ItsDirector
patreon
The New Era 20
🕑 Added 2024-12-20 13:20:22 +0000 UTCChapter 20
Subject: Overdrone S655L894T131
Species: Unknown
Species Description: Humanoid
Ship: Grand Vessel of the Universal Omni-Union
Location: Grand Shipyard of the Universal Omni-Union
My hearts pumped wildly as I tried to get my bearings. We had climbed through a hole in the wall. A wall that was supposed to be external hull. It should have been exposed to the void, but we were inside of a relatively small area filled with seating and various unfamiliar electronics. A shuttle?
My question was answered by a shudder that could only be explained by the shuttle detaching from the Grand Vessel. I looked at the aliens that stole me away, wondering what will happen next. One of them pointed toward a bench.
"Sit," it said.
I complied, wondering if the massive metal being was some sort of new tool of the Omni-Union. What else could it be? It can only be another mechanized warrior archetype, one much more menacing than the robotic platforms they typically use. Like the platforms that proceeded the modern ones, they would be phased out in favor of these ones.
But what do they want with me? Have my relations with the rebellion been discovered? Are they acting as Judicials? Am I to be a test-case for new interrogation techniques performed by these towering tools of war?
The one giving orders laid its unfamiliar weapon on a nearby table, then grabbed its head and twisted. To my utter shock, it pulled upward and revealed its head to actually be a helmet. It was organic underneath! And... Strange. Two sharp, blue eyes stared coldly at me from the face of a species I had never seen before. I'd been abducted by aliens!
"Omega?" it asked.
I tilted my head in confusion, "Wha-"
"Let's make this quick," the speakers surrounding me interrupted. "Overdrone S655L894T131, you are hereby detained as a prisoner of war."
"W-war?" I asked, my adrenal pumps trying to fulfill their duties.
"Quiet," the blue-eyed alien commanded.
"Under the Fourth Concordance of the Unification of Stellar Systems you have certain rights of which you must be informed," the speakers continued rapidly. "Prisoners of war must be treated with dignity and respect, and will be protected from violence, intimidation, and other forms of abuse. The only exception to this is interrogation during a war of xenocide, and this exception is applicable to this conflict. You are to be housed in reasonably safe conditions with adequate food, clothing, and medical care. Since you are not a registered species, you will be responsible for informing your caretakers of your needs. You cannot be punished for participation in hostilities, nor can you be forced into fighting against your leaders. Furthermore, you may not be forced to work in dangerous, unhealthy, or degrading conditions. The rest of the rights granted by the Fourth Concordance of the Unification of Stellar Systems have been nullified by the aforementioned exception. Do you understand these rights as they've been recited?"
"I-I guess," I replied. "What I don't understand is who you are at war with. The Omni-Union?"
"That is correct."
I had asked the question without believing an affirmative answer to be possible. Unbelievable! Aliens who are actively fighting the Minds! And they've made it all the way to the Grand Vessel? How have we not heard of this? This changes so much, but... Wait...
"Why me?" I asked.
"Because I have been watching you, Overdrone S655L894T131," the speaker said. "You've been acting differently from the other overdrones, and I believe I know why. You're part of a rebellion."
The other aliens began to remove their helmets, taking turns keeping their weapons trained on me. I sat stunned. Watching me? Why?
"Who are you?" I asked.
"I am Omega, an Artificial Intelligence. I was created by and am currently under contract with the United Systems, an alliance of several species that occupy a galaxy far from here."
An Artificial Intelligence that is capable of streamlined conversation? The only AI that I have worked directly with were barely capable of answering rudimentary questions. Anything more complex than that would result in it providing misinformation because its code requires it to give an answer even if that answer is wrong. This AI had used a figure of speech and inflections to alter the tone of their message. The only AI smart enough to do that are...
"Are you like the Mobile Prime Platforms and mechs?" I asked softly.
"No. I am not organic in origin, and I am much more advanced than they are," it said with a raspy chuckle. "Now, I have some questions for you. Depending on your answers, you may find yourself released from detainment."
The aliens stared at me with two eyes each in silence. The initial shock I felt at their appearance was slowly beginning to fade, but I still found myself terrified of them. I decided to answer the AI's questions as quickly and honestly as I could.
"How large is the rebellion?" Omega asked.
"I don't know," I answered. "We operate in cells, doing what we can to strike at the Omni-Union and either halt or slow the growth of their power until ours can catch up."
"And how's that going?" the alien with brown skin asked with a laugh.
"I'm not sure," I admitted. "The might of the Omni-Union is vast beyond measure. But how can we happily accept things as they are? We are slaves, and so many of us die every day. Even if that weren't they case, the Omni-Union is actively murdering unimaginable numbers of sentients in distant galaxies. Whether it is a deathblow or a small cut, we are obligated to do what we can to stop them."
"We are well aware of the OU's activities," Omega said sternly. "Back on topic, if we were to give you a device capable of communicating with us, would you be able to facilitate communications with the leaders of the rebellion?"
"I... Not directly. I'm not even certain that the rebellion actually has leaders. My handler gives me sabotage suggestions and I report back if I succeed, fail, or decline. I don't know where it gets these suggestions."
"Suggestions? You mean missions?" the alien leader asked.
"No. As I indicated, I'm free to decide whether or not to commit the sabotage. This may be a translation issue, but a mission is something that one is obligated to at least attempt to do."
"Irrelevant. Can you facilitate communications with your handler?" Omega asked.
"Yes."
"And would you be willing to do so?"
