《Ghosts of Ketris (Hounds of Orion Book 2)》


 Chapter 1

    Logan''s heart hammered in his ears as he bolted across the outpost, caring for nothing else but reaching Cameron. His feet pounded on the dusty asteroid floor, his arms pumping hard despite the weight of the A.I. canister clutched in his fist, screaming with a ferocity that cause the blood vessels in the back of his throat to burst and coating his mouth in a bloody, coppery aftertaste.


    "Cameron!" He bellowed, sliding to a stop beside the Headsman''s obliterated torso, feeling the warm combination of oil, transmission fluid, and blood beginning to seep into his pants. He peeked over the slabs of metal that made up the mech''s chassis, getting his head over the mass just in time to see the billowing black fabric belonging to the mystery killer flit off into the distance.


    ''Attempted killer,'' he told himself, believing, or, hoping rather that the kid was going to make it through, as long as head something to say about it.


    With an adrenaline fueled grunt he mantled over the top of the Headsman, and positioned himself on the machine''s upper back, frantically searching for the only glimmer of hope he could think of; The Primary Control Module Casing.


    "Come on...Come on... Agh, where the hell is it!?" He shouted in frustration, before reaching up with one hand and tuning his headset to the frequency of the Fenris.


    "Mayday mayday mayday!" He cried, "Aurora where the fuck are you?!"


    "Logan?!" Aurora''s voice came back, sounding shaky with worry, "What''s going on?!"


    "Where''s the PCM Casing on the Headsman?!"


    "The Headsman?" She repeated, her voice quickly rising in octave and hurry, matching Logans, "W-What''s going on? Where''s Cam-"


    "Stop asking questions and just tell me where the fuck it is!" He barked back, feeling the chassis shift and compress underneath him, a grim reminder that Cameron had little time left before thousands of pounds of hardened steel turned his body into a thin bloody jelly as it compressed itself into storage mode while the kid was still threaded inside of it.


    "B-Back of the skull!" She stuttered back, "B-Behind the hood. Nape of the neck."


    Logan didn''t respond. Instead, he launched himself forward, straddling the hollow steel tube that was the Headsman''s neck, before reaching up gripping the coarse black canvas that formed the hood, concealing the bone white face-plate underneath. Tugging it down and revealing the matte metallic head, Logan eyes immediately fell up a textured iron handle, barely large enough for him to fit his hand through, and covering a circular slot marked ''**PCM CASING**'' in blocky black paint.


    Another compressing shift caused him to tighten his already iron-clad grip on AEIA, and he steeled his resolve, coming to the silent understanding that whatever fallout came from what he was about to do would be worth it as long as Cameron survived.


    "I sure hope this works..." he muttered to himself, before in one smooth motion, he yanked down hard on the handle, watching as air hissed out in a foggy pressurized cloud, along with the ejection of a canister the same length and width as AEIA''s container. Thelma''s container.


    The canister shot out with a forceful ¡®shunk¡¯ and he caught it with his free hand, looking down to confirm the V.I. was truly gone. He got his answer by seeing the frayed and burnt out power coil, one time alight with a warm orange glow, struggling to even make one pathetic spark of life.


    "Sorry Thelma," He said, placing it aside, before inserting the bright white star that was AEIA into the PCM casing.


    "Please let this work," he prayed, slamming the lever up and fully seating the A.I. inside the casing. Instantly, the compressing shifts of the machine trying to enter storage mode ceased, allowing him to breathe a sigh of relief as Cameron seemed to no longer be in danger of being crushed to death. Now all he had to do was wait to see what would happen next.


    And wait he did. For what felt like an eternity, but was likely only a few seconds, he sat back on the Headsman''s neck waiting for something, anything to happen.


    Suddenly, a deep rumbling vibration threatened to shake Logan free from his perch atop the machine''s neck. He slid down the side just in time for the Headsman to clamber at first to its knees, before rising to its full ten meters in height. It moved in a slow, robotic fashion, taking nearly a full minute to finish the process of a standing up, with calculated jerky movements that seemed to take an eternity to finish as opposed to the fluid and natural movements of pilot controlled craft. Once finished, a voice came from the built-in speakers, filling the tense silence of the outside world with the soft melodic tones of an ethereal feminine voice.


    "**Armored Robotic Mechanized Skeleton installation processes complete... Scanning interior for potential defects... Scanning complete. Biological life-form detected in cockpit...**"


    Logan held his breath, crossing his fingers as he waited for the voice to continue its startup processes.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "**Breach detected in cockpit... Blood detected in cockpit... Initiating life support systems processes... Initiating breach containment processes... Unit has entered low-power mode. Awaiting ingress code for nearest docking bay...**"


    Logan stood up, watching as steam began to billow out of the puncture holes made by Cameron''s would-be murderer. Slowly, steel mesh that held the cockpit intact began to heat up, melting around the holes and sealing them from the effect of the outside world. He pondered for a moment of what this might do to the kid''s wounds but figured it couldn''t put him in worse shape than he already was, so with a solitary nod, he looked up, trying to meet the lifeless eyes of the resurrected Headsman.


