Jamundi– Home of the Vain – Six hundred dead – Fire

-Page six

For minutes, I only heard or saw blood and the screams of men and women being torn apart. My morals were being tested in those long moments. These were supporters of the empire, an empire more evil and oppressive than anything in human history. Were these men and women accountable for such crimes? Perhaps not altogether, but they indeed had not raised a hand in protest through fear of execution. They may not have been entirely complicit, but if what Marrin said was true, millions of people have been in rebellions over this stagnate empire’s long life. Maybe they thought fighting back was pointless, but remaining in the empire’s employ to better their family’s life is something else. It matters none, for the rebels are fighting back for something they believe in rather than remaining still.

I initially thought about using my cloak, but decided against it. The room was vast, and this was one of those infuriating rooms with light that appeared to have no source. I also didn’t think anyone would focus on me now with the carnage, but I was wrong as one did. An elderly woman, perhaps in her sixties, was running frantically and screaming as one, then two, then three of her comrades were ripped apart in front of her. We made eye contact; well, I did; she just saw my helmet. Suddenly, she was by my side with determination in her eyes and an ancient-looking plasma gun brandished and firing in all directions. She did not know. How could she? In a flash, her arm was just gone as fountains of blood splattered out, covering me, then disappearing as the bloody strings slicked into the wounds of her enemies. She turned to me, a silent “why” on her lips. Then she was gone as the creatures tore into her old bones. I still remember her face, the wrinkles carving experiences in her long life. Her deep purple eyes filled with pain and… fear. I think her hair was white, but… the blood…

I steeled myself and pushed on.

“Imona, where am I going?”

She didn’t reply, just flashed the yellow line I was now accustomed to. It was leading me to the ship’s engine departments. It was close, but the ship’s Hud user was not on the command deck, he would be there. After seeing Ceartas destroy a ship in a matter of seconds, I feared the commanders would be sending them that way as quickly as they could.

We had three things going for us. Well, two and a half. First, was the element of surprise. The fleet knew something was up, but knew nothing about us. Imona surmised that they would likely come to the conclusion that something had malfunctioned with the bug they transferred onto the ship when teleporting In Ceartas. From what she could gather, no ship had ever survived such an assault, which Ceartas confirmed. The fleet came in expecting nothing more than a malfunctioning bug, and all they needed to do was to tap into the ship and wake everyone up so that her children could finish them. The idea that rebels had taken over the ship and the Butchers had switched sides was outrageous and unheard of.

The second was the specs we now had access to. Each ship could tap into the InterSystems network. It was a data storing and sharing platform across the populated portions of the universes. Whenever a ship entered a sector with a network node, it would send updates and transfer its own data. Privately employed and owned ships couldn’t gather much information, while anything run by the empire would receive specs, designs, updates, and more. Their ships were vastly more powerful than anything else, and if there was a mutiny, they could be destroyed instantly from Palace Planet. The exception were these colony ships. They were an investment and were so rare that the empire would only destroy such vessels if absolutely necessary. The half thing we had going for us was the designs of the ships in the fleet. Imona could see what class of ships they were: one troop transport, two battle cruisers, two frigates, a command cruiser, and a ship transport. Knowing what they were was excellent, but there was a caveat. The last time Perfection was in a network hub was over two hundred years ago, and the designs we had of these ships were likely outdated. According to Marrin, they would change with newer iterations, but unlikely enough to matter, the ships changed over much longer periods of time. That was little consolation to my nerves, as he was not one to be teleported to one of these ships.

The third most important thing was my Hud. Imona, that beautiful creature of chaos, was… just… amazing. The Command Cruisers were called that for a reason. Usually, the smallest but most heavily armed and defended, were the center of power in a typical fleet or armada. The paranoid nature of the empire led to many design quirks over the eons. One of which is that this ship was the most important to protect. If it went down, then the communications systems between the others would fall apart. This forced all the other ships to defend their Command Cruiser before anything else unless ordered otherwise. This might look like a major flaw, a single point of failure in the incredible might of an imperial fleet. But remember that the empire has had no significant opposition in the nearly million years of its existence. There hasn’t been any recorded case of a fleet being destroyed. Once they become obsolete by at least a few thousand years, the empire would auction them off to civilians. It was a brilliant and straightforward system that gave its people no accurate or current information about their designs. Yet, we had Imona, my excellent yet slightly unhinged companion.

“They don’t know that the Butchers are aboard yet.” She told me. “Though the fleet admiral already sent their Hud user to the engine room. But Bas, the admiral, is also a Hud user.” She said grimly. “Class four.”

I nodded inwardly as I ran through the carnage to the far corner, where a small porthole leading to the ship’s underbelly lay. Yes, I was on the Command Cruiser. Through the many others’ protests, Marrin made a final decision. I had to go. Only my Hud could get into their systems and sew such chaos into the others in the fleet. It was difficult enough to explain Imona to Marrin, but more so for him to persuade the others, even after I asked him not to divulge Imona’s existence to them. He complied but told me I could not hide it forever, and he was right about that.

I summoned a gladius in my right hand, slashing at the hinges and tearing off the door. It was a small hole, only designed for limited access when maintenance was required. I had to get on my hands and knees, but once I was inside, I could move through the tunnel better than expected. My increased agility and strength immensely helped, but I was still moving slower than I wished. It took me nearly two minutes just to get through the mayhem to reach the door, let alone the time I needed to move down a deck and sixty yards adjacent. The sixty yards were not the issue; it was that the nearest ladder to take me down was nearly a hundred yards in the opposite direction. So, I crawled on as fast as possible, unaware of the three people who followed me into the tunnel.