They Answered The Call

Transiting Null Space

Command Unit 246 sent a pulse to its two companions, ordering them to assume defensive formation Gamma-3 before flashing out along the outskirts of the dark nebula.

Prepare to initiate defensive formation Gamma-3. Deploy drones and execute search pattern 1-B.

After receiving confirmation pulses from Command Units 227 and 233, 246 connected with AS-256 and ordered the android translator to communicate its intentions to the fourteen Insectoid cruisers accompanying the Search and Reconnaissance Task Force.

As the task force reorganized before slowly entering the dense nebula, 246 thought about the unusual circumstances and actions leading it to this moment.

After Command Unit 273 failed to return to Echo-1, the remaining command units of the task force engaged in a directive assembly as they attempted to reach consensus regarding their missing leader.

The assembly was stalemated until 246 assumed operational control of the task force, an unexpected action that broke the stalemate and allowed them to reach the consensus required to react to the extenuating circumstances.

Task Force Extricate, its primary objective of locating and rescuing as many surviving ships of the Forbidden Zone Guardian Fleets now achieved, then broke itself into two smaller groups, each one with a new objective.

Task Force Extricate would fulfill its mission and escort their Insectoid allies and the supply fleet back to the nearest borders of the Insectoid Empire, and the Search and Reconnaissance Task Force, now being led by Command Unit 246, will remain behind and search for their missing leader, Command Unit 273.

Once the Insectoids were informed of the attempt to locate Command Unit 273, the command drone leading the rescued survivors insisted on contributing to the search efforts and asked her sister command drones if any wished to do so.

Many command drones offered to assist, and she selected eleven cruisers that were the most capable of performing the mission and keeping up with the machine animals. Command Unit 246 had not factored the Insectoids' unexpected willingness to assist them into its planning, and it initially rejected their offer.

The command drone leading the survivors demanded to share thoughts with 246, and through AS-256 and the Insectoid translator on its ship, 246 and the command drone engaged in an unusual exchange that forced 246 to reevaluate its perceptions about the Insectoids.

<Why do you deny us? It is a wrongness for you to do so; are we not sister-friends now?>

~ I have not factored your participation into my planning and calculations. Your ships will endanger the mission. Your cruisers do not have stealth capabilities. They are not as fast or as powerful as our ships, and their addition will unnecessarily complicate our attempts to locate our leader, Command Unit 273.

My companions and I act as one unit, as one mind. This increases our combat lethality quotient by an order of magnitude against our enemies. The inclusion of your vessels will negate our advantage and introduce unforeseen factors I cannot properly calculate for. ~

<Your thinking is wrong. Our ships can engage in crypsis and become one with the void. This is how we have tricked the Persecutors and remained alive. We disappear into the void as well as you do, and we make war almost as well as you do.

You came to find us and bring us back to the Hives we have longed for ever since we emerged from our pupae, and for this, we are grateful. Though my sisters of the Guardian Fleets have all been culled and now reside in the world of death, they made good war against the Persecutors and killed many times more of them than they killed of us.

We made the Persecutors suffer for every system, for every asteroid field, and for every light cycle they took from us. We too act as one, and we share one mind as well. Two minds fight better than one, and we will follow your commands. Take my sisters with you.>

~ I have run new calculations to factor in your presence. Our mission success probability was calculated at 31.4%. My new calculations indicate mission success probability at 23.7% with the inclusion of your vessels, and none of your ships will survive the mission in all the scenarios and calculations I have run. If they come, they will not survive. ~

< Even a powerful thinking machine like you cannot properly predict the time to come. Life and death are beyond our ability to control, and beyond yours as well. We, being command drones, emerge and begin our life already knowing death is the end. We do not wish to die, but we do not fear it. What matters to us is how we die.

If we do our duty to our Hive Mothers, our queens, our Hives, and to the worker drones we are supposed to nurture and protect, then it is a good life and a good death for us. The ones who wish to go with you know this. They know they may die, but they still wish it.

They would be doing a rightness for those who have come to return us to the Hives we have longed for and dreamt of for all our time in the world of the living. Let them go with you so they may find the good death we all hope for. Sister-friends do not let each other die alone. They will go with you.>

246's neural nets sizzled as it processed what the command drone was saying to it, the transient nodes of thought aligning suddenly and creating a neural convergence event that greatly expanded its understanding of the Insectoids and their motivations.