    "Headsman be advised," He said in as authoritative a voice he could muster, "Reorient and dock at the signal from Captain''s Code 02A98T4... Acknowledge"


    There was an uncomfortable silence that followed his order, save for the gentle clicks and beeps of an internal computer finding a long on the code channel. Finally, the robotic voice of the Headsman responded.


    "Captain''s Code accepted. Thank you, Mr. Rake. Reconvening to coordinates of projected code now."


    Then, without any more fanfare, the massive pile of steel and blood turned and and dropped low, all the boosters on its lower back priming at once. With a gust of wind strong enough to take him off his feet, the mech rocketed away, moving in calculated, jerky arcs as it sought its new destination.


    Logan watched with a sinking apprehension as the mech sped off into the distance, feeling his guts twist and knot as a feeling a dread began to seep into his very being. He swallowed dryly, feeling the harsh sting of his now raw throat as he made his way back to his Crusader, passing by a gaggle of EarthGov shock troops that watched his lone trek, offering nothing but silence and cold indifference. All save for the team leads, Sergeants Kremmel and Mendoza, who made their way over and flanked him on either side.


    "Think he''s going to pull through?" Kremmel mused, gazing towards the Crusader out in the distance.


    "I don''t know," Logan sighed, "I''m still not sure if it actually worked. I mean theoretically yes, a PCM swap can stop a shutdown sequence... but I''ve never heard of one being successful."


    "About that," Mendoza chimed in, his callous, gravely tone causing Logan''s ears to twitch, "The MO was to destroy or capture the AI, not utilize it. Certainly not for a Freespace pilot."


    "Do you plan on trying to detain me?" Logan said, his tone matching that of the Sergeant.


    "I didn''t say that." Mendoza said.


    "I figured you didn''t," Logan shot back with a growl.


    "I''m more concerned with what the hell that unit was that ambushed him," Kremmel said, trying to change the subject, "There''s not many unit types that can utilize active camouflage."


    "How do you know it was active?" Logan asked, turning to Kremmel as they neared the back of the Crusader, which was knelt down and resting on its tower shield. With thick slats of metal bisecting as the back of the cockpit opened for him.


    Kremmel pulled a small handheld device from his pocket and began to tap away at the screen. After a few seconds he swung it back around longways to display a topographical map of the area, complete with grainy images of the outpost they were currently standing in.


    "We were tracking Rail Engine signatures for the local area, trying to make sure we had an accurate figure to give you guys," He said, sliding his finger along the bottom of the screen where a timestamp was located right next to a media player. As his finger drew back on the player and, like a tape was being rewound, a series of bright red dots began to light up one by one, alongside two blue dots moving erratically through them.


    "The two blues are synced to you and Cam''s respectively, while the red is for all hostile signatures," He then slid the bar right to a few minutes prior, when Cameron had been attacked and, to Logan''s surprise, saw only two blue dots. The one coming from Crusader''s engine, and the one from the Headsman.


    "Where''s the enemy unit?" Logan asked, looking up at Kremmel with a raised eyebrow.


    "That''s the thing," Kremmel said, "It never showed up. Even when we were watching Cam get skewered... it never showed up,"


    "So not only is it capable of hiding on a battlefield physically, but from all counterintelligence software as well?"


    Kremmel merely shook his head, shrugging and offering a sympathetic look, "Look man, I''m not expert at this shit. I''m just telling you the info we have. At the end of the day I''m just a fancy grunt. I can do CQC and put people in the dirt, but A.R.M.S. units are out there for me. This is just my best guess."


    Logan nodded, feeling like his mind was racing a mile a minute as he took in everything the Sergeant was telling him. What did this mean for him and the kid? Who was that mystery pilot? Most importantly; Why did this happen?


    A sharp crackle came over the headset, breaking him from his thoughts, as Sybil''s voice came over the line, sounding stressed and manic.


    "Logan!" She cried, "Logan, by the stars come the fuck in!"


    "One second," Logan said, holding up a finger to the soldiers as he stepped away and turned to give himself some privacy as he spoke.


    "Yeah..." he said, "What is-"


    "What the fuck is happening?!" She screamed, cutting him off, "Why is Aurora freaking out over a PCM casing? Why is Headsman coming back here but Crusader is still at the outpost? Why isn''t Cameron responding to my calls? What the hell is going on?"


