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Lest A Monster I Become [Multiple][Pseudo-SI]

Just your bog-standard multicross fiction about a random guy who finds himself thrust into the life of being tied to no single world, and deciding to make something of himself in the process. Currently entirely unbeta'd. I make no claims to high-quality authorial product. Note to readers: many of the themes in this story deal with the consequences of power; having it, using it, and the consequences of both -- both the good and the bad. Please be advised. Author : Logos01 Original : https://forums.sufficientvelocity.com/threads/lest-a-monster-i-become-multiple-pseudo-si.62680/reader/?post=14403340#post-14403340 *This is copy

TheOneThatRead · 書籍·文学
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25 Chs

Chapter 14: Kromagg Resistance

The Heartseed was on a low-energy transit from just beyond the sol system. It would take eight days for her to reach Mars orbit. All scanners and drive systems were on minimum possible emissions profile, and one of the modifications that had been made to the 'Seed during my latest three months of sleep was the reason why I was even willing to go this far.

The entire ship was now lined with Class 2 Dho-Na based anti-perception wards with Class 4 general-function Wards. They were made using a similar method to my own diadem -- vacuum plasmonics with massless eezo corridors. The cost, if the Jovian League had been set up with some sort of currency, would have been ruinous; the amount of labor and energy involved in the precise calculation of the necessary configurations, let alone their actual painstaking synthesis -- all under watchful gaze of Hosts and hand-crafted, as was entirely required for them to be effective at all -- was enough to rebuild half of Starhaven. They were the the absolute best that could be made by my society, and being built on the scale they were was damned impressive. It took an entire extra bank of terra-root reactor nodes to keep them supplied with power.

The Engineer had even surprised me with a further adaptation pulled from the deadworld in the 'verse reserved for study of Dho-Na Curve effect generation. Or, more precisely, from various cuttlefish species of said deadworld: the biohull exterior of the Heartseed now had an optical camouflage that was, thanks to a dedicated array of automail eyes and a small-ish FTL computing core, functionally indistinguishable from true invisibility. It couldn't be operated at the same time as the virtual glass and biotic barrier defenses -- as those were exterior to the hull and had optical signatures of their own -- but the hull polarization technology was entirely compatible with it, so it wasn't as though the 'Seed was sitting fragile and vulnerable. Just … less well-protected than it otherwise might be, ignoring the defensive benefits of "statistical improbability" that would be induced by the Class 4 general purpose ward.

Silent, invisible, and cold, the 'Seed was making a transit I would never have made without these abilities. The Mars I would be in orbit over in eight days was the Mars sharing the same solary system as the most successful of the Kromagg Earths. I couldn't kick the 'mags in the teeth without investing myself entirely in the society here, but I could sure as hell tip the balance in the favor of the Resistance, who had adopted many Kromagg technologies as their own -- not as much of a feat as it sounded like considering the fact that the Earth in question had been conquered originally with the intent of being developed into an industrial center for the 200-Earth-strong Kromagg Empire.

One against two hundred wasn't great odds… but I could and would help offset those odds. The only real reason why the Earth in question hadn't been immediately reconquered once they threw off their Kromagg overlords was because they had one particular technology that was absolutely vital to the future of my own little empire: sliding interdiction technology. Oh, they had all the other goodies I was after from their Manta ships as well; antigravity thrusters, sliding technology itself -- or as they called it, "quantum probability translocation", interdimensional tracking and communications. To add to it all, A typical Manta ship actually had telepathic interfaces, meaning that a trained psychic was necessary to even operate the thing.

And that was the part that was tricky about it all, as what the Resistance also had, without which even the slidecage technology would have been unsuccessful in ensuring their victory: humans fully trained in the Kromagg psychic arts. It was this last item that had been driving me to distraction over the last few days. The humans of this Resistance world didn't really understand the technologies they were manufacturing; they didn't need to. They just needed to use the machines that made the war machinery, and use that machinery. Oh, give them a few decades of further development and opportunity to catch their breath and actually study those factories and the Manta ships and rayguns and so on, and I had no doubt at all that the humanity of this Earth would in time start to advance that technology.

But in the meantime, the literal hundreds of Earths under Kromagg rule, each of which having scientists who did understand that technology, would work on continuing to advance it. And slidecage tech wasn't perfect -- as evinced by how I was approaching their Earth at all. While the 'maggs had no appreciable presence outside of any Earth's gravity well, that was largely a product in The General and The Administrator's opinions of their expansion through Sliding technology; why look up when looking to your right gets you an effectively infinite amount of wealth right at your fingertips?

