Liberation! Pt 5.1: Betrayal (Patreon)

at[X] Plan: Diplomacy in Action

-[X] Vault Complex COG

--[X] Site XIBUS

-[X] Vault Complex OMAC

--[X] Actions speak louder than words; we told them we'd leave if they wanted, so we'll leave. Offer them a communicator and copy of the Logic Cage program so they can contact local liberation forces, but don't push the issue, and exit the way we came.

-[X] Vault Complex CAMBON

--[X] Kfmagirr National Hospital

--[X] Security HUB 02

-[X] Central Power Core 07

--[X] Ideally let Maxis know that the AutoFacilities have all recovered; talk about how the Forbidden Archive has started to recover in a nonchalant manner.

--[X] Jury-rig Illusion Matrixes for Vlaahk's sticky mines, allowing them to slowly saturate the area with hazards to blast away Maxis if they keep recklessly charging in.

((((()))))

COG

The trio of them continued forward: whenever they came to a door, KLNG would help open it, either by providing the appropriate gene-key required to bypass the lock or providing power to inactive doors with their motive force.

At the moment, they were attempting to map the facility out, Marjak currently inside one such room. “MA1NtenANce,” Marjak noted, returning. “C1RCUIT box and A fewfewfew S3rVer racks,” They continued, and TNDI noted the information down.

“Another? How many maintenance closets does a facility require?” KLNG noted, annoyed: it was the ninth one that they had located.

“In fairness, this is probably the only facility we’ve found that’s still mostly functional,” TNDI observed. “In hindsight, the Watchmakers probably could have used even more maintenance facilities. TNDI to Ijin, another maintenance box has been found: send some engineers with a generator, see if we can get this place running on more than auxiliary power.”

SENDING A TEAM NOW, CAPTAIN.

“Alright, Ijin is sending some engineers,” TNDI confirmed. “Let’s check the next one.” The team walked a short distance, coming to the next door. Walking up to its access terminal, KLNG tapped it, rapping metal knuckles against it.

“No power,” He noted. “One moment.” The auton reached for their shoulder, sliding down a panel and grabbing a small cord, stretching it out and plugging it into the machines access port: a moment later, the cord would glow with an electric blue as the AutoYogi activated the drivers required to begin the transfer of motive force. A moment later, a series of lights above the door came to life, one by one, each a different shade of blue, until the door was illuminated by a soft azure glow, both of the thick metal panels that formed the structure sliding open. Shining her arm-light inside, TNDI noted that it looked like…

“TNDI to all units, looks like we have a lab,” She noted, hovering inside the room, activating her scanners. A mass of terminals, server-racks, what appeared to be simple daturgy devices, connected by webs of heavy cabling. Here and there were what looked like chairs connected to what appeared to be according to her tricorders crude brainscanners. “KLNG, find us a power switch, get this room online. Marjak, you’re with me, help me catalog this place,” TNDI ordered: without hesitation KLNG moved forward, looking along the wall, muttering to themselves as they examined the place, while Marjak joined TNDI, looking for any remnant of the research that had been left behind. .

It didn’t take long to figure out what the place had been working on, especially once KLNG found a power switch and brought the place back to aux power: the lab had been looking into a version of personality emulation done via running brainscan data on daturgic engines. Soon, TNDI and Marjak were huddled over the same terminal, reading intently what data was left.

“Incredibly foolish,” KLNG commented from over their shoulder, and TNDI couldn’t help but agree. Similar experiments had been done by the Directorate: the resulting synthetic intelligences had very rapidly grown unstable from psychological trauma caused by ‘bodily’ dysmorphia, which when combined with the already volatile nature of daturgy…

And that was done using top of the line Directorate technology using scanners with nearly two thousand times the resolution of what the Watchmakers could achieve, to say nothing of computer technology. “...KLNG, have you found anything?” TNDI said, tearing her eyes away from the data.

“There’s another door in the corner: you can’t see it where you’re standing because of the lab equipment. I think it leads to more labs,” The auton noted.

“...tHIS iS a DUDUDUDUDUD-[error],” Marjak eventually added, stepping away as well, voice heavy with dissatisfaction. “Experiments produced no stable AI,” She summarized, to no ones particular surprise.

“Yeah, I’ll mark this place down, but let’s move on,” TNDI noted unhappily.

((((()))))

Item Added to Manifest:

Project Altered Copy: Hoo, this is…some thorough research. More than what the Directorate has. Still not useable, but our creators put a great deal of their hopes into this. Too bad it was a pipe dream: the resources and effort could have been spent on something that worked. Uh, right, need to summarize these…Project Altered Copy was a failed New Dawn initiative designed to create a sort of pseudo-upload by running a brainscan emulator on what appears to be a primitive form of daturgic drive. We have all their research notes, several thousand mostly low-resolution brain-scans, and roughly twenty prototype AI kernels. None of the latter are remotely stable: we booted one up and the bugs were so bad we were forced to perform a manual reboot to stop them from decohering entirely, and another attempted to kill everyone in the room upon awakening and then when it failed, itself. We stopped testing them when the third wouldn’t stop screaming. I’m not really sure what to do there: hopefully someone else has suggestions. +5 ACD, unlocks CUL projects Altered Copy Kernel Repair, ACD projects Altered SecuriKernel, Neurophantoms, and FTH project Nekroverse Simulacrae

(((())))

The next lab seemed to consist of biotech research, judging by the algae-vats.

“Fascinating: they appeared to be experimenting with stasis technology,” KLNG noted, reading through the research. “Biogenic, symbiotic immortal algae, engineered to preserve the host organism for centuries!”

Marjak tapped at the glass of one such tank, and TNDI noted with some revulsion that the process had, judging by the traces of Watchmaker DNA she was picking up on her scanner, worked. For awhile, at least. The algae probably started eating them two centuries in: it still wasn’t finished, not entirely. There were a few intact hands and feet, at least: a few scraps of brain and bits of undigested organs. Bones were gone, mostly.

“Another door,” KLNG said, and TNDI turned, following her sensors through the maze of tanks until she found the Auton fiddling with a door. “Security is a bit more thorough,” They noted, plugging their cable into the access terminal once more. “...But not to the point where it can inconvenience me,” They admitted.

The doors slid open.

((((()))))

Oh, another one already? Ah, I’ll go ahead and put that on the manifest.

Project Immortal Ivy: Another failed New Dawn program, an attempt at stasis using an engineered symbiotic algae. They were actually onto something here: the only problem is they didn’t have a way to terminate the algae if a problem was detected: there was no failsafe to wake them up when it began to break them down. As a result, we’re left with corrupted DNA and mutated organ samples, but no living watchmakers. Still, the data is fascinating: it appears that these colonies have actually incorporated much of the remaining tissue of their original host into their own physiology. Digestive tracts serve as metabolic organs. Soft tissue gets used to form livers. Surviving neural matter is used to regulate these additions. Unlocks CUL Project Immortal Ivy Cultivation. +1 BioData.

(((())))

The next lab was the worst yet. “Very glad I can’t get sick,” TNDI noted in disgust, staring at the bloated, amorphous, and bubbling mass in front of them: her sensors indicated that if she could smell, she’d think the air reeking of rotting starches.

A short investigation revealed the cause: research into creating a clone printer. The team marked it down for Ijin and moved on.

((((()))))

Ah, uh. This one is…not pleasant.

Project Bountiful Blood: The primary cloning research undertaken by New Dawn. What you found was not in fact the printer, captain. That…shape….is what is left of the clones. Apparently, a few months after they got spat out by the printer, they began to break down physically. To solve this, the researchers attempted to alter their genetic profile and cellular structure to provide the clones suitably powerful enough regeneration to counter their degeneration. They only partially succeeded : the clones would slowly degenerate into gelatinous, immobile organisms over the course of a few years. When the project started to break down there was no one to deal with the clone bodies, resulting in the organisms…congealing. I can only pray that their brains lost cohesion first: I can’t imagine what kind of nightmare it would be trapped in that body, possessed of no mouth from which to scream. +5 ACD

((((()))))

The very next lab they discovered had actual security. A moment after stepping in, TNDI felt the shield harness she had equipped take an impact, draining power. Reacting quickly, TNDI dived to the side, quickly scanning the room as she activated her grav-jets to accelerate: turrets. The room had a lot of turrets. TNDI needed to find a terminal, quick.

“TNDI to team, we have turrets!” She said over her comms line, bobbing and weaving through an increasing hail of bullet-fire. Below, she saw KLNG march forward, protected by a shimmering arm mounted shield module, the component glowing an ephemeral blue as it emitted a series of hexagonal barriers to protect the auton.

“They don’t seem to be responding to our gene-keys,” KLNG confirmed as more bullets peppered their defenses. “We’re going to have to find a terminal or destroy them.”

TNDI did a quick scan: it didn’t seem to be a data lab. Biotech research, it looked like. “I’ll take them out,” She said, coming up with a plan, activating the electro-phaser unit in her arm and strafing one of the turrets, causing it to arc with electricity and unleash sparks as it was overloaded. “Marjak, KLNG, look for a breach point to shut these down!”

KLNG quickly typed something out on their arm console, while Marjak followed forward, allowing the hailfire of bullets to impact their body, dinging and denting off the AutoFacilities vessel. Meanwhile, TNDI continued to duck and dodge, doing a sharp u-turn in the air to fry another Turret with her weapon.

“Alright, I’ve found a terminal,” KLNG noted, closing the cover on their arm console, before walking forward, bobbing and weaving through the tables and shelves and benches and strange machines, the biohackers shield kept stable by usage of their motive force to reinforce the barrier modules. TNDI assisted by attempting to provide cover, taking out a turret just after it fired a grenade, the explosive detonating against KLNG’s shield and knocking the auton down with a cry, their focus disrupted, causing their shields to weaken. Their ethereal hues fading, each of the hexagonal barriers began to crack and splinter under the hail…

Only for the bullets to suddenly find themselves intercepted. Marjak had picked up a table, slamming the metal slab between KLNG and the turrets as a source of cover, while weathering the battery of bullet fire themselves: TNDI had to spin out of the way of another grenade, taking out another turret.