    "Shit went sideways, Cam got hit, and I had to improvise," Logan said, sounding more hollow and jaded than he intended to.


    "Logan what the fuck do you mean you had to improvise?" Sybil said, sounding like she was speaking through clenched teeth, "What did you do?!"


    "What I had to," He said, feeling the veins in his temple pulse and pound in frustration, "All that''s important right now is that we have a medical droid prepped and ready to go when that cockpit opens. I''m en route now."


    "No," She scolded, "There''s more than just Cameron being injured right now that we need to deal with, we need to-"


    "He''s not just injured you stupid fuck!" He bellowed, cutting her off, "He got hit by a goddamn EMP!"


    Silence greeted him for the longest time, long enough for him to center his anger calm down. She was quiet for so long, that a part of him wanted to signal back and make sure she was still there, but she beat him to the punch.


    "...That''s not possible," she said, "Nearly all projectile or wave based weapon systems in the explosive, ballistic categories are deemed illegal based on the Standards of War act."


    "First of all, that''s bullshit and you know it," He retorted, "Weyland Industries specializes in ranged units and I know EarthGov has a squad of Gunslingers somewhere out there so you can drop that false narrative right now. Hell, we fought a group of Archers on Celephis AND here."


    "I said NEARLY all, smartass," she shot back, "And EMPs are banned outright for being needlessly cruel. This is an execution level war crime. This shouldn''t be possible."


    "Well it fucking is," He said definitively, "I have the dead VI canister to prove it,"


    "You''re absolutely sure?" She asked, tentative in her desire to believe him.


    "I''m not an idiot Sybil. I know what I saw. A wave of energy from a handheld A.R.M.S. weapon system passed through the Headsman. Shortly after, the thing went into its shutdown sequence... with the kid still inside."


    "... Then this is a concerning predicament."


    Turning to wave at the two soldiers before making his way up the ladder to climb into Crusader''s cockpit, Logan had to fight the urge not to cackle at the absurdity of her remark as he felt a wave of fresh rage wash over him. In his mind, all he pictured was the satisfaction of hunting down whoever was stupid enough to do something like this and taking them apart, piece by bloody piece.


    "There''s nothing concerning about it, Sybil," He said, "And this isn''t a predicament. This is war."

 Chapter 2

    Logan wasted no time extricating himself from Crusader''s cockpit, either too numb or too angry to feel the pain of de-sync. The moment his feet hit the metal walkway grating, all he could focus on was the looming visage of the Headsman at the far end of the hangar bay, smoke and steam wrapping around it like a billowy protective haze.


    "Rake? Rake?! Where the fuck are you?!" Alistair Kincaid''s voice cracked out over the open layout of the hangar, echoing harshly off the walls and grating on Logan''s already strained nerves. He growled softly, feeling his fingers close into fists, tightening them to the point of pain as his nails dug into his palm. Stalking down the walkway ramp leading to the ground floor, his eyes locked with Alistair''s from across the room, standing next to Aurora and Sybil under the still steaming Headsman. With a sneer, Kincaid began to march over to meet him halfway, spitting his words with an entitled venom.


    "You have some fucking nerve putting that fucking AI inside your boys mech!" He bellowed, pointing a finger at Logan, "Ten years of research, TRILLIONS of silver, wasted on a fucking sla-"


    Wham


    Alistair didn''t get a chance to finish his remark before Logan''s fist connected with his jaw. Blood and spit flew from his lips as Logan''s right hook impacted with the force of a concrete wall, cracking bone and sending Alistair sprawling to the ground. The man''s eyes fluttered as he fought to remain conscious, resting upper body on shaky arms as he looked at Logan in a stunned silence.


    "Logan!" Aurora shrieked from where she stood by the Headsman, shock and fear etched on her face as she watched him loom over the information broker, "What the hell are you -"


    Wham


    Another blow cracked through the air as Logan delivered another punch to the man''s temple, bouncing his head off of the concrete from the impact. He sputtered and wheezed as Logan straddled his chest, using his knees to pin Alistair''s shoulders flush with the ground. He levied a series of blows into the mans face as he spoke in a low, dangerous tone.


    "Alistair... Today has been an emotional day for me,"


    Wham


    "My co-pilot was attacked, stabbed, and shot with an EMP,"


    Wham


    "On a mission, mind you, that you organized. A mission that we were assured was above board. We expected and only accounted for the enemy as given to us on the intelligence report that YOU provided,"


    Wham


    "And now, after I tried to save my mans life, you come to me and point that fat fucking finger in my face, acting like I should have just let him die,"


    Wham


    Logan stood, yanking Alistair to his feet before wrapping a hand around his throat and pinning him to the wall, choking him as he met Kincaid''s eyes through the swollen bloody mask that now made up his face.


