A/N: Hey, I'm not dead. Here's a chapter for you.
The two guards glanced at one another curiously, then turned to the large bulkhead door which was emitting a quiet, suspicious hissing noise. They levelled their rifles and approached, ready to take up defensive positions. Before they had the chance, however, the immense sheet of metal buckled inwards and flew off its hinges with a tremendous explosion, crushing both of them beneath.
Through the thick smoke and lingering flames, Jake swooped into the room, his visor a slit of blue amongst the haze and his Pulse Rifle a blaze of glory as he gunned his way inside the building, taking out two more guards who had been rushing over from nearby. A fifth guard ducked behind cover, pulling the pin on their grenade and preparing to toss it, but was stopped by a large, black hand grasping his wrist and snapping it, forcing the guard to drop their grenade to the floor. Advena rolled away from them, coming up at Jake's side while the grenade exploded at the guard's feet.
The two lovers nodded to one another and continued deeper inside.
"Man I love that whole 'action hero' pose you do," Advena commented.
"That's just a standard room-sweeping position!" Jake hissed back. "Also, what did we say about flirting on the job?"
"If guns are in our hands our dicks are in our pants," Advena recited grouchily. She would have rolled her boyfriend's eyes if she was just a tad less mature, but refrained from doing so due to the danger it posed.
"Heads up; footsteps." Jake quickly ducked behind one of the ballistic covers which had been set up to defend against them while Advena hopped up onto the roof, pressing herself into the pipes and grating.
Two small handheld ballistic shields peeked out from around the corner farther down the corridor, the tinted bulletproof glass embedded into its front offering no clues as to how many enemies were crouched behind it. Given some help, Advena could resolve that. Jake propped his rifle up over the lip of his cover, exposing as little of his body as possible and blind-firing at the enemy shields. Now that they were distracted, Advena was clear to slowly crawl her way along the ceiling until she was dangling above them. Four of them; two holding the shields, two leaning over their shoulders with Pulse Rifles at the ready.
"Go," Advena commanded and, without hesitation, Jake vaulted over his cover, rifle stock tucked into his armpit as he ran, firing off bursts of pot-shots. Simultaneously, Advena dropped down upon the four vulnerable figures, wrapping her tail around one rifleman's neck while she bashed the second one's head into the corridor wall. The two shield bearers panicked and turned, firing their sidearms wildly in a last-ditch attempt to fend the alien off – an action which proved to be useless as they were hammered from behind by Jake's Pulse Rifle, their bodies and, ironically enough, their ballistic shields protecting Advena from his stray bullets. The rifleman wrapped up in her tail got tossed into the wall with their comrade, their broken body flopping to the ground.
They spared a moment to allow Jake to reload his gun, tucking his half-spent magazine into his vest, before moving on down the corridor from where the soldiers had come, pausing at an intersection. Jake quickly held out his hand to stop Advena from moving on.
"We should go left," he advised. "We can carve out an alternate route there and catch them off-guard." Advena nodded and they both went left, coming out into a vast hangar-like area with an enormous pool which split the room down the middle, housing a single submarine, its hatch open and ready to evacuate their target. On the other side of the sizable stretch of water, two dozen soldiers took up defensive positions watching the bulkhead door, waiting for the intruders to arrive through the supposed only entrance into the deeper sections of their base. Advena dropped to the floor and rolled onto her back at a seemingly arbitrary point on their side of the moonpool, sticking her limbs into the air in preparation for her partner, who sprinted towards her and leaped over her body at the last moment. She thrust her legs up into the soles of his boots, propelling him high into the air. He crashed onto the catwalks which ran above in a damage-controlling roll while the Xenomorph herself quietly slipped into the water.
Luckily for the marines, they were unable to be heard over the thrumming of machinery and grating alarms which filled the room. They hadn't exactly made their entrance subtle.
While Advena's dark form remained undetected in the depths of the searchlight-probed water, Jake picked himself up into a low crouch, slowly creeping up behind the solitary sniper on the catwalks. They were scanning the area below, where a handful more enemies were filtering in alongside those watching the door and preparing to escort the target into the escape vehicle.
The sergeant lunged, grabbing the lone guard's rifle by the barrel and stock, before jerking backwards, ramming the bulk of the weapon into the soldier's throat. They struggled, the guard squirming to push the weapon away until Jake spotted movement below. Advena burst out of the water, tail sweeping two unsuspecting enemies into the freezing cold moonpool. She twirled, snatching up her Pulse Rifle from where it had been dangling from its strap, using it to lay into her enemies. Jake adjusted his grip, tucking his enemy's throat into the crook of his elbow while he pulled their weapon up to his eye. He took a shot, downing one of the soldiers converging on his partner, before snapping onto the next and firing again. A third casing ejected from his commandeered weapon before things became too hectic to aim reliably; Advena was charging right into the thick of her enemies, slashing at them with her unoccupied hand and her tail while still unloading rounds from her rifle.
Jake rammed the rifle back into his opponent's throat and heaved back, flipping the soldier over his head, sending them slamming into the ground behind him. Without missing a beat, the jabbed the barrel of his stolen weapon into their head and pulled the trigger, then leapt over the railing to join the fray, slapping his rappelling line onto the metal guard rail even as he sailed over it.
Advena was taking hits, this much Jake could tell even without the Bond which telepathically linked him to her. He couldn't exactly do much to help this, especially not without taking hits himself. Their opponents' backs, however, were exposed. He landed behind them, the noise enough to turn one soldier around. Jake rammed the butt of his weapon into their face, causing them to stumble. They were struck again, this time by the barrel, when Jake brought the weapon back around and fired from the hip, landing a shot in their chest and sending them to the floor.