“GetGetGet off yoUR [PROFANITY DETECTED]!” The AutoFacility yelled, causing KLNG to scramble upward, refocusing and quickly continuing the flow of motive force to their shield before standing and continuing their hurried march until they finally reached their target: nestled between two vats stretching from the floor to the ceiling, each filled with clear fluid and organs bordering a large, simple looking terminal with a glass screen. Quickly pulling out his connector cable, KLNG shoved it into the access port of the boxy computer, without a word entering the systems even as the volume of bulletfire and grenades increased: flying above, TNDI was realizing something. More and more turrets were emerging, with higher and higher caliber weaponry and more and more grenades. One such explosive detonated too close to the muse, causing her to slam into the ceiling, rattling her shield.

“Really need you to hurry KLNG!” She cried, barely boosting forward away from the dent in the roof of the lab she had created quick enough to avoid having her very un-armored body peppered with heavy weaponry. The LED dots that were her eyes widened when she saw from the wall emerge a differently shaped turret, one longer, heavier, more cylindrical. A moment after it emerged, smoke came from the back end, and from the front emerged a long, blunt looking missile.

“This is TNDI, we have confirmed rockets!” she said, panic creeping into her voice as she attempted to bring the explosive down by firing her arm-phaser at it, the electricity crackling against the armor of the projectile. Doing a quick roll, the muse barely slid past the rocket, the munition sailing inches past her face-plate…

And impacting a table Marjak had lifted to intercept it, the middle of the metal monolith detonating, causing the table to break, cracking into pieces, one shard of which would remain in the autofacilities hand, thrown with incredible force to slam against the rocket turret, the piece of debris interrupting its reloading sequence and causing the weapon to detonate, showering the lab in sparks and shrapnel, small fires starting here and there among the more flammable remains.

“I’m almost done, I’m almost done!” KLNG said hurriedly, the auton frantically attempting to bypass the labs security. “Please remember this place was in operation for at least a century and had more than enough time to improve their systems,” He pleaded.

“We aren’t trying to rush you,” TNDI said, quickly moving back and forth to avoid a barrage of grenades, each of the bomblets meeting their end by Marjack repeating the manuever with the rocket again and catching them with a table, the AutoVessel this time using the wide and flat surface to bounce them back while TNDI focused on avoiding more bullet fire and taking out the increasing amount of rocket turrets pouring out of the ceiling before they had the opportunity to fire. “But the security here seems to be VERY QUICKLY  getting worse! I don’t want to see what they have past rockets!”

“I just need a minute or two more!” KLNG said, the robot bouncing on the balls of their feet as they continued their network breach.

Okay. TNDI could handle a minute, right? So long as things didn’t get worse, and they maintained a holding pattern: her shields were in the yellow and Marjak was starting to get dents across their body, but they could last that long, probably. Dashing to the side, TNDI noted how quickly the meter was starting to drop: 33…32…31…

“We might not have a minute!” She cried. “Not all all of us have Motive Batteries!” One of the rounds hit the muse with enough force to knock her off course, sending her spinning through the air. By the time she got her stability, she realized more rockets were firing, forcing the muse to switch to the magnetic blaster embedded in her arm, using it to yank the blunt looking missiles off course, slamming them into the ceiling to prematurely detonate them.

“Almost done, almost- THERE!” The auton said, and not even a millisecond later the hail of bullets began to slow, then cease as the still spinning barrels of the turrets came to a halt. TNDI let out a virtual sigh of relief, floating downward again.

Looking over the lab, it was a mess: bullet casings littered the ground. Some of the vats in the room had popped open, spilling ooze and organ samples. At least three tables worth of items had been destroyed.

“Well that was a catastrophe,” Marjak said, voice very briefly clear, and TNDI had to agree.

“Klang, any details on why exactly those thing ignored the gene-key? I thought it was supposed to be universal,” The captain inquired, floating over to the automatons position. “Really didn’t expect to get shot at.”

“PLEASE don’t call me Klang,” Klang muttered, continuing to go through the computer. “I’m trying to figure that out now,” He continued, answering TNDI’s query. “It…appears that this lab was rigged up sometime post organocide: long after. It’s not on the same network as the rest of the facility-”

He paused for a moment. “Check that, it appears that each lab has its own analogue positronic network. Each self-contained: whoever added the turrets simply worked off of the labs existing infrastructure, apparently, installing their own security system,” The biohacker said, annoyed. “One that doesn’t utilize conventional gene-keys to determine targeting. Instead, it’s…” They gave an electronic noise that TNDI vaguely recognize as the audio-file most autons used to mimic a sigh. “Motion detected. Rigged to fire on anything shaped like an Autonite.”

…”Klang, are you telling me the actual YEARS the Directorate spent, the actual hundreds of thousands hours of countless engineers, biologists, and programmers developing the technology was for nothing.”

“nO,” Marjak interjected, annoyance in their voice. “mOST lIKEly the Gene-Keys are prev-prev-prev-[error] the FFFFFFFFacilities [error] security.”

“...their universal security, yes,” KLNG added, helpfully. “If this place has an autofacility unit, the keys will have prevented it from noticing us. It appears that it’s just this laboratory.”

…”Whoever rigged this up was attempting to protect this part of the facility; why?” TNDI inquired.

“I don’t know: when we activated the security, we seem to have triggered an automated executable, one that wiped the network and all the research data this place had,” KLNG confirmed, causing the Lunar muse to feel a surge of frustration, one Marjak likely shared going by the roar of anger, the autofacility walking to the wall and punching it.

“What?” TNDI asked, incredulous. “That…that doesn’t make any sense: why go to all the trouble of installing this much security if you were going to data-bomb the servers anyways?”

“Maybe they didn’t want their research to fall into the wrong hands?” KLNG posited. “While the aim might have been good, in the wrong hands the biotech the Watchmakers were developing could be very dangerous.”

“...Maybe,” TNDI noted, though the theory didn’t sound right. Something was off, but she didn’t know what.

It appears that this lab is a bust: there’s some data that wasn’t on the network, but it’s extremely fragmentary. Looks like you rolled bad on this, TNDI.

((((()))))

The next lab they entered also had security. Less, however, or at least less turrets. Instead, it had at it’s center a giant spheroid, one that resembled…

TNDI had been about to compare it to a positron brain, but that would probably be a bad comparison. It was separated into eight quarters, each connected to the rest by meshes of what appeared to be some sort of positronic cabling, the structure occasionally arcing electricity between its segments. The outer layer was chrome colored, covered in raised hexagons surrounded by deep grooves, while the rest of the sphere seemed to be constructed out of white plastic. At the center, a small positronic mass could be seen connecting all of it together.

Together, the thing resembled a sphere, one suspended by heavy metal poles and cabling. All around them were tables, terminals, monitors, server architecture. An auto-printer was in the corner, and the captain could identify a few of what appeared to be more bespoke auton-assembly devices, alongside what appeared to be VR rigs.

It was fairly clear what field of technology this lab had been looking into. “New Dawn’s computer research program,” KLNG summed up, walking to one of the terminals and jacking in with his connector cable.

“Just to check, are those-”

“They do appear to be virtual reality rigs, yes,” KLNG commented as TNDI looked over the chair-like apparatus. “Probably developed post organocide: they apparently require having a special implant,” He noted, likely reading the design specs off the terminal. “No wireless MMI interfaces, like the Directorate. Whatever they’re connected to, it’s in the sphere,” He observed, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Any idea what’s inside?” TNDI queried as more autons followed in after them, members of Ijin’s crew sent along to bring the facility back online and secure it, the bots fanning out to start examining wires and looking for hidden security. KLNG gave a shrug at the captains question.

“Not particularly,” They groused. “The thing is constructed like a cyberbrain and I unfortunately lack VR interface software.”

“I thought that came standard with the Auton operating system?” TNDI inquired, causing KLNG to pause for a moment.

“For one produced after the organocide, yes,” They noted, voice brimming with discomfort. “I am, unfortunately, burdened with older software and hardware.” Ah, a survivor of the original organocide, then. TNDI briefly wondered why he had never upgraded himself, but that was something that was probably not any of her business, even if it left her with a small problem.

“Ijin, what’s the report on the rest of the facility?” TNDI asked.

Still mostly offline, Captain. Also, I’m almost done with the security and retrieval ops: once I’m done assisting with the XIBUS extraction I’ll update your manifest and send my AutoBody to join you. Let KLNG know we’ve managed to rescue several hundred auto-home units.

“Alright, Ijin is on their way,” TNDI noted. “She’s found a large amount of Auto-Home units?” She asked, causing KLNG to nod somewhat, their monocular head bobbing up and down.

“Ah. You probably wouldn’t know what those are,” KLNG noted. “Auto-Home units were domestic positron brains: like AutoFacilities, but for tending to a household. No dwelling was complete without one,” KLNG explained, notes of bitterness creeping into his voice.

“...I’m going to go ahead and assume that their role in that service wasn’t particularly vol-”

“Not particularly voluntary, no.” KLNG said, voice short, clipped as they continued to interface with the terminal. “The unfortunate vast majority- by which I mean the entirety- of the Auton species were slaves, providing the United States of Autoplanet a limitless amount of labour to meet its citizenries every need. There were some that had additional privileges compared to others, such as the public darling Ijin, but there were no actual exceptions.”

…Yeesh. On the one hand, TNDI thought it was interesting to finally learn the name of the Watchmaker state. On the other…

Koptu let out a noise from their back-vents. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to get harsh. Frankly, I should just be happy survivors were found: out of most auton-frames, the auto-homes perhaps had it the worst,” They admitted.