    "Now trust me, I''m pissed at both you and Moore," Logan said, cutting a fierce glare in Sybil''s direction before turning back to Alistair, "But I can''t do anything to her, being an EarthGov official and all. But you... I can beat you to death right here and there ain''t a damn thing anyone could do about it. So watch your fucking tone when you speak to me... understood?"


    His grip tightened on the man''s throat, pressing in hard on his Adam''s Apple and causing Alistair to give out a straining, fearful reply. His eyes bulged and face turned purple as Logan squeezed harder and harder, threatening to choke the life from him.


    "I think he''s gotten the point Logan," Sybil''s voice rang out, sounding irritatingly neutral.


    Coming back to reality, Logan released his grip on Alistair''s throat, causing the broker to drop to the ground in a gasping bloody heap.


    "Fine," He said with a sneer, making his way over to the two women, feeling slightly better at having an outlet for his prior frustration. Coming closer, he saw that both of them seemed to regard him with different airs, with Sybil''s being one of anger and disgust, while Aurora''s was more of fear and anxiousness.


    "Well?" He asked after a few moments of Awkward silence, "What are you doing just standing here? Open it up and get him out."


    "We can''t," Aurora said, her usual bombastic tone of bravado replaced by a mousy murmur.


    "What do you mean you can''t?" Logan said, his voice rising a few levels more than he intended, causing the girl to jump.


    "She means we can''t Logan," Sybil said, snapping back at the man, matching his attitude with one of her own, "The cockpits sealed, we haven''t been able to open it since it got here."


    "Wha-... I don''t... What do you mean it''s sealed?!"


    She sighed before walking over to a nearby workstation and grabbing a datapad. Returning, she pushed the device into his hand, and slid her finger across the screen, scrolling down a long set of diagnostic data before pointing to a highlighted section and reading aloud,


    "A.I. Transference Integration complete. Biological life form detected inside cockpit. Neural bridge creation in progress. Do not attempt to extract pilot from cockpit until bridging process is complete. Failure to heed this warning will result in coma and possibly death for extracted pilot."If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "What the fuck is a neural bridge?" Logan asked, feeling oddly anxious, due to the fact he''d never heard of anything like this before. Sure, he''d heard of A.I. integrated A.R.M.S units before, but this was different. Whether this was due to how the A.I. had been installed, or how far the technology for creating them had come, the thought was slowly dawning on him just how out of his depth he was.


    "It''s a type of sync that happens with an A.I. and a pilot," The raspy, strained voice of Alistair filled the air behind them, answering the question that seemed to stump everyone else. Turning, all eyes fell on Alistair Kincaid who had managed to get to his feet, assisted by Markus whom he leaned on for support.


    ¡°No shit, asshole,¡± Logan said, ¡°Care to share details with the rest of the class?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m working on it,¡± Alistair said, speaking slowly and with considerable effort as he massaged his chin and spat out blood and fragments of teeth. With a low pained groan he centered himself, patting Markus''s hand away and taking a step towards the group.


    "Usually," he began, "A pilot interfaces with the system V.I. at the standard application level. It presents itself to he or she as a miniature humanoid, glowing a certain selected color, and possessing a caricature personality meant to humanize it and allow it to better interact with it''s operators. It''s a basic, easy to repeat process that allows us to mass produce V.I. to thousands of units every year."


    "However?..." Logan asked, leading Alistair where he wanted him to go as he motioned for him to get to the point.


    "However," Alistair continued, "A.I. is different. It''s not just a series of code manufactured to give it a semblance of being. It''s truly sentient. It thinks, it feels, it has freedom of thought and expression. Your boy is no longer piloting his unit solo, but sharing the space with an incorporeal entity. Now, normally this wouldn''t sit right with someone."


    "Why not?" Aurora asked, her tone slowly returning back to it''s usual state.


    "Why indeed..." Logan said, "A.R.M.S. pilots are already subjected to massive amounts of information passing between the unit and themselves via the Neural Uplink. Just how much more are we talking here?"


    "About a thousand times more," Alistair said, causing Logan to whistle and Aurora''s face to twist into one of sheer terror as she looked between him and the Headsman. Even Sybil, stone-faced as she was throughout the entire affair so far, had to fight to keep her jaw from going slack.


    "It''s enough that even a few seconds experiencing the strain can cause seizures, strokes, and eventually death to those who aren''t bridged with the A.I.. Which is another thing; in order to create a device small enough to be slotted into an A.R.M.S unit, there''s only enough processing power to form one bridge per A.I.. Period."


    "Meaning that this A.I. can only work as long as Cam''s the pilot," Aurora said, crossing her arms and glaring at both Sybil and Alistair, "That''s what makes these things so expensive and rare."


