How had it come to this? The Deconstructionist Movement thought the last threat to humans remaining at their apex had died with the Stagnants a decade ago. Sure, there'd been obstacles to overcome as humanity recovered from the turmoil and returned to the peak it had been at, but those were to be expected.
A few pirates, some minor rebellions, nothing to worry about.
But this, this filled Granoss with genuine dread. Even if this was the only ship of its type, the colossal refinery and shipyard behind it as well, it was too much. A threat big enough to make the Movement drop every other consideration to rush here and blow these abominations to subatomic particles.
And what if it wasn't? What if, across the vastness of space with countless billions of stars, there were more of these things crawling from system to system? Chewing up planets and leaving asteroid belts of unneeded materials in their wake, spitting out warships and killer robots and void knew what else. What if the DMF was already outnumbered by orders of magnitude more enemies that were faster, stronger, and more skilled than they could ever be?
What had the fools at HumanAssist Enterprises done? Why had they thought unleashing this plague upon the universe was the answer?
Granoss finally turned to his communications officer, but the lost Vindicator was the last thing on his mind. “I'm relaying a data packet to you. Send this on to Fleet Command, top priority. Attach my personal authentications to it.”
“Sir?” the young woman said, face pale; she had no inkling of how doomed they were, but she'd read enough in his tone to be worried.
Maybe he should show this to his command crew and the task force's senior officers. Let them know they had bigger things to worry about than the Last Stand. But then again, maybe not.
What would it do for morale, already low enough after this fruitless hunt for their frustratingly elusive quarry? Quarry that had already destroyed the Vindicator, and judging by the fact that they'd survived the encounter had likely uncovered the Dormant and neutralized her as well.
Did he want to pile panic about their HAE enemies, so seemingly weak, creating an army of self-replicating AIs on top of that?
No, not just yet. They'd have an opportunity to worry about it once Command sent back orders for the task force to go wipe out this secret HAE shipyard. And in the face of that, his people's low spirits about failing to catch a lowly pirate ship would disappear into their focus on something greater.
Although he honestly feared his task force might not be enough. To destroy this one shipyard they've found, maybe, but not enough to scour the universe for more signs of HAE presence and hunt them down.
Granoss very much feared the Movement would need to turn to the Ishivi. Those little purebred sewage clogs already had far too much power and influence for his liking, and gained more by the day, but what choice did humanity have?
Against an enemy that could mass produce copies of the perfect crew and the most advanced ships, all without error or any sort of inefficiency, their only hope of coming anywhere close to equaling that overwhelming numerical advantage was the Ishivi method of creating Constructs.
A genius idea, really. Artificially bred en masse with DNA-encoded memories and other genetic modifications, speed grown in nutrient vats, and spat out fully conditioned and ready to die for humanity. They'd have all the skills and abilities these HAE AIs had, but without the one major deficiency; artificial intelligence was notoriously lacking in creativity and innovation, while Constructs would have no such limitations.
That was how humanity would win, if they had any hope at all.
“Information packet sent, sir,” the comms officer said.
Granoss nodded distractedly. “Inform me the moment we get a reply.” He turned to the captain of the Justiciar, his flagship for the last two years, and spoke as he sent him the drone's data packet along with a set of coordinates for a location near the hidden HAE base. “Send out an order to gather the fleet at these coordinates.”
The man blinked, eyes on his display and the information he'd just received. “This is well back along the path the Last Stand has taken. Is our quarry doubling back?”
“To the void with our quarry!” Granoss snapped, ignoring the way everyone on the bridge stiffened in surprise, although few dared to turn and look at him. He continued grimly. “We're abandoning the search in the face of a more pressing issue.”
“Before receiving authorization from Command?” his captain asked, eyebrow raised.
He glowered at the man; challenging a superior was a good way to nuke your career. Then again, it could also be a good way to advance it. So he turned the glower to a sneer, motioning to the information on the man's display. “Believe me, it will be coming. Perhaps you should hurry up and look at what I just sent you.” He hardened his tone. “In private.”
The ship's captain nodded stiffly and withdrew to his ready room.
Granoss left the bridge as well, making for the Justiciar's officer lounge. Considering the stress he was under, and how much harder his job was about to get, not to mention the impending doom of humanity, a recreational dive should be just the thing. Especially since his ship had the newest sensory deprivation vats to go along with the full immersion hookups, which were really quite relaxing.
There were various erotic dives he'd been wanting to try out. Almost as good as reality, although there was inarguably something more satisfying about the real thing; a pity Command kept refusing his suggestion of bringing Blank Slates, or even slaves, aboard his capitol ships to serve as “morale officers”. As numerous militaries in the past had done.
Unnecessary and inefficient expenditure of resources, the desk jockeys called it. After all, full immersion was readily available and offered an infinitely more varied
