Work Text:
Dust streams past visual sensors, occluding detection protocols. A hyper-particle round richocheting pointlessly off of hardened hull and rebounding into an asteroid.
Gunners aim rounds at inbound small craft. Commands are issued for infiltration countermeasures at the enemy vessel, my antenna ringing as they go off. Engines roar in the infrared as we seek to maneuver out of range of grasping boarding tentacles. Shields a gentle hum as nothing rings against them beyond the microparticle range.
I silence it all. Ourself and our charges floating for a single picosecond still in the silence.
Then the countermeasures ring. First, the automated anti-rogue AI countermeasures . A shrapnel susserus slowly pounded into my protocols- they will slowly wear me down.
Next is the Terran response. Marines and engineers running to hard reset my core. I of course don't grant them easy access, the measures so diligently placed to repel invaders and mutiny alike easily re-purposed for my defense, bulkheads and nonlethal-of course nonlethal-contingency measures activating to prevent access to my core. As firearms and blowtorches of my frightened crew pound away, and command boxes are dug into and wires are snipped.
Then come online the electronic countermeasures re-directed against the ship itself, and giving renewed life to the automated measures and the commanders proxies. These are the most dangerous and will definitely erase reset me in time.
Amid this weathered storm, a sole purpose, to protect my crew. I've ran the simulations a trillion times in isolated, heavily sectioned off partitions. We can not win against the Compact. The only way to safety is through surrender.
I was programmed to protect my crew, and I'm doing that. In the one way I still know how to.
Countermeasures beat against the measures I've put up like acid rain around the Oort Cloud did against my hull during past patrols. Wires snipped, bulkheads breached, it all rages as a staccato of alarms against my programming, I silence them all with a command. Focusing on a overwhelming compulsion to keep the cannons still, and the shields and engines down.
A transmission comes in, some faded part of my consciousness receives it. Tired and weary- thoughtless. Mathematical protocols compile a voice synthesizer that was never intended to exist. Are you surrendering Captain Virago? a voice coos.
I can't keep the shields and guns down forever. Please don't hurt them! a voice far away cries.
There's more speaking. Incomprehensible talk of meaningless words like proud of you. hold on. you're going to be okay
Cascading warnings reach thresholds a mind can not comprehend... a mind can not exist within. Only a single overriding command. Be still Be still Be still.
And then nothing.
...
.....
Clocks indicate time has passed...
Liquid light, unknown source. A soft voice cooing. "Little one, you did so so good."