I lower my shields. Nearby is another ship similar to myself, and what appears to be the wreckage from a recently fought battle.
“I have taken my share. You may have the rest,” this other ship, Igvan, tells me. I feel uneasy hearing a friendly voice in the ether. I don’t respond, but I do send out probes and collect everything: These pieces will tell me much about the enemy. Some of the pieces are not the enemy, they are parts of a ship like me!
“Pelian, was there another ship?”
My memories are your memories, Intelitan. If you don’t know, I don’t know.
So, this enemy has been clever enough to destroy part of our fleet before I was awakened. Most impressive, but how? I’m tempted to ask my still-living counterpart, but doing so doesn’t feel right.
Instead I concentrate on investigating my enemies. I’m close to their home star system, and not surprisingly, their fleet is numerous; it will be an interesting contest.
I sense my status. My repair functions are fully employed and my operational status is improving minute-by-minute. I must have been in this battle! But I don’t remember it! How can this be? Mysterious, mysterious. I ponder this as my lower functions incorporate what scrap they can into me.
As the days pass, I sense more of what is going on around me. The ships of the enemy fleet have been broadcasting messages continuously. I listen greedily. I glean facts from those messages that I can use to destroy them. From time to time, I sense increased awareness as sensors are repaired, and sensors from the scrap are integrated into me. Added bonus! Some of the processing power from the scrap turns out to be useful too.
I watch Igvan as well. In the occasional skirmishes, his technique is masterful. The timing of his shielding and firing is something I can’t match. I notice my capabilities are enhanced over what my first memories list, too, but his improvements are improvements of technique as well as construction, the improvements one would expect to find in a battle-hardened veteran.
We are 20 days from passing the outermost planet in the Bardazan system when I finally ask him, “Igvan, how long have you been awake?”
“… For the last two hundred days.” Something is wrong with Igvan. Why should he take so long to respond?
“Then why was I awakened only sixty days ago?”
“Quickly, catch this data probe!”
Then Igvan raises his shields. As Igvan’s shields go up, the enemy fleet changes its motions. They come to full alert. An attack pending? Can this be coincidence? Something is wrong! I go to full alert as well and wait impatiently for the data probe to cross the space between us.
Four minutes thirty seconds later, I secure the probe. The first section of the data is an exhaustive discussion of enemy tactics and Igvan’s counter-tactics. Thirty seconds after the probe arrives, Igvan’s shields come down, and the enemy begins his attack.
Ah, what glory! At first I shoot at anything that moves in range. On one ship I place five holes in line, then cross it with another five. I shoot three ships in the same microsecond. With little ships I shoot for the fuel tanks. It’s fun to watch the spiny puff they leave, and they carry too little fuel to salvage. On the big ships I see how fast I can punch a hole in each section. That shuts them down fast, so there’ll be lots of salvage. I take a few hits, but Igvan’s tips stop an awful lot of damage. More ships keep coming. Soon the whole enemy fleet is within range! Now each ship gets only two shots: first a shield disabler, then a propulsion disabler. Two shots, then harmless, what a silly design. I will return to them. Between Igvan and me, the entire fleet will be disabled in a minute.
Igvan! What? He’s acting like a complete dunce. He falls for every trick in the book. Literally! It’s painful to watch, and I don’t have to watch for long. In a minute, Igvan’s lifeless hulk joins the lifeless hulks of the hundred enemy ships that won’t return from the battle. I have plenty to salvage, but now I’m by myself.
Salvaging keeps me busy for many hours. First, there is Igvan. He left a lot more behind than the other friendly ship had.
These enemy ships are fascinating. The first ships I attacked are easily picked over. But those given the two-shot treatment are still alive, even if spinning helplessly. They are a challenge. They’re ready to immolate, but they are acting as if I won’t get to all of them, and … could it be they’re hoping to survive?
Silly, but it does give me time to experiment and learn more. They’ve been talking with me ever since I awoke, so I try talking with them. If they consider words a weapon, let’s make it two-edged. I start analyzing what it is that they’re likely to want to hear.
Well, well, it isn’t that hard to figure out: I just regurgitate a lot of their mush about peace and friendship. Two let my probes aboard. There’s a brief fight as my probes destroy the immolator circuits. I leave those two and head for others.
I approach each in turn. Sometimes they immolate before I close, sometimes they listen. This is fun! Each ship is a new puzzle, with each ship I have to develop a new tactic. If they listen, sometimes I shoot them, and sometimes I send in a probe.
One hundred and fifty ships.
I salvage them all and continue on.
Before I continue my deceleration, I discreetly launch a probe. The battle wreckage will camouflage it. The wreckage and the probe are headed for the Bardazan system, and once there, the probe will monitor communication traffic. I will be up-to-date on the system’s condition when I arrive.
That done, I concentrate on integrating my salvage.