---Captain Theophilus Meurius Ashman POV

For the umpteenth time, my hands grip the cold metallic surface of the bench in my cabin. On countless previous attempts, I have tried this simple reality check to steady myself, to reset and failed because something else needed my urgent attention. This time is different, though. The crew members are on task and busy. I don’t have to communicate with GPA headquarters or explain or take orders from them. Therefore, my mind can rest. After taking a deep breath, I collect my thoughts.

First and most essential is to formulate a plan where they need to utilise us. Our deaths must become an inconvenience to them. Optimally, without us, they would need to send others. With the time it gives us, we need a hope against hope. Think of some twist or absurdity to allow us to live a long life and do so back home instead of orbiting this primitive, out-of-the-way planet.

I mull over their last mandate; they have said no to goblins… It makes little sense. The rogue nanorobots are like an infection. Where we find the infection, we must stamp it out. I slump back into my chair. Tiredness always rolls over me after deep space, high-security communications. The channel is a new, almost instant communication technology, yet somehow, afterwards, you feel you have run a marathon to deliver the words.

Cold sweat rolls down the back of my neck. How do I sweat in an environmentally controlled spaceship? Fear.

To defy them would mean certain death. Disobeying orders would make their ultimate decision of my fate and probably my crew simple for them. An easy sell to any who questioned our sudden loss. The opposite of what we need currently. Therefore, our actions cannot cause the death of a goblin.

A knock at my door, and I immediately snap my head towards the source of the interruption.

“Yes,” I snarl.

“You must come at once, Captain.” The pleading in her voice is sickening.

I had, of course, previously shown the crew my human face. The one glowing with worry and concern. At times, confusion. This was the new relatable way. Show your vulnerable side to enable them to sympathise and support you—imperfect command enhanced by contributions from the crew, collaborative nirvana. I used my soft voice with those in charge at GPA Headquarters. Their voices, full of sympathy, still wielded harsh truth.

Almost ripping the door off, my burst of shouting dies in my throat as my Engineer and Navigator Officer slides to the floor, her back resting on the wall opposite my door for support. Audible sobs escape from between her hands, which cover her face.

I take a knee before her and lift her chin with my forefinger. She jumps at my touch, revealing her face, eyes full of tears, red.

“What is wrong?” My voice is deliberately calm. Inside, I wish to scream about how dead we will be soon.

“In a southern valley… Captain, the concentration of nanorobots is such that the instrumentation glowed, pulsated.”

There is a scale to these things, more intense, more nanorobots. How magnified is the scanning array? Grabbing her shoulders, I encourage her to climb to her feet as I stand. Upright, she wraps her arms around me and squeezes.

“It can’t be that bad….” Physical, almost intimate touch. I am confused.

Her head shakes from side to side on my chest. “Ed is running diagnostics. He pushed me out of the seat and yelled at me to fetch you.” Her wide, tear-filled eyes find mine. “Ed has never yelled at me before, Captain.”

“Come on, lead the way.”

---

“I have checked and double-checked. The intensity is accurate,” says Ed for the third time between some other scientific babble.

I wave one hand at him, and with the other, I point to his chair. He takes the hint, and I slide into his crew station. I study the dot, the large round bright dot. Round? For an instant, I think not, then round again. As I stare, the dot stays round for a time now.

“Turn off goblin. We can’t target them, forbidden.” His long silver uniform-covered arm briefly obscures my vision as he reaches for his keyboard.

He whistles while exhaling a breath. I can’t breathe. The dot has shrunk. A slim arm shoots past, and the dot is bigger once again.

“A hobgoblin and goblin are… close?” asks Ed.

“Are they coupling?”

Ed and I shoot Miss Diasha, our Engineer and Navigation Officer, a look. We both open our mouths to say something and then close them to stare at the screen again. I climb out of the chair and usher Ed back to his station.

“Can you improve the resolution or something?” I ask.

He is busy already and doesn’t reply. A small trembling hand pushes into mine, and I pat it still with my other hand. The dot reduces its brightness level yet increases in definition until we can spot two half dots. All were yellow before, but now one is green.