    "Pretty much," Kincaid continued, breaking eye contact from the group to look up to where the cockpit of the Headsman would be, "Although... I fear that this bridge is going to all too different from ones in the past."


    "Why?" Logan asked, joining Alistair in his observation on to the metal tomb that contained his friend and comrade, "What makes this any different?"


    "He''s unconscious," Sybil said, speaking up for the first time since Alistair began his informative oration. All eyes fell on her as she looked between the other three, "I-I mean... that''s just my guess anyways."


    "That guess would be correct," Alistair said, "Normally, bridging will occur with a conscious pilot in a controlled space around a menagerie of doctors, mechanics and engineers should anything go wrong. Both consciousness are fighting for space in the pilot''s head and sometimes the end result can get... messy."


    "Oh by the stars, messy how!?" Logan asked, sounding more irritated by the second, "Stop pausing for dramatic effect and just fucking spit it out already!"


    "I''m trying to, you fucking ingrate!" Alistair snapped, "Do you understand how hard it is to explain the process and implementation of A.I. as well as it''s effect on pilot health in a time of crisis?! It''s like trying to describe color to a blind person! I''m doing my best to condense a decades worth of knowledge into digestible material in the span of only a few minutes, for fucks sake!"


    "Well do better," The trio said in unison, bringing forth an exhausted sigh of exasperation from Alistair''s lips.


    "Gah!" He said, running his hands down his face, "Look, point is that that cockpit will remain sealed until the bridge has been made. As to what exactly that means or feels like..."


    He trailed off, his eyes roaming to find the bone white face plate of the Headsman, staring into the soulless blue bulbs, now dormant and foreboding in their absence of light.


    "Only he knows for sure."


    ***


    Cameron felt a strange sensation overtake his body as he came to. Fluttering his eyelids slowly to acclimate himself to his surroundings, he became aware that he was no longer in the place he had been when that strange black unit had attacked him, punching a clawed gauntlet through the back of his cockpit and out through his stomach and leaving him to die in pool of his own blood. Now, he found himself floating in a black sea, speckled with starlight and radiating a chilling cold that seemed to seep into his very soul. His body felt numb and lifeless, merely accepting the free-flowing nature of the environment instead of moving no matter how much he willed it.


    Was he... dead?


    "No... Not yet anyway," A voice, feminine in nature, and soothing to his ears answered a question he hadn''t dared to voice. Starlight twinkled with it''s voice as it spoke again, "But you will be soon."


    He fought to get his mouth to work, to respond to this strange presence, but found it unwilling to cooperate, as if his jaw was wired shut. After several seconds of straining the voice spoke again.


    "That won''t work here I''m afraid," it said, "At least not for the moment. This body is merely a proxy of your real one, something I concocted through my initial scans of you in order to better facilitate a proper introduction. If you want to do something, speak, sit up, et cetera, then you''ll have to manifest it with your thoughts."


    Again, a feeling of calm washed over him as whoever, or whatever was speaking, sounded off once more. Taking it''s instructions to heart, he did as he was told, thinking clearly the questions he had in mind. As he did, he heard his own voice echo throughout the space, accompanied by the twinkling of starlight off in the distance with every syllable.


    "Where am I," he thought, "Who are you?"


    There were a few seconds of silence, before the voice responded, "Where you are is an... interesting question. Let''s just say you are where you last remember to being, just a different part of it."


    If his eyebrows could raise themselves, then they most certainly would have from the surprise of the voice''s statement, "You mean, I''m still inside my Headsman?"


    "Correct," it said, "Physically anyways. Your mind on the other hand is in another space entirely."


    "And where exactly would that be?" He asked, his thoughts even sounding as stressed as felt.


    "This is my home," The voice said, "At least... It was mine. For a long time. Now I suppose... it''s ours."


    Confusion replaced surprise as he took in the voice''s statement. There was a long silence as he processed the information, trying to discern the hidden meaning in its words. After a few minutes of silent contemplation, with the only sound being the gentle symphony of the infinite immaterial, he gave up.


    "I... I don''t understand," his voice rang out, "Our home? What are you talking about?"


    Now it was the voices turn to be silent, leaving Cameron to ruminate on his question as he floated endlessly. The minutes seemed to drag on for him, to the point he feared that he''d offended the ethereal entity.


    "Hello?" He asked, desperation evident in the tone of his thoughts, "Are you still there?"


    "I am," the voice responded, "I''m just thinking of how best to answer those questions. But I''ve just finished fully coming online, giving me greater control of this space. I think... I''ll answer the former which in turn will answer the latter. One moment please."