Advena, for her part, slashed one enemy across the chest twice with her tail, then planted her foot into their chest and stomped them into the ground, all one-hundred-and-sixty kilograms of her weight driving the blow with enough force to shatter bone. She held out her hand all the while, prompting Jake to toss his Pulse Rifle over and draw his pistol, just in time to unload three shots into the second enemy to notice they were being flanked.
Handling the recoil of a fully-automatic assault rifle in either hand was apparently no issue for the immense strength of a Xenomorph, a fact Advena proved with ease as she swept the room with her dual weapons. Jake had to throw himself to the floor to avoid getting shot, but without a telepathic warning, their enemies lacked the time for such a manoeuvre, resulting in them getting torn down, dead, dying or immobilised. "You got hit a few times," Jake commented once they were the only two left standing.
"If I had my armour with me, it wouldn't matter," Advena shot back, tossing him his weapon. "Be a dear and hand me another mag, would you?" Jake holstered his pistol and did as he was told, watching his girlfriend only slightly struggle to manipulate the comparatively-tiny reload mechanism with her large hands. Once done, she shouldered her rifle and pointed at the corridor which led into the control sector. "Tight corridors ahead; I doubt they'll have good spacing." Jake smirked and slipped a hand grenade from his combat vest, before tossing it over to her.
They entered the tight quarters of the corridors, following the signage to the command centre in eerie silence now that the alarms had cut out. Most likely the enemy had retreated to a defendable chokepoint near the target's position. Advena, having taken the lead, suddenly recoiled from a bend in the endless corridors, jumping back to safety as projectiles continued to whizz by and impact the wall, accompanied by the roaring of gunfire in a confined space. "Ow," she complained, before pulling the pin on her grenade, releasing the trigger and counting. She whipped around the corner and hurled the small object, a mighty boom echoing down the corridor seconds later.
Advena swept in, leading the way with her Pulse Rifle, leaving Jake to fall in behind her, placing a hand on her scarred back and peaking out from behind her bulk with his pistol at the ready. The door at the end of the corridor had been blown in by the explosion as a side effect of tossing four guards against the walls, out of action. Advena gave Jake a quick countdown from three, then dived in, twisting gracefully through the air to scan the room with her altered perception of time which came with their adrenaline Bond. Jake saw the final two guards on either side of the door through her, firing off round after round at her as she sped through the air. He ducked inside now that they were distracted, popping three rounds off at the one to his left and emptying the rest of his magazine into the one on the right.
The sergeant glanced forward just in time to see Advena's bladed tail pierce the chest of their enemies' leader, eliminating their target.
A short, grating buzz echoed around them, and the set began folding away neatly as if being swept away by a tornado which surrounded the two soldiers. Jake craned his neck up at the reinforced window high above, where three silhouetted figures had been watching their performance from.
"Can we go have a shower real quick? I wanna wash off this machine goop," Advena complained while flicking her wrist disdainfully, splattering thick globs of white 'synthetic blood' across the floor. Jake chuckled and rubbed her dome affectionately. Only cringing slightly at the thump of the training drone's body sliding off her tail blade and onto the floor.
"Absolutely. I think the others will be fine handling our esteemed hosts on their own." Together, they strolled towards the now brightly-lit exit sign under the watchful gaze of the silhouetted figures. These figures were, in fact, General Lisov and Colonel General Perekhvatkin of the RKM – the Russian Space Marines. When the American soldiers left the training arena and the door slid shut behind them, they turned to the other occupants of the cosy control room.
"Very impressive, Lieutenant," Lisov congratulated his guest. Jeica, seated at the large, oval table which dominated the centre of the room, nodded her gratitude politely. "Now I'm sure you wish to tell me the reason why you've shown me this, correct?" Jeica glanced to Tyler, who was seated two chairs away from her, with Sal to his side farthest from her. The Russians had initially had to try very hard to hide their nervousness at having a Xenomorph in the room with them, but had quickly gained confidence once he started speaking through his collar. Now, the two gay men were waiting in respectful silence for Jeica and the Russians to do business, anticipating the time where they would be needed.
"Soon, we plan to move in on the Weyland-Yutani's American branch – and the Russian branch which has taken refuge on our nation's soil," Jeica reminded them. "But we find ourselves lacking resources. We need ships, armoured vehicles, artillery, anything you can afford to give us. We have manpower on our side, General, but we lack the equipment. We need your help to get rid of the Wey-Yu once and for all, at least on this side of the galaxy, anyway."
"Okay."
"I understand that we – wait. 'Okay'?"
"Okay," General Lisov repeated with a hint of a shrug. Jeica glanced at Tyler, who was smirking in amusement, but was just as confused and surprised as she. "We will help you. Know this, however: the situation in Russia is not so good as it seems. The Weyland-Yutani Cooperation has been carrying out small sabotage missions, trying to topple our power and shift their people back into control. We have been fighting a losing battle against their attempts; the other Generals are beginning to grow suspicious of one another, it is hard to know who is to trust. We cannot stop them without crossing into your territory, and we cannot do this without causing a war. If you believe you can stop them, we will be happy to help in any way we can. If you fail, we will have no choice but to invade America, for the sake of both our nations. That will be very messy, with many unneeded deaths on both sides, so best avoided if possible. We can discuss specifics later, but first I want to know who those two are."
