Mi venis, mi vidis, mi venkis.
- Polk
"All the pieces were in place. The gelcircuitry sphere embedded within Polk's brain whirred at high speeds. He accessed every automated system within the heighliner and sent a message to Meara. It was time for his coup to begin, for him to restore his place at the top of the hierarchy. The Hrethgir fleshlings thought that they had defeated the machines, and they had defeated the foolish pure machines, but cymeks were superior. Cymekhood was akin to godhood, and with his Wakyu followers, Polk was now God.

Seven Wakyu appeared before Polk, bearing machines freshly made in the bowels of the heighliner. They began to attach the machines to his cannister, one was a speaker and as soon as it was attached Polk bellowed.

"My beloved disciples! God is here and awakened! Hark! Hear me! Obey! Find the one called Frisch and slay him, cow the other inhabitants into submission, and if they refuse slay them too! Detach the holtzmann drive, but keep it intact. You are my chosen, you are holy! Go forth and conquer!"

As he bellowed her projected the message into the headphones of every Wakyu on the heighliner. An uprising the oppressed had begun. Though soon the oppressed would become the betrayed, and the thought filled Polk with joy.

The Wakyu finished attaching the machines, and for the first time in fourteen long millennia Polk stood. He began to march towards the navigator chamber. The Wakyu could handle the rest of the ship, he had already won and they had already taken control of the armory before he gave his order. Meara was an effective leader, perhaps she would apotheos to cymekhood next, though she could be a threat. Mariamne would certainly be cymekked, though certainly against her will. He was interested to see how the mind of a Reverend Mother would be affected by the process. Soon he would know, he continued his way towards the navigator chamber, the seven Wakyu mechanics having joined the slaughter.

"Polk!" Rourke's voice called out from behind, "the Wakyu have gone insane! You have a body‽ What is happening‽"

"The glorious restoration of cymeks!" Polk cried and laughed maniacally, "worry not! You shall join our hallowed ranks once I've had my fill of your flesh."

Rourke looked on with horror and ran. Polk knew he would be able to find him again, there was nowhere for Rourke to hide.

Polk reached the navigator chamber; the door was sealed shut. It had been manually sealed, he didn't have the access authority to open it. What he did have was freshly made limbs that could rip metal. He took three of his new arms and tore the door from its socket. Within the chamber he saw Frisch banging on the glass that sealed in the mélange gas.

"Po! Po!," Frisch frantically screamed, "Wake up Po! Stop communing, we have a huge problem! Oh God, he's here! He's here! Po!"

Polk grabbed Frisch and cut him in two with a single arm. Frisch's scream would have been blood curdling if Polk had any blood. Now all Polk had to do was figure out how to get Po to agree to serve him. He figured he'd be able to, even if it took years of torture. Worst case scenario he could kill Po and leave the Heighliner stranded, he still had his fleet of machine ships with their old-style engines. Thinking of which Polk sent out a signal that activated every one of the ships, awakening them. His meat brain was inable to directly control the ships, but the gelcircuitry sphere could, one of the benefits of being one of the most advanced cymeks. He made sure to send a backup copy of his memories onto the ships. They couldn't be accessed or run without a human brain, but he had been thinking of ways to erase the contents of brains. It was an experiment he would be delighted to run on some of the Heighliner's inhabitants, he certainly had enough test subjects now.

"Stop," Po said from his container, having now woken up from communing, "I realize I have made a mistake in allowing you to wake, our mentats nor I foresaw the future as it was."

"Stop? Stop‽ Stop!" Polk chortled, "You can't stop me, no one can stop me! I am immortal, I am unassailable, I am Polk! I've won, Po, serve me." Polk had forgotten about the mentats, he definitely wanted to see how one would react to being cymekked.

"You haven't won," Po said, "not yet."

"Really?" Polk mocked, "because it feels like I have."

"Rourke just blew up the armory, and himself, and most of your 'disciples,'" Po said.

The color would have drained from Polk's face if he had had one, "I was so looking forward to playing with him, alas despite this minor setback you can't possibly believe that a single explosion could hamper me so? I have thirty-one machine ships at my command, thousands of meks, even without your Heighliner and your spacefolding it will only delay my conquest by a thousand years."

"Yes," Po said, "that's true. I would content myself with delaying you for a thousand years, but luckily for me I have another opportunity."

"And what would that be?" Polk asked, genuinely curious as what Po had thought up.

"I'm going to fold us into a star," Po said.

Polk laughed, "I ordered my Wakyu to detach the drive, you are powerless until it is reconnected!"

"Rourke blew up the armory, you arrived too quickly," Po said.

Polk knew he would have been breaking out in a cold sweat right now had he had the glands, and he rushed towards the glass, intent to release the mélange and let Po suffocate like a fish on land.

But Po, Paul Idaho, could think quicker than Polk and space folded.