The starships outnumbered the stars.
The pilot of a lone fighter craft was not fond of the swarm
of vessels behind him. At least a thousand fighters, not unlike the make of his
own, gave chase, flinging scarlet, super-heated slugs past his hull trying to
score a direct hit. He had enough distance from them to render their weapons wildly
inaccurate—for now at least.
A precarious voice broke the monotony of the danger. “This
is quite the dilemma you’ve got us into, you know that right?” It asked with a
slight tremor.
The pilot had almost forgotten. Like his pursuers, he was
neither fond of his synthetic passenger that sat in the cramped quarters at the
back. It had a glowing set of red eyes and a mouthpiece amidst its globular
black head. Its appearance and presence made things slightly more nerve-wracking,
but the pilot remained careful not to show any signs of pressure to his newly
acquainted “friend”: a Nemis bot that happened to be in the wrong place at the
wrong time. Naturally, it became a problem.
“Calm down.”
“Calm down?” It became irritated, which was hard for a synthetic
to do. “You’re telling me to calm down when we have two hundred squadrons of
BATs behind us? Not to mention that we clearly have no idea where we’re going?”
But the pilot did have an idea. Ahead a gigantic green jewel
shimmered in the light of the sun behind them. “We’re going there.” The pilot
pointed.
“How?”
The pilot accelerated, forcing the synthetic into a panic.
It wailed almost uncontrollably when he decided to put the fighter craft into a
barrel, dodging another round of deadly lasers.
“You must be mad. How can you be like this in this kind of
situation? Do you know what you’re doing?”
The pilot ignored the knock-off again, jamming the fighter’s
control stick in the opposite direction to send it into another barrel roll.
The synthetic screamed, its cries unheeded by the pilot.
“I don’t know how I got into this. Does this thing have an
eject button?”
“You’re not going anywhere.” The pilot was firm in his
answer.
“They want you, not me, you buffoon. Anyways, you’re human,
what were you doing onboard a Nemis flagship, of all things?”
What was he doing there? He wondered. He’ll answer that soon
enough.
“You’ve never seen a human up close before?” The pilot
asked.
“Of course I have. Numerous occasions, actually. There was one
time when our fleet was attacking Grandolure. Plenty of humans. Thousands even.
And there was not one I couldn’t kill: the big boss leaves all that fun stuff
for the HKs. Can you believe that?”
This was not the time to be having small talk, the pilot thought.
He wrestled with the controls a bit, engaging auto-pilot for a brief moment.
The distance between him and his pursuers was greater now. They should have no
problem easily dodging the Nemis barrages now. He spent the free time fiddling
with the shields, optimizing the rear generator for maximum defense against any
stray bolts that might hit them.
“You know, you’re a very peculiar human, if I might add.”
The synthetic divulged. He didn’t quite know when to stop. “Like I said, I’ve
seen humans before, but none so crass enough to… oh you know, run away from an
entire Nemis fleet. An elite one I might add. You know who you’ve double
crossed back there right?”
The pilot did not respond. He took back control of the
fighter.
“He’s not going to be happy, I can tell you that much.” The
synthetic crossed its arms, pouting. “You know what I heard he does to
organics? He tears them in half and stuffs a whole bunch of wires in them. He
makes them one of us.”
“I don’t think he’ll be doing that to me.” The pilot calmly
remarked. The world ahead was much closer now. It would only be a few minutes
more.
“Why not? I trust you’re just as fragile as any other human.
What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.”
The enemy BATs were closing in again. Their laser fire got
so dangerously close for a few seconds. The shields even absorbed a hit. The
Nemis were finally getting to him, and it only took a thousand of their best
squadrons.
“They’re getting closer. Wonderful. We’ll all be dead soon,
thanks to you, you know.” The synthetic was clearly shaken. It shook its
funny-looking head wildly. “I’m not programmed for this sort of thing. Not at
all.”
“What are you programmed for then?” The pilot asked, another
burst of lasers flying over his starboard wing and past the cockpit.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” The synthetic rudely remarked.
“I would assume you’re programmed for the mundane. You lived
a boring life aboard that starship, didn’t you?”
“Oh yes, a perfectly boring life. Nothing nearly as exciting
as getting blown to bits by your own friends, that’s for sure.”
