Prologue

The pilot glanced out the forward windshield of the colony ship.  It was an astounding sight, surrounded by stars and a vacuum.  Ever since man began traveling, he had sought out wide, open spaces.  It was the history of Old Terra; the ancient explorers whose names are now forgotten, sailed the great oceans just as the colony was now sailing the sea of space.  A humbling thought.  Only it had been ages since the complete colonization of Old Terra, and now, with the development of hypersleep and the “space-jumpers,” as they were collectively known, mankind was finally able to begin the exploration of the universe. 

The pilot re-examined his digital readouts on the control panel.  January 14^th, 3051, right on the mark. They were rapidly nearing their destination: Ipsis three of the Toras galaxy, class E5.  He punched a sequence on the keypad, and flipped a switch above his head, preparing for the awakening of the occupants.  He glanced one more time out the window—aaaand, there she be!  Ipsis three of the Kalrae system, the new Terra!  He hit the “defrost” button to begin the awakening cycle in the hypersleep chambers, and slowed the ship’s speed a couple knots.  “Beeeutiful,” he crooned, gazing at the lush, jungle-like forests.  Ipsis three had everything they would need, but just to be safe, they had stocked each of the three space-jumpers with essentials—provisions, first-aid supplies, building materials, communication devices, and enough mechanical supplies to build a small fleet of military planes and to convert the three space-jumpers into a well-endowed stationary-orbit space-station.  He paged the rest of the skeleton crew, and sure of the moves he’d dreamed about for the past 28 months, he began the descent into orbit around the planet, to make preparations for the onset of colonization.

Alive

“I said I’m processing as fast as I can!”

“No, it’s not good enough; they need more power, NOW!”  The captain paused, pursing his lips.  “What kind of A.I. are you, anyway?”  He was new to the ship, and probably hadn’t even read the required manuals, I thought.

“I,” I stressed the pronoun, “am the Networked Artificial Intelligence for Landside Accomodations, N.A.I.L.A., for short, and I am doing all I can for those people down there!”  My circuit synaptors felt fried, yet I felt a curious surge of satisfaction as my sensors picked up the reverb of my voice on the bridge.  “And I think I know more about their situation than you, Captain.”

The expression on his face was priceless, but I resisted the urge to save the image file to my hard disks.  Yeah, you had it coming though, you self-absorbed, farking idiot.  I hated how he treated the technicians on my ship; objects worth less than the moon dust on his boots. 

Impulses traveled at the speed of light within my circuitry as I multitasked, deploying surface nukes, following the battle-lines, searching for places of refuge for the colonists.  I reveled in my abilities, however, I couldn’t help but focus an on-board camera to watch the Captain in disgust.  Yeah, that’s right you dirt-groveler, try and look at ease on my ship.  You know you don’t belong here.  You don’t even care about the landside, about my pilots taking falls so this space colony can be safe from the farking Keknov….

“Yes!” I crowed, making the grizzled old coot jump.  “My sensors show that our Venom fighters are beginning to push the alien forces back!”

“Sho—“

I flipped the switch and the holographic maps materialized before he could even finish his sentence.  Yeah, I can do so much more than you.  I’ll teach you to respect me, my crew, and my ship.  Naila is my name, and you are in my territory.  With ease, I re-routed landside power to generators on the other side of the planet, and tried to get a bean on those Destroyers.

“What are you doing?”

I couldn’t help but do the equivalent of an eye-roll.  That so-called Captain was always breathing down my neck about something.  I remembered the first time he set foot on my dock.  Looking down his nose at everyone, and insisting he have a finger in everything that went on.  I remembered his implication that I was an incompetent and unreliable factor.  How I wished… No.  It wouldn’t solve anything.  Better to answer the old coot and keep on keepin’ on.

“I’m trying to get a lock on a Destroyer to match profiles of known alien ships in my database to see if there are any schematics that might help my pilots.”

“I see.”  God, he sounded so smug.  Like he was waiting for an opportunity to flaunt his imagined superiority.  He scanned the holographic maps, and sniffed in an obvious show of disdain.  “And, just what are you planning to do, then?”

“Must you insist on knowing every farking thing I’m doing at all times?!  Isn’t it enough that I’m working my proverbial ass off to save lives down there?  As a Captain, I think you’d have the sense to realize that and to trust your cooperatives to their jobs!”

He smirked.

“But as an A.I., Naila, you are required to report to the known senior officer.  At least, that was what I’d been told in the lecture about A.I. protocol on Arcon Five.”

Shit.

“Just shut up and let me get back to work!”  Seconds later, I found a match in the database, and sent alien schematics to the pilots.

