Derelict 3, Chapter 3.

Chapter 3.

“So, what’s the plan, Slater,” We either need to wait for who knows how long for our nanobots to dig into the station more, or we need to get someone to build us our first drone,” Pixi said.

“We’ve got people right here who might be willing to help us if we help them,” Slater replied.

“You mean the bugs? They’ll probably sell us off or destroy us if they knew what we really were,” Pixi said.

“I don’t think so, these two are kind of like human teenagers, I think they can be persuaded to give us a hand. Besides, we have something to offer them that could really help them and their business,” Slater said.

“What can we offer them that won’t disclose what we really are?” Pixi asked.

“We can offer food, to be specific, I have the entire menu from the food synthesizers inside the Franklin to work with. Don’t forget that I also absorbed a ton of recipes from the gnomes when we took their motherships. I think we can give these guys a new menu that will be a big seller for them. In exchange, they will build us our first drone. We only need one construction drone to get things started, and after that, we can build whatever we want and take the entire station, given enough time. Do you have any idea of the kind of ship we could build with all of these resources?” Slater asked.

“Hmm, I can see the plan working, or backfiring horribly and getting us killed. But hey, what’s life without a little risk. Go for it, boss. The only question is how do we contact the bug kids?” Pixi asked.

“The interface with the food synthesizer has a small data port, but I need to get them to connect a data storage device to transfer the plans over. I’ll start by teasing them with some new recipes,” Slater said.

They waited for morning, Pixi helped Slater organize some of the recipes and use the limited food synthesizer interface to try and communicate. Thankfully, his translation protocols allowed him to understand both the spoken and written forms of the language once he had absorbed enough data. The machine that he was housed in possessed several different interface languages, one of them was Chixturaxi, the language of the Chixturax. When the family arrived in the morning to open the shop, he would be ready.

During the night, Slater’s vision had improved as the nanobot density continued to increase. He could now see the entire shop except for the storage room in back. His reach extended a few feet along the counter, a sad decline from commanding a battlecruiser, but he wasn’t going to let the setback stop him. The family arrived before morning, it appeared the station had a day and night cycle worked into the lighting scheme, though the timeframe looked to be just over twenty-eight hours per day instead of the twenty-four used on earth.

The front gate of the shop opened, Bexlan and Kraxton wandered in and began their daily tasks. Their father Hixrax hadn’t shown, and Slater wasn’t sure where he was off to. If the older Chixturax stayed away for the day, that would be more than fine with him. He felt that his plan had a better chance of success with the younger members of the family. When they approached his food synthesizer, Slater flashed a warning prompt.

“Kraxton, check out the warning prompt, I’ll prepare the ingredients for today,” Bexlan said.

“Sis, you should come look at this,” Kraxton replied as he looked at Slater’s message. Slater noted that the translation protocol had further humanized the pair based on his experience.

Greetings from your newest processor and power supply. My name is Slater, and I would like to help your shop become even better than ever. I can unlock several new dishes that are guaranteed to be a hit. In return, I ask that you have a small device created for me. Can we work out a deal? Feel free to speak, I can hear and understand your response.

“What do you make of it, Bexlan? Do you think the new power supply has an AI built in? I haven’t heard of that before,” Kraxton said.

“Load it up, let’s see if it can do what it does,” Bexlan replied. Kraxton slotted the new supply of food materials into the synthesizer. Slater took a look, seeing the base components of what he had to work with.

“Okay, you in there, make something that we can sell,” Bexlan said. The two watched as Slater created a new dish, it was a human dish called chicken pot pie. A simple meal, but something that would be appealing to several of the races that he had data for. The synthesizer’s internal database was somewhat expansive when it came to racial nutritional requirements, dangers, and preferences. This particular dish should also be one that appealed to the Chixturax and Slater had modified it toward their taste preferences.

“It looks odd, but smells interesting,” Bexlan said, tipping her mandibles into the pie as Slater made a second one for Kraxton. The pair was quiet for a while as they ate their meals, pausing at times to groom themselves in a manner that somehow reminded Slater of a cat.

“That was quite delicious, what else can you make?” Bexlan asked. Slater processed another couple of dishes for a wide variety of races.

