names and titles out of their head for now. It was a simple plan, and an easy one given that they had seen all the travel plans that TO had on their chip. Still, Kei was determined to do the job properly and record footage of the insurgent ship blowing up.

The commander themself had Given Kei this duty, since none of their former officers had any authority over them anymore, as they had disappeared and failed to report in over a week. They wished they had thought to ask the Commander what their title should be, and who they were actually working under, but they couldn’t help the swell of pride in their chest, the way their ears had flicked upwards as the Commander gave them the duty. Flustered and concerned about this development, Kei had ended the communication as quickly as possible and forgot to ask about a designation.

It wasn’t important. No, a name, regardless of how they felt about that name, didn’t matter. They were a synth serving King Decon, and that was the only thing that mattered. They didn’t know why the civilians cared so much.

Worse still, they didn’t know why they themself actually seemed to care.

They hissed in sudden pain; the sensation bringing them back from the thoughts which they seemed to get lost in so often these days and back to the civilian doctor whose needle had stabbed the wound rather deeply.

“Apologies, Mx. Kei.” The doctor said as they looked down at the floor, their hands shaking, their eyes wide. “it’s almost done-“

“Then finish it.” Kei snapped, glaring at them. They glanced at the half-stitched up wound on their leg, and looked at the blood trickling down the side and towards their feet, trailing around the bent form of their digitigrade feet. They focused on the blood as though looking into it, searching for something…

Nothing. Their ears flicked back in a smirk; TO’s aversion to blood wasn’t due to the brain alterations, but was rather some innate flaw in the renegade synth. Kei had seen and drawn blood many times now since the procedure, and never once had they had a reaction like TO’s.

“Done, Mx. Kei,” the doctor said as they applied a clean bandage to the surface of the wound. “Is there anything else-“

“No.” Kei said as they pushed themself up from the chair. While they allowed the civilians to call them Kei and had no issue with the name, they disliked the title they insisted on using; Mx. It was the most common title for those who were genderless or genderfluid, and it was considered polite to refer to with a higher status to use some kind of title like that, but it was not their title. Kei didn’t have a title. They had explained this to the civilians several times, but they had insisted they were only being polite. Still, the use of that simple title reminded them of what they were lacking, of what had happened. Mx. Mix. Everything had gotten mixed up; Their position, their plans, their mind.

No matter. They could fix it all. All they had to do was destroy that ship.

As they shifted their weight to their injured leg to test it, the elevator door opened and Gyrini stepped out. Her wings fluttered momentarily at her back as she saw Kei–an odd gesture which Kei had yet to parse–and stood at attention before them.

“We’re approaching the renegade ship, Kei,” she said.

Oddly, her simply calling them by that name allowed them to release a breath they didn’t realize they were holding. Gyrini was the only one on the ship who immediately listened and obeyed when they said they did not use any titles, and that assigning them a common one was needless. Still, that moment of relief was replaced by concern as her words sunk in. “It is early for that.” They said. They looked down at the medic. “You; go. You’re not needed here.”

“Yes, Mx. Kei.” the medic said as they rushed to the elevator.

“Kei has asked you do not use a title.” Gyrini said, her antennae flicking back on her head, “You will obey-“

“It doesn’t matter.” Kei said as the doors closed, “Names are entirely meaningless to synths.”

“Still,” she said, “You gave an order, they should obey it.”

Kei grunted, their ears flicking down with worry as they approached the main console. “We weren’t supposed to approach the ship for another few hours.” They said. “What happened?”

“Unsure. They slowed, so we took advantage of that to catch up further. Eventually, they stopped. We figured perhaps they had a mechanical failure of some kind, but when they next accelerated, they headed towards us.”

Kei’s mind raced, taking all these little bits of information and laying them out in their mind. That, of course, was the best thing about the procedure that had altered the mind that King Decon had crafted for them. There were so many awful side effects such as the slew of emotions they had struggled to understand when they first woke up, the way their mind would grab a thought now and wander off with it, they way they would sometimes consider things which made no sense, different situations they might never find themself in, and create full narratives from the potentials therein. It was all awful, but the way their mind seemed somehow unleashed was proving to be useful.

’*There is no reason for them to turn around like that.*’ They thought, ‘*But, there must be. Why turn from their destination? Their time and resources are limited and there’s no other location nearby they can flee to. What’s different? What changed?’

The answer was obvious; it was them, Kai’s own presence. Slowing or stopping, yes, that could be a sign of random mechanical failure, but then they had changed course and turned around to meet them.

“They know we’re here.” Kei said simply. “I suppose they mean to fight; to take us by surprise and disable our ship before we can attack.” That made the most sense. It was possible that they were running scans for nearby vessels, and possible as well that TO or DH might have recognized the ID code for their ship.

“I see,” Gyrini said, “I admit: I suspected as much. Shall we activate the shields and prepare for combat?”

Kei was silent for several moments as they considered their options. “No.” They said.

“Might I ask an explanation?” Gyrini asked.