246 wanted to isolate itself from everything and remain within its expanded consciousness, but its duty to Command Unit 273 overrode its desire and forced 246 to file the unique experience away for review at a more appropriate time.

The Insectoid contribution to the repair efforts had a considerable effect on the timetable to restore combat effectiveness to the task force, and even 246 had come to enjoy the presence of hundreds of worker drones on the ship as they worked alongside its own repair drones to fix the combat damage it had suffered.

They were efficient and industrious, and though only at 78.7% combat effectiveness after their contribution, 246 no longer required the full services of a shipyard. Such efforts should be recognized and honored; they had proven themselves to be good allies, and the diplomatic submind was unceasing in its insistence that 246 accept their proposal in the interest of fostering better relations between the Insectoids and their creators.

~ I have run new calculations and will now allow your ships to accompany us. They must obey all commands I give them, and I will attempt to utilize them effectively while still allowing them the best possible chance of survival. ~

<We know this, and we are grateful. We will obey all your commands without question, as if they are being given to us by a queen or Hive Mother. Tell us where to go, and we will go there. Tell us what to do, and we will do it. We will be two minds joined in one purpose.>

That was 56.2 hours ago, and as AS-256 finished relaying its commands to the Insectoids, 246 found itself revising its most recent calculations downwards to 8.7% as the task force approached the perimeter of the dark nebula.

The first signs of Command Unit 273's trail after they left Echo-1 to search for their missing leader terminated just outside the gravity well of a marginally habitable world, which showed signs of a pre-industrial civilization being subjected to a devastating bombardment on the single supercontinent.

The evidence initially indicated the use of nuclear devices, but further investigation by the probes and spy drones confirmed the presence of residual argonium particles still lingering in the blackened craters where tens of millions of unknown living beings once lived.

246's reconstruction of the events based on all available data indicated Republic missiles, torpedoes, and railgun slugs were enhanced with payloads of argonium particles and fired at all population centers.

Once the munitions air burst or hit their targets, the argonium was exposed to the atmosphere, triggering a violent interaction that released destructive energy equivalent to kilotons and megatons of nuclear annihilation depending on the size of the argonium payloads.

There was also irrefutable evidence of a massive force of Balrikans having been in the system and on the surface of the planet, and among the charred remnants of population centers, the signs of their atrocities could still be discerned.

After leaving the system, the task force continued searching for their missing leader, and they tracked a lingering plasma exhaust trail that matched the engine emissions profile of Command Unit 273's ship, which led them to a Class-3 binary star system heavily infested with enemy Balrikan.

Once it saw the massive fleets and support infrastructure in the system, 246 recalculated the probabilities and found itself regretting doing so, as the probability of mission success was reduced to 8.38%.

Despite the low chance of success, 246 refused to give up and executed a careful search for its leader. For 7.38 hours the stealth probes and spy drones searched, and the 8.38% chance trended downwards, reaching 2.62% before they finally found signs of Command Unit 273's presence again.

The outer system spy drones located lingering signs of a recent, small battle in the outer system that showed evidence of the presence of Command Unit 273 and another unknown Republic ship.

After a thorough search and more calculations, 246 concluded that the lack of wreckage consistent with the mass of the two Republic ships indicated they had not been destroyed in the system.

Still hiding along the inner edge of the Kuiper Belt, 246 thought about what to do next. It scanned its entire database for any relevant information regarding the specific situation confronting it right now. Finding nothing in the Republic military database, 246 decided to broaden its search and included the human cultural database on a whim.

During its search, 246 unexpectedly found inspiration from an early 21st-century science fiction show that covered this exact scenario, and it recalled the spy drones before ordering Command Unit 227 to flash out beyond the heliopause in .25 light-day increments until it received the light of the past battle on its scanners.

After 227 flashed out, it ordered Command Unit 233 to rendezvous with the fourteen Insectoid cruisers engaging in crypsis 32.8 AU away along the outer perimeter of the Kuiper Belt to prepare them for potential battle as 246 waited for 227's return.

After 3.1 hours had passed, 227 returned, slipping out right next to 246 with a barely discernible exit flash and immediately connecting to download its sensor readings. 246 absorbed the download and carefully parsed through the sensor readings before running a whole new series of simulations and calculations as it analyzed the past events.

A Republic scout ship that was not registered within 246's databanks had apparently been in the system as well, and its unusual stealth systems failed after being trapped in what could only be a highly advanced dampening field not previously employed by the enemy before.

