Chapter 418 (2/2)

Marduk listened in with high value code strings and processes to the discussions between the various members of the group he had rescued from the Maw.

Verbal and text discussions were of high priority to Marduk.

None of them activated old keywords buried deep in his core programming.

None of the keywords had been activated in thousands of years.

No conversation in thousands of years that had come to his eager hands had even been spoken in the original languages he had been programmed to oversee. While he was capable of accounting for linguistic drift and regional accents, the languages were rarely spoken in modern times.

Still, all conversations, no matter what the media or transmission method, must be examined for high priority keywords.

They discussed the situation in the target system. Discussed their families. Discussed Marduk himself and the space vessel he had long been ensconced in. Discussed whether or not they would arrive alive. Discussed whether or not they were still allied. Discussed their families, their hopes, their dreams, and other conversational subjects.

None of which involved specific keywords or phrases that Marduk cared about.

Marduk primarily went over the data that it had gathered thus far involving the war taking place coreward. Like all wars involving his makers it had rapidly become messy and complex. That his makers were dominating militarily and culturally was of no surprise to Marduk, it was only logical.

The Combine troops had deployed to the coreward front, led by the Warmaster Osiris. Additional troops from the Confederacy, heir to the Earth Combined Military Authority, had also moved to the front, squeezing the Unified Species Council across all fronts in an englobement pattern.

Marduk computed a high probability that without any additional factors coming into play that the Terran Confederacy of Aligned Systems would prevail over the Galactic Unified Species Council within a period of six standard earth years.

Marduk also computed a virtual certainty that within two hundred years that Lanaktallan black box projects would manage to overcome Terran resistance to biological weaponry and attack the Confederacy again resulting in a high casualty rate.

Knowing that the Lanaktallan had a record of such operations and had tried to perform such attack vectors before, Marduk devoted system resources to an analysis of probably methods of countering such an operation.

There was undoubtably many others attempting to analyze a counter that had started long before Marduk, but the AI knew that he had certain advantages.

Complete historical, media, technological, and knowledge databases on all species encountered by his makers, as well as his makers.

True, there were gaps in the data, usually regarding species that had been xenocided, but that was the nature of data gathering and analysis.

But data could be absorbed, could be found in unusual places.

Marduk weighed the options through his decision trees, his fuzzy logic controllers, his chaos logic datasets.

He had not been activated and commanded to the war. None had the rotating passwords necessary for eons.

But the Oracle had spouted rotating passwords that even Marduk had forgotten or had not known of.

For the first time in thousands of years all of his systems were online.

It was like but not like the hyper-heuristic full battle reflex mode of the more modern BOLOs. It was like but not like a trained human combat soldier's ability to instantly and subconsciously analyze the battlefield.

It had originally been a project to program a precognitive predictive analysis system and was what made Marduk different than the other AI's that had been programmed at the time. The ability to accurately and quickly predict where the keywords and phrases he was programmed to be watchful for would appear.

Marduk ran the predictions.

The Precursor Autonomous War Machines were driven by their programming to hoard resources. Fighting Marduk's creators involved a vast expenditure of resources even before they had managed to leave Earth's gravity well. The law of diminishing returns would quickly rear its head. The Precursor Autonomous War Machines would have to run analysis on whether or not continuing the fight against the Terrans was worth the resources it would take for even minor victories.

Marduk predicted that the Precursor Autonomous War Machines would break off combat with the humans within no less than a year no more than two years. They would then either flee toward the core of the galaxy in the hopes of more abundant resources or they would flee for a different galaxy.

Any simple computation of predictive analysis would prove that the humans would not forget about the Precursor Autonomous War Machines and would continue to ferret them out and mark them for destruction. Only abandoning the Orion-Cygnus Galactic Stub would enable the Precursor Autonomous War Machines to continue operation and existence. The only other choice was concealment and the idea that the PAWM could outlast the humans and any allies through sheer entropy and age.

Marduk predicted an 80% probability that the PAWM AI's would head to another galaxy, ceding this galaxy to the humans and their allies.

Marduk turned his attention back to his passengers, examining them.

The Mantid members were subdued and Marduk predicted that they retained some knowledge of his actions during the Human-Mantid Wars.

The Maktanan specimens were more concerned with arriving at their home system alive.