“That’s what TO would expect us to do.” They said simply. “TO wouldn’t simply go into combat with them like this: Our ships have equal firepower, yes, but they have civilians on board their ship, and as such, they can take less damage. Besides-“ Their ears pinned down as they remembered that simulation back in training, the one where TO had tricked them, “TO would not fight like that. No, they’d come up with some plan to give themselves an advantage.”

They knew that TO had a plan. They just didn’t know what it was, as their actions made no sense.

Kei walked to the status screen and looked over the numbers before them; the stats on their engines, their fuel information, the energy levels going to the different areas of the ship...

They paused and looked at the energy levels. Right now, their shields and weapons drew no power. If they prepared for combat, they’d have to divert a lot of energy from other places to power their weapons system. Ideally, they would stop to divert all that energy to the weapons bay.

Ah, so that’s what they were doing.

Kei leaned forward and entered a few commands on their console, increasing the power going to the engines and speeding up.

“Kei?” Gyrini asked as the hum of the engines grew louder, “Might I ask-“

“I believe TO expects us to stop.” Kei said, their ear twitching up again in a self-satisfied smirk. “They expect we will stop and prepare to fight, but they will not. They will continue to move and if we’re stopped, then they’ll have a chance to put further distance between us.”

“… If that’s the case, then why turn around and head towards us in the first place?”

“An excellent question.” Kei said as their ears pinned back. That they didn’t know. They knew there had to be some reason for it though. “Perhaps they have some plan to stop our ship or limit our ability to track them. Either way, I expect they’re planning on us stopping and fighting.” They looked to Gyrini, their ears flicked up again, “If that’s what they want, then we must not do that.”

Her wings fluttered again, and she nodded. “Understood.” She said. “What do I do?”

Kei paused and watched her for a long moment. After being around broken synths for so long, Gyrini’s unquestioning obedience was refreshing. “You are truly more of a synth than the synths we are chasing.” They said.

Her wings fluttered again, and though she stayed standing at attention, she seemed to stiffen. “Thank you.” She said, her words staccato and quick.

“As for what you do…” They paused and looked at the screen with the tracking program. “Nothing. We watch, and we wait.”

The minutes passed: Trajectories became clearer and they could see that the renegade ship would be dangerously close as it passed them. The readings showed clearance, but also gave a warning to change course to ensure their safety. Kei reached out to do just that, to allow the automatic guidance system to shift their path ever so slightly and ensure that they didn’t hit the other ship. As their hand hovered over the button, a series of alarms went off as the renegade ship changed its own trajectory to aim not further away from them, but directly at them. A timer appeared on the screen, red flashing numbers counting down from exactly one minute and eleven seconds.

One minute and eleven seconds until they crashed into one another should they not change their path.

Gyrini scoffed, her antennae flicking back again, “They’re riding the comet.”

Kei glanced at Gyrini, their ears flicking out as they considered the statement. They recognized it, of course, but they could not recall what it meant. It was one of the seemingly endless, meaningless statements that civilians made up to mean different things. “What does that mean?” They asked.

Gyrini’s antennae flicked back, her wings tightened against her back. “Apologies. It means they’re… challenging us, basically.” She said. She pointed to the radar image. “They’re aiming for us. If neither of us changes our course, we’ll crash.”

“Ah.” Kei said, “Doing something stupid and dangerous in hopes that we will back down. I am surprised. I thought they were more intelligent than this.” They didn’t know why TO was doing this, but it was clear what the intention was. For whatever reason, they wanted Kei to turn their ship, to change trajectory and get out of the way. Perhaps they thought that since Kei had civilian staff on their ship for the time that one of the civilians would wrest control of the ship from them and change direction.

It didn’t matter what TO thought; they realized. All that mattered was what TO wanted them to do. Right now, it seemed like they wanted Kei to redirect the ship.

“…We will not change our course.” Kei said as they stood, their hands clasped behind their back, their wings puffing in defiance. They looked at the timer, which now showed forty seconds remaining. “They will shift out of the way, and we will follow them.”

Gyrini nodded, but her antennae pressed down against the top of her head, “They will not actually crash the ship, correct? There are too many civilians on board. Even if they had the nerve and fortitude to crash the ship against us, the other civilians would not.”

Was she asking them, or telling them what she thought? “I agree.” Kei said. “TO will not crash that ship, not with DH there as well.” Their ears pinned back, their eyes narrowing, “They turned on King Decon for the chance to be with them, so I highly doubt that they’d be willing to let DH die now.”

“And what if they do not?” Gyrini asked as she eyed the timer, “How long do we wait until we change course?”

An excellent question. After considering her words for a moment, they pressed a button a button on the control panel which locked the elevator. “We do not change course.” Kei said, “They either move, or we crash into them. If they move, we chase them. If we crash, then our duty is done. The collision will destroy both our ships.” They glanced over at Gyrini, their ears flicking back. She had impressed Kei so far, yes, but she was still a civilian. A very loyal civilian, but a civilian nevertheless. on the timer, thirty seconds remained. There was still time for her to change their path. “If they do not change course, what will you do?”