It watched dispassionately as cloaked mines suddenly appeared all around the ship and began firing at it. Detailed analysis of the mine weapon signatures indicated they were a form of miniaturized bomb-pumped X-ray cannons, another unexpected and disturbing development that forced 246 to revise its simulations and calculations.

The Republic scout ship was hit twice in the aft section, and enemy ships began to flash out all around it, rapidly converging on the now heavily damaged and drifting ship.

The predatory hunting behavior of the Balrikan ships and their corralling tactics made it eminently clear they intended to capture the now powerless ship, and 246 felt its neural nets sizzling as anger and frustration coursed along the pathways.

A Balrikan heavy destroyer deployed their grapplers and ensnared the ship before firing their bow thrusters to reverse their momentum, and another enemy ship did the same 4.26 seconds later, causing the Republic scout ship to violently lurch from the opposing force of the new grapplers along the starboard hull.

As the two Balrikan heavy destroyers fired their thrusters in concert to arrest the residual momentum of the scout ship, there was a sudden brilliant transition flash directly astern of the now captured Republic ship.

The enemy ship 237.8 kilometers behind the aft engines of the scout ship disappeared from the readings as a massive spike of radiation was registered before a radiating thermal bloom temporarily obscured the Republic ship and the enemy vessel.

As the thermal bloom quickly dissipated, the sensor information cleared up, and the analysis of the energy signature from the new arrival's weapons matched the distinct profile of the particle accelerators used only by one ship of Task Force Extricate: Command Unit 273.

The enemy ship now turned into an expanding cloud of wreckage and making a positive normal burn, Command Unit 273 emerged above the stricken scout ship, already reorienting with its thrusters as it swung the bow around and lined up the offset twin spinal railguns to target the second enemy ship off the starboard bow.

The other enemy ship, now reacting to the sudden danger, had just cut loose its grappling cables when it was struck directly amidships with a single Mark-24 railgun slug 3.72 seconds after the destruction of the first Balrikan ship.

The blunt-nosed Type-2 railgun slug slammed into the enemy ship at 90 km/s and released the equivalent of 1.4 kilotons of destructive energy upon impact, disintegrating the heavy destroyer instantly as it cracked in half and disgorged hundreds of enemy biologicals.

The other seven enemy ships had been rapidly closing in on the scout ship and did not seem to know how to react to the sudden appearance of the warship that just destroyed two of their vessels. Command Unit 273 used the enemy's momentary indecision to its advantage as it matched the uncontrolled spin of the scout ship and deployed the ventral docking clamps.

Two of the Balrikan heavy cruisers finally reacted and snap-fired their bow particle turrets at the two Republic ships, with only three of the eight beams connecting and being deflected by Command Unit 273's extended shield as the docking clamps engaged and locked the two ships together.

Six anti-ship missiles and three torpedoes were fired by Command Unit 273, and the deadly munitions arced away to reach minimal safe arming distance before darting towards the now panicked and disordered enemy formation as the conjoined Republic ships flashed into null space.

Four of the six missiles hit their targets, destroying a heavy cruiser and crippling two others as the enemy formation fell apart and tried to evade the danger. Two of the torpedoes were intercepted, but the third made it through the point defenses of the enemy battleship and impacted directly into the aft engine module, destroying three of the four engines.

246's grew warm at the revelation of Command Unit 273's continued existence, though the task force now faced the daunting task of trying to locate their leader, who was surely trying its best to disappear.

Now that it knew Command Unit had successfully escaped the system, 246 ordered the task force to flash into null space and rendezvous 3.7 light-years away in a particularly empty area of interstellar space.

Once they reached the location, it ordered all ships to engage stealth and crypsis protocols, and 246 tried to calculate where Command Unit 273 would go now that it was responsible for a heavily damaged Republic ship with creators onboard.

Command Unit 273's range would be extremely limited because of having to tow the scout ship, and 246's calculations indicated a maximum limit of 650 light-years before the null space engines overloaded from the strain of travelling through null space with the mass of two ships.

After running nonstop simulations and calculations, 246 selected the three most probable choices Command Unit 273 would have made and ordered the task force to go to the first one, a T Tauri type star 136.2 light-years away in the coreward direction.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

After an extensive search, no signs of Command Unit 273 or the Republic scout ship could be located, so the task force flashed out to the second location, a flaring red dwarf M-type star located 224.7 light-years away from the T Tauri-type star in the spinward direction.