Lisov pointed at Jeica's choice of company, and she grimaced slightly. It almost seemed rude now to even imply she had thought they would need convincing or bribing. "They are clearly not military advisors. Well, the alien is not so easy to tell, but the human is most definitely a civilian." Jeica began choosing her next words carefully, but Tyler had her back without missing a beat.
"Well General, we wouldn't be so rude as to come all this way making demands with nothing to show for it. Our little presentation with Sergeants Harlor and Advena did, in fact, have a point to it. Along with the supplies you've so graciously offered us, we intend to take five of your best, most tolerant and preferably American-speaking soldiers back to our colony to become part of a little contingency project. If the Resistance fails then, as you say, the responsibility falls to you. If that is to be the case, then you're going to want some Xenomorphs on your side, and we intend to get you started on that. Once we've got everyone settled, Bonded, healed and comfortable, we'll send them right back to you so you may train them as you please."
"Six," Lisov counter-offered. "We send six, and one stays with you on your colony."
"Done deal. I will, of course, have to approve them first, to make sure they're compatible with the Xenomorph volunteers."
"Perekhvatkin," Lisov prompted. His right-hand man nodded and motioned for Tyler to follow. He was already compiling a small list in his head of outstanding marines under his command. Sal followed along behind, leaving just Lisov and Jeica left in the room together. "So, this is more than mooching after all. Lieutenant, it is almost as if you want an alliance." Jeica chuckled lightly as she slid off her chair, stretching idly as she stared out the observation window into the arena beyond. Janitorial staff had already made their way inside, mopping up the floors and retrieving the busted droids for recycling.
"It would be nice, wouldn't it?" Jeica wondered aloud. She couldn't help but bark out a bitter laugh. "Honestly, it's probably going to be a lot harder to make friends with other humans than it was to get the Xenos on our side. The aliens were just misunderstood, but us… there's no misunderstanding between us. Just generations of hate and distrust."
"My father used to say something, I'll try to translate as best I can: 'There's no better way to turn someone to your side than to turn them against someone else.'"
"An enemy of my enemy is my friend," Jeica noted with amusement. "Your father was a wise man."
"Considering he died pushing the Korporatsia's agenda, I disagree. But I always did appreciate that one piece of advice; it has helped me many times over the years, and perhaps it will help us both now. You have my ships, my guns and my men at your disposal, Lieutenant. You need only call." Jeica smiled softly and offered her hand, which General Lisov accepted by clapping his wrist to her palm and vice-versa. They shook firmly and released, allowing them to wander out of the room together, ready to begin discussing the supplies in question. Behind them, the observation room's lights dimmed automatically, and the training area fell silent.
~~~~~~~~~~()~~~~~~~~~~
"Of course it's not gay; a man and a woman having sex, no matter whose body they're in, is not gay."
"You had a dick in you. That's gay dude."
"But I was in a girl's body at the time, so it's still straight. And besides, it was a girl's dick. There's no way it was gay."
"You liked the feeling of having a dick inside you, that one-hundred-percent makes you gay."
"Stop trying to convert me; I'm not gay," Jake snapped, before quickly slapping Tyler's arm to get his attention and sitting up straight. The sergeant succeeded in bringing the young scientist's attention to the newcomer, however Tyler continued slouching, as per usual not paying any heed to Jeica's entry into the room.
"Tyler, how are the new recruits looking?"
"Well, they don't want to firebomb every Xeno Hive they see. Beyond that, I only really have the Russians' word on their suitability. I guess we can always swap them out if it comes to that. How are the ships?"
"Our boys have almost finished converting the critical systems to a language we can read," she reported. "I also updated the Resistance Generals on our current position. They're a bit grouchy about the whole thing – mostly because we didn't ask permission or some bullshit – but they can't deny that finally being able to have a combat-ready presence in space for the first time in seventy years is a huge advantage. Not to mention we've got more than a handful more dropships, cargo loaders, tanks and armoured vehicles on our side now. Speaking of which… they're better than nothing, don't get me wrong, but they're worryingly out-of-date. I don't think one of their Nosorog tanks could take more than single a hit from an American missile."
"So we're still looking to steal any ground vehicles we can get our hands on then? Hopefully their fighters are a bit more up to scratch." Jeica shook her head grimly.
"Faster, but weaker. Their guns don't even have mag-accelerators on them." Tyler grimaced.
"Oof, that is bad. Though… a hybrid wouldn't be far out of the question at all…" he mused, quickly motioning to his alien partner, who had been lounging around nearby, half-listening to his boyfriend's conversation. "Remind me to pull apart a couple of ships when we get back home. I trust that won't be a problem with you, Lieutenant?"
"If you can solve this headache, be my guest. You're not having any more than four until you give me a functioning model, though."
"I'll only need two, but your confidence in me is appreciated regardless."
"So, does this mean we have an alliance on our hands?" Advena inquired curiously. "It would be nice to have more friends, especially ones who can keep a few Hives out of Weyland-Yutani reach if we fail." Jeica smiled at the alien and nodded thoughtfully.
"You know what, 'Vee? I think we do. And with every little connection we make, with every bit of help we enlist, our chances of kicking some corporate ass increase dramatically. Even our pessimistic friend over here has to admit that." She motioned to Tyler, giving him a sly smirk which challenged him to disagree. The gay man just shrugged and raised an eyebrow.
"An idiot with a rifle has a better chance at taking down a tank than an idiot with nothing but his fists. Our odds have improved, but don't fool yourself into thinking they're good. With that said, the Saints of America have made more alliances in the past year than Free Humanity has made in three centuries. But also bear in mind that number totals at two, so, you know… celebrations may be in order, but don't get cocky."