Her antennae twitch, her shoulders shook, and for a moment the solid and steady form of Gyrini seemed oddly frail. Kei sighed, preparing to be disappointed in her. They didn’t know why that bothered them, why it seemed as though she was about to ruin all their good opinions of her, and why that made them feel so oddly heavy.

“Well.” She said, “I… I guess I’ll die then.”

Kei paused and looked at her, observing her carefully. They were awful at reading body language without their helmet, but they could see that the idea of crashing into the other ship and dying in a horrible explosion had scared her. Yet, she still simply said she’d die.

“You’re not frightened?” They asked before they could stop themself.

“I am.” She said. “I wish I was not.” Her long, spindly legs shuffled where she stood and she looked away from the screen that showed their radar tracking and the warning which counted down to the last twenty seconds they had before they could no longer avoid a collision. “I… apologize.” She said, “I can’t watch.” She looked up, looked around at the small area of the command station, at the bed in the back, at the small table where Kei would often eat alone. “… if I’m to die, at least it’s on a ship in space, and not on the cold, open air of some awful planet.”

Kei nodded and turned back to the screen.

Ten seconds.

In ten seconds, it would be decided. They’d no longer have time to move out of the way, and perhaps only seconds after that, they would collide. How fast were they going? If they switched to their exterior view, would they be able to see the insurgent ship yet?

Nine seconds.

It was a shame that they’d not be repurposed once this was done, but it was a soothing balm that at the very least they’d die while following a Commander’s orders.

Die.

They frowned, their ears pinning back. Death was never something they considered before. Synths didn’t die; they were repurposed.

Eight seconds.

What was dying actually like? Was it instant? Was it slow? Would the crash itself kill them, or would an explosion afterwards do the job? Would they be torn apart in the aftermath? They knew that disembodied head can live for a short time being separated from its body, so if they were torn apart, how much would they see or feel?

Seven seconds.

That didn’t matter. It would be over shortly after. They would just be ended. They’d be able to say they lived and died in service to King Decon.

Six Seconds.

They had this odd, gnawing feeling in their stomach, like they should say something to Gyrini. “You are a good Civilian, Gyrini.” Kei said in the silence that lingered under the alerts and warnings that came from the screen. They didn’t know how their space could seem so silent despite how the noise. “Practically a synth.”

Five seconds.

“Thank you.” She said. Her voice sounded strange, deeper than normal, and shaken. “I… wished to be a synth when I was a child. Foolish, I know.”

Four seconds.

Of course, her voice seemed different. She was scared. She was a civilian. Civilians weren’t supposed to die in service of King Decon. So far, in the short time they had known her, the woman had been unflappable, and now she was scared. They knew that she shouldn’t have been, that she should have been thrilled to die in service of King Decon... but how could that demand that of her when they suddenly realized that they weren’t even happy to be dying in service to King Decon.

Three seconds.

“But.. I suppose at least I’ll die like a synth; in service to King Decon,” she said. Kei swore they could hear her voice crack. “I am happy for that.”

Two seconds.

*No.*

One second.

Kei lunged forward and hit the redirect order as the final second flashed on the screen, unsure if it would work at this point or not. It happened so fast and felt like they acted without thinking, their body reacting and moving and hitting that command before their brain could process what was happening. The ship lunged, the engines shifted and accelerated in a new direction. The sudden movement, the change in speed and direction, knocked them both to the side. Kei felt their wing twist behind them as they hit the wall, and saw Gyrini reach out and grab the nearest surface before she fell, stabilizing herself with her four legs.

Something hit the ship, causing it to shudder and causing an awful crunching sound to echo though as an alert came back up on the screen.

Damage to Engine 1

Damage to Engine 5

Damage to Engine 6

Mobility compromised: Engine system unstable. Automatic shutdown initiated. Engines retracted.

Engines shut down and their ship drifted off into a new direction, spinning from the force of the strike. Thankfully, the artificial gravity hadn’t been damaged, so while the ship twisted and spun in the void of space, they didn’t feel it.

They pursed their lips as their ears low and pinned back, Kei got up and looked at the radar again, seeking the insurgent ship. They’d have to repair the broken engines now before they could pursue them, but knowing what direction they were heading in would help them make a plan.

The radar showed nothing. Kei frowned and zoomed out. Perhaps they had already accelerated enough to get out of the immediate range the radar was set for. They checked again, but still saw nothing. They switched to the external view of their ship, but due to the way the ship was spinning, they couldn’t focus.

Their tracking had failed, and the ship was lost.

“What did you do?”

Kei turned, Gyrini’s tone which was always so steady and constant now had a hint of something else to it, a shaking quality to it. When they met her eyes, they saw the remains of tears on the caprice of her face, but her antennae were pinned back.

Kei’s ears dropped, their eyes widened. As they realized what had just happened. “I...I hit the course correction.” They said as though they were talking about someone else, as though they could hardly believe it had happened despite the fact that they themself did it.

“Why” Gyrini demanded, taking a step forward.

Kei’s head was spinning with that question, seeing an answer and finding none.

“I don’t know.”