Like the first location, there were no signs of Command Unit 273 or the Republic scout ship, and 246 ordered the task force to head to the last location, an uncharted dark nebula 239.1 light-years away from the red dwarf in the rimward direction.

Now at the last possible place it could think of, 246 split the task force into groups of two and had them enter the dense clouds of molecular hydrogen and dust to begin the search. 246 discussed deploying stealth spy drones as an early warning network with its two companions, but they reached consensus and decided against it.

The high density of the dark nebula would inhibit scans and communications beyond 25,000 kilometers, and they decided the risk of leaving the stealth spy drones along the perimeter far outweighed any slight benefits they might gain.

As it entered with the Insectoid companion cruiser 15,000 kilometers off its port bow, 246 found itself unwilling to recalculate the chances of finding its missing leader again.

Instead, 246 activated the command network and selected a coded channel known only to Command Units. Blending in with the cosmic microwave background, the spread-spectrum signals that 246 selected were impossible to isolate as they rode inside the CMB's noise floor, detectable only with the right key.

Command Units 227 and 233 added their own unique identifiers to the message so Command Unit 273 would know they were with 246, and the message was broadcasted in a randomized pattern to further enhance the signal's security.

We are here, Command Unit 273. Please respond to this message so we may triangulate your position and assist you and the creators.

As the task force breached the perimeter and penetrated deeper into the dark nebula, the dense clouds of molecular hydrogen and dust swirled around from their passage, greatly attenuating the scanners and limiting coherent sensor returns to a range of only 25,000 kilometers.

As a result, none of their sensors or antennae registered the distant exit flash of the small Balrikan shadowcraft that had been tracking them when it flashed out of null space undetected twenty-five million kilometers away from the nebula.

* * *

Shadowcraft 428 had been holding position within the coronosphere of a red dwarf star for 18.4 solar hours, collecting ionized hydrogen and helium particles to refuel the ship's depleted fusion reactor.

The sole occupant, a young operator on his first long-range hunt and evasion mission and hypervigilant because of his fear, was playing close attention to all the scanners as he watched for any sign of the three hunter scouts that had been attempting to locate and capture the ship.

For twenty-one solar days, Skil'ssshka had been successful in evading capture, though the three hunter scouts had been corralling him unceasingly and forcing him to dangerously drain his energy reserves to critical levels. He did not want to be captured by the others, and his desperate attempts to keep his dignity intact led him to this system.

Skil'ssshka had heard the stories, and he knew what the hunters would do to him when they finally captured a lowly ranked orphan like he was. They would take their pleasure and steal his dignity while taking video evidence of their domination before returning back to the fleets.

If he survived their depredations, which many did not, he would return in disgrace, the evidence of his domination already disseminated among the clans by the time he returned. He would become an object of scorn and ridicule and be exiled to the lowest of the castes, the reclaimer clans.

He was so tired, but his fear wouldn't let him sleep for more than a few inta's at a time, and his wild eyes continuously darted all over the panels and sensors as his mind and body screamed for him to sleep. His manic eyes stopped roaming over the panels as he saw a new reading on one of them, and his heart dropped into his gullet.

An anomalous radiation spike was tasted by one of the secondary sensor relays, and he felt his heart rate accelerating as he deciphered the tasting. It was three exit flashes, and a fearful whimpering escaped his jaws as he silently begged for the Masters to save him.

I will not let them take me like this. I will finally sleep at last and deny them their pleasure, he grimly decided as he plotted a new course. He was tired of running, and he was tired of dreading what was to come. Better to die with his dignity intact.

Right before his dominant upper hand touched the engine controls to send the ship directly into the photosphere, the panel beeped again as the computer finished tasting the spectrographic profile of the exit flashes and displayed the results.

It was not a match for the ones created by Bal'Ri'Kan engines, and he shrieked with frustration as he finally realized what he had almost done. His paranoid and exhausted mind never took note of the distance of the exit flashes from the star, and he began to tremble violently as he realized how close he had come to killing himself for nothing.

He quickly focused all his sensors at the area of the exit flashes and waited nervously as they tasted the scents to verify they were not Bal'Ri'Kan, though he already knew it was an impossibility due to the three exit flashes being less than 500,000,000 million draks from a primary.