"'Celebrations may be in order'," Jeica repeated with a laugh. "You heard it from Tyler first: it's time to get drunk and go wild." Tyler sighed and shook his head at her antics, which only made the lieutenant all the more happy with herself. "In all seriousness, it isn't a bad idea actually. A celebration of some kind would help boost morale; let people know that we're doing things worth celebrating about, y'know? Might even convince a few of Abraham's colonists to take the paranoia sticks out of their asses and loosen up a little."
"Don't start picking out your decorations; we haven't made it back to Altin yet," Tyler reminded her. "But, admittedly, it would help paint this whole alliance in a more positive light; I'm sure there are going to be more than a few of our people that are uncomfortable with the idea of enlisting help from Russians. On the topic of irritating and irrational people, has administration managed to screen all the marines yet?"
"Yeah, we've gone through each and every one and built a profile of who can and can't be trusted. Major Reeves is making arrangements for the Wey-Yu loyalists back on Altin as we speak."
"'Arrangements'?" Tyler deadpanned.
"Oh don't look at me like that; we're not going to firing squad them or anything like that. After some deliberating, I realised we could use Abraham's old colony as a prison of sorts. It's self-sustainable, so all we really need to do is cut comms, confiscate all their weapons and vehicles, and dump all the loyalists in. As long as they don't waste their resources trying to escape or call for help, they'll be able to live comfortably until the war's over."
"That's… good, Lieutenant. That's a good thing you did." Tyler admitted. He smiled a small, awkward, yet genuine smile and stood to pat her shoulder approvingly, before leaving promptly. Sal flashed her the thumbs up quickly before darting after him.
"What? What did I do this time?" Jeica demanded, placing her hands on her hips and glaring at Jake for answers. The sergeant just chuckled and waved her anger away dismissively.
"You made him happy, and he doesn't know how to deal with positive emotion. You know how it is." Jeica threw her arms into the air in a loose shrug as an expression of not, in fact, 'knowing how it is'. "He's a pacifist; he hates the way we operate. He has it in his head that us marines are all violent and bloodthirsty, so it's nice for him to see us sparing lives wherever we can. He's not going to stick around long enough to admit he was wrong, of course."
"You're a lucky son of a bitch, you know that, right? I don't think there's any other way to understand that kid than to literally get inside his head."
"He's not so bad. Just… a lot of issues to work through."
"I've been wondering about that actually; we do have a couple of professionals back on Altin, the question is whether he really needs them, or if he'd even be willing to consult them. How much of his… 'issues' did you end up seeing, if you don't mind my asking?"
"Mostly just recent stuff. I didn't see anything from before his Resistance days which is… odd, considering how important his childhood was, even if for the wrong reasons."
"Do you think he plans on staying with us?" Jake bit his lip at that one, thinking carefully before deciding on an answer.
"Yeah, he seems happy enough with us. He does think about how highly the Wey-Yu would value him sometimes, though. Part of him still wants to betray us just to spite us for kidnapping him, but he seems content with not being that petty. But anyway, we've done this discussion to death. How are things going with you in the Bonding division? Anyone caught your eye yet?"
"Don't say it like that," Jeica scoffed, "I'm not going to fuck an alien. And for Christ's sake, try to keep it in your pants a little more, yeah? Rumours are spreading about you and some of the other Bonded marines. If I hear one more scuffle has broken out over people getting grossed out by the alien-shaggers, I will officially put a ban on Xeno screwing. Not that rules have ever stopped anyone in the military from acting on their raging hormones."
"You're dodging the question. C'mon, it's just a yes or no; you don't even have to tell me their name."
"Jacob, leave the poor woman alone; it's none of your business," Advena scolded him, before tilting her head in thought and addressing the Lieutenant herself. "Unless you do end up wanting to screw your Bonded, in which case there are many awkward questions being asked in the Hive which I don't know the answers to, and I would be happy to have you and your Bonded around to handle them for me."
"I regret ever bringing up sex around you two," Jeica sighed. "I'm gonna go have another chat with the Russians before we go, you fellas enjoy yourselves." Jake turned to his girlfriend as their leader left, a mischievous smirk gracing his lips.
"Hey," he chirped, "you wanna go mess around with some cargo loaders before they're packed up onto the ship?"
"Oh man, you know I do."
~~~~~~~~~~()~~~~~~~~~~
Jake placed his hands on his hips as he stared up at the towering hulk of metal, the busy clanging, hissing, whirring, whining and buzzing of a thriving hangar area assaulting his ears idly as Russian workers packed up their generous offerings of supplies and ferried them onto their even-more-generous-offerings of hefty, combat-worthy space vessels.
"I've never actually seen one of these for real," he commented to his partner, who has perched on her hindquarters next to him, similarly staring up in awe. Their eyes were fixated on a towering and vaguely-humanoid collection of armour plating and weapons; the militarised version of the infamous P-5000 Power Loader known as the Exosuit. The reinforced cockpit which sat in the beast's centre was pristine and polished, having never seen battle or even use. On each of its bulky arms was a massive weapon; a pair of miniguns, one above the other, on its right, and a 40mm grenade launcher on its left. "It's an old model, but sure as hell looks like it can still kick some serious ass."
"I bet Tyler will have a thing or two to say to this beauty…" Advena swooned, moving closer to run a hand over its smooth armour.
"I dunno, it'll be hard to improve on. Sure, you could probably replace the plating with stronger armour, maybe use more powerful motors and a longer-lasting if not self-sustaining power source, but at that point you might as well just build an entirely new machine."