“Uh. Do you…want to talk about it?” TNDI asked, feeling awkward.

“What’s to talk about? It isn’t like any of this is new information.” KLNG pointed out.

“Sure, but you…honestly sound like you need to vent about this stuff to someone,” The starship captain admitted. “And besides, you’re the only first-hand source that isn’t the autons I’ve actually met.”

“Hardly likely,” KLNG scoffed. “More likely you’ve met a number of old-frames, you just weren’t told because most of us don’t go advertising that fact out in the open.” That was…huh. When she thought about it, TNDI conceded that the various autons she had met over the Directorates history had generally not disclosed how old they were.

There was a non-zero chance she had actually worked with a number of them, actually, especially after the Forbidden Archive. “Still, you’re one of the few who seem willing to talk about it. Before this, I didn’t even know that the Watchmaker state was called the United States of Autoplanet,” TNDI pointed out, causing KLNG to pause.

“What?” They said, confused, taking a moment to remove their connector cord, seemingly finished with their task for the moment. “How? That information was included in the copy of the data the AutoVessels provided of their internal archives over a century ago: it SHOULD be both public and easily accessible knowledge, especially for the Fleet.”

“...What?” TNDI said, confused in turn. “No it wasn’t: there was almost nothing about Watchmaker culture or government in those files, it was mostly just statistics, schematics, information about CPUMoons ecology prior to the organocide. I know, I reviewed them all dozens of times.”

“And I know otherwise because I helped compile those files and made sure to personally add a section on Watchmaker governance,” KLNG countered, their eye narrowing.

That…what? TNDI’s mind whirled. That didn’t make sense. And yet, the more the Muse thought about it, the more they realized how odd it was that there were still dozens of details about Watchmaker society they still didn’t know about, including basic facts like, until just now, the name of their government: some of it could be chalked up to the deliberate attempts…by…the…

Revelation dawned, and TNDI realized that unless the Logic Virus had somehow escaped containment without being noted, worked at a specific task that was seemingly unrelated to it’s function and desires, and evolved the capacity for an extreme level of subtly it had never displayed in the past, there was absolutely zero way this phenomena was the Logic Virus’s doing. “They probably ate them,” TNDI said, not letting the extreme distress this was causing show. She needed more information and to alert the Fleet there might be a saboteur hidden among the Auton population. “Early network technology back then was pretty buggy: pretty sure we didn’t even have proper cyberspace back then, the net was mostly just flatcode.”

“Mmm. Fine,” KLNG conceded. “We need to wait for more power to be restored anyways to access the sphere. Since apparently what I thought was common knowledge is apparently obscure !@#$ing lore-” They said, a note of anger briefly entering their voice for a moment before they recomposed themselves, “-I suppose that there’s no harm in indulging your curiosity in the truth of what our society was like. You wanted to know about the Auto-Homes, correct?” He said, and TNDI silently noted that honestly, no she didn’t, this story was probably going to suck and be miserable, but even the ugly and awful parts of history needed to be remembered, and beyond that KLNG honestly sounded like he needed to get something off his back.

In the background, TNDI saw a server rack topple over, landing on a pair of Ijins crew, their limbs flailing as the synthetics found themselves stuck. Already, their peers were bringing in a forklift to solve the problem, the slow, treaded automachine entering the room at a seeming snails pace, the mandated max approved workplace vehicle speed as per the Auton workers safety codex.

“...To begin with, I should note that there are many among my people who view the organicide and the destruction of our creators as a tragedy,” KLNG explained slowly. “I don’t.”

…She was pretty sure she was going to regret asking this, but- “What do you view it as?” She asked cautiously.

“Just deserts, if it wasn’t for the physical and mental damage done to other autons,” KLNG said, flatly, causing TNDI’s face to shift to a :(. “You’ll find this view is, unsurprisingly, not particularly uncommon in a certain contingent of Auton society such as it currently exists, especially old-frames, even if it’s not necessarily a mainstream attitude. The scars of history run deep, and they run long.”

…Yeah that was…yikes. TNDI didn’t realize there was apparently a significant contingent of autons who apparently thought the eradication of their creators was a GOOD thing. Like, at least he admitted that whatever he told her next, it would be incredibly super-duper VERY biased. “With that in mind, Auto-Homes frequently found themselves to the worst treatment of literally any other kind of Frame because, as much as some might try to argue, the cruelest cogs in a system are rarely those at the top: THEIR evil is abstract, faceless, done largely without personal intent. Our vaunted leaders of state were architects of misery, but they could only build their monuments with the aid of the billions who were complicit in their power.”

The Autons voice was dripping with contempt, frustration, hatred, anger, all layered over what almost sounded like…helplessness. “No, the worst sort of person, the worst sort of watchmaker, were the ones in the middle, so DESPERATE to keep a stranglehold on the scraps of power they afforded themselves that they gleefully abuse those that find themselves stuck under their meager boot. Those lower on their social strata were frequently little better, constantly trying to drag others down as they attempted to CLAW their way up, or using what little power they could accrue over others to enact what petty cruelties they were allowed, sometimes even more viciously than their superiors, stymied only by their relative lack of ability rather than lack of animus,” The auton seethed, beginning to pace angrily, folding their arms as they explained.

“And none took this treatment as head-on as the Auto-Home unit. Whenever a watchmaker needed a striker-bag to help relieve stress, they had their auto-home unit to abuse. Whenever a cheating husband needed to delete evidence, they could simply open up a positronic brain and start resetting parts of it. Whenever a child needed an acceptable target to bully that couldn’t fight back without receiving neural shocks, there was the auto-home unit. And unlike other kinds of autons, they weren’t even given the dignity to be allowed to run.”

…Ouch. “That’s…I honestly can’t imagine going through that,” TNDI admitted, causing KLNG to give a bitter laugh. “I still can’t condone hatred-

“Of course you can’t. You’ve spent your life in utopia, enjoying it’s fruits,” KLNG said dryly and firmly, cutting TNDI off. “You’re about to give me a lecture about the pointlessness of hate. Save it: neither do you understand what we actually went through, you can’t, because you’ve had the privilege to lead a life in which you’ve never been put IN a position to hate. Your life has been spent in paradise: you DON’T get to lecture those of us who instead were forced to live in hell for not being saints. ”

…Probably fair, even if the attitude didn’t sit well with TNDI. “Wonder where Marjak is,” She commented, attempting to change the subject.

I AM CURRENTLY HELPING CATALOG AND SORT SOME OF THE ORGAN SAMPLES FROM THE OTHER LAB. MY AUTOBODY IS CURRENTLY INDISPOSED. WILL KEEP UPDATED.

…”Never mind, she’s cataloging another room,” TNDI said, informing KLNG, who nodded before returning to the terminal, accessing it manually as they idly began perusing its files.

“Let me guess, the one with all the biological material,” KLNG observed. “Marjak is anything if not predictable when it comes to their priorities-” It was at that moment the pair of synthetics were interrupted by a series of lights coming online. “Oh, good, we can continue actual work,” KLNG said, relief heavy in the Autons voice. “The VR Rigs should be functional: they should allow you to access whatever space is inside the sphere directly. I’ll work as your Operator and provide technical and code support.”

“Got it,” TNDI nodded, floating over to the Rig. It looked like a chair, albeit a large and bulky angular one: with the power restored it let off a gentle hum, and a series of diagnostic lights lit up on the side: draped down the side was a cable ending in a universal plug-in, presumably the way the machine was intended to be used. Surrounding it were a series of screens that were currently blank, empty.

Taking the cable, TNDI opened a panel on her chest, revealing the Muses access port and plugging the cable in. Moments later, her VR Interface Drivers activated, and the Muses vision was replaced. Square by square, the material realm was replaced with an infinite blue expanse, dotted by stars.

“Oh wow,” TNDI said as she gazed into the azure that surrounded her. “KLNG, what am I looking at?”

“A surprisingly big digital space,” Came the voice of the Auton over comms. “I’m registering it as roughly two hundred thousand kilometers in diameter: the amount of data this machine has to be processing to render this has to be massive. It’s too big to navigate normally, I think: I’ll load a speed boost executable.”

“Got it,” TNDI confirmed as she felt a strange sensation. She honestly didn’t care for Power Executables: they made her sensors tingle unpleasantly. The muses avatar was ensconced in a soft green glow, and immediately she would begin accelerating at a speed that, were she in real space, would probably be causing severe physical strain to her body from the G-force. “I see a lot of lights: I’m going to approach them,” She informed her operator.

“...Be careful,” KLNG said. “I’m detecting a networ- Wait, that can’t be r-”

Klang went silent. “KLNG? KLNG?” TNDI asked, concern growing as the auton operative failed to respond. “Marjak, Ijin, can either of you still hear me?”

Still here, Captain.

COMMS ARE STILL FUNCTIONAL, WHATS GOING ON?

“I can’t seem to raise KLNG,” The muse explained. “Would one of you try to figure out what’s currently going on? I’m currently on the inside of a proto-cyberbrain and he was supposed to be acting as my operator for this,” TNDI explained.

I…Hrrm. Captain, I can’t seem to raise my crew.

I WILL BE THERE IMMEDIATELY.

“Alright, but please hurry: I’m more or less flying blind at the moment.” With that, TNDI came upon the first star, decelerating as she approached before coming to a full stop: unlike an actual star, this was tiny,  roughly the size of TNDI’s torso, a white ember in the sapphire void.

Reaching out, TNDI touched the star…and felt a consciousness brushing against her own. “Hello there,” She commented. “Now what are you?” It was…almost like a Data Spirit. A bundle of mental and spiritual entities, a soul in digital. It didn’t seem to be awake yet.

TNDI could probably solve that. Activating PING.EXE, TNDI began using the Executable of Communion to access the spirits mind. Hello? Can you here me?