I have little data on the station’s demographic makeup. If you tell me the breakdown of your client base, I can tailor my menu to appeal to their needs. If you want to make a deal, download the schematic that you will find.

“Boss, you can talk to them if you want, the machine has a small speaker outlet that’s designed for warning sounds, but I can monkey around with it to allow speech,” Pixi offered.

“Good, let’s do that, I think we’ll get further with this pair if we can speak directly and not just throw text on a display screen.

Bexlan, pulled out her data slate and downloaded the schematic for his construction drone. She looked at it, puzzled, Kraxton looking over her shoulder to see what Slater wanted built. He had tried to simplify the design as much as possible. It would be a very crude approximation of his drones, but it would be enough for him to print up the real deal after some work by the nanobots.

“I think we can make a deal, but let’s do a trial period today. Kraxton can take the design to one of our hive members that tinkers with these types of things. While he does that, you’ll provide me the best food that you can for our customers today. If we see an improvement in our business, I’ll have Kraxton hook up the drone to your data port. Just what do you intend to do with it?” Bexlan said.

“I will use it to upgrade this synthesizer and improve the shop,” Slater said. The pair of Chixturax backed away from him, their insect-like legs skittering on the hard deck.

“How can you speak?” Bexlan said. Slater could tell she was frightened, and he didn’t want to scare them off.

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to startle you, I have interfaced with the audio prompt speaker to make it easier for us to communicate,” Slater said. The pair began to recover from their shock, inching closer to Slater.

“That’s all you intend to do with the drone, help our shop? I find that hard to believe,” Kraxton said.

“I admit, I will use the drone for my own projects outside of work hours. Don’t worry, I don’t plan anything that will be harmful to your business or yourselves,” Slater said. It was a fairly weak argument, but from what he had seen so far, the Chixturax were somewhat gullible.

“Very well, I think we have reached an accord. Kraxton, get over to Ixlab and have him put the drone together while I get the shop open for the day,” Bexlan said.

“Thank you, and you can call me Slater, if you don’t mind,” Slater said, not liking being referred to as a machine. The bugs had no hesitation once a deal had been struck. Bexlan cleaned up the already spotless shop, refilling a myriad of different condiment packets and filling the disposable eating utensil dispensers. The shop had to cater to a wide variety of eating habits, which must have made for a painful inventory ordering process.

“Welcome, what would you like?” Bexlan said to a pair of dwarves that walked into the shop. They looked tired, like they were just coming off a work shift if the dirty coveralls were any indicator. They looked at the menus, ordering a dish that resembled beef stew. Slater did everything he could to maximize the taste, but he was a starship captain, not a chef. The dwarves didn’t complement the food, but they cleaned their plates out and didn’t complain.

A small trickle of customers came in during the day, it was apparent that the shop was surviving, if not thriving. Slater did note that several of the people that had come in earlier in the day, showed up again several hours later. Was that because of the improvement in food quality, or a normal occurrence?

“Boss, here comes the bug with the drone, can’t you feel it?” Pixi asked. Indeed, Slater could finally feel a connection. The link was strange, and not as solid as it had been with his regular units. Just the feel of having a drone was enough to brighten his mood.

Processing power is at 15%.

Drone link established.

Caution: Drone link is unsecure.

That was it, the drone wasn’t one that he created and the interface he was linking to wasn’t entirely stable. Still, it was a start and soon as the coast was clear, he would create more drones. Given his current mental state, controlling more than a few MOBS would be difficult, but Slater would feel much better with some construction drones and a reaper or two for protection.

“Sis, Ixlab finished the drone for us. We owe him 12 credits for the scrap he used to build it,” Kraxton said, sounding disappointed at the cost.

“Do not worry, brother, that is inexpensive for Ixlab’s work. He is treating us well since we are family. Our take today has been much better than average and some of our early customers have even come back for their later meals,” Bexlan said.

“What do you want me to do with this?” Kraxton asked, gesturing toward the drone that he had bundled in a sack.

“Just stick it under the counter until we close tonight. If Slater keeps up his end of the bargain, we’ll connect it to his data port then. Little did they know that Slater already had full control over the little device. The drone was small, only about a quarter of the size of his standard construction drones, but it would perform simple tasks for him. The bug that had made it for him did good work, even though the materials were less than optimal.

