The engines are humming, the dull pulsing sound of the fusion reaction chambers firing, giving this beast the energy to power itself. Like the circulatory system of a living creature, the power system runs the length of the ship, carrying fresh energy to a thousand hungry mouths. Shields, life support, the slip stream drive, even the sub light engines all crave power. The hungriest mouths on the ship belong to the cavernous weapons arrays. High intensity beam exotic energy projectors mounted around the ship took all the energy the ship could spare and eagerly drank it down.
The ship itself was a great armored beast, gliding through the darkness, like an ancient leviathan, daring anything to catch its gaze. If only it were that simple, if only this were some primordial hunter, some simple minded predator looking for its next meal. Unfortunately, this great beast carried others to war, and it served ably, raining death from high above, or savaging other ships in the night.
The bridge of the ship was alive with activity. a half dozen weapons stations surrounded the primary control station. Each was crewed by a seasoned veteran who'd proven themselves on countless assaults and boarding actions. Now, they were responsible for clearing the way for others to follow. The central station, an immersive pool made of blackened carbon held the captain firmly, protected by the pool's energy shields and personal life support system.
The captain's eyes drifted over every deck plate and access panel, sweeping deck by deck as the ship reviewed its internal workings. The ship's neural network had taken to this form extremely well, and was performing above expectations since its implantation. The previous network had grown too old and unreliable, so it was time for replacement.
The captain's eyes came to rest in the central cargo bay, where drones were busy working on replacement ammunition and armor from the internal stores. The dead meat from the last engagement were being processed back into their constituent parts so they could be recycled into new soldiers. The captain could see the tiny forms moving back and forth in their gestation tanks, the tiny lives being built from the broken bodies of the old and the dead.
The other pods in the chamber drew the captain's attention. the soft hum of the individual maturation pods resonated at its own frequency. One of the shipwright's had explained it as the easiest way to get the soldier back to its own stasis pod for long flights. The resonance was soothing to the meat body, and the soldier was much more pliable and capable of sleep for longer periods of time that way.
The ship had a compliment of just over 5,000 active soldiers sleeping inside it, with around 1,000 either too old or young to fight anymore. Those that were too old to fight labored on as technicians or engineers, working on equipment and preparing solutions to the problems that availed their younger kin.
The tiny lights along the interior of the command pool were blinking, the ship was alerting the captain to something. The focus shifted away from the cargo bays and to the exterior of the ship. With an almost predatory glee, the ship had located a target, it looked to be a space station, or a base of some kind. Sensors were picking up unusual readings, fluctuations in the energy fields surrounding it. It shuddered, as if struck by something, and the ship's external sensors locked on.
They were under attack by something, sensors were picking up three distinct ships, each one firing mass driven projectiles. Magnetically propelled explosive shells were hitting the station across its dorsal axis, and it looked like they were trying to hit it hard enough to snap its spine. The station's sensors started to scan them, and a moment later, the communications channel flared to life.
"This is the station Fallkirk, to unknown vessel, we have come under attack by hostiles, and we're requesting your assistance. Please, save our station." The deck officer on the station was young, and ugly looking for a biped. Smoke was filling up the command center, and small electrical sparks were crisscrossing the console.
"Our Price is heavy, will you pay it?" The captain said quietly. It wasn't a real voice, but the ship had amplified the captain's thoughts into a mechanical vocalization. The gun crews were all ready coming to life, and the ship's power plants were dialing up for combat.
"Yes, for the love of god, we'll pay your bloody price." The screen flickered and in the next moment, the officer was laying backwards over a console, his body barely moving.
"Unsheathe the blades, ready the men, we're going hunting." The ship rolled into an attack posture, and the targeting arrays for the exotic energy weapons flared to life.
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