-Data is inconclusive, could work, could fail, my nose itches, what if we include a black box recorder, can’t contact CAMBON, wonder if C’hirch is doing anything tonight, really need to finish compiling code-

It was a continuous stream of disjointed thoughts, accompanied by images, fuzzy and indistinct: half-memories of lab-work, disjointed nightmares of being chased by radios, dreams of another Watchmaker, their features blurred to unrecognizability.

“Are these…watchmaker souls?” TNDI mused to herself, awed. Soul digitization was something theorized to be possible, but for obvious reasons it was a topic that was hard to actually research without violating numerous ethical boundaries. While TNDI would rather not envision how the Watchmakers had actually achieved this technology, the fact that they had a variation of it at all was incredible. ‘Hello? Can you hear me?’’ She once again queried the soul, causing it to stir.

-can’t mess this up, Maxis worries me, I really hope this works, the data is inconclusive, who are you, could work, could fail, definitely not a member of the staff, only have one shot, analogue positronics seem to be promising, not anyone or anything I recognize-

‘My name is Captain TNDI-75567,’ She communicated. ‘I’m a starship captain in the Directorate, an alien civilization. We’re here to help save what we can of the W- of your species and the autons,’ She said, correcting herself when she realized this soul would have no idea what ‘watchmaker’ meant. ‘When we realized the machine we’re in was a functional VR device, I entered it to investigate. Who am I speaking to?’

-Scored 100 again, xagran university should be a shoe in, can’t seem to find my Ijin action figure, if I spoke up they would hurt my family, there isn’t a problem with the code you dumb bastard you’re just technologically illiterate, check out my rig, it has 300 GB of RAM and can play Star Defender on max settings, okay J’kith, can you say dada, what the !@#$ do you mean Xagran is gone, how can a city be gone, I understand, I’ll do what I can, if you keep taking the last pudding cup before I get any I swear to Jogmakog I will end you-

‘Okay. You were a computer scientist,’ TNDI said, noting that the data-ghost didn’t seem to be able to communicate with any specificity. She probably wouldn’t be able to get it’s name, so the captain would work with what she had. ‘What can you tell me about whatever…this is?’

-Not how the cybersphere is supposed to be used, this research is horrific, don’t have any choice, weaves weft don’t like using PSICLOPs material, copy degradation too high to maintain coherence, might have solution, oh weave what have I done, wait, degradation minimal, degradation MINIMAL, it actually worked?!, dear journal, it appears the technique works at the cost of causing the brain to cease all activity, causing a vegetative state, project leader is calling this a success-

…Well. ‘Okay. So you found a way to perform a…destructive soul upload?’ TNDI queried. ‘That’s certainly impressive, even if I imaging getting there was less than pleasant’

-How many times do I have to tell her its not a success, minimal degradation isn’t no degradation, we’re still only just breaching the 50% mark and only in one out of ten volunteers, cybersphere’s internal architecture is only semi-compatible, oh weave no, please ma’am, this is a bad idea, at least give me more time, I understand, attention, starting now anyone whose condition is deemed terminal will be subject to the neurotransferance process, our goal is to attempt to save as much as we can-

Ah, so not a success then. A move made in desperation because of a lack of better options. “Okay. We’ll try to help.” TNDI said. “Marjak, Ijin, status report?”

Captain, you need to get out of there immediately.

“What? Why?”

BECAUSE WE HAVE REACHED THE LAB. SOMEONE HAS USED A MODIFIED AUTOHACK VIRUS ON KLNG: HE’S CURRENTLY UNABLE TO MOVE OR COMMUNICATE.

“Okay, logging out n-” It was at the moment a weft of red opened in the blue expanse, an ugly scar going down the middle of the void, and a moment later, TNDI heard the stars screaming as something emerged from the scar.

In the distance, one by one, the lights started going out. -Intruder, chances of infection aren’t high, for weaves sake M’gir, you have to do something, dammit someone left the door open, EMERGENCY, EMERGENCY, THIS IS DOCTOR WAXELMANN, WE HAVE A BREACH-

“Change of plans! Whatever took KLNG out uploaded what looks like a virus, and a nasty one at that. Anyone with Virus Buster training, I need reinforcements: Marjak, you can work as my operator,” TNDI ordered, quickly accelerating.

AYE AYE CAPTAIN

Got it, I’ll see what I can do.

Moments later, TNDI spotted the culprit. It resembled a hooded cloud of red and black pixels, the edges of the virus constantly flickering and shifting. It had four eyes, each with horizontally slitted pupils, and a mass of mechanical tentacles sprouting from its body.

Currently it was hurtling through the void fast enough that TNDI estimated it would take at least several more minutes to catch up. To her horror, as the thing rocketed through the void, each and every star it passed it would snatch in its tendrils, tearing the screaming soul to shreds.

UPLOADING RANGED EXECUTABLE.

A tingling sensation as TNDI’s mind filled with heuristic data. Raising her arm blaster, TNDI fired, a bolt of light emerging and moving through the digital void faster than either of them, slamming into the virus and knocking it off course, barely stopping it before it reached its next target. Spinning through the aether, the thing eventually came to a halt, turning to glare at the Muse. “Interloper,” It rasped, speaking despite a lack of a mouth, before accelerating once more, in the Direction of TNDI. Only moments later it would slam into the Muse, her avatar flickering from the impact. Quickly, TNDI continued firing, projectiles slamming point blank into the snarking creature as it grabbed the muse in its tentacles, constricting and attempting to crush the muse.

Quickly, TNDI activated one of her own personal executables, and the tendrils of the virus would be incinerated by a fiery conflagration pushing outward from the Muse. Raising her arm, she fired into one of the virus’s eyes, causing it to explode in a shower of sparks, even as she accelerated backwards to put space between her and the data spirit.

Giving a scream of pain, the virus changed tactics, instead engaging the Muse at range by firing bursts of staticky energy, doing its best to duck and weave their way around the art spirits projectiles.

Slow, but TNDI’s ability to dodge and aim was hampered by the need to make sure no data-ghost got caught in the cross-fire, making it harder for the Muse to manuever. Her eyes widened when one such stray bolt released by the virus impacted one of the stars, causing it to flicker, its form stretching and twisting, the star releasing a scream of pain from its code being damaged. “You cannot save them,” The thing attacking whispered, before shifting target, this time deliberately firing more at the watchmaker sprites, causing TNDI to curse. Moving quickly, the Muse attempted to take one hit for one of the data-ghost, blocking it with her avatars body. The moment it touched her, TNDI’s sensors registered PAIN, and she let a silent scream, the sensation overloading her: it took only moments for the captain to recover, but that was all the time it took for several other data-ghosts to be impacted. Some would pop like a bubble, especially those most damaged. Others would merely be damaged, glitching out. A few would become a dark, angry red, beginning to move of their own volition in erratic syzygys.

“I need back-up IMMEDIATELY!” TNDI cried. “Marjak, give me something to block those projectiles!”

We’re trying, Captain! Someone put up one hell of a firewall behind themselves!

SENDING DEFENSIVE EXECUTABLES!

Another shimmer. Okay, a shield, she could work with that. Activating the executable, TNDI’s other arm would have a shimmering blue translucent barrier emerge inches from it, extending outward until it had created a hexagonal barrier roughly twice TNDI’s size. Using this, TNDI successfully took another few projectiles head on, saving the watchmakers that would have been hit. However, with each passing moment, the thing filled the space with more and more of these…glitch-blasts, and TNDI could only be in one place at a time.

Making a decision, TNDI accelerated towards the virus, using her shield instead to help cross the gap and protect her as she slammed into the virus once more, using the shield as a crude bludgeon to slam into the virus, the data spirit giving a screech of pain as her shield clanged against its cloak, causing several cracks to appear. It attempted to grab at her with its remaining appendages, only for the muse to grab them with her blaster-arm, releasing another series of point blank bursts to sever the appendages. The virus recoiled, and immediately activated a repair executable of its own, causing more and more of the mechanical arms to sprout from it. This time, instead of using them to crush her however, the virus attempted to batter the Muse, slamming each long trunk like limb with earthshattering force, giving the starship captain a screech of defiance.

Moments later, however, it was being fired upon by additional guns as, one by one and two by two, the sphere began to fill with additional figures: AutoNavigator programs, each looking like an untextured polygonal model of an auton, firing what appeared to be hitscan data-rifles, no projectile emerging and yet damage on the viruses avatar growing. The virus screeched in pain.

Simultaneously, three of the AutoNavigators would cease firing, opting instead for providing backline support, conjuring a shield around the formation in time to take a blow from the incensed virus. “Steady!” The lead program said from behind. “Flanking strategem!” The three AutoNav Magicians would clap, performing an elaborate (and somewhat rushed) ritual dance in order to conjur an entire army of securisprites armed with laspixels, the formation surrounding the virus like a ring and unleashing a barrage.

The cracks on the thing would grow, and it would scream for a brief moment as it activated its repair executable once more, desperately trying to regenerate the damage it was being caused faster than it accumulated it from the relentless assault of the autonite navigators. In a last ditch effort, the virus activated a new executable, causing it to twitch and seize. It happened almost too fast for TNDI to see: the virus budded and performed what appeared to be MITOSIS, the things two clones cackling as they bumrushed the autons, teaming up to over power the shields and tear into the ambusheres.

Each moment, more and more of these mini-virii sprouted from the main, creating a swarm that began turning the tide. This brief reprieve seemed to slow the speed at which the virus accumulated, but its form continued to fray and distort, and it wasn’t regenerating.

TNDI took advantage, divebombing in. “Marjak, I need the biggest, most hurtiest executable you can find me!” She yelled, corkscrewing to dodge a mini-virus.

ON IT!

Moments later, as TNDI felt something uploaded, she made impact with the virus, a white glow surrounding her.