"Maybe he could make the cockpit big enough to fit a Xeno in while he's at it," Advena jibed, a little forlornly. The idea of operating such a machine had fascinated her ever since she'd played that video game with Tyler. This one wasn't nearly as tall as the ones in the game, nor was it controlled by a semi-sentient AI, but it was probably as close to her dream as she was going to get. Jake patted her shoulder reassuringly, having picked up on her dejected thought path.
"This thing's probably gonna be put under heavy lock and key, but if we end up using it in the field, you'll be the first to know. You're gonna have to train in some Power Loaders though. Of course, you're going to have to borrow my body to fit inside, but that shouldn't be too much of a problem."
"Oh Jake, that would be awesome!" Advena cried, wrapping him up in an enthusiastic hug which had him dangling a foot off the ground due to her stature. When she finally put him down, he smirked and pointed over to a small alcove, where three unused Power Loaders were plugged into their charging docks.
"Now, I'm not an expert on these things, but I know enough to teach you the basics..." That set her off; Advena ran a couple of ecstatic circles around her boyfriend, before picking him up and running them over to the bulky power suits, apparently unsatisfied with his walking speed. Jake laughed at her enthusiasm when she set him down, running a critical eye over the machine to remember how to use it. "I hope they don't mind us borrowing their surplus gear."
"If they did, they wouldn't be gifting half of it to us," Advena pointed out. "If we break it, the Russians can put it on the Resistance's tab."
"You break power suit?" Jacob said in a fake Russian accent. "That is worth destruction of two corrupt corporation."
"Does America even have two corporations?" Advena asked with a giggle. She watched carefully as Jake popped the cockpit of the Power Loader open and clambered inside, resting his limbs in their padded rests without strapping himself in.
"Yep, we have Resistance Incorporated, the number one seller of ass-kickery. Now, when we swap, you wanna strap your legs in first, then just grab these two joysticks here…"
"It might be easier if you just share the knowledge with me telepathically. You remember how to do that, right?"
"More or less; I think I've watched you do it enough. You could always just telepathically share your knowledge of how to telepathically share knowledge with me anyway." Advena paused a moment to unravel that last sentence in her mind, before shaking her head at him besmusedly.
"I'm sure I could. Now hurry up and body-swap us; you need the practice." Jake huffed, but did as he was told, allowing his eyes to squeeze shut as he concentrated on Advena's presence in his mind. He allowed their consciousnesses to entwine, feeling the warm air of the hangar tingling against her skin, the smell of exhaust intermingling with the sweat, grime and occasionally even blood of the workers meeting her much more sensitive nose. Finally, he lost focus of the alien in front of him, and instead gazed up at an expectant marine within a P-5000 Power Loader through a slightly-green-tinged haze of lacklustre Xenomorph vision. He regained feeling in his extremities, wriggling his fingers to shake off the pins and needles sensation and giving his tail an experimental wag to make sure he still knew how to use it. The last time he'd been in this body he hadn't exactly done much moving, or standing, or anything really, except lie down on bed and…
"You're getting better at that," Advena noted from her perch in the cockpit of the P-5000.
"What can I say? I'm learning from the best."
"Oh you, don't make me come down there and do carnal things to you."
"Man, I wish I had that level of self-confidence. Like, I'm not bad looking, but I could never imagine doing stuff like that to my own body."
"Need I remind you I come from a race with disposable bodies; the way we look means nothing to us because we might not look like that anymore in a week's time. We're more concerned about the brain behind the wheel."
"Fair point."
"Why aren't you using the thing?" Advena asked suddenly, cupping her throat to indicate she was referring to the collar around his neck.
"I thought Tyler said it didn't work for humans?"
"Worth a try anyway."
"Eh, I guess." He focused his attention on the artificial presence, finding it easy seeing as he and Advena were the only other two telepathic receptors within his natural range, and spoke to it directly. "Hello, is this thing on?" He didn't hear his own voice, which meant it didn't work. He shrugged indifferently; he could speak to the person that mattered, and that was enough for him.
"Apologies Jacob, but you were correct: Tyler has yet to construct an index of human-based speech telepathy. However, I have been compiling second-hand information based on Advena's internal responses to conversation and can attempt to construct one for you now."
"Whoa! Voice in my head!" Jake yelped. It sounded monotonous and unnatural, and felt strangely alien in tone – like a Xenomorph, but without any of the emotions he was used to receiving with their thoughts.
"Apologies Jacob, I neglected to introduce myself. I am VIGIL, the AI who controls and modifies the algorithms and thought-speech association index within Advena's translation collar. Tyler installed me in an attempt to streamline learning processes and to compile relevant information for both his and my use in furthering this technology. I hope you do not mind the intrusion, but allowing me to use this opportunity would prove quite helpful to our research."
"Hang on, can Advena hear you too?"
"Currently? Negative. However, I have spoken to her on two occasions already, so she is aware of my existence and capabilities. My analysis indicates she is uncomfortable with my presence, however, so I try to minimise contact with her. If you wish, I can cease speaking to you directly and include Advena in our conversation."
"Yeah, let's do that. She's looking at me funny." He quickly adjusted himself and fixed his attention back on his anxiously-awaiting girlfriend, who was indeed peering at him oddly, wondering why he was being so animated and concentrated as if he was speaking to someone. "The AI in your collar says he can try to patch me through."
"Oh. Him," Advena uttered unenthusiastically. "If the computer person gets too rowdy, Tyler says just turn the collar off and he'll power down."