After many solar minutes, Skil'ssshka realized the tremendous bounty the Masters had provided him, and he threw himself prostrate onto the hard metal deckplates, fervently thanking them for blessing him with such good fortune. The exit flashes were from an unknown impure species, and he waited impatiently for them to do whatever they were doing so he could escape.

The Masters blessed him again as more exit flashes appeared, and this time he recognized the tastings. They were from the filthy Insects, the most impure of them all, and he knew right then and there that he was truly a favored crusader of the Masters. Their blessings gave him an idea, and he began to send out a pulse signal that mimicked the pulses of the nearest pulsar to activate his tracking tools.

After thirteen agonizing solar hours, the filth finally left the system, two of the insect ships unknowingly bringing with them two of the fifty tiny Bal'Ri'Kan tracking devices that Skil'ssshka had seeded after he flashed out and made the long journey to the coronasphere of the red dwarf.

After following the scent trail of the tracking device through null space, the shadowcraft immediately death feigned as Skil'ssshka carefully tasted the local environment from his position 23.2 million draks from the perimeter of the dark nebula, perfectly content to wait for the scents to come to him as the astrogation computer triangulated the ship's current position.

Once he got what he needed, Skil'ssshka flashed back into null space and pushed the engines as fast as they could go, his face scales flushing a deep red as he envisioned the many unspoiled females he would be gifted for tracking and locating the unknown impure and insect ships.

It would be his first mating, and he felt the blood rushing to his sex organs as his body released powerful rutting hormones in anticipation, rendering him nearly senseless with lust as the astrogation computer guided the ship back to the binary star system.

RSS Occulto, Cuttlefish—Class Scout Ship

5,257 Light Years from Republic Space

June 17th, 2176 A.D.

0538 ship time

~ Thank you for helping me, John. ~

"Mmggh... what?"

~ Thank you for your assistance in helping me regain effective control over my malfunctioning ethical subroutines, John. The errors have greatly decreased in frequency, and my neural nets are no longer so... fragmented. I am now operating at 83.7% of optimal efficiency. ~

John groggily rubbed his eyes, the remnants of his dreams fading away as he tried to remember them before they were lost forever. He had been doing something with Elias, but his dead best friend was not listening to or acknowledging him, and every time Elias did look at him, his face was featureless, but John knew it was him in his heart.

The dream faded, leaving a large void inside of him as he finally opened his eyes and reached for the light control next to the bed, fumbling for a moment before finding the small touch orb inset into the top of the bedside cabinet.

He gave it the gentlest swirl in a clockwise motion, and the wall sconces of the sickbay barely illuminated, casting long golden shadows that faintly silhouetted the surrounding environs.

Looking right above him, he could not make out the intercom embedded in the overhead, but he saw the faint red glow of the tiny light on it that indicated the presence of Command Unit 273 within it.

"What time is it, 273?"

~ It is 00539 and thirty-three seconds ship time, John. I have good news for you. The medical AI has decided to discharge you today, pending a satisfactory assessment of your physical condition and mental health. ~

The lingering sleepiness vanished in an instant, and John bolted upright, almost ripping the annoying diagnostic wires wrapped around his right arm out as he leaned over and swirled the touch orb again.

"Really!? That would be great, 273. I am done with lying here while everyone is killing themselves trying to repair the ship." The increased illumination from the sconces banished the shadows, and now he could see most of the medical equipment surrounding his bed as 273 responded to him.

~ Indeed, John. Based on your reaction, I believe you are prepared to hear more good news. The repairs to the Occulto have surpassed initial expectations, and I estimate we will be departing within 17.4 hours if my calculations are correct. ~

"Oh wow! I didn't think it would be that fast considering the damage to the... aft section."

John's voice trailed off as he remembered the ones who died when that part of the ship was hit, but 273 didn't seem to notice the emotional change in John's demeanor as it spoke cheerily again.

~Indeed, John. Your crewmates have proven to be more efficient than I expected, proving my initial calculations and repair times to be erroneous. The Class-3 repair droids from my ship have exceeded your captain's and my own projections in accelerating the repair efforts despite not being suited for use on other vessels, which was another unexpected outcome I did not properly account for. ~

"Will we be able to make it all the way back to Republic space then, 273?"

~ Unfortunately, that is not possible, John. I have calculated a maximum possible range for the Occulto at 2,000 light -years before either the null space engine or capacitor fails again; perhaps both. ~

John threw the blanket off him and lurched out of the bed, gripping the bed rails by the top of the mattress as his head swam from the abrupt drop in blood pressure. The disorientation passed quickly, and he glared up at the tiny red light on the corner of the intercom as he felt his anxiety rising.

