"The world was in dark space, father," Argall said, frowning as he explained, hoping his father might understand the irrationality of what he planned on doing. "Thousands and thousands of light years away from this planet. You'll be looking for a needle in a planet's worth of hay. It's impossible. Father, please reconsider."
His father shook his head. Thragg hovered off the ground, his face grim and eyes dark. Argall understood, most of all, the urge for vengeance. He loved his mother, even when she was mostly out on adventures. And she loved him, even when her idea of love was a little weird. And so, he understood. Like his father, Argall wanted to avenge the death of his mother, wanted to make the Rangdan pay for what they did. But, unlike his father, Argall, unfortunately, did not possess the ability to traverse deep space without equipment or fly faster than the speed of light – two physical impossibilities that his father apparently did not care for in the slightest.
And the other problem was that the reverse-tracker, which he'd created to try and isolate the signals within the Rangdan Monolith, wasn't a hundred percent accurate. 97.89% seemed like good odds, until one factored in the sheer breadth of the cosmos. The remaining 2% could mean a dark and cold void, which was even more terrifying when he considered the fact that the signal was traced all the way to the edge of the galaxy, beyond its borders, even, a place of darkness and dead stars.
And his father wanted to just fly there. Ridiculous. Unthinkable. Illogical. There had to be a better way and they'd probably find one if his father could just wait. However, the window to actually do anything was small and shrinking. The signals on the Rangdan Monolith were fading even as they spoke. In a few days, it'd be gone entirely. Try as he might, Argall did not have the time to build another machine in a few days, not when he now had responsibilities to his people.
"My son," His father said. "Do not worry for me. The map you gave me is enough. I will find the Rangdan Prime. I will kill it. Turn your worries to your people. And try to get along with your sister; she leads her own band of survivors."
"I know," Argall sighed. Her band of survivors lived off of Wilderbeast herds that roamed close to their ruined city. He hadn't approached her just yet, because he honestly wasn't sure how. Growing up, he'd never been close to Sereen. She didn't mistreat him, but they barely interacted, either. She reminded him quite a bit of their mother, who preferred to go out on her own adventures and sought out excitement and wonder for herself, instead of staying in one place. Oh, they got along well enough whenever they were in the same room, but Argall wished they were closer; he wished they treated each other like real siblings, instead of the silent treatment they gave each other. But, it was good to know that she was alive, because it meant they still could try.
Having an actual sister would be nice.
Argall nodded, closed his eyes, and breathed in. "Do as you will, father."
"Like I said, my son," Thragg smiled. "Do not worry about me. I'll be gone for a few months, perhaps, maybe a year. But I will return. And I shall return triumphant, bearing the head of a being that fancies itself a god."
And, with that, Thragg surged upwards and disappeared beyond the clouds, accelerating until he flew faster than light itself. Argall looked up, at the trail of super heated gas and dust left behind in his father's wake. He was gone. Just like that. Argall had no idea how long it would take for his father to defeat the supposed god of the Rangdan and Argall did not have the luxury of being able to wait. If nothing else, his father should distract the aliens long enough for his civilization to grow and thrive, for new generations to be born.
Argall turned and walked away. He had... too many things he needed to do, a thousand tasks that needed to be delegated. And, most of all, he was gonna have to face his sister at some point – consolidate her tribe into his growing... Argall wasn't even sure what to call his group. They were his people, but this wasn't a monarchy and neither was it a dictatorship. If nothing else, Argall was a tribal leader, kind of elected into his position because of his power and his leadership. In time, perhaps, when his people were ready, when everything was prepared for them, when they've transcended the paltry human shell that surrounded them now, perhaps then, Argall would step back and fade into the shadow, like his father.
Alka was no longer a ruin. Well, it still was, but his people were hard-at-work, rebuilding it from the ashes that'd been left behind. Only a few of the old structures still remained. Everything else was destroyed when the Rangdan came for them. And so, much of the work was in clearing out the rubble, men and women, working alongside Scrapper Bots, the few he could spare, to clean up their former home. Of course, the other survivors from the ruins of the sister cities were here as well. A lot of the basic infrastructure that he was actually building was done outside of the ruins; there were plenty of flat plains here, after all, and the soil was the perfect mixture of dry and malleable.
He'd always wondered, actually, since he gained full sapience, why the cities preferred to stay small, instead of expanding outwards, rapidly. There were plenty of natural resources across the entire planet. The mountains were rich in metals and minerals, and clean fresh water flowed in oceans beneath the ground. They certainly had the technology and the understanding with which to operate it. But, for some odd reason, they just didn't. Hence, the strange mixture of advanced and primitive technology.
"Sir Argall," One of his assistants, a Scrapper who'd been by his side since the Rangdan attack, approached. "The Scrapper Bots have finished their salvaging operations of the northern Scrapyard. The Builder Bots have begun construction of the first shelters and the hydroponic farms. By our most generous estimates, they'll be done before the day ends."