“Cull the hobgoblin—not the entire valley, just the lone hobgoblin. Can you do that?”

His head turns to face mine. “Yes, Captain.” His forehead furrows, which I ignore as I keep my reasons to myself.

Over several heartbeats, the glow dulls, fades, and then blinks out. In a dark recess, a tickle of omnipotent pleasure oozes forth from somewhere in the back of my mind. The blinking green dot of the goblin brings me out of my revelry sooner than I want.

“Why does the goblin remain? Shouldn’t the creature flee after witnessing such a sight?” asks Miss.

“Curious and unexpectant behaviour,” I manage in reply. “The hobgoblin is now dust?”

“Yes, Captain.”

While we could, of course, scan the rest of the valley for other hobgoblins? First, I would like to know if the goblin runs to others, goblins, or hobgoblins for shelter and comfort. Is it joining others full of nanorobots? We might determine if the two, although different species are staunch allies. Provide the GPA Headquarters with more information to contend with. Find a reason to keep us here and, more importantly, alive. We must dismiss no opportunity, make them plan, calculate, and otherwise judge risk as we play the role of valuable servants.

---

A steady knock on my cabin door wakes me. Finally, proof.

---Tinuna, Shifter of the GPA Observer Ship POV

I resist the urge to anger. She hangs on to the short-term view, is all I convince myself. Therefore, I must explain the future her, out to her with simple questioning. She must realise what is at stake and how she can play her part, be the one.

“How did the shifter race come into being?”

She shifts to favour one leg and rolls her eyes—such an attitude, which I dismiss. Bigger picture, I convince myself.

“We drew magic from our homeworld over generations until, on the brink of extinction, some developed the talent to shift. Shifting into the form of our genocidal enemies. Is this a test of some kind because every shifter knows this?”

“I want to plant your spirit into the hobgoblin flesh bag, and you question my wisdom. Given a strong enough will, the planet below generates magic that I or another can manipulate. I am the proof, my control of the Observer Ship, my very existence and, shortly, my control of the Scout Ship.”

She leans back on the slab holding the flesh bag. “This flesh bag or my current shifter body can’t live for five hundred years.” I want to slap the smirk from her lips, but no, that is him, not me. Although, I now understand the satisfaction he gains.

“Didn’t you listen when I spoke of multiple lives once you spirit bind with Lord Klug? You will continue for as long as he does. Called back into existence again and again until your will can master the magic of this planet and transform, relearn how to shift your hobgoblin shape like our ancestors.”

She eyes the body. A hand cups a breast and then examines the tusks. “How does my mastery of magic help our race? I will be but one. Where will you be?”

“I will send other shifter brides to Lord Klug. There will be a point where the magic of this planet is so infusive that children born between shifter couples will beget shifter babes. Our race will regenerate.”

She leans on the slab, this time for support, not sass. I notice her swallow, and so she should. Her future doesn’t simply extend beyond one lifetime. She alone is the salvation of our race over multiple lifetimes and generations.

“Why me?” Her voice is breathy and desperate.

“Fate.”

Her eyes search for me about the lab, panic, desperation. I don’t know, but I don’t have a physical form. Yet. Her search is in vain.

“There would be no guarantee a crew carrying a shifter would have investigated?” she gripes.

“It gets worse.” Her eye twitches. “The release of the GPA’s spirit and his return to GPA headquarters was, in essence, unplanned. I have simply been making the best of the situation. The alternative would have been much slower, using Lord Klug and programming the nanorobots to make the required genetic alterations. Hoping to get lucky.”

Her hands are over her ears, her head shaking from side to side when I finish. “But no shifter in the investigating crew? How would you have dealt with the crew? Plus, a scout has four. What if a frigate or a destroyer investigated?”

I want to release a cackling laugh, but in mind speak, I don’t think I can pull it off, so I simply answer her doubt. “This planet is now well within the safe zone of the spacefaring human empire. They constructed the bigger spaceships closer to the edge of this safe zone so they could launch nearer the action. Scouts are just that. Building them closer to Earth means they must scout their way towards the frontier, check this safe zone, and train the crew. The best of them will transfer to bigger ships, and the failures from the bigger ships will crew the expendable scouts. What I am saying is that the investigating ship was always going to be a scout ship. It was always going to be a crew of four.”