Well, it was pretty evident that sarcasm was part of its
programming, at least, the pilot thought.
At that moment, a laser made contact with the starboard
wing. The pilot looked over from the cockpit and saw the scorch marks. The
shields managed to repel most of the damage, but it still looked like trouble.
The pilot slammed the acceleration and turned slight to port, avoiding another
barrage, all while the synthetic wailed on sarcastically about the
“excitement”.
This escape was certainly less ideal than he had thought. At
least the planet was only moments away. The pilot could see the details in the
clouds that reigned all over as well as the vast swathes of ocean and lively
forests.
The pilot felt a tap on his shoulder and glanced behind
himself to see the synthetic looking at the diagnostics screen. “That’s some
pretty decent damage.” It pointed to the wing section. “Hey, I probably know
the guy who did that. He’s a pretty good shot you know.”
The pilot shoved the synthetic back. “Sit.”
“Aren’t you lovely?”
“Funny.”
“You know, we probably wouldn’t be chased down like this if
you were nicer.”
“You’re right.”
“I am?”
“Sit.”
“Precisely my point.” The synthetic finally sat down. “Do
you know anything about this planet we’re about to park on?”
The pilot didn’t know anything. He kept quiet.
“Segga Prime. It’s a fairly temperate world. Not a prime
place for colonization… too close to the Other Side for the IG, too useless for
our empire—although I’m sure you’ve probably changed that thought for now.
Perfect, though, for space pirates. Nasty ones too. I heard the bands in this
sector really grind you down to the bone after a good raping or two.”
The synthetic seemed to be pulling facts and rumors straight
from the network. It was still connected, albeit with a startling bit of
independence. This could prove useful, the pilot thought.
There was an unsettling pause.
“Well, do you really want to risk landing there and cause
two problems for yourself? I for one wish to avoid the risk of being raped.”
“Risks are unavoidable now.”
“That certainly makes me more comfortable, thank you very
much.”
Behind his helmet, the pilot smiled a bit.
Segga Prime was closer now. In the next minute they would
break through the atmosphere.
“When we break through atmo, they’ll stop following us.” The
pilot stated, hoping to instill some vigor in his synthetic partner.
“Temporarily.”
“Good to know.” The Nemis bot crossed its arms. “You know a
little bit too much about Nemis protocol for an organic.”
The pilot knew more than a little bit too much. Nemis
protocol called for regrouping before entering any atmosphere of any kind. They
would perform several analyses of chemical compounds, ecosystems, and anomalies,
and then develop tactics and strategies based on their findings. And the most
frightening aspect of all this? The Nemis could perform all of these
computations in almost a flash, if need be.
“Strap in.”
Klaxons went off. The synthetic looked around wildly, almost
confused, grabbing a belt and wrapping it over its waist and shoulders. The
pilot did the same, albeit a lot more calmly. He guessed he should’ve told the
bot not to worry, but decided the hell with it. He did not want to ruin the
moment.
Boom. The BAT broke the atmosphere. Friction caused the air
around the cockpit to flash red and orange. Turbulence shook the canopy.
Despite the rocky entry, the pilot still kept his eyes on the radar display. He
watched as the cloud of blue blips repelled against a white line, slowly
steering away. A bit of relief came over him, but it was soon swept away when
that idiot synthetic starting talking again:
“I-I-I kind o-o-o-of wish we were b-b-b-back b-b-being
chased b-b-by our wonderful friendsss.” Its speech was impeded by the constant
bouncing. It was obviously sensitive to the bumpy ride, its sensory becoming
overloaded with the stresses of trying to adapt to the situation.
The turbulence only became worse as they descended. The
pilot looked to the starboard side when he heard a furious crack, and watched
as the damaged wing erupted into flames and completely disintegrated. The
klaxons went wild. The screech of the ship tearing through the air steadily
grew in pitch and annoyance.
“We’re going to die, we’re going to die, we’re going to
die—!” The synthetic kept screaming. The pilot kept ignoring it.
His hands scrambled to keep the ship together. Port side
wing was burning. The cockpit was cracking. Pressure systems were failing. Then
suddenly, everything became quiet and still.
White became clouds. Clouds soon gave away to green. Green
became vast swathes of tall evergreens.
And then it was all black.
