Chapter 245
Chapter 245
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 245
Chapter Title: Pira Eleven's Last Stand
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PS-111 had bought me some precious time. Now it was my turn.
I had to either physically disable the warp drive or track down Pira Eleven, who was controlling the battleship.
'The Zaks Alpha-class battleship is about 1 km long.'
Pira Eleven had torn off part of the forward section to create the biodrone and hoses, so its size had shrunk, but it was still between 700 and 800 meters.
Searching every nook and cranny for one of those two targets would be inefficient—and there was a high chance I wouldn't stop the ship from warping in time.
'Better leave the engine to PS-111.'
Even though it had lost control, that thing would figure something out.
As if reading my thoughts, a broadcast came over the speakers.
The moment I heard PS-111 and Pira Eleven's voices, the ship tilted sharply. It seemed like it couldn't prevent the warp jump itself, but it was messing with other functions to keep the ship from fleeing recklessly.
"111, you'll regret this."
"That's not for you to worry about, Pira Eleven."
I sprinted down the metal corridor, listening to their bickering.
If this were a standard battleship, my nearly 40-meter body would have made moving around impossible. But this ship was different. Being an unmanned vessel, it didn't need facilities for cyborg crew members.
'Definitely designed purely for efficiency.'
The floor panels in the corridor I was racing through were grating-style, the kind used in cargo bays—the latticed metal grates I'd seen when I first awoke in this world.
As I crawled through corridors stripped of any aesthetic touches, the voices from the speakers fell silent. They were both fighting fiercely in some unseen domain.
I tuned out the speakers and set off to find Pira Eleven. As I headed toward likely spots, Specimen 026 tapped me from above.
"Big baby."
[Zuzuzu (What's up?)]
"Something feels weird over there."
It pointed to the passage I'd just passed with one pink tentacle.
I figured it had sensed prey like I had and was about to brush it off, but then something clicked.
'Come to think of it, this happened before with Specimen 026.'
When we'd entered the canyon to hunt Pira Eleven, it had said something similar. Right after mentioning a strange feeling nearby, massive hoses erupted from the ground.
I didn't know how it detected Pira Eleven's location, but this was the second time it'd reacted like this. I couldn't ignore it.
'What to do.'
No time to deliberate.
[Zuzuzuzu (Lead the way)]
"Okay! Trust me!"
I turned back and crawled in the direction Specimen 026 indicated.
If the corridors I'd traversed so far were like arteries, this path was capillary-thin. The passages were narrow.
I moved quickly using my combat arms and the blunt claws on my body, when my auxiliary organs picked something up.
'A smell?'
Mixed into the metallic scent from the grating floors was something alien.
A contradictory odor—unfamiliar yet familiar. This time, my Aimorph body recalled it faster than my mind.
'The stench of rotting meat and acrid chemicals.'
It reminded me of the corpse storage on Mega Corp's research ship and the gene vault on Monument.
The smell grew stronger each time we passed doors lining the narrow corridor.
'It mentioned Screamer production facilities.'
This must be the sector with the storage vaults. Beyond those steel doors, Pira Eleven had stashed gene samples and corpses hunted on this planet.
'I have to seize this ship no matter what.'
Just from the scent, I could tell there were plenty of gene essences stored here. Devouring everything on board would mean I'd gained most of what this planet offered.
'Focus on Pira Eleven for now.'
I resumed the search, imagining dumping all those gene samples into my maw later.
Beyond the storage sector lay the hangar. The temperature dropped sharply as soon as we entered. Through the open hangar doors, the planet we'd left loomed large.
With no engineers aboard, the hangar held more maintenance machines than fighter craft.
The machines seemed oblivious to the crisis afflicting their ship, dutifully servicing the fighters. It looked less like an aircraft hangar and more like a manufacturing plant.
Upon reaching the hangar, Specimen 026 retracted its tentacles.
"The weird feeling is here."
[Zuzuzu zuzuzuzu zuzuzuzu (You don't know exactly where?)]
"Nope."
I didn't think it was mistaken. Its childish speech belied a sharp mind.
If it sensed something, Pira Eleven was somewhere in here.
'Wait, no way?'
That's when I realized what Pira Eleven had planned.
'If it's about to lose the engine, overload it—and escape itself!'
It had turned our assumption that "Pira Eleven would flee on a Screamer support ship" against us. If I'd rushed to the engine, it would've blown the ship right then.
