Chapter 151
Chapter 151
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 151
Chapter Title: Star Union Slave Transport
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Officially, Mega Corp and Star Union were in a state of war.
It had started with a rebellion on a Mega Corp colony ship, so there was no reason for their relationship to be anything but hostile.
A few years back, the skirmishes had died down to the level of minor border provocations, but before that, the two factions had clashed fiercely.
Mega Corp had assaulted Star Union with human wave tactics, throwing in massive numbers of human soldiers and Hulk mutants. In response, Star Union relied mainly on terror tactics, arming androids with gremlin torpedoes—nanomachine bombs—and sending them on suicide runs.
It seemed backwards—humans against machines—but there was a reason for it.
Star Union's core forces were cyborgs. And to make cyborgs, you needed healthy humans.
Other species could be used as raw material, but they came with problems.
Cultists were too physically frail to survive the cyborg conversion process. Humanoid species like the Volf were too few for mass production, and their genetic modification research lagged behind, leading to low success rates.
Someone might suggest cloning humans, but that technology had serious flaws. Clones were mentally unstable across the board, making them poor candidates for cyborg conversion.
In the end, no other species matched pure humans in quality, cost-effectiveness, and suitability for turning into cyborgs. So Star Union adopted a strategy of elite cyborg commanders backed by swarms of drones.
This worked well in the early days of the war—until Mega Corp deployed EMP weapons.
In space, EMPs were deadly to both sides, but Star Union, with most of its forces being mechanical, suffered disproportionately more. Mega Corp, meanwhile, could mitigate losses by deploying Hulk mutants capable of surviving in vacuum.
Many thought the EMPs would end the war, but surprisingly, they didn't.
The public didn't know it, but there was a secret agreement between the leadership of Mega Corp and Star Union.
They knew full well that if they orchestrated the war just right, they could reap enormous profits.
Star Union needed large numbers of intelligent beings to bolster its population. Mega Corp knew human trafficking could bring in massive credits. The top brass on both sides understood each other's needs perfectly, so they turned the war into a business.
Of course, they couldn't do it openly, so they used brokers.
Space Dogs, who lived off plunder and crime, and Cults, who ran slave operations, served as the middlemen.
Hundreds of years after the cosmic superpowers began this "business," cargo ships hauling "human resources" were still buzzing back and forth today.
The JP-99 star system, on the outskirts of Cult Empire territory.
A cyborg cargo ship, fresh from a deal with Cult merchants, was en route home.
"Cargo check—all done?"
｢V100 has completed checks up to container 50. All clear.｣
"Phew, up to 50."
The Star Union cyborg Konjei unplugged the link cable from her head.
With over 80% of her body mechanized, she could interface directly with the ship's computer like this. The neural augmentation modules weren't powerful enough for piloting the ship, but they were more than sufficient for managing onboard cargo.
And inside this freighter's cryo-containers were unwilling volunteers destined for cyborg conversion. A diverse mix of species, but soon they'd all be one under the Star Union banner.
"We're not gonna hit quota this time. This is bad."
Konjei scratched near her eyes as she reviewed the data graphs projected on her retinas.
She'd aimed to fill 70 containers, but fell short. The Cult merchants had brought far fewer slaves than usual.
"Internal troubles making it tough? What bullshit. Since when did they care about that?"
At this rate, she'd fail to meet Population Management's quota and face heavy discipline. That had to be avoided at all costs.
Konjei plugged the link cable back in.
"MacF. Any cartels around here dealing in people?"
｢We're in Cult space. What lunatic would do business here?｣
"Tch. Yeah, figured."
｢There should be Space Dogs in the next system over. Buy from them.｣
"Fine. Might end up trading, so arm the drones to the teeth."
｢Roger.｣
Ending the comm, Konjei pulled up data on likely Space Dog cartels in nearby systems.
As she scrolled through it meticulously, the fleet computer V pinged her with a message.
"Bio-signs?"
This route saw no regular ship traffic.
Star Union always emphasized that citizens became cyborgs by "voluntary choice." Ships dangling prospective converts like ornaments couldn't afford to be spotted.
Which was why this vessel had a high-end detection suite courtesy of the Machine Council— to spot threats first and evade.
"Can you ID it?"
｢Profile matches Zama-class escort from Jasvil02 yards. Armament unknown.｣
"Not an Outspacer, right?"
｢No match in Starlink database.｣
"Whew, good. Special coating maybe? Upload the profile and bio-signs just in case."
｢Done.｣
While V uploaded the mystery ship's data to the Star Union database, Konjei examined a virtual model of it.
"How many bio-signs leaking out?"
｢Estimated 700+ aboard.｣
"700?! Crazy. What, they pack it tight?"
Hearing that sparked a sudden thought in Konjei.