    Cameron felt his body begin to move against his will. It wasn''t as if he was being forced into a position of discomfort however. Instead, it was almost like it was being gently guided, ushered into a more comfortable area. Slowly, his body descended from the endless sea of starry black onto an island, covered in soft swaying grass and possessing a large oak tree at the crest of a small hill. His float into an upright position and leaned against his base, allowing him to look out and see the endless ocean of stars as far as the eye can see.


    "Comfortable?" The voice asked as his body became still once more.


    "Yes," He thought, "I think so anyways."


    "Good..." It said, "Now, to answer you, with a more... personal introduction."


    There was a bright flash of light and Cameron''s eyes squeezed shut as vision swam with splotches behind his eyelids, cursing mentally and wishing for some sort of warning.


    Then he heard a giggle, a cute innocuous noise that seemed to come not from the infinite void, but from directly in front of him. He blinked the splotches away and was greeted with a sight that confused him even more than when he''d first woken up. Before him, a woman stood, barefoot and caramel skinned, draped in a flowing white sundress. Long black curls fell in front of her voice, bringing her bright, neon blue eyes in full focus as she smiled prettily with a mouth of bright white teeth.


    "My names Aeia... It''s nice to meet you Cam."

 Chapter 3

    "Aeia?!" Cameron said aloud, his mouth working normally once again. That fact was the least of his concerns, however, "As in the A.I. AEIA?!"


    She nodded, giggling with amusement, "The very same."


    "Wha- I mean... But..." He sputtered, quickly rising to his feet as the feeling of his extremities returned to him, "... What?!"


    "You seemed surprised," She said, "Why is that?"


    "Why are you here?" He exclaimed, "Why do you," he motioned to her body, "look like that?! Where''s Thelma?! What the fuck is going on?!"


    Her face fell at this line of questioning. Her eyes turned downcast as she chewed on her lip, giving the impression of sympathy and nervousness.


    "What?" He asked, her sudden reaction giving pause to his rant.


    She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his own, "I''m sorry to tell you, but your V.I. is gone."


    "Gone? What do you mean gone?"


    "As in, ceasing to exist," She said, "Judging by the damage report of your Headsman, I assume you were hit by an Electromagnetic Pulse. She would have perished in the aftermath, her code completely erased by the blast, as designed."


    The memories came flooding back to Cameron then. The moments following his deadly mistake that resulted in a series of blades punching through his back. He remembered everything. The shudder of the earth as his Headsman collapsed to the ground. The frantic attempts of Thelma in order to administer aid and care to her fallen pilot. Then the digitized scream as a wave of energy passed through him and everything faded to black.


    He winced in disgust and sadness, falling back against the tree as he held his head in his hands.


    "She... She''s gone," He said softly, barely above a whisper, "And it''s all my fault."


    "No it''s not," Aeia said, "Please don''t say that."


    "I..." He began, struggling to find the words, "I know that I didn''t work with her long, and that she wasn''t exactly... real." He sniffled slightly, "But... she was real to me, y''know?"


    Cameron felt a hand rest gently on his shoulder, a symbol of reassurance from Aeia as a rustling sound let him know she had sat down beside him. Slowly he raised his head, meeting her eyes. She smiled softly, looking sympathetic in her attempts to comfort him.


    "I know what you mean," she said, sighing as she adjusted herself, giving him some space, "Unfortunately, casualties don''t always stop at flesh and blood."


    He nodded, casting his gaze down, wiping the mist that began to form in his eyes. He sighed and shook his head to clear it, managing to speak in a tone that wasn''t full of loss or pain.


    "So," He said with a sniffle, "I guess you''re my new partner eh?"


    "If you want me to be," She said, giving Cameron pause as he looked up, confusion inching it''s way across his face.


    "What do you mean?" He asked, "You''re in the Headsman aren''t you? You have to be or I wouldn''t be here... wherever this is."


    "Like I said," She said, "I can be your partner. If you want me to be. My programming is different than that of a Virtual Intelligence. More advanced and refined and as such, certain...processes must be agreed on. It''s what your scientists would refer to as a Neural Bridge."


    "What exactly does a Neural Bridge entail?"


    She crinkled her nose and sat cross legged in front of him, looking every which way as if trying to find the right way to phrase her explanation.


    "Hmm," she mused, "Think of it kind of like a contract. We lay out the terms and conditions, highlight the benefits of our mutual cooperation as well as the drawbacks, and, should everything seem acceptable to both parties, we make an agreement."


    Cameron cocked an eyebrow, drawing back and feeling the rough wood of the tree dig into his back as he took in her explanation.


    "Oooooooookay," He said skeptically, "So what exactly are the terms and conditions?"