"I..."
I looked at the gathered aliens, whose faces went from stern to angry at my pause.
"We have a saying," I continued. "Be wary of a friend that you do not know. How can I be certain that you won't become our new, even harsher masters?"
"Slavery is illegal in the United Systems," the brown alien said.
"We're not in the United Systems," I pointed out. "According to your own AI, it's far from here. If you are able to help us defeat the Omni-Union, what's to stop you from defeating us in turn?"
"First, Omega isn't OUR AI. Pretty sure it's its own thing. Second, we've outlawed slavery because we think it's wrong. That's what's to stop us."
"We can offer assurances, but it simply isn't possible to fully avert your doubts," Omega interjected. "There are other candidates for communications facilitators, though. If you don't comply, you will continued to be detained as a prisoner of war and we will use them instead."
"You'll keep me prisoner? For how long?" I asked.
"Until the war's over," the blue-eyed alien said. "Or until our ship is destroyed by the OU."
I felt a sudden weight on my chest, one I hadn't felt since I was first approached by my handler. Once I had realized how easy the tasks that the rebellion expected of me were, my anxiety had dissipated almost entirely. But this conversation had forced me to face a few hard truths.
Our rebellion would not be successful in my lifetime. We poke, prod, and occasionally leave a small cut, but that isn't nearly enough to take down a nlivn {Mythical predator known for its massive size} as big as the Omni-Union. For any of us to see freedom with our own eyes, we will have to fight. We will have to kill.
To my shame, I realized that my hesitancy wasn't due to mistrust. That was just a convenient excuse. No, it was cowardice rearing its hideous head. The thought of having to fight and kill my former coworkers, employees, and friends sent shivers through my spine and placed a lump firmly in my throat.
Is this how we all feel? Surely not. If all of us were afraid to fight, there never would have been a rebellion. No, I have to get ahold of myself. Rebellions are not won with cowards. If I ever want to see the Omni-Union topple over, I will have to push it with my own hands.
"Okay," I said with a grim determination. "What do I have to do?"
"I suspect that you utilize a specialized microchip to make contact with the rebellion," Omega replied. "We will need access to it."
"Microchip?" I asked, unfamiliar with the term.
"The object that you insert under your right eye when you are alone."
"Oh, the data-card. Okay."
I took a breath to steady my nerves and opened the hidden storage space in my left thigh, pulling out the data-card and giving it to the blue-eyed alien. It walked over to one of the electronic devices and placed the card on its surface. A bright line shone below the card, and several small mechanical limbs moved around it.
"I see," Omega said. "The data shard alters several of your software systems. It creates a ghost profile that mimics your current status and remains connected with the OU's network, then alters your user interface to give you access to functions that are not normally accessible. One of these functions is a messaging network, with which you contact your handler."
"Y-yes, that's correct," I replied.
"We will need to access this network."
"To speak to my handler?"
"Hmm. No, I have a better idea. Your handler may not be as compliant as you are. Depending on how the network is set up, though, I may be able to bypass your handler entirely and speak directly to the leader or leaders of your rebellion. That will save us quite a lot of time."
"I see."
"Okay, I'm done with the card. Please return it to him, staff sergeant."
Blue-eyes grabbed the data-card from the machine's surface and stepped toward me. It studied me for a moment, then held out my card. With another deep breath, I took it and placed it back into my thigh.
"Now what?" I asked.
"Now we are going to return you to the Grand Vessel as if nothing happened," the AI chuckled. "I have made certain that damage has been done to the data network in your area, so you will have a plausible explanation for why you were disconnected. Once things have settled down, contact your handler, business as usual."
"Should I tell them about you?"
"Information security is paramount. The Omni-Union does not know of our presence, and your handler may change that. If we are revealed, the odds of victory diminish drastically."
"Okay, I understand."
"If I am unable to make contact with your leaders, I will instead make contact with you and provide further instructions. Also, if you attempt to inform the Omni-Union of us I will prevent you from doing so and vent the atmosphere in your location, regardless of who is with you in that location."
"O-okay. I won't."
A small shudder shook the shuttle.
"That's our stop," Blue-eyes said gruffly. "Get up."
"I agreed to help, you know," I replied as I complied.
"Yeah, staffsarnt, don't be rude," the brown alien added with a laugh.
"Stow it, Simmons. Helmets on."
The aliens put their helmets back on, taking turns guarding me. Once they were finished, Staffsarnt pointed at the hatch in the floor.
"Once that opens, climb through," it said. "Then go about your business. Contact your handler at the next available opportunity. Make up a reason to do so."
"Okay," I replied.
A grinding noise came from the floor, and we waited in silence for it to open. A sharp hiss made me jump, and the floor slowly opened to reveal one of the Grand Vessels many, many corridors. With a final glance back at the aliens, I climbed through the hole. The shift in gravity nearly made me fall on my face, but I caught myself in time.
"Remember, you never saw us," one of the aliens said.
"O-okay," I replied.
I cast a nervous glance down either side of the hallway while the hatch began to close behind me. As I began to walk toward my office, I heard the aliens speak to each other just before the hatch closed.
"You never saw us," the voice of the brown alien said in a mocking tone. "You're so fucking cool, Johnson."
"Shut the fuck up, Simmons."
Comments
David Ellis
So, was Johnson making a reference to the opening scene of the 80s Dune movie? If so, I hope Simmons gives him a 3D print of Sting in a metal Harkonnen speedo to continue needling him 😄
DarkValorWolf
lmao Simmons