'Cunning bastard.'
Of course, it probably hadn't anticipated losing the ship. It had planned to finish me in the Blood River, but Specimen 026 threw a wrench in that.
Still, the crafty one had insurance for worst-case scenarios: prep a fighter and bail if needed.
'That's why it led me here.'
Following Specimen 026's guidance, Pira Eleven was indeed in the hangar—hiding somewhere, controlling the ship.
I glared at the busy machines.
'Not riding a fighter.'
True to its Machine Committee roots, it was Star Union's finest android. It had been dominating the ship remotely.
'But with PS-111 as a wildcard now, it won't risk that.'
It might lose command entirely.
Instead of checking fighters, I approached the scattered machines. Sure enough, a plasma beam shot from the back.
I raised my wing-arms to block it from hitting Specimen 026.
"Pira Eleven. Incomprehensible. How did you know?"
Amid the maintenance androids stood Pira Eleven in an incomplete form.
Its human-like face and the thin hoses dangling from the back of its head resembled PS-111, but the rest was utterly different. It was hard to call it either a Screamer or an android.
Pink, freshly cultured flesh bulged from its upper body, while the lower half looked like a Screamer's metal skeleton crudely grafted on. A biodrone clung to its chest.
'So that's how it escaped.'
It must've smuggled out a drone with its memory backed up. No wonder Specimen 026 reacted the same way.
"Eww. Hate it."
First time I'd seen Specimen 026 show outright disgust. I felt the same.
The enemy before me was too weak and repulsive to qualify as a Committee Head.
I advanced on it. The biodrone on its chest fired another plasma beam.
But the attack was ineffective.
Unless thousands fired at once, a drone the size of my finger meant nothing.
"Pira Eleven commands: Maintenance androids, protect me."
In a last-ditch effort, it summoned the fighter-maintenance androids. They charged, armed only with metal injectors for welding.
Meanwhile, it detached the hoses from its head, severing its physical link to the ship, and crawled toward a fighter with its mangled body.
'Where do you think you're going?'
As I pursued, the androids blocked my path, jabbing my body with their injectors.
I swatted them away like annoying mosquitoes with my combat arms. Those hit scattered across the floor, bisected.
Some climbed onto my head, only to have Specimen 026 whip tentacles and decapitate them.
Then the idling fighters activated en masse, unleashing their stormguns. I spread my wing-arm membranes wide to shield Specimen 026.
'Remote control.'
Typical Committee Head—tenacious. Pira Eleven bought time remotely and boarded a fighter.
Shielded by my membranes, I closed in on its fighter and extended erosion tentacles to wrap it.
Tightening them crumpled the rear rockets and side wings.
As the fighter turned to scrap in real-time, Pira Eleven shattered the reinforced cockpit glass and leaped out.
It shot a beam at my eyes, but that only pissed me off. I swung the wrecked fighter like a club, smashing it into Pira Eleven. Its metal skeleton lower half tore free completely.
I lashed out with erosion tentacles to ensnare it. Checking to remove the chest biodrone—nothing there.
In that split second, it'd detached the drone and fled.
The moment I noticed, another fighter rocketed out of the hangar. I thrust erosion tentacles after it, but it had already escaped into space.
With it gone, the fighters ceased firing, and the ship lurched. Remote control released.
Machine and android debris slid to one wall. As the ship plummeted, the fighter sped away.
'Tough bastard.'
It probably thought it'd escaped safely by now.
Then the speakers activated with Pira Eleven's voice.
It had linked comms from the fighter—a declaration of victory. It lost the ship and Screamers, but gained something more valuable: intel on me.
If it rendezvoused with the Star Union fleet and shared my data, my safety would crumble. Not just Players, but the Machine Committee would hunt me for experiments.
'Of course, that's only if it escaped cleanly.'
Had hopping consciousness between dummies so often dulled it? It overlooked something crucial.
Why wasn't I pursuing it? And what awaited outside.
In the infinite void of space, red and white meteors gleamed. Ominous stars portending doom closed rapidly on the fighter.
As if to collide.
"Your genes will be mine..."
The words cut off as the comm dropped.
A distant spark flared. The fighter's final blaze, pierced by a meteor.
From the explosion that devoured one of Star Union's top leaders emerged a small dragon with red wings.
PS-111's voice echoed from the speakers. The plummeting ship steadied.
At last, the long battle ended.