STS. LOG-057. (Patreon)

LOG-057.

The benefits to knowing Kalani personally was that I was apparently on the fast track when it came to the current resource requisition system. I'd merely needed to place in an order for what I needed, and then some human weenie had hopped to deal with it for me, crisp salutes meeting me as I left the logistical powerhouse that was RRS-station Alpha.

The negatives, as I'd found after being ambushed by a pair of lesser tactical droids painted in standard Confederate blue livery while in the midst of waving at a crowd of apparently adoring fans on my way back to Silent Guardian, was that my nominal superior technically had the right to summon me whenever he wished, and was evidently inclined to do so, judging by my presence within the chamber the two sub-tacs had whisked me away to.

At a glance, the room was fairly obviously some kind of holdout bunker originally, built within the deepest parts of the tetrahedral monstrosity that was station Alpha. However, instead of the expected blaster racks or deploying hardlight cover, there sat a large, oblong oval of a table, seats bolted into place around it.

Naturally, those seats weren't empty. Those just who they were filled by was rather interesting, as a matter of course.

"AC-1, AC-2, you may leave. Fleet commander, join us."

Watching passively as my two escorts strode back outside to either go elsewhere or perhaps just idle amongst my waiting Magna Guards, I stepped forward and moved towards the closest available chair, photoreceptors idly taking in the various figures present as I did so.

Kalani was predictably at the head of the table, sat in a stiff pose in front of a small projected hologram of what looked to be several segments of the galaxy at large, each piece having been cut away and enhanced to better reveal the systems that made them up. Occasionally, I noticed the small bit of text floating up next to the representation, and quickly realised that they seemed to be a constant series of status reports from various unidentified sources. An intelligence network of some kind, perhaps?

Sat across from each other on opposite sides of the table were the purple and spiraling forms of Nyx and Typhon respectively. The former had her hands folded over one another, and for all the world appeared to just be patiently waiting for something, presumably the beginning of whatever this little get-together was.

That notion fell slightly flat in the face of her crimson gaze currently being directly locked on her counterpart, who currently had his faux beak buried in a datapad, strange glyphs and diagrams floating about atop its surface, occasionally reflecting a bit of soft blue light against his chassis.

Last but not least was the droid who seemed to resemble Kalani the most, bearing a similar army green paint job. The primary difference were his golden photoreceptors, alongside the wild, swirling emblem emblazoned upon his chest, appearing distinctly more animalistic compared to the smooth, graceful trim printed atop our supreme commander's frame.

The assumption of the newcomer's assigned gender came readily, for it wasn't difficult to recognise his form from countless propaganda pieces that had been spread around prior to the rise of the Empire.

The terror of deep space. The saviour of a dozen worlds. The machine that had entered direct close quarters melee combat with Anakin motherfucking Skywalker and slapped him around for over five seconds. And of course, Count Dooku's personal adjutant on multiple occasions.

Kraken.

Despite my previous intent to remain quiet until called out, I found myself speaking up just as I settled into my seat, planting my shiny metal ass down and gesturing towards the artificial admiral with a hand, half cape shifting and drawing glances as I did so.

"It was to my knowledge that you were rendered offline. Twice."

Perhaps I might have been able to put it a bit more smoothly, but in the face of a relative stranger, and a fellow construct like this, I found myself falling back on the cold manner of speech our kind used regularly, even as somewhere within my mind's eye, the admiral's three golden optics flashed.

"Reports of my demise were not exaggerated. But droid units are significantly easier to revive than organics. I am Kraken-3. Your contribution towards our persistence against the Republic is noted."

A glance at Kalani showed that the highest ranked amongst us didn't seem very intent on correcting the old war dog, though that fact fell to the side of my thought processes right as I realised the exact nature of this gathering, in tune with our superior reaching forward to press a small, subtle button hidden within a slight recess at the table's side.

There were no organics here. Not a single officer, commissioned or otherwise. Just five frankly scary super computers all sitting around staring at each other.

"Beginning record. The current date is-"

It was a tactical meeting. A super tactical meeting. My god.

"In attendance alongside myself are super tactical units Nyx, Kraken, Typhon, and Spyder. All acting in their current roles as special operations commander, director of esoteric weapons development, dreadnought admiral, and forward strike fleet commander. The goal of this meeting is general assessment of the ongoing war effort against the Empire, status reports on various projects of interest, and the exchange of viable data that may prove useful towards the former two topics."

The present military leader of the entire Confederacy left the lofty titles and statement to hang for a second, before leaning back and spreading his arms outwards, a surprisingly organic motion that I immediately took note of.

Seemed someone had developed a few habits since I'd last seen him.

"I now leave the floor open to initial questions and or suggestions, prior to our respective status reports."

In an instant that was perhaps a quarter the span of the average human being's heart beating, Typhon leaned forward, raising a hand.

"I would like to suggest that additional resources be routed towards successful integration of former Infinite Coil assets within the wider Confederacy-"

The downright fervour in the machine's emotionless tone was met with an amusing kind of resigned indifference from our supreme commander, who cut him off with a shake of his head.

"Denied. The civilian interim government have voted that conscription of sapients, classified as Separatist or otherwise, into the Confederate armed forces be considered an absolute last resort. Your former cult allies may enlist if they desire, but no extra efforts will be made to acquire them when other forces are more readily within our means to construct or reactivate."

The way Typhon immediately sat back with his posture as straight as possible might have been worth a chuckle, if not for the fact that the entire interaction hadn't just proved as a stark reminder that the director's loyalties were apparently still partially divided.

At least Nyx's persistent staring made more sense now, given that she was effectively the cult droid's watcher. Evidently something had happened between the two while I was gone, leading to an increased level of scrutiny from the special operations commander.

Another few seconds passed before I finally realised that no one else had any intention of speaking up, leaving me to take that opportunity with both hands by gesturing towards the anomaly next to Kalani with a tilt of my head.

"I find myself curious as to Kraken's presence. When was he reactivated? How did he come to arrive within Sanctum? And what is his current purpose?"

In lieu of our supreme commander responding, the admiral himself nodded, golden optics burrowing into me as he spoke up.

"Prior to the droid shutdown command, my processor was recovered by Republic forces, likely seeking to pull information free of my primary memory core. A special detachment of BX commando units successfully prevented this, and returned me to Confederate space, upon which I was relocated to an orbital blacksite hidden within the deep peripheries, though not immediately reactivated. The reasons for this are not currently known to me."

Before I could interrupt and ask any questions (not that I really intended to), the super tactical droid continued, the barest hints of what might have been admiration hidden in his voice.

"The broadcast of the Sanctum Beacon Signal proved successful in awakening the lesser units assigned to my care, who proceeded to defer command to me, as per standard naval protocol. I found myself coming online within the bridge of the Subjugator class dreadnought Perseverance. Adrift, but functional."

At my silent stare, the admiral finished things with another nod in my direction.

"Following that event, I took what assets were available to me and rampaged through Republic occupied space, disabling and ultimately destroying several fleets before arriving here. Now I defer to the authority of the elected supreme commander, as per standard naval protocol. My purpose is the destruction of the Republic, which you all currently refer to as the Empire."

…Well then.

Damn. So that's where the dreadnought had come from!