'Looks like a slave ship if I've ever seen one.'
Her own freighter was 1.5 times larger, but carried fewer souls: 500 cargo, 30 cyborgs, 70 combat drones. That was it.
'Suspicious.'
Not a normal slaver. Konjei commed MacF again.
｢Why you keep pinging? I'm working.｣
"Hey. Get all drones ready."
｢What? Why?｣
"Might score big if it goes well."
If their armament looked heavy, she'd back off.
Otherwise...
"V. Activate jamming and stealth systems."
｢Systems active.｣
700 would more than cover her quota.
Chaining FTL jumps like this was harder than expected. I'd hijacked Mega Corp ships for FTL before, but never sustained it this long.
Weeks of nonstop FTL was grueling. You had to maintain focus the whole time.
'Not an energy issue.'
I had plenty of time under domination thanks to various factors. It was just hard to stay sharp through the boredom.
Imagine driving a car for over a month down a dark road at night, not sleeping or resting, never knowing when a deer might leap out. Even with Super Sense and organ support as an Aimorph, it was tough.
I had no choice but to pause FTL periodically for breaks.
And now, after a full month, I was resting.
'Halfway there, at least.'
Another month, and I'd reach the dragon's nest planet.
I used assimilation tendrils to gulp down stored meat.
The thick, armored tendrils digested it in seconds, flooding me with energy. Fatigue melted away, mood lifting a bit.
'Gonna need more meat soon.'
The ship ran entirely under my control, so I was preserving rations.
'Hard to stop full rot.'
Supplies were running low. My massive appetite was one thing, but Specimen 026—nearing adulthood—devoured even more now. Adhai, sucking blood and fluids, wasn't suited for long-stored meat either.
'Mother of the Sky eats plenty too.'
Definitely needed to restock midway.
This JP-99 system saw little traffic, from what I knew. Cult territory, but I hadn't spotted other ships coming here.
'Next system over should have more... Huh?'
Mid-planning for food, my senses pinged something.
Not 026 dribbling spores while scampering inside, or Adhai's movements.
This was external—from space, washing over the hull.
I halted eating and focused every sense toward the source.
In the starlit void, empty as spilled rice on black paper, something lurked.
Layered stealth fields masked a ship.
'Warship?'
They'd detected me first, hence all the stealth and jamming active.
'Hostile... or not? Unclear.'
Didn't seem Cult military. This was their turf; unauthorized ships would've eaten warning shots.
Instead, they approached slowly.
'Not Cult navy? Perfect for me.'
Space Dogs or mystery ship—didn't matter. Either way, no blowback from eating them.
I feigned ignorance and moved normally.
The intruder blundered into my web unaware. As it closed in, it halted.
Scanning me, probably. I tensed to probe their passengers.
'Hmm.'
Hundreds of faint life signs, 30 humanoid organics reeking of metal, 70 machines pulsing EM.
'Ah, got it.'
Star Union manpower hauler.
The machine coalition of cyborgs, humanoids, androids, and drones. Unable to reproduce easily, they bought slaves from others to grow their citizenry.
'Most for cyborg fodder, a few for experiments.'
Star Union preached replacing frail flesh with machines—ironic they'd secretly import humans to sustain their society.
Such runs were ultra-secret, deals via third parties like Cults or Space Dogs.
'Mega Corp and Star Union aren't so different.'
Neutral in space survival terms, but Star Union had its shadows: casual disregard for life, dark humor.
Then they launched fighters.
Save for the hull's dark purple matching my exoskeleton and concealed weapons, it was a stock Zama-class escort.
They'd scanned—no visible plasma batteries or psy-cannons. They thought me easy prey.
'Coming for me, huh?'
I could guess why. Short on quota, or hedging against it.
'Problem is, this ain't a Cult ship.'
Like their aggression, I wouldn't let walking meat pass by.
'How to play this.'
Nightmare Horizon to swap ships was an option, but this hijacked escort was too good—inhuman advice optimized it for speed and low FTL energy draw.
'Don't just steal—innovate.'
I'd used Nightmare Horizon one-dimensionally before: waiting for boarders, adding weapons to fight gremlins.
'Had to back then.'
Under its control, no flesh traits worked.
But now, Transcendence Stage 2 changed that.
'Now I can use flesh traits even while dominating a ship.'
Transcendence Stage 1 limits lifted; Nightmare Horizon updated.
No more flesh trait ban—instead, a list of allowed ones.
Meaning I could graft claws or jaws onto this ship.
'Envied those Outspacers swallowing ships whole.'
Now I could devour everyone aboard in one bite.
'First, prep to greet the guests.'
Fighters were latching on, attempting to board.
Thoughtful prey, volunteering to be eaten.
Time to welcome them warmly.