chapter 154
POV: Dean
I was breathing heavily. Surrounding me was my squad, each one of them holding their swords in a ready position. We had been going at this for quite a while. They were all still, unlike me, as my body constantly twitched and moved because it was now alive.
Did I need to actually breathe? No, but it helped cool me down and keep me in peak condition. I remembered when I was still just an object, the calm surety of it all. But everything I did with that body I needed to consciously do. It was what gave us such amazing control over our bodies and why we could fight and overpower anyone with flesh that wasn't of a high rank.
They moved, and my sword moved, blocking incoming attacks faster than any flesh could handle, but they had their own advantages, and I was starting to grasp what they were.
There was no indication that a sword was going to come and cut my Achilles heel, which actually wasn't a weakness, as Lola managed to make two redundancies that would still keep me able to move even if that connection was severed. Yet I got the prickling along my spine that the captain said was intuition.
Mechanical beings didn’t have intuition, at least not in regard to their bodies. It was cold data and calculus that drove us, that moved our bodies. I pushed forward and just barely managed to get away from the blade that almost cut me.
There was no data that indicated the attack was coming, but my body sensed it. Those were the hidden processors of flesh, hidden from the active systems. Instincts. They were so curious and not always right, but the longer you trained, the better they got.
A strike that would have taken the head of one of my squad members was pulled back by me—which was hard to do—but the combat simulation registered it as a kill, and he quickly retreated from the fight.
Swords clashed, the noise constantly ringing. If I was just flesh, the noise would have been distracting, but here came the parts of me that were still mechanical. They allowed me to make such distractions meaningless. The cold assurity of near absolute control over my body allowed me to barely keep myself alive as strikes came from all angles.
I needed to move so that they couldn’t surround me once again. That way, only two or three could attack at the same time. Yet this wouldn’t give me the win. My body was telling me that it needed to move faster. No, it wanted to move faster.
Forcefully, I pushed the mechanical parts and overclocked them, as Lola called it. More power coursing through me gave me a small speed boost. If I used Extended Cut, I would have gotten two of them, but this wasn’t a fight for me to win as fast as I could, it was to continue refining my basics.
This manoeuvre did cost me, as I got a scratch. Fortunately, the combat programme registered it as a minor wound, and I could continue. It took me two more minutes to finally finish the fight. My body was hot enough that each exhale was visible.
“Still not using your skills?” Sam asked me, as he had apparently shown up at some point. That was bad practice on my part. I was too focused on this one fight. Another problem with this new body of mine: it wanted to focus a bit too much on the right now and not on the future.
“There is still a lot to learn so I can adjust to this new body,” I said. My brother nodded seriously.
“Yes, you are right about that. It is so much different than before, but the way it covers both weaknesses, making the whole so much stronger, is incredible.”
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“I do not understand why bio cybernetics isn’t the bigger thing in the galaxy?”
“Probably because we haven’t gotten to any place that’s actually rich enough and powerful enough to have this kind of body in large quantity.” My brother’s words made me think of another possibility as well.
“Or perhaps we just didn’t know. With the minor updates Lola has been doing, would you be able to figure out that we weren’t biological beings, just made flesh?”
He looked at me, scrutinising every inch, and then slowly started to shake his head.
“No, I do not think so, brother. The captain is currently in the command centre, should we ask it now?”
The only person who truly got to go outside the ship during all of what happened after the space portal battle was Bob. We had been in this ship for far too long. Usually, this shouldn’t be a problem, but once again, we found that our expanded minds and new bodies craved new experiences.
I started to move towards the stairs, and my brother followed. The ship, while big, wasn’t that big. We were in the command centre almost immediately, looking at the captain, who was currently in his command chair, different designs and figures floating all around on the screens.
Our previous owner had affinities for technology. There were different names for such individuals, Drone Lord, Technomancer, Tech Warrior, and so on. We followed our previous master for a while, and when he met so many others who were like him. Yet the captain was so different.
None of them made their own technology; they just purchased it and changed what they purchased a little bit, making it better suited for their use. Compared to the captain, they were just script monkeys using what others made and changing it just a bit to make themselves look important.
The captain was the one who actually made things, so many things. Lola was like that as well, but with other expertise. Those two combined made for a scary combination. I do not know exactly what type of classification our current bodies would get, but they were scary.
And right now, the captain was making hard-light weapons. Something I remember my previous master drooling over. It had been one of his goals to get his hands on a hard-light rifle, yet look at the captain, he was making them, improving them.
“Captain?” Sam said, which got his attention.
“Oh, Sam and Dean. You showed up in person, so this must be important?” he said while fully turning to us like none of what he did before mattered, his entire focus on us. Did our previous master ever fully focus on us? I did not remember.
“Captain, now that all of that is behind us,” I said, obviously referring to his mission on the battle moon, “would it be possible for us to accompany you or go by ourselves to visit some of the stations, or any other place we stop at?”
My words made the captain’s head tilt a bit. He sat back, thinking.
“I guess it’s time for me to actually register myself some crew. Would you all be fine with being referred to as cybernetic humans?”
Did that bother me? No, actually the opposite. Being of the same species as the captain, even if just in name, was an honour. I didn’t even have to look towards my brother as we both expressed that it would not bother us at all.
“Perfect. FH, can you start handling that and also open up a gambling budget for both of them.” The captain winked at us, and I was at a loss for words.
“Thank you,” I said, not knowing what else to say.
“While there are things everyone must thank for, this certainly isn’t one. You’re my crew members. You have your own wants and needs. I know you all enjoy gambling, and I bet you would like to find out how good you actually are. Just be careful, don’t want to get into a firefight in every station we stop in.”
We didn’t expect things to go like this. We were pretty sure we could convince the captain to at least let us stretch our legs a little bit, but so much freedom was not what we were ready for. This was a bit overwhelming.
The captain of course saw through us, but his smile was gentle. He was about to turn away from us after he gave us a small nod when FH interrupted.
“Captain, you were a little worried about the fire rate of the point defence. Some of the AIs have noticed something, and I think you should see it.”
We all knew how the new point-defence turret performed. It was incredible. While yes, the fire rate was low, their ability to hit stuff was magical.
The turrets had just enough personality to be able to make human-like choices, but they were still machine enough to have the absolutely scary calculation speed of mechanical brains.
They had less creativity than any of the official crew members, but they didn’t need as much of it as we did. Instead, it was better for them to have that calculation speed, and that combination, I would bet, made them without using skills the best gunners in this galaxy.
“Look, Captain, at long ranges when the bolt finally dispersed, losing its cohesion,” FH was saying while at the same time showing video of a test firing.
When the bolt was surrounded by tiny rocks, it somehow missed every single one, but when it started to dissipate, it not only pushed the rocks surrounding it but did damage to them.
The captain leaned forward almost out of his seat. “Again,” he said, his eyes intense. Then almost as a whisper we heard, “Flak?”
He was quiet for some time as the video played on repeat. Every once in a while he mumbled something. Most of the time we didn’t catch what he said, but sometimes I did understand.
“The time the bolt stays intact… should be able to adjust that?”
“No, but that wouldn’t work.”
“Give a range notch?”
“No, wait…”
And then he started what I could only describe as mad cackling. “Oh yes, that would work!”
Sam and Dean looked at each other, a bit worried, and we could feel FH doing the same towards us. Then the captain stopped.
“Son of a bitch, I need to redesign this thing so much. Fuck. Bob, I need your help!” he yelled out loud and through our bond network, so we all heard. This brought a smile to my face.