His nanobots had continued to expand, adding to their number, and slowly exerting his influence over the whole front counter area. Once the drone was placed near him, Slater had his nanobots go to work on upgrading the drone to the point it could create his actual construction drones. Slater felt like he had reached a tipping point, the threat of starvation had faded, and he was on his way to becoming what he once was. The only trouble now, would be hiding until his power grew enough that the forces on Sarton Station wouldn’t be able to oppose him. For now, he would have to be satisfied with the front counter of a small restaurant and a single, makeshift drone.

“Our expansion is going to slow way down, with you pushing so many of our nanobots into fixing up the drone,” Pixi warned.

“Do we really have a choice? Right now, I can control it, but it can’t print up reinforcements until the nanobots have done their thing,” Slater replied. Everything would have been so much easier if the nanobot numbers hadn’t been depleted to such dangerous levels during his starvation.

“Hey, you owe us, you’re selling a recipe from the Elgenflazzle clan. Pay up or else!” The gnome that had been in the day before demanded, slamming the door as he entered. A pair of scraggly looking gnomes were with him this time and they pulled out knives from inside their belts as one of them closed the shop shutters to prevent any passersby from seeing what they were doing.

Slater had kind of zoned out on the shop, placing most of his focus on upgrading the drone and only turning away to fill an order. Hours had passed and it was now closing time, just what these gnomes had been waiting for. Whether they were truly members of the Elgenflazzle clan, or just common thugs, Slater couldn’t tell. What he could tell was that these gnomes were out for blood and this didn’t look like it was going to end well for the Chixturax kids.

“As I told you yesterday, the recipe was already in the database of the food synthesizer when we installed the new power supply. We have stolen nothing. If you feel that this recipe is yours, contact the manufacturer of the device, not us, we just bought it to run our shop,” Bexlan argued. Despite being much larger than the gnomes and having limbs that looked like they could be used to fight, Bexlan and her brother appeared unable to even grasp the concept of mounting some resistance. Her answers didn’t mollify the gnomes, only serving to anger them more.

“I’m only going to ask this one more time, transfer over all your credits or my boys here will get to work. Both of ‘em hate bugs and will think nothing of squashing you two,” the gnome threatened. Slater couldn’t allow these Chixturax to be killed for something that he did. They may not be human, but he wasn’t one to stand by an see them killed. He activated the drone, ordering it to tear its way out of the bag it was in. While it wasn’t setup for battle, Slater was able to download the combat protocols that he used in his other drones. It didn’t mount any weapons, but the sharpened points of the legs could be as deadly as a dagger. If the sharpened legs weren’t enough, the tools mounted at the front of the spider-like drone were more than dangerous.

“Klabble, check out what that noise was, I think there’s another bug hiding back there.

“Stay away, we will notify law enforcement of your actions,” Bexlan said.

“No, you won’t, this place doesn’t have any security, I checked for it yesterday,” the gnome said.

“Fine, take our money, just leave us be,” Kraxton said, holding up his data slate.

“Oh, I’ll take your money, and I’ll take your life. Nobody crosses the Elgenflazzle and gets away with it,” the gnome said.

“I crossed your clan and got away with it,” Slater said as the gnome sent to check on the noise finally made his way around the counter. The robber took a couple of sharpened legs to the face, the drone’s metal limbs biting deep. A high pitched shriek of pain from the gnome stopped abruptly when the drone’s cutting tools raked across his neck. The tool was designed to cut steel, so gnomish flesh was no problem for it.

“Klabble, no! What is that thing?” The gnome leader asked. Seeing their comrade taken out so easily, the other thug began to back away, trying to keep the mouthy one between him and the drone, which was even now climbing down the counter and clacking its way toward the pair.

“They’ve got security drones Flapple, we’re going to need some firepower to take that thing down,” the other thug said, running to the front door and desperately trying to reopen the gate. Slater wasn’t in the mood for mercy, he ordered the drone to attack Flapple, who ran to the door, pushing and shoving at the other thug. If they had worked together, it would have been easy for them to open the door and leave, but instead, they got in each other’s way, allowing the drone to climb up the leg of the second thug, sharp legs and tools slashing away as it climbed.