“Yo, Cormac!” I hollered through the Venom fighter speakers at my lead wing-man.

“Waz up, beautiful?” He laughed, nervous.  I tried not to groan; it was tough down there.

“I have schematics of those Keknov Destroyers!”

“Booyah, Granma!  I knew I loved you for a reason, Naila!”

“Ha ha, you flatter me, Cormac.”

He laughed, and sounds of rapid laser fire ricocheted nearby.  I could smell the searing-hot spice of electricity charging through the fighter ship terminals.  They were pushing them hard—the mechanic technicians would have their hands full when they came back… if, I thought briefly, but stopped.  They will come back, I swear on the first bolt ever put into my frame! 

“What am I looking at here, beautiful?”

I could envision Cormac cocking his head in his peculiar way as he studied the schematics through his visual-feed.  “You’re looking at a plan of the top starboard side; I’ve highlighted the firing targets in green.  You’ll want to swoop down on them in formation triple-C-dash-nine, but beware of their long-range cannons! Those—“

“Are highlighted in red?”

“You got it, bud.”

The Venom engine whined, and I could almost feel the lurch of the fighter as Cormac swerved to avoid crash debris.  “Blue team, respond!” he called into his com unit.  I raised my voice a couple decibels, to be heard over the interference.

“Cormac!  I’m out—Good flyin’!”

“Thanks, beautiful!  See you back at the docks!”

I couldn’t help but run probabilities of our possible success versus our possible failure.  The familiar exchange with Cormac was calming, but dark thoughts swirled through my circuits.  What if?  Damnit, what if? 

Speaker crackle interrupted my musings.  We were being hailed.

“This is Korvulnok of the Destroyer Keshkol.  We demand immediate surrender.”

“Eat shit and die!!” I shrieked, and the Captain turned in amazement to look at my column.  “Be damned if we’ll surrender,” I muttered as I threw up blockers to the main hailing frequency.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m eliminating an annoyance.”

“According to code five four three dash nine of the Intergalactic Treatise on Colonization, we are obligated to—“

“I don’t care about any farking codes!”  I confronted the Captain with a series of holographic images from the database.  “Do you seriously think we should humor their request?  Just Look at what they do to subjugated nations!”

He winced as the graphic images assaulted his retinas.

“Do you really think we’d be able to make a deal with those farking demons?”  I spat out the word in a crackle of speaker overload.  “NO!  Our only chance for survival here is to fight!”

“But evacuation—“

“There is no way!  The Keknov Galleons have already moved into position—they’ll riddle every one of our transport vessels with laser fire, condemning them to a slow demise in space.  And those Keknov farkers are like vultures; they’ll hover over the maimed ship carcasses, waiting to pick them apart piece by piece, torturing the occupants with a lingering threat of—”

“Then fire your on-board weapons at them!  Eliminate them!”

“I can’t—they’re out of my range!  I’m stationary, remember?”

“Then call—“

“You know we’re too far out to call for assistance.  No, we’re on our own out here.”

I could see the gravity of the situation sink into him, his smugness dissipating.  I ran more schematic analysis reports, and continued re-routing power.  As I worked, I couldn’t help but remember how much everything had changed and grown over the past seven years….

“Hey beautiful, I hear you are the answer to a lost colony’s prayers!”

“What is your name and rank, and what is this ‘beautiful’?  I have no physical form which fits any known parameters of the concept of ‘beauty.’”

Cormac laughed, a soft musical tenor.

“I am Cormac P. Grovan, Senior Venom fighter pilot, and ‘beautiful’ can also be a term of endearment.”

“Thank you; I am N.A.I.L.A., or the Networked Artificial Intelligence for Landside Accomodations. This concept of ‘endearment’ is also strange to me.”

“ ‘Endearment’ is…” he paused, cocking his head, “is the act of liking someone or something.  Of having a fondness for a person, object, or whatever.”

“I see.  So you call me ‘beautiful,’ because you are showing a fondness for me, correct?”

He laughed again.  “That is correct, Naila.”

“Naila?  Oh, my acronym.  You may call me that if you wish.  But, why are you fond of me?  We have only just met, and I have not yet had the opportunity to establish working relations with the crew.  Is it because my design is currently unparalleled and I contain the finest computerized components?”

“Because you are the answer to a lost colony’s prayers.”

At the time I arrived here in the Toras galaxy, the colony had already been struggling for a year against the elements with minimal technology, and the organization and efficiency I brought them was heartily welcomed.  I still remember how “computerized” I was in the beginning.  Cormac thought it was funny that my programmers hadn’t loaded anything in my mainframe regarding human behavior and relations.  But as I expressed curiosity, he was a willing teacher, and we spent many evening discussing “human” concepts….