Her laughter cuts me in two. After a moment of reflection, I sense something has changed, which is possible given five hundred years has elapsed.

“You are, in fact, one lucky bitch, my spirit shifter sister, now imprisoned in the systems of this Observer Ship.” Her spelling out of my situation is curious. Is this meant to be hurtful and put me in my place? “The human empire has met a couple of other space empires. Inevitable really, you go further, you find others and not all of them still tied to a single planet ready for you to gain.” She strolls around the slab, her fingers trailing across, I hope, her future body. “The first they encountered two hundred or more years ago, and after scrambling every spaceship in the far-flung fleet, they fought them to a quick standstill. They have a border of sorts now and plenty of space in other directions to explore, which is why neither felt the need to continue to kill the other. The second empire, though, is different. They aren’t explorers and traders. No, they like the taste of human flesh. Humans to them are cattle, awkwardly and somewhat telling they leave us. For now, they raid human planets, snatch the inhabitants, and disappear. More of the bigger spaceships now patrol the quiet parts of the human empire.” She is at the door of the lab. “You see, lucky. Please open the door.”

“Haven’t you heard a word? What of the future you have before you? The restoration of our race means nothing to you?”

“What can I say? I like my current life. To be reborn and look like that!” She waves a hand towards the hobgoblin flesh bag. “Human is bad enough, but it is a comfortable skin after years of practice. I don’t wish to explore another and skulk out an existence in a primitive world waiting for your future. The raiders could just as easily discover this planet and, after discovering the absence of humans, be bitterly disappointed. What do you think they could do next? Destroy the Observer Ship out of spite? Then what becomes of your great destiny for me?”

I don’t understand. She bangs on the door. Her body faces towards the way out. She doesn’t look over her shoulder. Her fist strikes the door again. I open the door. The steady clopping of her retreating footsteps as she hurries to the airlock is beyond disappointing. Then she is gone.

---Linmere, Shifter of the GPA Scout Ship POV

“Good of you to join us, Assessor,” says the Captain.

The Captain and Diasha hover over Ed’s left and right shoulder while he concentrates on the screen at his workstation. Perhaps my look gives me away.

“We are tracking hobgoblins with active nanorobots and turning them to dust. First, though, we need to find out if a certain nanorobot-infested goblin is a source or an anomaly,” says the Captain with an undertone of glee.

The view on Ed’s screen shifts to follow a green dot across one of the countless valleys I know this planet has.

“For a goblin on foot, her pace is remarkable,” mumbles Ed.

“You are certain she doesn’t ride a beast of some sort?” asks the Captain.

“I can’t detect another significant life form, so this is all her.”

Miss Diasha stabs at the screen. “What of these pale-yellow dots?”

“Interesting…” Ed zeroes in on a cluster. “They are pregnancies, is the explanation. The hobgoblin mothers have next to no active nanorobots. The foetus, though, has an abundance, although compared to our first cull in this valley, nothing. Captain?”

“If you culled the foetus, would the nanorobots continue and consume the mother?”

“The opposite, Captain. The womb protects the foetus from direct sunlight. I would need to reprogram the few nanorobots in the hobgoblin mother to destroy the umbilical cord. Without nutrients, the baby would then die of starvation.”

Miss Diasha grabs at the Captain’s arm. When did she become so familiar with him? “No, Captain. Such cruelty. The babes wouldn’t contain enough active nanorobots to register when an adult. We only found them because of the mother and foetus combination. My curiosity. I don’t want to carry their deaths.”

Instead of the Captain, Ed answers. “You are not responsible, Miss. I had already detected them. You were simply the first to point them out. Orders Captain?”

“Reprogram the mother’s nanorobots. The mothers will survive and be able to have other children. They will see these births as miscarriages, no more. Probably blame the father.” He shrugs.