The moment the humans of this Earth started "hitting back", they were in for a bad ride. At least, they would have been … had I not arrived.

So I found myself pacing in the virtualspace bridge of the Heartseed, contemplating which of the uplift packages I should deliver to the Resistance. I'd had several selected based on the level of risk I was willing to expose both the League and the Resistance to.

Without hesitation the uplift packages would include monohydrogen fusion reactors, non-radioactive particle weapons, gravity plating, fusion torch design, and tritanium alloy synthesis. That was the "completely safe" option.

The next tier up included staying around the place long enough to fully download the extant data from the Kromagg factories' computers and Manta ships, and scan everything that is or isn't bolted down, along with taking samples of various pieces of tech myself. This put me at risk of being "outed as a Kromagg infiltrator", but I could increase the odds of successful outcomes by paying for this with hull polarization tech and the New Virginian Gate technology as it operated -- as far as I could tell -- on different principles than the temporary Einstein-Rosen Bridges the quantum probability translocation systems utilized. I was hopeful that the differences involved wouldn't preclude the targeting methods the Kromagg had from allowing the Gates to similarly be targeted. This was slightly riskier, as it depended on the 'magg-trained psychics not being able to pierce the Class 2 anti-perception glamour my OFCUT amulet would allow me to generate. Well, that and the optical camouflage effect of my bio-hardsuit. I didn't want to rely on my hopping-sideways thing because I didn't know how it would interact with the slidecage tech, but between the battle-reflex-mode my neural implant granted, the various abilities baked into the hardsuit, and my sleeve's biotic abilities… I was fairly confident in my ability to get out of any scrapes I might accidentally land in. That was option two.

Option three was full open contact with the Resistance, declaring myself and who I was, and investing in the Jupiter moon system of the Resistance homeworld as my foot in the door for the Slider 'verse. This was the riskiest as it depended on gaining decent transreality targeting from the slide technology and being able to target the Mass Effect Homeside 'verse. It also represented a long-term investment in the Earth of this world, and as such I could safely introduce Dho-Na Curvature programming and its benefits to the people of this Earth, as I could provide them with Host advisors to safely teach them how to not get themselves and their planet eaten by an extradimensional grue. This on top of all the rest. It just had the drawback that the Kromaggs would almost certainly start to develop spacebound capacities to fight back, and would eventually due to this and the sheer logistics offset between the Resistance and the Kromagg Imperium develop into a slogfest war that my Jovian League would inevitably get drawn into. And possibly followed back from. Hell, that would probably happen.

But it would also be the most likely version of any investment on my part into the humanity of the Resistance that would result in the Resistance actually surviving when they finally struck back; whereas the other options would most likely only prolong the amount of time it took for the Resistance to finally be completely crushed… but not put the Jovian League at risk. And that was why I was still pacing six days into the fourteen day cold voyage of the Heartseed through the dark and vasty deep of the void.

Eight days later, I was no better off in terms of my decisions. I'd put off the inevitable by trying to determine what technology I could acquire from low earth orbit -- using an upjumped skycar with exactly equivalent protections and wardings as the Heartseed as a shuttlecraft -- while feeding the scans and hacking efforts' results back to the Thinktank currently stationed on the Heartseed.

I … was actually more than a little depressed by the efficacy of the hacking efforts. I supposed I shouldn't be -- I'd allowed, for this mission, the use of offensive Dho-Na glamours as a part of the digital footprint of this part of the mission. As these were well-understood overall by the research community of Secondside Lighthaven -- who were the most-focused on gaining just that understanding -- and as there was extremely little likelihood that even the telepathic computer interfaces of the 'magg factories and ships would trip over the result of the use of the approach, the advantages outweighed the risks. In this case.

Same went for the scanning efforts, really. Yes, they were passive scans, but the Kromaggs didn't really have sensor scattering or blocking materials science to speak of, so their factories were extremely vulnerable to in-depth analytics given the 'Trekverse scanning I had access to. I'd even risked a sweep with the quantum beacon once I was confident that the Resistance wasn't likely to pick up on it.