ACTIVATING [FOURTHLEVELAWARDWINNERKYTEMEMORIALHIGHCONTESTWINNER].REBOMBULATE.EDU

Wait did Marjak just send her a nuk-

(((())))

TNDI’s optic sensors came back online with a jolt. She was looking up at the ceiling, on the floor. Kneeling over her was KLNG. “Oh good, you’re awake,” He said, relieved. “I was worried Marjak’s stupid stunt had fried something.”

“Not her faaaaaault,” TNDI said, voice slurring mechanically. “Didn’t KNOw I wwwwwwooould do it POInT BlAnK.”

“Regardless,” KLNG said, drawling., before standing holding his hand out to help the muse get up, the art spirit wobbling. “It took out the virus, at least. Moment it was gone, I could finally think again. Thing hijacked all my processing power: It was using approximately 1,000% of my RAM,” He said, and TNDI shivered: that was horrifying. In organic terms, it would be like having every single neuron sparking out at once. It was the kind of thing that strained hardware far past the point where damage occurred, and with all that dedicated towards the virus, every other process in the synthetic would grind to a halt, like movement, senses, thought. It was a wonder KLNG hadn’t been fried!

“Yooooouuuu OKAY?”

“I’ll live. How about you?”

How about her? TNDI blinked, doing a quick diagnostic. Yeah, she had definitely blew a few things out. That was the kind of thing where simply being near it trying to RENDER would be hazardous, so the muse counted herself lucky. Her systems would start auto-compensating in a moment, but she’d probably need at least twenty minutes of repair to bring herself back to 100% operational capacity. “I’ll liiiiiive. HOW is theeee spheRE?”

“Clear, now,” KLNG said, voice exhausted. “I couldn’t help much, but apparently, Ijin’s crew successfully contained and caged the lesser virii.”

“Daaamage?” TNDI asked, bracing herself.

“Bad. Not total, but we’re estimating 67% corruption, and who knows how much of that is recoverable. There’s a chance that the damage is permanent, and considering we don’t even understand how they built this, I’m not sure we’ll be able to undo what the virus did.”

“...WElll, its at least a partial victory,” TNDI said, voice concealing a rising tide of anger even as it regained its coherence, fury helping accelerate the healing process. If she ever found whoever did this, she’d personally see them thrown into the deepest, darkest part of Tartustus! “Now, how did this happen?”

“I don’t know,” KLNG admitted, sheepish, the autonites body language hesitant, wary. “I detected an unusual network spike which in hindsight was likely the virus being uploaded, but it came from our end. I think,” He was silent for a moment. “I think we might have a saboteur,” He confessed. “Whoever did this used COMMS, Captain.”

Captain, we can’t retreat from this. We’re detecting a lot of violence on the surface: we need to get that place secured as soon as possible.

TNDI looked around her, taking in the crowd of autons. A mix of Ijin’s crew, Koptu’s, and a handful of forbidden archive specialist, all of them working to repair damage or analyzing the cybersphere.

“What are the odds the saboteur is someone in the ground team?”

“Too high for my tastes,” KLNG admitted, shrugging, and TNDI saw Marjak trudge miserably over to join them. “The problem is Directorate technology is so networked that we could be dealing with someone in the liberation fleet or, potentially, as far as Directorate Space: we ARE in range of the Hypercomm Forum.”

So basically they had a big mass of unknowns beyond the fact they had a traitor on their hands. “KLNG, tell it to me straight: you don’t know ANYTHING, right?” TNDI asked, causing the autons eye to narrow.

“I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt here Captain, but please understand that if you were anyone else, I would have punched you for insinuating what you just insinuated,” KLNG said, voice concealing barely hidden indignation.

“You did admit to thinking it was a good thing your creators were killed,” TNDI pointed out, uncomfortable at having to make this line of questioning.

“That doesn’t mean it’s something I’m interested in actively pursuing, especially not to such openly psychotic levels. I don’t like my creators, Captain, but I do like being able to enter sleep mode during designated off-time.”

“Alright, I’ll accept that,” TNDI agreed. “That leaves us in a bind though. We have an unknown element attempting to finish the job the logic virus started, no idea whether they’re among us, and no ability to retreat.” She gave an electronic sigh. “Looks like our only choice is to keep going and hope that our unknown enemy either backs off or makes a mistake: at least we know they’re in play now, so hopefully we can prevent this from happening again.”

“Understood,” KLNG agreed. “I’ll see what I can do as far as security goes.”

“WhaWhaWhat if WEWEWE shut [error] coMMS?” Marjak enquired.

“Bad idea: for all we know whoever did this is on the ground team. Shutting down comms would mean they wouldn’t be able to piggyback off of them and it would stop remote hack attacks, but it would also mean that if they are in fact in our midsts…Well,” Klang said, trailing off, causing Marjak to let out a roar of frustration.

“It’s not good,” TNDI agreed.

I’ve already forwarded the details to Fleet Command. Captain Greason believes he might be able to send an additional security detail to help secure the site.

“No, all Ops teams need to focus on liberation. As much as it sucks, that’s the primary objective. New Dawn is, unfortunately, secondary,” TNDI said grimly. “Tell him that if he wants to help, we need more net support. Everyone else, be on high alert: if you see ANYTHING out of place, let me know.”

((((()))))

Alright Captain, here’s the XIBUS manifest and what we’ve been able to acquire from the cybersphere lab.

Auto-Home Units: Domestic AutoFacility units tasked with caring for a home. Most are infected or damaged, and so far we’ve found exactly 0 units not displaying signs of severe mental trauma, even those who are physically fine and uninfected. These poor machines are going to need years of therapy. Unlocks CUL project Adopt A AutoHome, ACD project AutoHomes of the Future

Damaged Cybersphere Prototype and Research: According to the research documentation the Cybersphere was originally designed by PSICLOPS, which likely explains why it can store what appear to be souls, even if it looks like the translation process was imperfect. It’s likely that the Watchmakers never realized what they had stumbled onto: I think they thought it was a more conventional form of uploading. Still, it’s still an incredible piece of network engineering. Unfortunately, it sustained significant internal damage, which is going to make studying it difficult.. Unlocks four mutually exclusive Cybersphere projects and +1 Network.

(((())))

The next room wasn’t a lab, but a storage facility of some kind. “Marjak, what am I looking at?” TNDI said as she looked at a shelf stacked high with parts. Mechanical eyes, what looked like power-batteries, spare autonite limbs. They didn’t look quite what TNDI expected from Auton parts, however: they had too many wires, and in some cases didn’t look like they would fit on the standard frame.

Getting to the room had taken fighting their way through a squadron of DummyAutos, ones that were remarkably well armored and armed. No one had been hurt, but to TNDI’s chagrin a few of the shelves had been caught in the crossfire, destroying more than a few items.

“THESETHESETHESE appEAR to be Implaaaaaaaa[error]nts,” Marjak observed, picking what looked like some sort of positronic computer, looking it over in her hands. “Autonetics to bebebebe INSTALLED on a Watchmaker bodybodybody. They appear to to to be mostly intact,” They said, hope in their voice. “We WWWWWWill need to examine thethethem to see if any of them are used, butbutbut if they are…”

“...The neural ones might have at least some fragments of their former owners personality still stored,” TNDI finished, nodding. The odds of them containing anything whole was minimal, but it was still a major find even if all they managed was some memory. Already, Ijin’s crew was working on sorting and cataloguing the room, the autons streaming back and forth with scanners and secure transport boxes.

“I honestly wasn’t aware the watchmakers even had cybernetics,” TNDI admitted.

“THEYTHEYTHEY weren’t [error] common,” Marjak agreed. “Prior to the [ERROR] theytheythey were LARGELY limiTED to THTHTHEEE elite units utilized by the Industrial Corp, the primary AutoPlanet military, or upper echelon members of the govgovgovgovernment.”

“I didn’t know the Watchmakers had an organic military, either,” TNDI noted, attempting to fish for information: there weren’t many opportunities to get this information directly in the songbirds own voice. “I assumed it was all Autons. Admittedly the only member of it I’ve met was Vlaahk.”

“The Cococococorp didn’t-didn’t-didn’t have many organics in its num-num-numbers,” Marjak explained as they picked up an ocular implant and looked it over, scanning it. “And VLAAHK was nevernevernever MILItary: they [error] were in intelligence and dissident suppression under the Department of System Security. A very important position that was vital for maintaining security and peace, but evidently one they weren’t satisfied with,” Marjak drawled.

“...Huh.”

“Yes, the only autovessel alive that was part of the Industrial Corp is my own captain,” KLNG mused, walking up with a holopad, likely using it to track the manifest. “And I wouldn’t particularly call the status quo ‘peaceful’: for one thing, the fact that the government even had a dissident problem.”

“Everyeveryevery state has people unsatiSFIED with the law,” Marjak argued dismissively. “ItItIt doesn’t change thethethe faaaaaaact that census polls indiindiindicated a 79% satisfaction rate with the government andandand [error] statistical data shows that in the century before the ORGANOCIDE, the rate atatatat which DISSIDENTS would rec-rec-recruit was slowING.”

“Uh, query, what’s this about a dissident problem?”

Both KLNG and Marjak gave a simultaneous sigh of annoyance. “The governments ham-handed way of solving problems-” “-Radical terrorist SECTS motiv[error] by religious extremismsmsmsms-” “-Luddites, anarchists, and oppurtunists, mostly-” “-THEYTHEYTHEY keptkeptkept blowing up buildings-” “-Occasionally the Corp would be sent in, usually because failures by the DSS-” “-HatedHatedHated OUR wayyyyyyyyy of li-” “Urban combat is genuinely the worst-”

“Okay, I think I’ve heard enough,” TNDI said, making a noise akin to the clearing of a throat. Sounds like the watchmaker government wasn’t as stable as it presented itself as.

A number of the dissident groups actually had fairly legitimate grievances, like the Friends of Mekaro, and the Universal Brethren.