I thought the programming would take longer, but Ed’s fingers flew across the keyboard. He whispered voice commands to the computer to convert his code to machine language and further refinement. Shortly after, the sunlight struck all the mothers. The screen then zoomed across the valley to locate the fleeing green dot. He left future grief behind.

“Captain, the same, but different. Notice the overlay, goblin mothers with hobgoblin foetus.”

“How is that possible?” His breath whistles over his teeth. “Can you cull them?”

Ed is busy until he slams his hand against the console. “The mothers, their nanorobots, are inactive. They must have turned them off because, based on the hobgoblin mothers, the nanorobots needed to be active to impregnate them. I know this because as the foetus grew by cell multiplication, so did the nanorobot count. There is a direct correlation. For these goblin mothers, it is as if the nanorobots were impurities and their bodies dealt with them.”

“Activate the nanorobots?”

“No, Captain. I would think the goblins would detect them and shut them down. We would have to reactivate them again and again.”

“Look!” shouts Miss. We follow her finger. On the extreme edge of the view, a glow, a large cluster. Ed centres the glow on the screen. We all do a count. Three.

“Cull,” orders the Captain.

Several heartbeats tick by. Three equal-strength glows disappear, although at different rates. One instant, one visibly fades, while the third starts slowly and then dies. Three lives lost, without a chance, not knowing how, from far away, or were there more?

“Did anyone notice a fourth? Towards the end, the very end,” I say. Three heads turn to face me. “Maybe I was mistaken.”

Ed taps on his keyboard, and the screen readout plays back, tick by tick. We all see we all take a deep breath. The fourth dot was inexplicably intense because it exposed only a part of its body to sunlight.

“This is the source!” The confidence and slight joyous tone in the Captain’s voice draw our attention. “Don’t you see? This is our survival ticket. We must hunt this source down. As long as it exists, this is now our primary mission. Our existence can’t be terminated while we search, as we will be useful to them.”

I swallow. Have I swapped one prison for another? Alive on this Scout, hunting, who I can only assume is Lord Klug, the one she wished me to couple with. After all, who else would be the source of the nanorobots such that a partial glimpse of him equals or exceeds the glow intensity of one of his companions, who I assume are his spirit-linked wives? A destiny I only recently rejected.

The Captain slaps Ed on his back. “Continue the scanning. I must report this in.” In a heartbeat, the Captain is gone. Ed is busy preparing the data. For whatever reason, Miss is burying her head in her hands, and I am left staring at Ed’s screen. On the top edge are multiple gentle glows. I am about to tap Ed and they fade away before my eyes. I reckon hobgoblins, for sure, are pregnant, given the strength of the glows when compared to the other hobgoblin mothers and are now gone.

Do I mention this? Is this her doing? Has her spirit infiltrated the Scout and taken over command and control? She could also eliminate the hobgoblin species data, if so. Is that what I witnessed? What if she altered the hobgoblin species’ data? Ed would continue to use the data, wouldn’t he? But for how long before the frustration of not finding any hobgoblins with nanorobots would prompt him to look for any hobgoblins?

“What the heck is this?” says Ed. Miss recovers, and with her, I stare at the screen—a glow.

“Look,” says Ed. “Hobgoblin or goblin detection registers neither. Active nanorobot positive, a count through the roof.”

“How can they live outside a body?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“Magic,” quips Ed. His reply doesn’t amuse me like it does Miss.

---Diasha, Engineer, and Navigation Officer POV

We are tired. Not from hard work but from fruitless searching. Linmere and I, additional eyes for Ed as he completed his planetary survey for active nanorobot-inflected hobgoblins. What we found so far were all of them? I was confused, and Ed was unconvinced. Doesn’t an infection spread?

Loud, regular clangs on the metal walkway, a warning. More than the noise of his boots, his confident stride made us ready.

“GPA Headquarters has confirmed our new mission. We must stay in orbit, locate this source, and eliminate them. If we can achieve this using culling, then fine.” He raises his eyebrows. “They also granted us the use of the flesh bags grown in the Observer Ship for planetary missions if culling is not an option. They have transmitted the instructions to the scout ship’s computer. As Engineer, you, Disha, will become an expert on this system.”