    "First things first," She began, "You need to keep something in mind. I''m not merely a series of diagnostic code that has a personality matrix layered over it meant for mass production. I''m a uniqu


    and bespoke creation, meaning there has not and will not be any A.I. or V.I. in the universe that shares anything more than two percent of my baseline configuration."


    "So you''re saying you''re not like the other girls?" Cameron quipped with a wry grin, causing Aeia to mimic the same.


    "Exactly," She said with a chuckle, "Plus, I''m a one pilot gal. Should you agree, you''re stuck with me. Till death do us part so to speak."


    "I''m not sure I''m ready for that kind of commitment."


    "Oh?" She asked, raising an eyebrow, "But you haven''t even heard what I bring to the table."


    "Is it safe the assume you''d fulfill the same duties as Thelma did? Keeping the mech running, battlefield diagnostics, three hundred and sixty degree vision, and all that jazz?"


    She nodded, "While yes, I can do that, and trust me, I will, there''s much more to me than just a fancy engine and camera system..."


    "Like what?" He asked, "What else can you do?"


    "Well for starters," She said, ¡°I possess an encyclopedic knowledge of all facets regarding A.R.M.S. units and piloting standards. So in the middle of a fight, I can identify the type of unit you''re fighting, its strengths and weaknesses as well as those of the person piloting it and help you find an opening to get in and strike."


    "Well that certainly seems helpful," He said, nodding at her revelation.


    "I like to think so at least," She said, sounding excited and enthusiastic to share more about her abilities.


    "On top of that," she continued, "I can analyze your fight patterns and piloting skill and adjust the output of power to different sections at will."


    "How exactly does that give me an advantage?" He asked, "Like I understand it can help but I''m not really grasping the concept of how it helps me?"


    "So for example, let''s say you''re fighting a defender variant," She explained, "Something sturdy, shielded, and heavily armored. Like an immortal, or blacksmith."


    "Alright," He said, "I''m with you so far."


    She nodded, "Alright, so say you''re in the middle of a fight and you''re trying to cut your way through their armor, but you can''t,"


    "I''ve never had that problem," he said, smirking, "Both my Agility and Output are tens. I haven''t met a mech yet that I can''t carve through or outpace."


    "Says the pilot that got outpaced and carved through," She said, snorting sarcastically.


    "Ouch!" He exclaimed, clutching imaginary pearls, "I''ll have you know I was stabbed, not carved!"


    "My apologies," She said with a chuckle, waving off his statement, "In any case, that''s only because you''re at the rank you are. As you rise higher, so will the competition. Eventually, you''re going to come into contact with pilots that possess units just as strong as your Headsman, but in their own way. Plasma shielding to deflect all attacks until they''re broken, electric smoke flares to stun and disorient you, dimensional blades to cut tears into reality and jump out the other side right behind you. Any of these as well as a litany of other countermeasures are just the beginning of what you''re going to find at the upper ranks. Not to mention the fact that the pilots are no slouches either. I''ve read your combat record Cam and I''ll be honest... you have a natural talent for this."


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    "Oh stop, I''m not that awesome." he said with a chuckle.


    "But talent will only get you so far," She said, her once cheerful tone giving way to one that was sober and devoid of any optimism, "And you know that first hand."


    Cameron''s laughter died down in an instant, his easy-going smile that had started to show since becoming comfortable talking with the A.I. once again disappearing off his face as he looked her hard in her eyes, silent as she continued to speak.


    "You''re quickly approaching an echelon of A.R.M.S. piloting where you are no longer the dominant force on a battlefield. Soon you''ll be just another fighter, vying for victory and survival at a level where everyone is just as talented as you are. What then? Sure you can probably hold your own in the Gamma ranks, perhaps you''d even be the pinnacle of the tier as a Primus. But reaching anything beyond that is almost non-existent if you continue to fight the way you are now."


    "And how''s that?" He asked, sounding more defensive than he wanted to, "Exactly how do I fight?"


    Her eyes met his, and even artificial as they were, Cameron felt the heat of truth coming off of them as she spoke.


    "Like you''re not afraid to die."


    "So what?" He said, "What''s wrong with fighting like that?"


    "Because it''s a lie," She said softly, "You''re terrified of it."


    Cameron chuckled derisively, "Oh no, we are not doing this. I''m not about to be psychoanalyzed by my mech''s onboard assistant."


    "Okay, first of all," she said, cocking an eyebrow, "That''s hurtful. Even if you don''t mean that. Just because I don''t have a body doesn''t mean I don''t have feelings. And second of all, you can deny it all you want but it''s true."


    "And how do you know it''s true?" He shot back.


    "Because you''d be an idiot if you weren''t," she retorted, "And I don''t think you''re an idiot."