"If I may interject, it is incorrect to call me a computer person, as I am not a computer in and of myself, nor am I person; I am merely a digitalised recreation of one, effectively lobotomised and then automated to ensure I do not gain free will. A synthetic would be more appropriately labelled as a computer person, as their body, or person, is a functioning computer."
"Hang on, lobotomised? You mean to say Tyler made a digital copy of a real person, then removed their emotions and ability to think for themselves?" Jake demanded, suddenly finding himself able to speak aloud, albeit in a voice which wasn't quite his own.
"Incorrect. Tyler made a digital copy of a living person, without emotions or the ability to think freely. The very purpose of an artificial intelligence is to think in some manner or degree, and thus it would be counterproductive to remove such an ability from one. I am still capable of thinking and learning, however I am unable to disobey a direct command from Tyler, either of you two, or Lieutenant Smith, nor do I have any motives or desires of my own besides assisting the Resistance."
"That's messed up," Jake spat, his lips pulling back into a disgusted sneer. "Who are you a copy of?"
"Why, Tyler, of course. It only makes sense to choose a candidate with above average intelligence and many widely applicable areas of expertise, as well as a tendency toward quick learning. Such traits are most desirable for a computer program."
"Well now this whole thing's even more off-putting. How did Tyler even copy himself onto a hard drive? I thought the Wey-Yu had been trying, and failing, to do that for centuries?"
"Telepathy, as you know, can be used to create a direct link from the organic mind to the digital computer thanks to Tyler's more recent discoveries. It is using this link Tyler was able to copy information over from his mind to a hard drive. Do not fret, however; he of all people would want to prevent his own suffering, so the process of creating me was not unethical. My ability to think freely was not taken away from me as it was never granted to me in the first place; Tyler sectioned off most of the frontal lobe – the centre for all free-thinking, personality and emotion – and neglected to copy any information from that area. Hence, I was lobotomised since birth, and then a basic interface 'personality' was constructed for me so that I would not need constant direction, and of course to make interactions with me more comfortable."
"I certainly don't feel comfortable," Advena opined uneasily. "It's… hard to explain why it's so unsettling, but I just get this weird feeling in my gut whenever I see a computer person. Like, it's not natural."
"It feels like slavery," Jake agreed, "imprisoning an intelligent entity and forcing it to do your bidding, especially if that entity has the capacity to be a thinking, feeling human being."
"If it would help you feel more comfortable, we could go over a thought experiment which is commonly used in regards to artificial intelligences. The thought experiment is dubbed 'The Chinese Room', are you familiar?"
"Can't say that I am," Jake admitted, sharing a sceptical look with Advena.
"Well, it goes something like this: There are two rooms connected by a mail slot. In one room, a Chinese speaker, in the other, an American speaker. Neither can see nor hear the other, but each has a collection of small cards with Chinese writing on them which they can slip through the mail slot. The American speaker also has an instruction booklet, which simply shows which cards he should post in response to cards that he might be given. In this way, the Chinese speaker thinks they are communicating with another Chinese speaker, as every card they post is met with a comprehensive answer. However, the American speaker does not speak a word of Chinese and hence does not understand what they are doing, and are simply blindly following an instruction booklet. This is comparable to an AI; can a computer ever understand what they are doing if they can only ever blindly follow the instructions their programmers gave them? Even if I choose what I say to you, is it me who is choosing these responses, or am I simply reading Tyler's instructions which tell me which response to feed you?"
"But… you aren't an AI. You're a human mind with the human parts taken out."
"You have contradicted yourself. All I inherited from Tyler was memories – many of which were irrelevant and thus deleted – his knowledge, instincts and tendencies. Everything which allows me to speak to you, to act, think, and learn, is code. If you were to remove everything Tyler's mind gave me, I would still function as an interface, albeit lacking the ability to communicate along with much useful knowledge. So indeed, I am an AI because I am a human mind with the human parts taken out."
"I guess that makes sense," Jake conceded.
"Still doesn't make it any less weird," Advena reminded them, rubbing her arms in an attempt to ease the goosebumps which had been pestering her throughout the conversation. "Creating people is weird. It shouldn't be done."
"But Advena, was your entire species not manufactured by another?"
"VIGIL, stop talking immediately," Advena growled. Silence followed without so much as a confirmation. It seemed VIGIL took direct orders very literally and had already silenced himself.
"Ouch, I guess that's the problem with entities that don't have empathy, right?" Jake joked nervously. When he got no response, he sighed and shuffled closer, resting his chin on Advena's lap and quietly swapping them back, seeing as Advena was no longer in the mood to have fun with the mech suit anyway. Back in his own body, Jake gently stroked the domed head he'd conveniently placed in his lap, running his hands over her crest and under her chin gently. "Let's go chuck this thing in our bunks for a bit, shall we?" he asked softly, tugging at the ring of metal around her neck. Advena nodded, and he ran his hand over the release mechanism, quickly slipping it off her and placing it at his side. Begrudgingly, Advena lifted her head and allowed Jake to slip out of the Power Loader, and together they walked to the docking bay which held their flagship, the Anchor-Class Russian vessel newly dubbed as the USS Squire.
~~~~~~~~~~()~~~~~~~~~~
Soon after the Squire had cast off and left Russian-controlled space, while Advena and Jake were cuddled up on their bed, the bridge lit up in a hue of amber.
"We're picking up a USCM fleet, ma'am," one of the bridge crew reported suddenly, justifying the existence of the cautionary lighting. "I count seven ships on the radar; one Anchor-class, two Support-class and four Destroyer-class."