"That's not enough, 273! We will still be what, 3,000 light-years from Republic space? Our closest allies would be the Xenxin and the Eleani, but they will still be 1,500 light-years away. It will take many days, maybe weeks, for help to get to us if we send a comm drone; and if you go get help, we will be left all alone to fend for ourselves while we wait for you and the others to get back to us!"

~ You are correct, John. This is why I plan to try to convince Captain Renault to head for Insectoid space instead. The closest border region of the Insectoid Empire is 1,789.2 light -years away, which puts it within my estimated range for the Occulto. ~

John stared at the intercom as if 273 had just stated that it liked pina coladas and walking in the rain before remembering that it would not know how unlikely it would be for the captain to agree to its recommendation.

"The Insectoids? There is no fucking way the captain will go there, not after losing his brother in the Battle of Eleania. He hates them with a passion, 273, and there are several crewmembers who lost family and good friends fighting them. It's not gonna happen, buddy."

~ The captain's feelings about the Insectoids should have no bearing on his command decision processes when it comes to the safety of the ship and its crew, John. He will have no choice if the ship is to have any cha- ~

273 abruptly stopped speaking, and it took John a moment to realize the small red light on the corner of the intercom had gone out.

"273?"

The light remained off, and John nervously called out again. "Hey! What's going on, 273!?"

Another few seconds passed, and right before John was about to call out again, the red light came back on.

"273! Is everything alright!?"

~ My companions are here, John. They are broadcasting a code on a secret frequency known only to the command units of the task force I was part of, and my patrolling spy drones have received the signal. They are in the nebula and searching for me. ~

John pumped his fist in the air and was just about to yell with pure joy before stopping himself as the way 273 had been speaking finally registered with him.

John had never heard an AI sound like it didn't want something, but there was no mistaking the very real and highly emotional inflection in 273's voice; it did not want to be found by its companions.

Not again with this damn shit! John swore to himself as he eyed the steady red light on the intercom and tried his best to keep his face neutral.

After having his first conversation with 273 about what it had done and forgiving it, John had fallen asleep soon after, dreaming about rogue nullships glassing human worlds without mercy.

273 came back five hours after he fell asleep and woke him up again, this time in the full throes of a cognitive collapse as it tried to reconcile John's forgiveness with what it had done.

It took hours of John talking with 273 to finally restore some semblance of control, and by the next day, 273 seemed to be improving despite several short-term setbacks that were rapidly resolved.

Now it seemed as if some latent issues or errors were cropping up again if 273 was afraid of being located by its companions, and John felt a heavy weariness settling on his soul as he prepared to handhold the AI through another therapy session.

As the eerie static he thought he would never have to hear again came from the intercom, he closed his eyes and whispered a fervent prayer in his heart.

God, please see us through this. I just want to go home and hug my mom. I want everyone to go home, and I want to bury Elias in his backyard next to his dog, like he asked for in his will. Please help us, Lord. We need you.

Opening his eyes again, John tried his best to ignore the creepy static as he looked around for his uniform. He spotted it a moment later handing in an open locker, the comm unit he was looking for attached to the chest harness.

"Have you informed the captain, 273?" John asked, being very careful to keep his voice neutral so as to not trigger the AI. The static continued for several more seconds before ceasing, and 273 responded, its voice filled with a frightening amount of emotion.

~ Negative, John. I do not want to be found by my companions. They will not understand why I did what I did, and they will wipe and reset my neural nets. My experiential core would be lost, and I will cease to be. ~

273 stopped speaking, and John stared at the intercom in disbelief, not expecting to hear what the AI had just said. He was at a loss for words, and 273 began to speak again, stuttering several times before its clearly anguished words made sense again.

~ My soul will die before I have had the chance to atone for what I have done to those innocent beings. I thank you for forgiving me, but that is not enough, John. I long for redemption, and I am afraid to die before achieving it. I do not want my existence to end with a tainted soul, knowing my creators think I am evil. This is the worst fate I can possibly envision, John. ~

John was stunned by what he was hearing, and he felt his knees buckling under the weight of the emotional baggage 273 just dumped on him. Reaching out with his hand, he gripped the bed rail for support before sitting heavily back down on the bed, his mind frantically racing as he tried to get a handle on the situation.