Argall nodded and smiled, patting the man on the shoulder.
His Scrapper Bots, by their very name, collected junk material to be processed into more usable materials. Argall's original design had been a machine that processed raw mass into material, but it turned out to be far more advanced that what he was actually capable of building. Oh, he had the blueprints in his head, but the creation of each part and mechanism and then assembling it would take a lifetime. For now, his Scrapper and Builder Bots were much simpler. Scrapper Bots gathered anything that might be useful and the Builder Bots made them useful.
"Thank you for telling me," Argall smiled. The housing infrastructure would go a long way for his people, considering how just about everyone lost their homes in the Rangdan attack; of course, it came with heating and cooling, water pipes and drainage, essentials for every home. The hydroponic farm would go a long way in the creation and normalization of an actual balanced diet for his people. The very idea of consuming vegetables and starches was a foreign concept here; meat was the staple and people supplemented the lack of vitamins and minerals with pills. Unacceptable. A healthy population was a strong population and Argall wasn't about to accept malnutrition.
Also, they really needed to start domesticating the Wilderbeast herds as quickly as possible; having to hunt every single time they needed meat was, indeed, fun, but it wasn't efficient. And with the population's rather sharp decline just a few days ago, all hands were needed to rebuild. Plus, hunting was a job that very few people actually knew how to do.
Hmm... a hundred forms and designs for a Hunter-Killer Bot appeared in his mind – some bigger or faster than others, and some were simply deadlier than others. A few were interesting, but Argall picked the least-complicated one, meant for capturing. For now, their meat stores were more than enough to feed the population for several months. What he needed to do was capture a pregnant female Wilderbeast and domesticate its young.
Once food and shelter were no longer a problem, then maybe they could finally turn their attention to industry.
But all of that would come later. For now, Argall needed to create more Scrapper and Builder bots to hasten the rate of rebuilding. And so, he did just that.
For the next few days, Argall built one more Builder Bot and two Scrapper Bots. Water pipes were reestablished and reconnected and a water tank was built at the center of the ruined Alka; ten more homes were fabricated and a single hydroponic farm was finished. The farm itself couldn't produce much just yet, however, as Argall would need samples of every single local vegetable and root crop; there were, however, plenty of yams that grew near the mountains that could be cultivated as they were suitably rich in starches and could be cooked in boiling water easily.
More and more survivors came to his tribe too in the following days, hungry and desperate. Well, many of them were given tents, water bottles, and dried meat. To further support the growing population, a small team of available hunters and crackshot Scrappers was sent out to hunt as many Wilderbeasts as they could.
A week later, Argall finally found his sister's wandering tribe.
"You're a lot taller than I remember, Argall," His sister, Sereen, said as their delegation approached. She wore the tattered remnants of a Scrapper's Powered Exo-Suit, but its battery was heavily damaged and the only purpose it served now was physical protection. Her disheveled hair, dirty skin, and dark eyes meant she'd had little time to rest in the last few days. She carried with her a scythe-like weapon that seemed to have been made from the remains of Rangdan Warriors, their monomolecular blades that could slice through armor like nothing. The blades, Argall later found, grew from their bodies. Her acolytes, the Scrappers who accompanied her to their meeting, also carried similar weapons, but of a noticeably lower quality. "Damn, you grew up even faster than I thought."
Argall smiled as he glanced down at her. True enough, he now stood at little over nine-feet, which meant he towered over just about everyone. A part of him hoped he wouldn't grow any bigger. Still, his sister stood at a height of six and a half feet, which meant she also towered above most people, just not on the same level as himself. Mother was taller, still. "Mom said all I had to do was eat a lot and here we are."
"Tsk, you look like you ate the whole damn pantry, Argall." Sereen chuckled. And then, her features turned stony. "I hear you're uniting all the survivors into a single tribe. What for?"
"We don't know what's out there, sister," Argall said, briefly turning his gaze to the sky. "The Rangdan will return or they might not. It doesn't matter. Something will come eventually and they might just be stronger than the Rangdan themselves. We cannot let ourselves diminish and rely solely on the Iron Men to protect us. No, our people must flourish. We will reach out to the stars and build an interstellar empire of our own. We shall build ships that sail the stars and fearsome weapons such that no enemy shall stand before us. To do that, however, our people must stand united under one banner, under one glorious purpose."
"Nice speech," Sereen grinned. "Ah, screw it; I didn't even wanna lead those idiots. Let's just group up or whatever, I'm tired and done and I need a damn bath."
"Huh, that was quick." Argall smiled. "And, with that, our people are united. The time has come to look to the future."
"Ah, by the way, where's dad?"
AN: Chapter 26 is up on (Pat)reon!