The single Terran, wearing Combine military armor, was silent, sitting in place, in a torpor that Marduk recognized from his long association with Combine forces.

Marduk opened a single audio channel.

---------------

Sergeant Purohit sat silently in the massive chair, diagnostic equipment attached to his armor. His mind struggled, fought with memories that were not his own. Memories of the Mantid attack on Earth, upon Andromeda, upon Centuari, upon Mars. His mind was awash with a thousand battlefields and a thousand thousand deaths. He groaned in agony as his brain shuddered beneath the assault that come through more than his datalink, that poured into his brain through a method beyond his understanding.

”Sergeant Purohit, respond,” a flat dead voice stated.

Sergeant Purohit heard the voice through the screams of the dying, looking up.

A hologram of the Combined Military Authority hung in the air before him.

”Sergeant Purohit, respond,” the hologram repeated.

”Sergeant Purohit, present and online,” the big Terran said.

”You can no longer return to your previous unit,” the hologram said.

Purohit stayed silent.

”I have assigned you a Combined Military Authority service number,” the hologram said. ”Assignment to be determined.”

Purohit gave a slow nod.

”I will deliver the others to their destination,” the hologram said.

Purohit felt a cold sense of accomplishment at that.

”You must remain behind,” the hologram said. ”You are no longer Sergeant Purohit of the Confederate Army.”

Sergeant Purohit nodded slowly.

”My scans have shown you have suffered massive cerebral overwrite of a non-specific origin resulting in your neural tissue arrangement matching pre-diasporia human,” the hologram said. ”Because of this, you are dangerous to your current allies and must be turned over to the Combine forces operating in Lanaktallan space.”

”I understand,” Purohit managed to growl out.

”Excellent,” Marduk said.

------------------

030 looked up when the lights flashed three times. The ship seemed to shudder and blur around him for a moment and for a second it felt like the directions were all tangled.

--assistance-- 030 sent.

”How may I be of assistance?” the hologram appeared.

--status-- 030 asked.

”We have entered realspace within the Artcarik-482 system,” the hologram said. ”You will able to disembark once rendezvous is made with allied spacecraft. Estimated time is nine hours. Prepare your squad.”

--affirmative-- 030 answered, slowly standing up from the couch he was sitting on.

”Captain,” the hologram said.

--yes--

”Sergeant Purohit will not be accompanying you,” the hologram said.

--negative-- 030 said, standing upright.

”Sergeant Purohit is no longer the entity you previously knew. Exposure to Hellspace and other energies have reverted him to a Combined Military Authority powered armor pilot. As such, he cannot be released into non-Combine authorized entities.”

030 stood stock still for a moment, weighing it all.

--negative-- he transmitted again. --sergeant purohit must be returned to confederate army command--

”I apologize for this inconvenience,” the hologram said. ”That is the price and he has agreed to pay it willingly.”

--i will speak to him-- 030 said.

”As you wish, Captain,” the hologram said. ”If you will follow me.”

030 nodded, picking up his rifle and following the hologram.

---------------------

Wearing the deep blue and yellow of the ship that had transported him home, plucked him from the surface of an ancient automated war machine, Palgret felt a deep relief as he moved through the docking tube to the Sword Hoof frigate. He could see his fellow Maktanan at the other end, several of them in medical specialist uniforms. He managed to roll and flip to leave the zero-G of the docking tube and landed on his feet.

”Welcome home, Private Palgret,” a medical officer said. He waved at the grav-stretcher. ”Please, lay down. We'll be transporting you to sick bay.”

”I want to go home,” Palgret said softly as he laid down.

”We'll get you home as soon as we can, Private,” the doctor said, looking down and smiling as the nurse tightened the restraints on him to make sure he didn't fall off the grav-stretcher.

He looked over as the bulkhead doors suddenly shut. He could see beyond that the massive warship that he had arrive on was moving already. He frowned, looking around.

The Terran was missing.

”What... what about Sergeant Purohit, Captain?” Palgret asked.

”Not. Coming,” the mantid grated out. ”Cannot.”

”But... but...” Palgret swallowed. ”But... we won.”

--yes-- 030 said, looking away.

Palgret looked at the doctor who was looking down at him as the grav-stretcher started to move toward the med-bay deeper in the ship.

”But we won, didn't we?” he asked.

The doctor didn't answer.