After the incident on the bridge with the terrifying creature appearing out of thin air, Tiff took some time to give us a rundown of what we were up against.

  The Universal Council was an amalgamation of species from across the galaxy consisting of the most powerful and influential members of galactic society. To gain a seat on The Council, an individual would need to have the support of their species and have the resources to affect change in their home system.

  While most galactic governments were monarchal, there were some variations of democratic republics where species, or governments, looked down on monarchies and preferred to give the illusion that their people had a voice. The Monarch of a member galaxy could hold a seat or appoint a representative to hold a seat on the council, and democracies would vote a member in. The vote, however, was almost never legitimate.

  The Council controlled the largest, most powerful army in the universe. The army was made up of pledge troops from each council member, so the troops’ races varied widely. The only good news I took from the whole conversation is that the galaxy was big, like so big that it was hard to wrap my head around. This was a good thing; it meant the Council couldn’t be everywhere at once, and it was possible to sow the seeds of rebellion if one was strategic in one’s planning.

  The current problem is that we were in the dimension created by a mysterious third party and controlled by the Master System AI, better known as the douchebag, Randi. The mysterious race known as the Coeus were similar to Tiff’s people, although these AI chose not to lower themselves by taking on true bodies. Instead, they existed in a sort of universal cloud. They looked down on the Phylaxian for choosing to take on physical bodies, and due to that, there was some bad blood there. The Coeus were subservient to the Council, much like the Phylaxians appeared to be. However, instead of providing bodies to support Reaping Dungeons, they constructed and built the Master System AI to run them.

  This meant that the Council had a lot of power inside a given dungeon dimension and explained how the Enforcer General was able to appear on our ship. Randi transported it here. A seed of an idea was beginning to form in my mind as Tiff explained.

  “Tiff, what are the chances that we can recruit the Coeus to our cause?” I asked, scratching at my scruffy beard.

  “Not likely,” she replied, “The Coeus are under the control of the Council, true, but they are mostly left alone. They create and run the dungeons, so the Council understands their value. They aren’t used and discarded like my people; instead, they are allowed to run the dungeon as they see fit.”

  “I get what you’re saying, but they seem to have a pretty high opinion of themselves. There is no way that they are just okay with the Council controlling them,” I said. “If we can rally them to our cause, it would be exactly the kind of support we need to really strike a blow against the Council. The dungeon is their toy, it allows them to have some sort of control over the assimilation of new planets. If we can take that control away, it will splinter their members and create chaos. I think it’s at least worth a shot.”

  Tiff sat in silence, obviously considering this as a viable option. “We would have to figure out how to contact them, and I couldn’t be the one doing the talking. They don’t hold Phylaxians in high esteem.” Tiff snapped her fingers as a realization struck, “There is a chance that you could send a message from the Containment facility. It will have a connection to the AI network. Andrew, this is very risky. The Coeus are an arrogant race. The chances of them receiving your message and not sharing it with the Council are slim. You need to consider the risk here before we move forward with this idea. I’ll need to run it past Princess Denae as well. I can’t leave her in the dark on this. She might even be willing to help us construct the message.”

  I nodded in agreement, “Okay, do what you need to do. I will need an answer before we attempt the exfil, though.”

  Over the next few days, we continued with our training. It was a never-ending cycle of sleep, wake up, train, and warp. CJ and I spent several hours in the VCR training together. He was getting really good at piloting the drop suit, and I was more than excited to have some backup. There were some hiccups, though.

  “Ugh, that fucking stings!” CJ said as his drop suit hit the ground, having been disabled by a punch from me in the simulation.

  Even though CJ wasn’t physically in the suit, he was controlling it through a quantum neural connection. This meant that, while he wouldn’t necessarily take any mortal wounds during combat, it would still hurt if he took major damage.

  “I told you that you need to learn to defend that right cross,” I shrugged and laughed.

  “Dude, you’re literally wearing a super suit. How do I defend against that, you asshole?” he whined as he stood up from the control station. Elvis created interface stations on the bridge and in the VCR so CJ could be physically in the room when we train.

  “CJ terrible fighter heh heh,” Elvis chuckled, “He is not warrior, Captain, he should be mopping floors…CJ a piece of shit.” Elvis for some reason decided to chime in and hit CJ where it hurts one more time.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. “What the hell, Elvis? Take it easy, man. CJ has come a long way in a short time. I am going to need him covering my back when we’re in the containment facility.”

  “Hey Elvis, why don’t you go to computer hell, you overgrown iPad!?” CJ shook his fist and shouted at the ceiling.

  “Okay, calm down guys. You two have worked together well over the last few days so let’s not throw that all away,” I said as I walked over to CJ. “You’re getting better, bro. You are good with guns, but there are going to be times when you have to fight in close quarters. Just keep working on it, and I’ll have Elvis set up some combat simulations for you. We have done everything we can do right now. We will be at the edge of the containment facilities dampening range in a few hours. Let’s go to the bridge and make sure we have the plan down.”

