EVE Fiction

This is a quasi-true story. The protagonist and his character are true, but the events described are my invention. They're combined from various things he said to some of us over time. He was one of those people who for some reason fade into one’s life, have dramatic effects on it while around (for better or for worse), and then fade out again. I heard later that he had gone planetside for convalescence. Now, some years later still, I've heard he (or his relatives) requested permission restore his next clone with a previous neural burn. In other words, to revert him to a prior, perhaps happier mental state from many years ago. Reportedly there are legalities that have to be overcome before that can be done.

I still my breath, and my ship stills its breath too. Even my crew members make no sound, as I have ordered. Though with a thought I could stop all audio from reaching me in my pod. Though of course even the screaming of a maniac would not penetrate into empty space and alert any prey. I am cloaked and invisible to sensors. I demand that, internally, we be invisible too. No motion. No energies milling around randomly. Complete elimination of the flow of energies and chaordic patterns that emerge in usual human life, that emerge in nature. Here, I cannot tolerate them. Here, I am not a sweat-smelling, filth-producing primate—I am Ship. I am the nervous system that gives life to Ship’s immaculate body, organs and limbs. Space is zero. I/Ship are also zero, and merge into the void. Nothing remains but insectoid sensing and reaction. Ship is a drone, but a sentient one, and beyond the intelligence and ability of even the cruelest and most magnificent drone!

The gate before sits dully, all is silent. Ship is invisible—intangible-- poised, like a frozen mantid watching with forelimbs raised. I/Ship sense think nothing, but sense everything, tuned to react in less than an instant. Minutes pass, or hours. How many? It matters naught. Suddenly, a crewman quietly sighs. Dammit! Ship is lost, I am I in a pod. The crewman will be punished, yes. Through the strength of my self-training I lose mind and become Ship again.

Ship looks in a sphere and senses a large craft in this system. A perfect prey. Looks closer, and closer again, and knows its general position. Suddenly, it leaves! The image of the watched gate changes with the arrival of the craft. Ship buzzes the swarm, reveals to the prey in all its malevolence. Locks it with a glance, spits a bomb, exhales a torpedo. The prey is surprised, stricken. Ship turns to its safe point, sees drones launched, lingers to see the swarm arrive. Exhales again and takes wing.

Cloaked again, Ship looks at the prey, it is wrapped up in webs and helpless. It soon explodes, as does its ejected pod. The wreck’s drones sit stationary around the gate, useless. Machines, yes, but hopeless cretins. The noise of a bomb reloading into the launcher is great, but unavoidable. But in the midst of it, an idiot crewwoman speaks, when she could have used a datapad or hand signals. She will be punished. I/Ship merge into the silent void of space and warp to the preying point.

“Good bomb and torps on the battleship, Chitin Drone Zero,” comes over the comms. It is one of the swarm.

“Thank you,” I say tersely, a little hostilely, inviting no more comment. It is ruined. I am fully me. I feel pod fluid, and my mind wanders. How much loot from the wreck-my share-one one bomb left-what best punishments- what punishments can I get away with…. It will be minutes or hours before Ship will come again. Only because of a filth-producing primate and his idiotic need to spew empty chat. He will be punished, yes.