“No, I don’t think you’re understanding me, Cormac.  In my time here, I’ve noticed that how humans act does not follow a specific pattern.  You’re telling me you are all made up of different components, like me, yet I am programmed to follow patterns and protocol.  Humans are not.  There has to be something more that governs human behavior than just their internal components.”

He stopped, thinking.  By this time I had known him for four years and could almost follow his thought patterns simply by observing.  I had confused him.

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that, Naila.”

And now, everything about life that I had come to understand and love was threatened.  Many people, like that farking Captain, insist I am just a jumble of wires, a collection of silicone and metal alloys powered by electricity.  I must admit that is valid.  The laws of nature say I am incapable of feeling human emotions because of this fact.  I remembered the images of the Captain on my bridge.  He was one of those.  He didn’t think A.I. was any more than some over-grown abacus.  I beg to disagree, and they can’t explain my sensitive existence.  I was an oddity in a titanium cage. 

I was snapped out of my tasks by a cry from the Captain.

“NAILA!”

“What do you want now?”

“Look—the maps!”  The Captain gesticulated at the holographs, wide-eyed.

I turned my attention to the holographic maps and watched helpless as a flood of Keknov reinforcements swooped down, and one by one our fighters disappeared from the image.  “Oh God…”

“Cormac!  Can you hear me?  Cormac, come in!  Retreat!  Retreat now!”  I cranked the decibels in a frenzy.  “Report, Blue Team Leader!  Cormac!”

“Naila, I’m here, listen, we’ve almost got ‘em!  Oo-rah!”

“No!  Listen to me, pull back!  Pull back!  They’ve called in reinforcements!  You can’t execute!  Retreat!”

“Reinforcements?”

“At eight-o’clock!  Abandon your mission, pull your team back!”

I heard him calling to his team, respond Blue, respond, Blue retreat, retreat, laser fire and explosions punctuating every word, nearly drowning his insistent orders out.  I monitored the com frequency, helpless, frozen in the moment.  Blue retreat, abandon mission, abandon and retreat….

An explosion shattered through the speakers, deafening all with a roar.

“Cormac?  Cormac, respond!”

“Blue team leader, report!”

Stunned, I turned a camera to the holographic maps.

Blue team was gone.

The Captain sunk down in his chair, his head in his hands, the interference from the explosion still hissing through the speakers.   Painful, the moments ticked by, and the fears that hid in the dark came out to prey upon paralyzed minds. 

“They’ll be coming soon, won’t they?”  The Captain whispered.

“I’m afraid so.”

The hissing faded and the sporadic blip of an electronic unit punctuated the silence.

“You gave it your best, Naila.”

“Yeah.”

“You probably can’t understand, but make sure we’re remembered, will you?  Make sure no one forgets the colony of Ipsis Three in the Toras Galaxy.”

“It’s already done.”

He inhaled carefully, as if savoring the recycled air.  I turned all but a few of my outside sensors off.  I didn’t want to see them rip into my skin.  I didn’t want to see the loss of the friends I’d made over the past seven years.  Suddenly, I knew what it was like to feel loss, to feel pain.

We waited.  There was no way out.

“Over my years here, Cormac told me about human religion.”

The Captain looked up.

“He told me about this place called Heaven that people go to after they pass on.  He told me that it was beautiful and safe, free from any worries, cares, or hurts.  He told me that sometimes the man in charge of that place helps those who are in need.”

I was like a taut spring.  I couldn’t figure out why the Keknov hadn’t started dissembling my frame.  Why hadn’t the grinding and severing of steel begun?

“What are you getting at, Naila?”  He sounded tired, resigned.

“I’m saying that maybe there is still hope.”

“Why?  You showed me what those aliens do to vanquished nations.  How can there still be hope?”

“Because they haven’t touched me yet.”

I switched from the holographic surface maps to a panorama of the space around the planet and the station.  The Galleons had moved to attack positions around the station, yet they were stationary, as if biding their time.

The Captain sat up a little straighter in his chair, examining the map.

“Whaddaya say?”  I asked after a moment, an idea forming in my mind.  He turned to face my column, a slow, grim smile spreading over his features.

“Let’s do it.”

I revved up the on-board generators, and with an ‘oo-rah,’ the attack began once again.  As I whirled my on-board weapons, firing recklessly, I remembered Cormac, the Blue team of Venom fighters, and found what it was to be alive.

Exist in a moment.

Revel in the flash.