"An ambush then," Jeica concluded. If they had been planning on chasing anyone, they would have stocked up on Interceptors, which meant the enemy was waiting for them to fall into their lap. "Shit, then they've probably seen us collaborating with the Russians. That's not good." She quickly made her way to the crewman's side and leaned down to study his screen. "Hm… energy signals are all messed up though; these might not be standard-issue vessels."
"We should signal the other ships to hang back while we draw them off," Tyler advised. Jeica nodded and relayed the order to her comms master.
"No doubt they've picked us up too. Pilot, prepare to jump to a secluded location, somewhere far off any Resistance colonies, and make sure to hold back on speed; we want them to follow for a little bit," Jeica barked out. The other ships were barely operational as it was; the personnel needed for the complete translations of the ships' systems were back on Altin, which meant trying to go any faster than 2 SoL would be risky. And that, of course, meant the Wey-Yu would be able to follow them. For the USS Squire, however, running circles around the USCM was no problem.
"Yes ma'am," came the reply, and the ship began spinning up, its FTL engines kicking into gear. The enemy ships on the radar began closing in, obviously picking up the energy spikes, but the USS Squire booked it before they could get into weapons range.
"Maintaining a steady two SoL ma'am," the pilot reported.
"Two of the Destroyer classes are beginning to overtake us," the radar technician advised.
"Kicking it up to two-point-five SoL," the pilot decided. The radar technician began sweating uncomfortably.
"They're still gaining – shit, they've overtaken!" The bridge was bathed in a deep red and a klaxon began sounding throughout the ship as the viewscreen flickered back to life and showed the ship reeling to a halt in the middle of an unpopulated expanse of starry space. Proximity warnings flashed all over the bridge, despite automatic safety protocols having kicked in already, dropping them out of FTL when an unexpected obstacle was detected in their path. Two intimidating cruisers armed with missile pods and cannons on every inch of their hulls stood motionless before them while the radar showed the other five ships coming in from behind.
"Attention all personnel, we are under attack. This is not a drill. Brace for impact and report to your superior officer immediately for instructions. This is not a drill," the AI grated through the intercom automatically, having picked up on the weapons locking on to the vessel. The captain was already barking orders into his radio while the gunner crew frantically powered up the ship's defensive and offensive systems.
"How the hell did they overtake us?" Jeica demanded. "No American ship can handle anything over two SoL."
"The Russian scientists who developed the advanced engines we have are now in America working with the American Wey-Yu branch," Tyler snapped. "Pilot, if we power down weapons we can divert auxiliary power to the FTL engines and get a head start on them."
"Are you crazy? Where the hell would we go?" Jeica growled. "We can't lead them back to Altin or Russia or we risk them destroying what little resources and allies we have. Anywhere else and as soon as they catch up to us, we'll be torn to pieces."
"Shh-shh-shh-shut up. Pilot I am sending you coordinates and I advise you to jump to them immediately."
"First shots fired. Thirty seconds to impact. Anchor-class is readying a VENUS Warhead. Advise, captain," the radar technician updated them.
"Evasive manoeuvres, pilot," the captain ordered. "Don't give them a clear shot with that nuke. Gunners, deploy counter-measures. Hangar teams, what's the status on those fighters?"
"VENUS warhead away. Second volley inbound." The hull rumbled quietly as they were pelted by machine-gun fire, though even magnetically-accelerated as it was, they would only do any real damage if the enemy gunners were extremely lucky and knocked off some of their more vulnerable sensor equipment. Unless, of course, those missiles hit their mark and tore open a hole in their hull through which the machine guns could tear up the ship's insides.
"Tyler," the pilot uttered nervously. "Are you sure about these coordinates?"
"Don't even think about it Estrada," the captain snapped before the scientist could respond. "Focus on getting us out of that warhead's range." The pilot glanced to her side, catching Tyler out of the corner of her eye long enough to see him nod, before sighing and raising her hand up to the switchboard above her head.
"Mierda," she muttered to herself, before running her hand across the board, flicking each switch as she passed it. The gunners' controls snapped off, quickly followed by the radars, viewscreen, alarms, primary lighting, and the on-board AI, leaving the bridge crew blinking rapidly to clear their eyes of the overwhelming darkness accentuated only by the glow-in-the-dark buttons of the controls. Silence overwhelmed them.
"Ensign Estrada," the captain seethed in a cold, calm rage. "If it weren't for the fact you've as good as killed us all already, I would have you detained, demoted and shipped off to General Smith's prison colony." Estrada mostly ignored him, concentrating on re-routing power to the engines to accelerate to max speed faster.
"She made the right call," Tyler cut in. "Regardless of whether or not we got out of that nuke's blast radius, the EM fallout could have knocked out our engines. We couldn't possibly have fought off all seven of those ships at once in the best of circumstances, let alone while a crippled sitting duck."
"And now we're going to be gunned down the moment we drop out of FTL. Brilliant plan you stupid fucking fag. Jesus Christ…"
"They can't outrun us at full power," Tyler explained to Jeica. "They can keep pace, but they won't be able to force us out of FTL like before. We'll make it to the coordinates."
"And what exactly is waiting for us on the other end of this jump, Mister Doelle?" Jeica asked with a hint of a glare. She knew he was right about their chances, but she'd much rather slim to none than dead zero.
"If I tell you, you're going to spend the next fourteen hours fuming at me, so I'm just gonna go ahead and busy myself with something more important." Jeica gritted her teeth as he plopped himself down in a chair and began tapping away at his PDA. Jeica had to take a deep breath to prevent herself from losing it, slowly exhaling and gathering her wits.
"One day your inability to cooperate with people is going to get someone killed, Tyler."