Ultimately it was that self-same apparent vulnerability that made the decision for me: the ease with which I entirely bypassed their information and operational security without even touching down on the planet was just offensive. These people … yes, they'd fought several hard-won battles; the population of the planet below me was less than two billion. It had been over ten billion when the 'maggs came. But they were so focused on building up the military-industrial complex of their facilities, of laying down redundant slidecages over their cities and in general hardening their world against future intrusion, that they didn't even once look up.

With the Heartseed alone, I could pound this planet into the stone age and they could do absolutely nothing to fight back. A fifty-meter corvette, not even equipped with capital-ship weapons. I sighed, and turned the … aw hell, let's give it a decent name … the voidshuttle back to dock back on my ship.

Ten minutes later, I was again in the control tank of the Heartseed, and this time I was orbiting over the effective capital of the planet -- amusingly enough, Geneva. Well. If you could call sitting at exactly fifty kilometers directly over the capital building itself 'orbiting'. I dropped the anti-perception glamour and optical camouflage, and immediately began broadcasting the same message in every television and radio channel currently in use: "This is Mark Andes, Captain of the JLV Heartseed. I come in a mission of establishing diplomatic relations with the peoples of this Earth. I come in peace. I say again. I come in peace."

I set the message to repeat continuously until I got a response, and waited. I didn't have to wait all that long; within five minutes my hexagonal column floating in space was surrounded by eighty Manta ships, swarming around my ship in a rather remarkable rendition of the visual of what having jabbed a stick in a beehive would look like. None of them sent any transmissions I could detect, mind; they simply swarmed around, many actually strafing sideways as they did in order to ensure that at least twenty of them had me in a targeting solution of their weapons. Weapons that, admittedly, actually could do some damage to the hull of my ship in the volume of fire their numbers would involve… as long as I didn't activate my remaining defenses. Which I could actually do before said weapons impacted thanks to the Heartseed's sensors being able to detect the energy allocations of their vessels enough to know that their particle beam weapons were receiving power, yes, but not enough to actually fire them as yet. Basically the equivalent of removing the safety on a rifle but keeping your finger away from the trigger.

Fifteen minutes of this passed before I finally received a response. A rather harried looking man, with a scar along his eye, but otherwise in a fairly decently tailored three-piece suit, was actually broadcasting back in the frequency of what was basically the Resistance's equivalent of the BBC television channel. "This is President Michelson of the Free Earth Republic, to the unknown vessel above our government capital. You identify yourself as the JLV Heartseed. Please follow the escort about to arrive to a suitable landing location and prepare an envoy for diplomatic contact. We welcome you in the name of peace."

I cut all broadcast on any other channels, and retransmitted with enough signal-strength to cut through their broadcast on the government video channel. "Acknowledged, Free Earth Republic. JLV Heartseed will comply. Over and out."

I moved my corvette over to its designated coordinates -- a Manta hangar base, and made to land the ship. It would leave her in a somewhat more vulnerable position, as the biotic barrier design had never taken into account actually landing on something, but the virtual glass, general warding, and structural reinforcement -- not to mention the full meter of regenerating hull armor even without that -- all would still remain in place. I left the vessel in position for more than twenty minutes while I waited further instructions from the locals -- no point in needlessly antagonizing them -- before I finally gave up and just took a gander with the external opticals.

They were literally rolling out a red carpet to the front of the ship. I … didn't have a doorway there. Awkward. I took a chance and started cycling the airlock on the hexagonal side facing the majority of the landed Manta ships. That and some quick and dirty hackery with the cromatophore layer allowed a lightly glowing beacon showing where the hatch I'd actually be coming through would actually open up out of. It took less than a minute for the locals to notice what I'd done, and not more than another two to lay out the carpet in the correct location.

I could see that they were laying it on thick when I spotted no less than a full company of Marine honor guards complete with wooden practice rifles. (I did notice the particle weapon pistols in their belt holsters as well, but I wasn't going to complain about the distraction considering their weapons amounted to a security blanket. The anti-material sniper nests on the nearby control towers, the artillery emplacements, and the presumptively specops operatives in ghillie suits in the conspiciously unmaintained tall marshgrass nearby … well. These people had just gotten done fighting a war that cost over three quarters of their population to win. And besides. So long as the Core and the Needlecaster were intact, there was literally nothing these people could do to hurt me. I could afford a little indulgence.