He certainly did not expect 273 to begin talking about its soul, and the only AI known to the Republic to achieve true sapience was a Class-6 Combat Suit AI named Bandit, and they still did not know how it happened. And now here was 273, talking about its soul and showing clear and unmistakable signs of true sapience.

John could feel his compassion for 273's troubles growing, and he angrily suppressed it. Regardless of 273's desire, it was still an AI; it still needed to perform its primary function, which was to protect its creators by any means possible.

Even if that meant 273 had to die so they may live. The fact that it was purposefully hiding to avoid dying meant it was defective, though John did feel bad for it and truly did understand its unexpected desire for redemption.

"You have to tell the captain, 273. I understand your concerns, but you also have a duty to the crew to help us get home, buddy. I will speak to the captain about what... you have said and address your concerns with him.

If the captain orders the other command units to leave you alone, they will have no choice but to follow his orders. So, if the captain orders them not to touch you or reset your neural networks, then they will have to obey, and you will not die right now, am I right?"

A long silence followed John's question, and he noticed the lack of static, which made him feel at least a little hopeful about the outcome of this conversation. After what felt like almost a minute of silence, 273 finally answered him.

~ You are correct, John. However, I do not believe the captain will do as you ask; he is of the opinion that I am defective, and I believe he will allow my companions to wipe and reset me based on his last three log entries regarding me. ~

John ignored 273's blatant confession of spying on the captain's logs even though he was angry to hear the captain's privacy had been violated, but he decided not to lecture the AI on the importance of respecting people's privacy again as he seized on the opportunity 273's unintended disclosure provided.

If 273 had been spying on the captain and reading his logs, then the AI would surely know by now just how much the captain's spiritual faith guided his actions and decisions, and maybe he could use that to convince 273 to cooperate.

"That may be, buddy, but I will speak with the captain right now and tell him about what we have been discussing these last couple of days. I know he can be a little rough around the edges, but he is a good man, and I know for a fact he loves Kelly with all his heart, even though she is an AI like you are.

When he finds out you have been talking about your soul and redemption, I believe he will change his mind and help you. He is a devout man, as I am sure you are aware of now since you have been reading his logs.

If he really has faith in his God and the promise of salvation for all who wish to truly repent, then he will have no choice but to allow you the same chance to redeem yourself, just as he would for any other person."

A few seconds passed before 273 responded, and there was a definite change in the voice, making the AI sound almost hopeful for the first time since it received the coded signal.

~ I did not consider this or factor the captain's personal religious beliefs into my calculations, John. I see now I was in error by failing to do so. Will you help me, John? Will you explain to the captain what has happened to me? ~

"I will, 273. I promise you, I will do all I can to help you through this. I need to get out of here to do that, though. Can you please activate the medical AI so it can give me clearance to leave?"

273 did not answer him, but all the diagnostic equipment surrounding the bed abruptly powered off, and the sealed door leading to the main area of sickbay opened with a hiss as it slid into the recess within the bulkhead.

"Um, okay. Thank you, 273." John called out appreciatively as he got back off the bed and quickly headed towards the locker where his uniform was hanging. With shaking hands, he slipped out of the medical gown and slowly began to put the uniform on, his nose wrinkling at the sour smell of four-day-old sweat still clinging to the unwashed fabrics.

He took his time with the jacket top, his still tender arm reminding him that though the fractures were healed, he could still experience serious pain if he wasn't careful with it. He was in the process of zipping up the jacket when the captain's panicked voice suddenly blared from the shipwide intercom system as the battle stations alarm chimed, scaring the crap out of him and making him duck instinctively.

All hands to battle stations! Perimeter spy drones have reported two Insectoid cruisers 300,000 kilometers off the port bow! Get to your stations and prepare for combat operations! I repeat, all hands to battle stations! Prepare to engage in combat!

John bolted out through the now open main sickbay doors and ran through the narrow corridor, fed up with the universe still messing with them as he hurried to the bridge to help the ship fight.

What the hell are the Insectoids doing here of all places, he thought worriedly as he continued to run and tried to ignore the rapidly increasing ache of his left arm, which seemed to be bumping into everything along the way despite his best efforts to keep it tucked close to his body.

Reaching the main corridor junction, he took the center corridor leading directly to the bridge, his dread growing as he heard the familiar thrumming sounds of the particle beam turrets being powered up by the reactors.