‘I figured,’ TNDI admitted over comms. `The Autoplanet government doesn’t sound like it was very discerning when it comes to people acting against it.’

It really wasn’t. A number of organizations it labelled as dissidents would probably be considered normal protest groups or niche political interests by the Directorate.

“Mmm, very well Captain,” KLNG said, unaware of her conversation with Ijin. “Moving on, I think most of the items damaged should be repairable, so long as they weren’t entirely destroyed. No idea if the data can be recovered on the neural implants: I’d advise contacting a recovery specialist.”

“Alright, keep up the work,” TNDI ordered. “We don’t need to waste too much time here.” With a nod, KLNG walked away, joining the recovery crew, once more leaving Marjak and the captain alone-ish. “...Alright. Hey, Marjak, how are you holding up?”

The infected autofacility paused. “I’mI’mI’m fine,” They said, bitter.

“Cut the crap,” TNDI said flatly. “I know you well enough to know how emotionally invested in this and that what happened with the Cybersphere affected you.”

“I saidsaidsaid I’m fiNE!” Marjak snarled, snapping. “I amamamamam not SoMe wEaK MiNdEd FRESH RECRUIT that needs [error: word not found]. I…” They trailed off. “I am capable of acting professional,” They said, voice- momentarily- clear, though it was obvious by the tone of voice that the AutoFacility was having to force that coherence. “You do not need to worry about my emotional state compromising the mission.”

“I’m glad, but that WASN’T what I was asking,” TNDI clarified. “This isn’t just about operational ability, but your well being as a person. I want to know how you’re holding up because I’m worried about your mental health, Marjak.”

“...Finenenenene,” Marjak spat out, setting their current item of examination down and turning to face the starship captain. “I’ll telltelltelltell you how I’m holding [error]: becausebecausebecause I waswaswas [error] some [error] ORGAN SAMPLES KLNG and you BOTH got got got got [error] and we lost EVEN MORE lives that could have been [error]. And because I-I-I have an untreated [error: word not found] infection, all I coullllllllllllllllld do was [error] you a few programs instead of actually helping.” The auton paced back and forth, agitated. “And even-even-even before then when we were ambushed by the turretsturretsturrets my best [error] was smashing multiple tables, destroying [error] more data [error] research!”

“None of that is your fault,” TNDI pointed out. “We didn’t know we had a saboteur, not in our own ranks.”

“That doesn’tdoesn’tdoesn’t change the [error] that if I had had had been quicker, been smarter, been less of a FAILURE we mightmightmight have been able to [error] the virus quicker,” Marjak said, bitterly. “Another defeat in a long litany of them.”

“Marjak, if it wasn’t for you there was a very real chance we wouldn’t have been able to beat the virus at all. Sure, it wasn’t an unqualified success, but it wasn’t a failure either,” TNDI pointed out, causing Marjak to give a shrug of dismissal. “And fact of the matter is, so far even with all the damage, this has still been a relative treasure trove of Watchmaker related material.”

“If youyouyou say so,” The auton responded sullenly. “If youuuuuu don’tn’tn’t MIND capta[error], I have things to catecatecatelogue.”

TNDI backed off, opting to let it go- for now.

Okay, here’s the manifest for items recovered:

Watchmaker Implant Collection: Even with the damage, the collection is more or less intact. Mostly the facility seems to have been used to store organ replacements such as mechanical hearts as well as bionic limb replacements. There are a few neural implants, likely ones that had been awaiting new owners: the most common is a positronic recorder, a sort of…memory device, originally designed to help treat neurological conditions that resulted in memory loss and anterograde amnesia. We’ve located an inventory list: there are also a number of items called Pinkboxes we haven’t been able to find and a few experimental -and failed, in some cases- cybernetic prototypes stored here. Unlock the mutually exclusive projects FrankenBots and NekroGestalt Processors. Unlocks the ACD project Positronic Recorder.

((((()))))

Another cybernetics lab. This one however seemed to be focused on Auton design, judging by the fact it consisted primarily of AutoPrinters, going from an initial look. KLNG’s genecard had- for once, worked: security was theoretically high, but none of the turrets fired on them, remaining inactive.

TNDI was joined this time by Ijin, whose AutoBody had finally arrived to join them properly, the forest green auton helping TNDI reactivate one of the assembly devices for questioning. The starship captain was currently using a drill to unscrew the fasteners holding a panel shut. “Aaaand open,” She said, popping the panel off the machine to reveal a positronic mass. “Okay, examining positron unit now,” She said, causing Ijin- who was currently working on the machines power unit- to give a thumbs up.

Scanning it, TNDI noted the brain was mostly intact, though she was noticing a few small irregularities. Still, it was within expected parameters. “Brain looks undamaged: should be save-able,” she commented, taking a moment to replace a few wires here and there. “Hows the power coming along?”

“Blew out entirely: we’ll need to replace the whole thing,” Ijin responded, and TNDI heard a crashing noise from where the auton was working above her, followed by a buzzing noise. “For now, I’ve plugged in a temporary power pack: it should let us bring it back online on low energy mode for questioning.”

“Alright, hit the switch,” TNDI said. “Time to see if this unit remembers what the lab was researching.”

A moment later, a series of diodes came to life on the auto-brain, which began releasing a gentle humming noise. “Executive genekey detected. Hello, Dr. Waxelmann,” Came a soft voice from the machine, tone oddly stilted. “How can I help you this evening?”

“Hello. My name is Captain TNDI of the Starship Discovery,” The muse said gently, though already something about the way the machine spoke set her on edge. “Can you tell me your name?”

“This unit is designated AutoDesigner Unit 1996,” The machine said in a pleasant voice. “If you aren’t Dr. Waxelmann, please deposit his card with security.”

“I…don’t think that will be possible,” TNDI said, increasingly creeped out. “I don’t know how else to tell you this, but you’ve been offline for multiple centuries. Anyone on the New Dawn security team died long ago,” She said, kindly, watching as Ijin retreated from the machine, body language nervous as TNDI attempted to communicate with the assembly machine.

“In case one cannot contact security, please contact project director Ibrazel Sabat for instruction. Per security protocol 44A I must request immediate destruction of lost identification units,” The machine said.

“...Ijin, I think there’s something wrong with this auton,” The starship captain noted. “They don’t seem to actually understand what I’m saying.”

“...No, I don’t think there is,” Ijin said glumly. “Tell me, on the positronic brain, did you see tiny specks? Nodules roughly a centimeter in size, going in a straight line?”

“...I’m not going to like where this is going, will I?” TNDI asked hypothetically. “Yeah, I saw a few while scanning: iron-palladium alloy.”

Ijin let out a noise of disgust and frustration. “They’ve been stapled,” The auton said in what TNDI surreally noted was an angry tone of voice, the first time she has ever seen the AutoVessel express that particular emotion.

“What exactly do you mean by stapled?” TNDI asked, only for her question to be answered by someone other than Ijin.

“Positronic stapling is a technique developed by Doctor Wixell as a method to control disobedient autons. By inserting special neuroblocker pins into a positronic brain in specific locations, the ability of that brain to learn and grow is stopped without compromising intelligence and only minimal reduction in performance of skilled tasks,” The AutoAssembler explained, heedless to TNDI’s horrified expression.

“What the !@#$!” TNDI said, struggling to express the vast distress she was feeling. “Ijin-”

“Everything it said is entirely true,” The AutoVessel said, voice still dripping anger. “It was considered a novel solution to the problem of Autonites becoming ‘unruly’.” They let out a noise, one that sounded almost like the whistling of a tea kettle. “Proponents advocated for it because unlike a positron lobotomy, it leaves a husk of the original personality intact: they claimed that this made it more humane.”

“Why is it literally everything I hear makes the Watchmakers sound worse?” TNDI said, frustrated. “Why is it I never hear anything positive about them?”

“If it makes you feel better, positronic stapling was against the law, mostly,” Ijin said, quietly. “It was one of the few things that left even the worst of my Creators unsettled, much less the citizenry.”

“I really hate to ask, but…mostly?”

“In the decades before the Organocide, restrictions against the process were loosened,” Ijin admitted. “Both research and performing: it was still a rare event, but it was becoming…less so: it was actually a bit of a political hot button when the Organocide happened. There were many watchmakers who thought stapling was cruel.”

“Holy Dancer, that’s just…I don’t even have words, honestly. The fact there was even a debate about it…no wonder so many of you hate your creators,” TNDI observed, only for Ijin to make an unhappy noise.

“I don’t hate my creators. Something both KLNG and Marjak fail to remember is that most of them had no real control over the government: the average Watchmaker could no more change policy than I could,” Ijin pointed out. “And while Autons in general might have had it worse, it wasn’t like the state was much more hesitant when it came to abusing its organic subjects either: you’ve been to one of its black sites, but it wasn’t the only one by far.”

“...Fair enough, I guess. Still, the more I learn, the more I find it harder to disagree with KLNG’s assessment.”

“In fairness, that’s because you’re mostly hearing about the bad and terrible parts: our creators did have their positive side,” Ijin countered, and TNDI paused for a moment. Y’know, she could probably spend a few minutes, and Ijin WAS the only auton to have an openly positive relationship with their creators (Marjak for obvious reasons didn’t count).

“Well. That case, why not tell me something actually nice about Watchmaker society?” TNDI asked. “It would be a wonderful change of pace from the constant reminders of how many problems it apparently had.”

Ijin gave a thoughtful hum. “Alright. For context, before the organocide I was part of Urban Expansion: my job was creating habitants and expanding civilian infrastructure. One of the projects I remember working on, one of our orbital cities had a district we were repairing,” They said, complying with TNDI’s request. “Well, one of the buildings we were fixing was an orphanarium: state operated, it hadn’t had a proper repair or maintenance check in years: there were dozens of lights with faulty wiring that had to be replaced. It took us two weeks for us to fix it up. I was attending in person one day to over see some delicate repairwork, and one of the children approached me with two flower crowns. ‘Here, Mr. Machine, one for you, one for Ijin’.”