  We left the VCR and headed to the bridge, where Tiff was going over the exfil plans with Elvis.

  “I’m worried that we won’t be able to breach the outer doors’ security measures, Elvis. Are you sure the worm you are building will do the trick?” Tiff asked Elvis as she bent over a console, looking over the plans.

  “Elvis is master of all security systems…I will slay the puny defenses the containment facility presents,” Elvis responded confidently; He was never lacking in confidence.

  The plan was simple. I would be transported to the containment facility on the Pup. Elvis had pre-programmed the flight path, so I would just need to ride. Elvis had programmed the ship’s transponder to mimic a resupply vessel, and he was confident that the ship would be allowed into the cargo bay. The biggest issue is that the ships were usually unmanned. There was no need for anyone to physically enter the AI housing section of the facility. In order to get in, Elvis created a worm that would effectively kill the facility’s internal recognition system, allowing us to enter without the proper credentials. The problem is that the security system would be activated once we tampered with it.

  “Well, we knew we were going to have to fight. At least this way, we know when we’re going to have to fight,” I said, looking at CJ and Tiff.

  The center of the containment facility had three levels. It was shaped like a giant spinning top with a wide circular disc in the middle that housed AI containment rooms. The top and bottom of the facility each extended out to a point and were littered with different sensors and various antennae, which Elvis confirmed were used as the station’s communications array.

  The large, round center portion was the AI housing section. Tiff’s body would be in stasis in that area. Based on the specs that Elvis had been able to access, a hallway would run around the circumference of the center section. The top section held all of the environmental controls, as well as the power station and any other equipment relevant to maintaining the facility.

  The bottom section was security. This is where the autonomous mechs and mech-guards would be stored. There was one entrance elevator to this area, so the plan was for CJ to take the drop suit straight to the elevator and plant some explosives on the entrance. There would be one active security crew on patrol, but we wanted to ensure that we didn’t have any extra company. While CJ did that, I would immediately proceed to the stasis chamber and retrieve Tiff’s body before returning to the Pup.

  It seemed like a good plan; I trusted that Elvis and Tiff had a good idea of what we could expect.

  “We are approaching perimeter of dampening field, Captain,” Elvis announced. “I have also located a cloaked vessel approximately one-quarter light day from the facility.”

  “That is the Burning Retribution; Denae knows we’re here,” Tiff stood up nervously, and looked toward the bridge display. “Elvis, show coordinates on the main display.”

  “Showing coordinates now,” Elvis said.

  “She wants to see if you can do it. If she thinks you will fail, she will make a move to commandeer The Bloodhound.” Tiff turned and looked at me, concern visible on her face.

  “Elvis, what is the biggest gun on The Bloodhound?” I asked while picking at my fingernails nonchalantly.

  “Oooh Captain, Elvis been waiting for this moment,” Elvis said in an almost sexual tone.

  “Geez, man, bring it down a notch. Just tell me what we have,” I said, feeling a little icky.

  “The Bloodhound has an array of defensive measures, but the biggest is the enhanced electromagnetic rail gun. Elvis renamed it the Ron Jeremy because it’s big, it packs a punch and leaves a gaping hole wherever it hits,” he replied.

  “Uuh o-okay, let’s revisit that name a little later. Is that gun capable of disabling that ship?” I pointed toward the display showing the Burning Retribution.

  “Yes, Captain. I am familiar with the Retribution, it is a stealth attack class ship common in Havokium fleet,” Elvis replied. “Elvis can fuck them up. Elvis is strong.”

  “Yeah buddy, I don’t doubt that, but you will be disabled. Will the sub-minds you leave behind to pilot the ship be able to do the same?” I asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.

  “Yes, Captain, the sub-minds are not capable of independent thought, but they operate at levels far above any Earth computer. They will have no issue,” he said confidently.

  I looked at Tiff with a wry smile. “Has Denae contacted you lately? Since you ignored her orders, I mean.”

  Tiff looked at me curiously, trying to figure out where I was going with this. “N-no, she hasn’t made contact since that interaction, though, I haven’t tried to contact her either.”

  “You might wanna get ready to have a chat with her,” I said, “I want you to ask her to accept our hail.”

  “Okay, you are the captain. Hailing now…no response,” Tiff said, tapping at her console.

  “Let’s give her one more chance because I’m in a good mood,” I said, still smiling.

  “Still no response, Captain,” Tiff said, looking frustrated.

  “Elvis, I want you to calculate a firing solution for the Ron Jeremy to fire directly above the bridge of The Retribution,” I said, picking a piece of lint off of my uniform top.

  “YES, YES!!! I have dreamed of this, Captain! It is done!” Elvis was shouting triumphantly.

  Tiff left her station and hurriedly walked up to my chair. “What are you doing, Captain?!”

  I looked over at CJ, who was steadily sucking on his vape, a wry smile on his face as well. “Time to use that boomstick?” he asked excitedly.

  I gave him a quick wink, “Elvis…Fire the Ron Jeremy!”