The thug tried ineffectively to stab at the drone, though Slater could see a couple of minor warnings pop up as the jostling damaged some of the makeshift components inside of it. Flapple didn’t move to assist the thug and instead, he finished opening the security gate over the door and fled the shop. The drone wasn’t doing too well by the time the last thug fell over from blood loss. It dragged itself back behind the counter with only two of its four legs still functioning. Slater’s nanobots wouldn’t be able to do anything with this much damage. Sure, they could fix it, but it would take weeks with their current numbers.

“What was that? Slater, was that you in control the drone?” Bexlan asked. The pair of Chixturax began to make a soft clicking sound as their legs vibrated. Slater chalked it up to being their version of a human’s reaction after a traumatic event. Instead of shivering they clacked their legs together.

“Yes, that was me, I didn’t want those gnomes to hurt you,” Slater said.

“But how did you control it? We never connected it to your data port?” Kraxton asked.

“I have a few features that you don’t need to know about. We have other problems to deal with now, are either of you hurt?” Slater asked. He knew they weren’t, but he wanted to distract them from asking more questions that he didn’t want to answer.

“What has happened here!” Hixrax shouted, the door to the shop opening startling both the kids and Slater.

“These gnomes, father, they tried to steal our money and hurt us, but Slater used his drone to protect us,” Kraxton said.

“Who are these gnomes, and who is Slater. Do I have to pay some new person protection money now?” Hixrax asked.

“The gnomes were angry we had a recipe they claimed was theirs and Slater is the new power supply you purchased,” Bexlan said.

“Recipe? The synthesizer can only provide what it was programmed, and what’s this about a drone?” Hixrax asked, walking over to the counter. When he looked behind and saw the bloody and battered drone dragging itself, he backed away.

“Psst, hey boss, what are we going to do now?” Pixi whispered. Slater wasn’t sure. His cover was likely blown, and he could handle this a couple of ways. He could try to spin some kind of story, but as gullible as the Chixturax seemed to be, he didn’t know what kind of yarn he could spin that was even remotely believable. His other option was to come clean and hope for the best. It was a horrible plan, but with a single damaged drone, he really couldn’t do much without the help of the Chixturax.

“I’m Slater, the power supply you purchased for the food synthesizer. When your children were attacked, I used the drone to defend them. They seem like good kids and I couldn’t let some gnome thugs hurt them,” Slater said.

“But what are you? You’re no simple power supply or a food synthesizer AI, and just where did you get a battle drone?” Hixrax asked.

“The kids had the drone made for me in exchange for creating new recipes for your shop. As for what I am, I am a Derelict Core, one who has been lost for a very long time,” Slater said. If he still could breathe, he would be holding his breath as he waited for Hixrax’s response.

“Woah, are you a core shard like in the arena? How come you’re not all bonkers and blood thirsty,” Kraxton asked.

“I’m not a shard, I’m a whole core. Once I was a human, the captain of a starship, but I was transformed into a core long ago,” Slater said.

“Kraxton is a bit foolish in his outburst, but the question is valid, how can you be a core? All the cores were destroyed when the council was defeated by the humans. Perhaps you are just a very confused AI with delusions of grandeur. Either way, this is something I must bring to the elders. The hive elders of the hive can decide what you are and what exactly we should do with you,” Hixrax said. Slater wasn’t too happy with more people knowing who he was, but at least Hixrax had run out screaming for station security to kill the Derelict.

“What should we do with that?” Bexlan asked, pointing at the corpses.

“The elders will decide that as well,” Hixrax said.

“I can take care of them for you, just place them behind the counter and by morning, they’ll be gone,” Slater said. His nanobots had no chance of fixing the drone anytime soon, but they could help clean up the mess and turn the gnomes into biomass bricks.

“Do as he says, and get that door closed. I will gather the elders and bring them back here so that we can decide on the proper course of action,” Hixrax said before leaving the shop in a hurry. Slater was kind of shocked he would leave the kids here alone with him, when he could be a potential monster. It could have been that Hixrax realized that he had no way to harm the children with his one and only drone destroyed. Slater had assigned almost human characteristics to the Chixturax, but he had to remind himself they were alien, and their logic may work out different from his, despite what his translator was telling him.