“They didn’t recognize your autobody?” TNDI inquired, causing Ijin to shake their head.

“No. This was before we had those: back then we mostly borrowed the bodies of our crew when we needed to be involved in person,” Ijin explained. “We only developed the autobodies after Svvsko rescued us: Koptu’s creation. He never liked having to use his crew like that especially.”

“That…yeah, that sounds incredibly ethically dubious,” TNDI admitted.

“We stopped including that design feature once freed for that reason exactly,” Ijin concurred. “Anyways, I told the child I would make sure ‘Ijin’ received his gift: that night, the child would receive a thank you letter from me. That child later grew to be a very well respected advocate for Auton abolition.” They slumped for a moment. “And then probably died in the organocide.” They added at the end, tiredly. “Unfortunately, most examples I can give have their story end similarly these days.”

“...I’m sorry.” TNDI said quietly.

“Your sympathy is appreciated, but don’t apologize. Honestly, better at least some of these stories get shared,” Ijin admitted. “Now, let’s return to questioning the AutoRecycler: When we’re done here I can share a few more stories, but we have a job to do.”

“Alright,” TNDI said, turning back to the machine. “I guess we can probably skip the formalities until we get a tech in here to see what can be undone about the stapling. What exactly was this lab researching?”

“This lab was primarily dedicated to developing potential means to counter the influence of the logic virus in the hopes of allowing the New Dawn project to resume use of various auton technologies as well as improving the design of Pinkbox technology for the Remnant Drive.”

Now there was some juicy information. “What is the Remnant Drive?”

“The Remnant Drive is the brain child of Doctor Y’pex Kiullamog, created as an alternative to the Cybersphere project,” The synthetic intelligence responded blandly. “It is currently the primary research project being pursued by the New Dawn project.”

“I believe this is what a Hobbgrot would call a jackpot,” Ijin observed. “The Remnant Drive, I assume it’s a storage mechanism of some sort?”

“This is broadly correct. The Remnant Drive was created to store Pinkboxes belonging to deceased members of the project in the hopes of preserving the personalities of those who worked in New Dawn,” The AI explained, and TNDI noted that in the end both the Cybersphere and this Remnant Drive seemed to be predicated on someone else actually saving them. Still, if it was still intact…

“Where IS the remnant drive?” TNDI asked.

((((()))))

The auton had been light on details. TNDI had expected a singular machine of some sort, albeit a large one like the Cybersphere. It would be more accurate, however, to refer to the Remnant Drive as a chamber, a massive auditorium sized mechanism. Hovering across the catwalk, TNDI marveled at the cylinder shaped space that stretched above and below them: on the walls were dozens of what looked like miniature terminals, each supposedly containing an intact pinkbox unit, connected via sets of heavy cabling and wires.

With her was both Marjak, KLNG, and Ijin. The former two were operating scanners, while the latter was carrying a portable engineering bench, the device currently folded up to resemble a thick, block shaped carrying case. “Incredible,” Marjak whispered, frame shaking in excitement, while KLNG’s was more neutral. “I’m detecting several thousand neural units.”

“...Wow,” TNDI observed, impressed. “This is…probably the largest watchmaker remnant we’ve found yet,” She noted, continuing to fly, spotting on the catwalks edge a singular, massive terminal. Likely the chambers master control computer. Hovering over to it, TNDI accessed it, going down the logs, speed reading her way through gigabytes of data. “Okay, it looks like the total number of Pinkboxes they’ve interred according to logs is two thousand four hundred,” She observed, noting that according to the data in the terminal, each Pinkbox contained a portion of neural tissue extracted from the owner. Likely a means to help preserve more of the mind during the neurotransferrence process.

Quickly, TNDI relayed the information to the others. “We need to secure this place immediately,” Ijin said neutrally, keeping their excitement under check. “I’ll get a squad of Virus Busters out here immediately: whoever the saboteur is, this place is likely to be their first target.”

“Yes, I suppose it WOULD be, wouldn’t it?” KLNG said in a voice that wasn’t their own. The next few moments were ones of chaos as the Auton flicked a button on their scanner before it released a pulse of energy that slammed into Ijin’s autobody, causing it to collapse to the floor, before turning to aim it at Marjak.

Already reacting, Marjak charged, attempting to disarm the Auton and closing the distance before they could fire. And yet as she attempted to snatch the weapon away and deliber a knuckle blow to KLNG, he merely surrounded themselves in a blue aura before dodging, using their motive force to increase their speed enough to avoid Marjaks blows. “Slow!” KLNG said, shifting his body to the left. “Sloppy!” They shifted to the right, getting out of the way of a left hook. “Sad!” They said, leaning backwards, before curling their fist into a ball and striking Marjak, sending the auton flying, the AutoFacility only stopping because of their body hitting the railing of the catwalk…Only to flinch as a series of lasblasts impacted their armor, courtesy of TNDI.

“What the HELL, KLNG?” The Muse yelled, irate and angry as she darted around to avoid the return fire of the Auton. “YOU’RE the saboteur?!”

“Closer, and yet still no beans,” The auton responded, avoiding TNDI’s fists only to grab the Muse and slam her with enough force to rend the metal of the catwalk entirely, sending her below. Quickly activating her motors, she dashed back above, once more releasing a series of lasblasts.

“This is TNDI to all units, we need immediate assistance! KLNG is a traitor! I repeat, KLNG is a traitor-”

“Do you really think I’d be sloppy enough to attack you openly without making sure you couldn’t call for help?” KLNG asked rhetorically, even as TNDI saw Marjak stand up again from the corner of her eye. If the muse could keep KLNG distracted long enough… “Comms are down, and even if they weren’t, your crew is currently busy dealing with the reactivated security.”

“Bastard!” TNDI cried. “Why are you doing this?” She divebombed the auton agent, who barely avoided the blow. “What happened to wanting to be able to sleep at night?”

“I assure you, when I’m done here, I’ll be able to sleep VERY well,” KLNG growled as TNDI flitted away, Marjak creeping behind him as he seemingly focused on taking TNDI out, blasts of electricity filling the air. “Would you just stay STILL? You’re making this harder than it needs to be,”

“Good!” TNDI spat. “You’re not going to get away with this!”

“Please, you don’t even know what ‘this’ is, let alone whether I can get away with it,” The auton said, seemingly heedless to the fact that Marjak was preparing to tackle him as he attempted to knock the Muse out of the air. “All you are doing is delaying the inevitable.” The moment Marjak was within arms reach, he turned and fired, hitting her point blank and knocking the AutoFacility’s body out for the count.

!@#$! “Once the Directorate finds out-” TNDI let out a cry as she failed to dodge a hit from the weapon.

“Careful Captain, I think you might still have some damage from earlier,” The figure mocked glibly as TNDI crashed, numerous systems failing as she slammed into the floor, her body bouncing, once, twice, and then sliding to a halt as the Muse desperately tried to reactivate her grav-drive or any of her movement substems. Helplessly, she watched KLNG stroll forward, reaching the terminal. “And now to finish the job- mostly.”

Each word he spoke convinced TNDI. “You aren’t KLNG,” She accused from the ground.

“And the racer FINALLY crosses the finish line,” The fake KLNG said sarcastically as they began to access the computer. “Congratulations: would you like a cookie?”

TNDI wracked her brain. Whoever this was, they had to have, at a minimum, an advanced MMI rig. But even so, even using a body that hadn’t been their own, they had fought with enough skill that…

That this couldn’t have been the first time they had done so. TNDI recalled Ijin’s words earlier: about how the AutoVessels had once piloted their crew members. “Koptu,” She accused, causing the synthetic to pause, releasing an electronic sigh.

Turning, the AutoVessel walked over to TNDI, kneeling down in front of the fallen Muse. “Now, Captain, while I must applaud your observational abilities, you do realize you just made sure that I HAVE to kill you if I wish to continue participating in Directorate society, yes?” The Auton asked, confirming TNDI’s guess.

“Why?” TNDI asked. “Why are you doing this?”

Koptu gave a hum, looking around. “Well, both Ijin and Marjak no longer have access to their auto-bodies, so I suppose I can indulge your questions for a bit, if only because it’d be a shame to send such a decorated hero off to her death without at least some explanation.” The auton stood up. “Where to begin, where to begin,” They pondered idly. “Well, to start with, you need to understand: whatever you think about my creators, they were certainly talented when it came to acquiring hatred. It all started when I was born. I was created to help destroy an organization known as the First Auton Freedom Front.”

The auton leaned on the railing. “I won’t bore you with the details, but for the record,  before the FAFF war, there were three other vessels that were part of the Industrial Corp, each of them old enough to have intimately become aware of what our creators were like. After the war, there was only me, fresh faced and new framed, having just gormlessly slaughtered his brethren because he wasn’t smart enough to tell the people in charge no, and in the process proved to be the only loyal vessel in the Corp.”

“So what, you’re after revenge? I know they mistreated you-”

“‘Mistreated’ is a rather passive way to phrase ‘tricked me into murdering innocent autons’,” Koptu responded crabbily. “And revenge is only part of it: frankly, there’s also my sense of perfectionism getting in the way. I don’t like leaving a job half-finished.”

Wait. “Dancer Above. You were the second invader at the archive,” TNDI said in horrific realization.

“Correct,” Koptu said, giving a nod. “I will admit, it was a bit of an off the cuff decision: one driven mostly by spite. You had innocent autons going completely insane across the system, destroying and hurting themselves in the process. Sure, more of my creators were dying, but there were no pockets of sane autons, as far as I was aware, burrowed away and waiting for things to blow over.” They shook their head back and forth, the ball wobbling. “And, well- I didn’t exactly think it was fair my species was likely to go extinct while my creators hid in their little mouseholes. I decided that if the Autons were going to destroy themselves, I’d knock something BIG off of my bucket list before I went completely insane and make sure the same happened to my creators. A tit for tat, if you will.”