In an automatic response, I nod. Linmere, though, seems withdrawn.

“This means, of course, Linmere will, if required, have the honour of being our first to step foot on the planet.”

“What?” she yelps. “I am not a member of your crew.”

The Captain flashes a broad cat got the cream smile. He has this covered. “You are now. Check your personal log. You are to study combat techniques. As Captain, I must remain on the ship. Ed must remain scanning and culling. Miss Diasha, of course, has her extra duty. This leaves you. So, be a team player and start training, you know, just in case. Wouldn’t do to have you die at the hands of a native now, would it?”

All colour leaves her face as she grunts and flees. I sympathise, but Ed and I are the Captain’s original crew, and the Assessor’s skills aren’t required any longer. I am confident the Captain explained this to the GPA Headquarters. Given the years of training an Assessor is required to undertake, they would have found this difficult to accept, but the mission always comes first.

---

A peaceful atmosphere filled the lab inside the Observation Ship—white walls, the white, well, everything. The controls were logical, and after several tests in virtual reality, I felt comfortable and confident enough to grow the real thing. The Scout Ship had completed multiple orbits since I was first assigned my new role, and not once had Linmere entered the Observation Ship. I thought to ask her opinion of how she would want her hobgoblin avatar to look, but fortunately, I found a blueprint on the lab computer with some notes. Well, recommendations really about what hobgoblin males prized in their females. I didn’t think Linmere would want to attract unwanted attention, so I changed the design to reduce those favoured features. It was the least I could do so that none could distract her from her mission.

---Tinuna, Shifter of the GPA Observer Ship POV

Washing the nanorobot blood concentrate over my new body’s green skin was a delight. Better still, bathing in the tubs, naked. The first tub was now simply full of what I would guess to be pure hobgoblin blood, and the second was just about drained of nanorobots.

When Linmere rejected my plan, I knew I needed to trust in myself, my skill, my will, and the planet. The sniff of magic I discovered when I slew Lord Klug needed to be my salvation if I was to thrive and complete my purpose unaided by the Observation Ship. I had planted many nanorobots in the female hobgoblin flesh bag I grew for Linmere. Yet, they were stock standard, human creations, programming set to maintain body health and optimise function. Lord Klug was the key. Only he could activate them, hence my recommendation to her to become his spirit-bound wife.

After accepting I needed to join Lord Klug, the discovery of a concentration of nanorobots became my second aim after landing in the shuttlecraft, which I willed the scout ship to ignore, departure and descent. Hiding the shuttle high in the mountains and inside a cave was my priority. The climb down was tedious, yet I drew on the planet’s magic, food unnecessary, water easily found which the nanorobots converted to sustain this hobgoblin body and, on more than one occasion, repair. The planet’s magic also guided me to the treasure of Lord Klar’s blood. How it came to be here, I didn’t care. Given the out-of-control overgrowth, I doubt the owners would return before I had consumed it. My capture of the scout ship’s command-and-control circuits was timely as I manipulated the sensors and shared in their discovery.

From the first, I registered each nanorobot as it entered my body and as their first mission; they were to convert the original nanorobots to be just like them. The difference between active and non-active nanorobots wasn’t about operational and non-operational. Deep down, active meant, for the skilled practitioner, tapping into the magic of this planet. My will helped me survive the trek down the mountain from a cave that was deliberately challenging to climb or descend. This, though, the absorption of his nanorobots was like an awakening. So much more than the accidental splash of his blood.

I inwardly cackled. Only in my ignorance would I have bequeathed such a boon to another. Knowing what I know now, I am sure if Linmere knew, she would rue her return to civilisation. She would now gladly accept the captivity of this primitive world to realise this unexplored promise of magical power. Shortly, I will introduce myself to Lord Klug, spirit bind with him, absorb his seed, and begin the rebirth of my race.

---Luda, Goblin Concubine of Lord Klar POV

A mountain of female hobgoblin flesh jostles ropes over her shoulders to lower something steadily into a pit. Her boots planted confidently on the lip. When I had asked, they told me Lord Klug and his wives were busy digging a well. I could read their doubt. They considered the effort a waste. We built the fort beside a river. The goblin village controlled one side, the fort the other. How would either lack access to water?