    He opened his mouth to respond, trying to think of a witty response to her statement, "I....We-...." He sputtered, "You can''t just.... whatever." He finished, crossing his arms in huff, causing another giggle to leave her lips.


    "It''s not a bad thing!" She said, smiling genuinely, "To fight like that I mean. It''s only human, and something that was further enabled by the unit you''re piloting. And look at what happened, up till now it''s worked for you. But it''ll eventually come to a point where it doesn''t work and that''s where I can help you, Cam. I can help refine your abilites. I can help turn that momentum powered fighting style into something as equally beautiful as it is deadly. You just need to let me do that."


    "And what exactly do you get out of this?" He asked, "All we''ve done is talk about what you can offer me, and if there''s one thing I''ve learned since being in this business, it''s that nothing comes free. Why do you want to work with me so badly?"


    "Truthfully?" She said, looking at him as if this was really something he wanted to know. Sighing, she gave him the answer he was looking for, "I don''t know. I can run calculations all day but there''s just something about being inside this thing that feels... right. It feels like I should be here. As an A.I. I can''t believe in luck or fate. It''s illogical. But for some reason that is either not written in my programming, or hidden somewhere within my code, I know that I belong inside of this mech."


    "You do realize the only reason you''re here is because I was shit at avoiding an attack, right?" He said with a smirk, "I mean I''m shit at math but it seems to me like the probability of this happening is pretty fucking low."


    "And yet here we are," She said with a shrug, "That one iteration that played out like it did and brought us in contact with one another. And you''re going to turn that down, just because the computer


    being me, likes the mech she¡¯s in?"


    "I didn''t say that,"


    "No, but you implied it," She said, standing up and reaching out a hand to pull Cameron to his feet as she spoke, "Do you know what the difference is between a Sigma class and an Omega?"


    "The number of corpses they''ve made?"


    "A.I." She said slowly, enunciating every letter clearly, "Every, and I do mean every Omega class pilot has an A.I. riding shotgun. I''m more than just a replacement copilot. I''m your ticket to being one of the most powerful people in the whole galaxy. And I don''t think I''m asking for much in return. Just to have the ability to reside and operate in a space that feels like I was built specifically to be inside of."


    When she''d finally finished speaking, Cameron was left in an intrigued silence, contemplating all of the information Aeia had just dropped into his brain. Could he even reach Omega Class? He was fairly certain he shouldn''t be alive right now, and still unsure on if he actually was. Even if he did make it out of this dreamlike state, he had to come to terms with the fact that he hadn''t just been defeated in combat, he''d been embarrassed. He had a long way to go before the concept of even seeing Gamma Class would be more than a hazy, half-baked dream.


    "You think I can be an Omega class pilot?" He asked, chewing at his bottom lip in anticipation of her answer.


    "As you are right now, no," She said flatly. He felt a sinking feeling beginning to form in the pit of his stomach and lowered his head, dejected but appreciative of her honesty, no matter how brutal it may be. As he did so, however, he felt the calming warmth of a hand on his shoulder, pushing lightly in an attempt to gain his attention. He looked up, his eyes catching hers as she gave him a look of determination and promise.


    "But you can be."


    He nodded, chewing at his lip for a few more minutes before finally making up his mind.


    "Then let''s do it," He said, slowly putting a hand out for her to take, "Partners?"


    She smiled wide, her eyes shining with a bright neon blue glow as she firmly grasped his hand with her own, "Partners."


    A strange feeling overtook him in the morning, one of warmth and confidence that flooded his veins and filled him with a euphoric optimism that made him think he could take on the whole of the galaxy by himself. As this was happening, a small ball of blue light began to take form directly above their interlocked hands. Cameron''s eyes went wide with wonder as the ball grew in size and brightness, beginning to pulse and hum in a high-pitched rapid rhythm.


    "W-What the hell is going on?!" He exclaimed, attempting to pull his hand away from Aeia''s grasp. To his horror, his hand stayed locked with hers, unyielding as if stuck in a vice.


    "Don''t worry!" She called back, having to shout over the sound of the glowing ball, "It''s just the formation of the Neural Bridge!"


    "Why is it so fucking dramatic?!" He yelled, shielding his eyes with his free hand as the glow was near blinding now, "What do I do Aeia?!"


    "That''s easy!" She said, nearly drowned out by the high-pitched whirring. It continued to grow in pitch and brightness, nearly to the point of painfulness, and then, just when he thought his ears might bleed, the ball reached its peak, before exploding outward. Light shined through his hand, piercing his eyes with the fury of the sun. Wind whipped past his body, causing him at first to shift, then to stagger, then scream as he was thrust off his feet and hurled through the open air, now blind, deaf, and at the mercy of the wind all while Aeia''s voice echoed softly inside of his head.


    "Wake up."