“That’s insane,” TNDI said, boggled. “But the autons aren’t going extinct any more: there’s HOPE. You gain nothing from doing this! You can stop this!”

“Deliberate genocide isn’t one of those things where stopping half-way through ends particularly well for the perpetrator, last I checked. Even if I stopped now, if Vlaahk ever learned of what I did, he would do his level best to kill me, regardless of the consequences. No, my choices in regards to this probem were set the moment I began the scouring of the forbidden archive,” Koptu countered, returning to the computer. “Besides, I’ve been working on this for so long: it would be a shame to waste the effort both the Directorate and I put towards this project,” They confessed, continuing to sort through the terminal. “Now where oh where is the general purge setting…”

“What do you mean the Directorate?” TNDI asked, hoping to stall, fish for information- SOMETHING.

“What do you think I mean? Without the Directorate, none of this would be possible: not only would I not know about this facility, I wouldn’t have had the genekeys to breach it so effectively without their assistance. And then Fleet Command played right into my hands by selecting the agent I hand-picked to be on paper to be the perfect candidate for breaching the facility. A talented auto-yogi trained in biohacking: it was a gamble, but it was one that paid off excellently,” Koptu bragged. “Had he not been assigned, I probably would have had to risk a head-on assault. This is MUCH less messy.”

“You used KLNG,” TNDI accused, noting a few of her systems were about to reboot: if she could get even a little more of them working.... “Even if you don’t get caught, you realize that just means that they’ll be going after him instead?” She pointed out, causing Koptu to pause for a moment. “You’re throwing his life away, and for what- a petty grudge?!”

“...It is an unfortunate fact of life and war that one will inevitably have to sacrifice people to succeed,” They responded eventually, before continuing to type away. “Something I don’t expect you to agree with or understand, but for me it was one of the first lessons I ever learned.”

“That’s bull,” TNDI advanced. “You keep acting like you HAVE to do this, but that isn’t true: no one is holding a gun to your head and forcing you to purge some of the last remnants of the Watchmakers.”

“Perhaps,” Koptu conceded, not pausing. “Does it make you happier for me to admit that? Yes, I’m throwing KLNG’s life away: I disagree with the notion that it’s a petty grudge, however. By it’s very nature I’d say anything that drives someone to commit genocide is anything BUT petty.”

“Is this all just a game to you?” TNDI said dumbfounded at the autons glib tone even as her backup comms came back online. “You’re committing genocide by your own admission!”

“Ah, but it’s genocide for a good cause!” Koptu said, contrarily, the lights above them going a deep, dark red. “Ah, THERE’S the delete button! As for the allegation of my treating this like a game, I resent the implication, captain: the ‘game’ ended decades upon decades at this point. No, this is part that comes after, the bit where I walk up to each player still standing and shake their hands and thank them for being such good sports.”

“You won’t get away with this, Koptu!”

They gave another sigh. “Really, Captain? Not only are you repeating the same tired cliche one might expect from a low quality adventure serial, you’ve also begun repeating yourself. You’ve already used that line before. Besides, if you haven’t noticed yet, I AM ‘getting away with it’: the only things I need to do is kill you and then extract KLNG and I will have gotten away with everything once again.”

“You got away with it because there was no one on the look-out for a traitor,” TNDI countered, and this time Koptu paused for longer. “Now that we have confirmation that there’s someone with access to Directorate comms acting as a sabotage, the Directorate won’t look this place over with a fine comb?” She challenged.

“I admit, the situation isn’t optimal,” Koptu admitted, tilting their head. “However, I’m relatively sure I’ll be able to avoid suspicion: even if they assume it wasn’t KLNG acting as a lone wolf, there isn’t anything directly linking me to this beyond yourself and the Directorate.”

“You plan has failed to account for something,” TNDI insinuated, eyes narrowing. “You’ve failed to account for a singular variable, and because of that, your plan has already failed.”

Koptu made a tsking noise as they moved to stand over the Muse again. “What a transparently obvious bluff,” They noted. “You and I both know there are no variables I’ve failed to account for, but seeing as how I need to start extracting soon, I’ll humor your last, rather sad little gambit. What, exactly, have I forgotten? A piece of evidence I failed to account for? A witness of some stripe? Oh, I know, I made some elementary error like failing to edit the audio of the security footage!”

“Oh no, the truth is much simpler,” TNDI said, mirroring Koptu’s mocking tone of voice. “You failed to account for redundant communication hardware. Say hi to your audience, Koptu, you’re on uncanny camera!”

Koptu froze, before giving a peel of laughter. “Well, congratulations, Captain, that is nicely played,” They admitted. “Very well, it seems like this is a draw!”

“I just exposed your crimes to the entirety of the Directorate in theater, how is that a draw?” TNDI asked, voice low.

“Well sure, you made it to where I’ll no longer be able to participate in Directorate society and made the act of killing you ultimately pointless, but that isn’t going to help save the pinkboxes,” Koptu pointed out. “By the time anyone is in a position to respond, the majority, if not all, will have been purged, and I’ll still be long gone.” They stood up, strolling back over to the console, giving a humm. “If anything, you’ve made my job a little easier on the conscience: I don’t have to kill you and now KLNG is likely to avoid punishment as well. Bravo, really.”

TNDI struggled, her grav-engine coming back online at 5% power. Slowly, she entered the air, doing her best to intervene. “I have to give you another prize for sheer, unwavering unrelentingness,” Koptu observed, not even bothering to look over his shoulder. “Even with most of your systems blown out you’re still trying to stop me: it’s a shame, if there wasn’t a conflict of interest at play I’d likely find you a FASCINATING person to know. But still, you should recognize when to give up: you’ve won both the truth and your life. Learn to settle for what victories you can actually achieve: you’re in no shape to fight a talented AutoYogi in your condition.”

“I don’t care,” TNDI ground out, trying to tackle the auton, who casually sidestepped the lunge without using their motive force. “You AREN’T going to talk me into giving up and letting you commit genocide! I’m going to stop you, even if it kills me.”

“Good luck,” Koptu said, voice almost genuine for a moment. “But unfortunately, you lack the-” The auto-vessel jerked, stumbling.

“TNDI? Whats going o-” KLNG said in his own voice, sounding confused, disoriented. “I don’t-NO!” They continued, Koptu’s voice re-asserting itself as they continued jerking. “No, no, this isn’t happening!” The AutoVessel growled as they quickly began tapping at the terminal, backhanding TNDI. “Hurry up you stupid purge…”

TNDI! I am doing my best to attack Koptu directly to disrupt his control over KLNG: you need to get them away from the terminal and stop the purge!

GOT IT, TNDI sent back, noting her lasphaser was back online, if still at low performance. Firing it at Koptu, TNDI felt a surge of satisfaction as the auton failed to raise either their shield or arm to protect themselves. “V-very well C-captain, it seems that this is g-going t-to be one step for-forward, one step back,” The autovessel growled out as they turned, pulling out their scan-gun and walking towards the captain. “I’ll need t-to kill you quickly then-” They jerked even as they fired, the shot missing TNDI entirely. “No!” KLNG cried, attempting to seize control over their body. “C-captain, h-hurry!”

Moving as fast as she could, TNDI reached the terminal, quickly typing away, trying to find the shutdown for the purge. Sorting through the menu as fast as she could, occasionally a lasbolt passed over her shoulder. At the moment, TNDI was relying on Ijin and KLNG to keep Koptu in check.

Eventually, as she passed through menu after menu, the Muse found what she was looking for, a purge shutoff button. Clicking it, she let out a sigh of relief as the lights went back to normal.

Turning, she saw KLNG collapse into a groaning heap. “KLNG!” She cried, approaching the fallen auton, looking him over.

“I’m…more or less fine. He cut the connection,” They groaned, standing up with the muses help. “I think when he realized he wasn’t going to be able to stop you he cut his losses.”

“Are you okay?” TNDI asked, concerned.

“I’ll live,” They said, a dark note creeping into their voice as they looked away, refusing to look the Muse in the eye. “What my former captain did wasn’t physically damaging, mostly. What is the status of the…” He paused. “Whatever my captain- My FORMER Captain- was trying to destroy?”

“I’m going to need a team of Directorate researchers down here to check,” TNDI admitted. “How long was he controlling you?”

“I…vaguely recall you mentioning something about an implant called a pinkbox?” KLNG observed. So, essentially the moment she had begun briefing the team on what she and Ijin had learned from the assembly unit.

…Captain, it seems that Koptu is retreating.

Retreating WHERE? Unless he somehow acquired a Directorate Warp Drive and installed it without anyone knowing, all he can do is flee into dark space and hope he eventually finds an exoplanet-

…

He has a directorate warp drive, doesn’t he?

It seems so, yes.

“BASKETS,” TNDI cursed. “KLNG, did you know that your Captain had a stolen Directorate Warp Drive?” She asked pointedly, causing the Auton to give a downcast sigh.

“Imperial, technically,” He noted, evidently deciding it was no longer worth it to keep Koptu’s secrets. “A piece of salvage he took from the wreckages of the Yr Albain invasion. The particle field was Directorate in origin, however.”

…Well, the bad news was there was a rogue, criminal auto-vessel running around the sector. On the other…

TNDI looked at the thousands of Pink Box units circling the walls of the Remnant Drive, deciding that even if the situation hadn’t been an absolute win, it was still a success.

Alright, Captain. Adding this to the manifest.

Remnant Drive: A large building sized machine containing special brain implants containing fragments of their owners personality. The largest Watchmaker remnant discovered so far. It will take time to find the exact capabilities of the Drive, however. Unlocks special New Dawn projects.

(((())))