Her rippling shoulder muscles are a finger-width away, yet I hesitate, waiting for the ropes to grow slack, releasing her from her task.

She sighs, and I pounce, wrapping my arms around her waist. She struggles, and as she turns, our eyes meet. Hers shine, and I recognise not Thalgora but Koria Keen Eye in that precious moment. From a distance, I held a suspicion, of course, because we were spirit linked to Lord Klar and Thalgora, never so blessed. A familiar tingle strikes my skin. I act instantly this time and shove my sister with every fibre of my strength into the shade cast by the nearby stockpile of wooden beams. I catch her by surprise, and she only struggles to free herself after I have floored her. Her face twists, and the scream she tries to form dies in a gargle. I suspect internal pain overrides all else.

Someone stacked the wood pile against a cottage. I drag her body inside to protect her from the sunlight. I also reason that if Duzsia turned to dust, water, the resource of nanorobots, would be the cure. Two of Lord Klar’s Scribe stare at me. Their quills fall from their hands.

“Water!” I demand. They exchange looks and flee from the cottage. I quickly find one waterskin and then another. I pour both down Koria’s throat in quick succession. Water that escapes her lips disappears, as does the water splashing over her tongue. A few drops wet her throat. I can only assume her nanorobots are thirsty. A couple of beds, a table, the two chairs where the water skins hung from, nothing else. Nothing else! Should I run to another cottage? Koria’s back arches, her eyes shut tight as she groans in pain.

I bolt from the cottage. My goblin body smashes into one scribe, sending her and the waterskin she carries to the ground. Without apology, I recover the waterskin and rush to my sister. As this waterskin empties, another is quickly in my hand. I lose count, except I realise a torch has been lit by someone in the cottage as night has now fallen. Under this flickering light, my sister’s eyes flutter open. Her mouth is tight, but not from extreme pain, only discomfort.

“How did you know?” she utters between thin, drawn lips.

“I witnessed Duzsia turn to dust. She transformed from sword-wielding artistry slaying goblins without a care in the world to extreme pain and then, in a blink, into a pillar of dust. I felt a tingle, which I didn’t heed at the time, not that I could have, as goblins held me. We slew as a couple at first, then after the tingle, she struck out alone, drawing most of the goblins with her. She knew her death wasn’t far away and took as many with her as she could, and with me now surrounded, she guessed they would take me prisoner instead of killing me. I doubt she knew for certain, but she took that chance instead of suddenly dying, leaving my back unguarded and giving some pissant of a goblin a chance to strike me from behind.”

“Some of my nanorobots weren’t mine anymore. I felt their presence, but they ignored my will. As they consumed me, my loyal nanorobots repaired me.” Her dry eyes look into mine. “The water was my saviour, feeding my nanorobots as the traitors only syphoned off the water in my organs. My loyal nanorobots repaired me, and with my body destruction and repair in balance, any excess nanorobots attacked the traitors, releasing more loyal nanorobots. I felt like a useless general on a hill looking down on a battle which, in truth, I had little influence over. You saved me, sister-wife.”

I kiss her forehead. “I wish I could have saved Duzsia.” She wipes a tear from my eye and, instead of brushing her finger, she drinks in the teardrop.

“I will never waste water again.”

“Who was at the end of the rope?”

A heavy voice answers her question, “Klaria, who is now dust. Izga, who has now lost both of her arms below the elbow, my doing to save the rest of her. She refuses to leave the well while incomplete. All others were out of the sunlight.”

I race into Lord Klar’s arms. He survives, yet the strength of his return embrace is feeble. “Duzsia is dust also, husband.”

“We will need to wait to see if they return to us. I am weary beyond words, not because the nanorobots consumed the water of my flesh, but I also sense they somehow consumed my spirit or at least nibbled at it.”

P.S. If you are not reading this chapter for free on Royal Road or Scribble Hub, then the website you are on has stolen my story.