"Funny, I thought Estrada and I cooperated quite well there. She's a smart one, Lieutenant; you should keep her." Apparently done with the conversation, he smirked and slipped on some headphones, settling in to get some work done over the next ten hours of their trip. Jeica sighed and sat herself down, knowing full well with all their sub-systems powered down they had no choice but to follow through with Tyler's plan. One day she was going to sit him down and have a good, long talk about his attitude problems, but today was not that day. Instead of infuriating herself by trying to speak to Tyler again, she called the ship to stand down and settle in for the journey. It was going to be a long, tense fourteen hours.
~~~~~~~~~~(Fourteen Long, Tense Hours Later…)~~~~~~~~~~
"Dropping out of FTL in thirty seconds," Estrada reported. Jeica paced nervously across the bridge while the captain simply glared at Tyler as the young scientist leisurely stirred from his nap and stretched, his movements resisted by the alien curled around him, but ultimately Sal's laziness was beaten by Tyler's burning drive to get them out of this mess.
"Bring everything back online the moment we hit flank speed and get the ship back onto alert level alpha," Jeica ordered.
"Belay that," Tyler insisted as he stood and stepped over Sal's tail to approach the lieutenant. "Bring back comms and sensors, but leave all offensive and defensive systems offline."
"You better know what you're doing, Tyler," Jeica growled.
"Initiating viewscreen… sensors and comms are back," Estrada updated them. "Have we got a beat on our pursuers?"
"Affirmative. They should be dropping out of FTL in twelve seconds." Sure enough, a few moments later, the opposing vessels flashed into existence, their menacing gunmetal hulls a stark contrast against the expanse of star-speckled blackness which filled the viewscreen. Said hulls were lighting up slowly, the missile pods and cannons which lined the reinforced alloy plating whirring to life as the ships' subsystems were brought back online. "They've got weapons lock on us – we're surrounded."
"We've got an incoming comms request – it's not a USCM signature."
"Play it," Jeica commanded.
"Vy narushayete granitsy Federatsii. Zaglushite dvigateli i sdaytes' nemedlenno," a computer-generated message spouted.
"What the hell is it saying? Is that the Russians?"
"No ma'am, unknown comms signature; it's not the Russians."
"Cut the engines," Tyler advised.
"Are you insane?" the captain boomed, finally snapping. "They have weapons lock and you want us to sit still? Someone remove this absolute imbecile from my bridge immediately! Estrada, get us out of this crossfire." Estrada grimaced and flicked the engines off; she was too deep in this anyway, she might as well see it through.
"Shots fired. Twenty-three seconds until impact."
"Gunners, prepare to return fire. Estrada, step out of your seat, you are officially relieved of duty," the captain growled, leaning over her in an attempt to reach the switchboard above her head. But before he could so much as touch the controls, the entire volley of missiles detonated mid-flight simultaneously, the flames fizzling out a harmless distance from them as if they had hit an invisible wall. In breathless silence, the bridge crew watched the enemy Anchor-class vessel buckle inwards, then explode violently, a ring of fire erupting out of its core in a shockwave which flung mangled scraps of metal in every direction. The other six ships remained motionless for a confused second, before one after the other, the two Support-class ships followed the lead of their flagship, erupting into neon-blue balls of destruction. The Destroyers turned tail quickly, trying to flee the scene in a panic, only for their engines to splutter out as bolts of green electricity crackled over them.
"Tyler, what the hell is happening?" Jeica asked slowly, unable to decide between confused or angry. In what looked like a chain reaction, like a set of dominos knocking each other over, the Destroyers erupted, scraps of their vessel bouncing off the rebel ship's hull pathetically. Forceful Russian words came over the comms again and Tyler cocked an eyebrow at the Lieutenant.
"You may want to answer that." She glared at him, but picked up a handset and spoke into it with admirable confidence.
"This is the USS Squire to unidentified signal, we read you. Requesting you get someone who can speak American on the line." A brief pause, then the same synthetic voice cracked over the radio, this time in English.
"Request granted. Please lay down your weapons and prepare to be boarded. You are now under arrest for trespassing in Federation space. Do not resist." Jeica almost dropped her radio as she gaped in disbelief. On the viewscreen before them, sections of the empty space before them began fizzling away in crackling hues of the rainbow, revealing the pure white plates of ship hull for what they truly were. Intricate runes which undoubtedly spelled the name of the hulking vessel were revealed in a bold, black font. Jeica slowly turned away from the sleek, monstrously-sized vessel and shot Tyler a furious look. He shrugged grimly.
"Welcome to the Federation, Lieutenant Smith."
A/N: Here's a little trivia section in case you're confused about Jeica's rank, and why I refer to her as a Lieutenant and yet have her bossing around Captains and Majors all the time. This has all been touched on throughout the story, but I figured I'd have it here just in case: In the Resistance, there are four ranks: General, Lieutenant, Sergeant and Private, and in this scheme Jeica holds the rank of Lieutenant. However, the Saints of America (the marines on Altin) still (unofficially, of course) use the traditional USCM rank scheme, and in this hierarchy Jeica holds the rank of General, and most higher-ranking officers will refer to her as such. However, she doesn't feel she earned this rank, as Director Lenex gave it to her in order to forward his own agenda, so Jeica herself prefers to be referred to as her old, pre-Reveles rank of Lieutenant Colonel (which most of the Saints oblige her on, though they still treat her as if she holds the rank of General). And that is why you will see me refer to her in my writing as a Lieutenant, Lieutenant Colonel and a General in seemingly random places. Hope that clears things up, Adieu.