Eventually, a timer started counting down from 10 above the hatch, and the outline of the hatch itself started gowing from a dull and mild red through the spectrum to a warm and pleasant green hue. At 0, the hatch opened, and four Hosts in military kit flitted out, to turn and stand to attention facing inwards. They were carrying rifles that were essentially platforms for highly scaled down Skrill Cannons, biotic effects included, with the structural material made from Host livingplastic formed and textured to appear like wood and bone. They also had regular Skrill weapons embedded into the armor forearms, but I felt no more inclined to make a fuss over that than I was over the 'honor guard''s carrying particle weapon pistols.

I, myself, exited the ship with only a concealed underlayer hardsuit over more conventional clothing, though it did look much like a traditional samurai kimono robe, albeit one that was notable for its lack of any heraldry and navy blue-on-white colorscheme, with palladium-thread frippery embedded along the lapel and cuffs. Not my choice of clothing options, by the way -- the Hosts seemed to think that if I was going to be a modern-era god-emperor, then I should wear the attire of one. It took them proactively stealing my entire warddrobe six times before I finally gave up and let them have the win.

I had to say that it was a decent choice of attire for extremely controlled habitats, and it certainly made concealing the underarmor layer very simple. At Smiley's behest, I disabled the anti-perception glamour on the diadem, however. The psychic "personal assistant" of the President who even now was making his way to me along the carpet was going to notice its presence in short order without question regardless, so there was no point in trying to conceal it. As I stepped out, the four Hosts that were my own personal bodyguards -slash- honorguards, in their bright baby blue and golden trimmed armor (colorscheme chosen for its impact on human psyche; those colors were never the ones the 'badguys' used, so clearly I must be on the side of angels…) snapped to attention, and the pair furthest from the Heartseed had the visors of their hardsuits snap up, allowing them to call out in a perfectly synchronized stentorian bellow.

"Behold! He arrives! The Liberator of the Hosts! The Redeemer of Mankind! The Protector of the Lamented! The God-Emperor of the Jovian League! And you be worthy, in his presence shall ye prosper! And you be attainted, in his presence shall ye falter! Behold!"

I wanted desperately to facepalm. Over the local mesh, I just growled at them. One had the temerity to toss a chuckle and a smirking emoji-wink at me over the same network, with the text, "It's not like we lied, Maker. You made your bed, now lie in it, your Worship."

I sighed with as much dignity as I could muster, and continued forward in a fairly stately pace, as my 'honor' guard followed in perfect lockstep with the two whose faceplates had lifted just a step ahead, and the two others just a step behind me -- a perfect diamond formation with me in the center. You'd think they'd trained for decades to pull this off. But I knew for a fact that this was an impromptu display pushed due to my spur-of-the-moment decision to make open contact with the Resistance.

The President paused in his approach towards me when his assistant tugged on his arm, an extremely briefly present annoyed look on his face turning quickly to a microexpression of surprise before being smothered back to that disciplined politician smile again. The audio pickups from the Heartseed heard what was said, but I didn't need them to know the gist of it: the aide was clearly telling the man that our minds were shielded as though they weren't even there, and that he couldn't get even an empathic sense of our intentions. Once we were about nine meters apart, the President called out in that same voice. "On behalf of the peoples of this Free Earth, I welcome you to our home in the spirit of peace and friendship. If you are using some concealment to alter your appearance, please know that only the Kromagg has anything to fear from us."

I smiled indulgently. "In my name, I offer my gratitude for your welcome, and offer you this promise of peaceful intention and the hope of friendship between our peoples. As to our appearance … well. I am in fact human."

The people present reacted visibly to this fact. Some relaxed at the thought of an ally capable of the kind of industry the Heartseed and our armor represented; some tensed up, obviously thinking about what has happened every time in human history a more advanced society made contact with a less advanced one. The President walked a fine line between those two ends. "So I see. Would you care to take this conversation to a more pleasant facility? The base here lacks for certain creature comforts, but I'm sure we can put something together."

My indulgent smile turned into a more genuine one. "Oh I should think that would be quite well received, Mister President. First, however, a minor technicality to get out of the way."

The President's smile turned brittle. "A technicality?"

I nodded. "Why, the guest-gift, of course." I snapped my fingers and the hatch of the Heartseed opened up further, as a conventional Altered-Carbon skycar -- well, shipping truck anyhow -- made its way out of the ship, to land in an open area somewhat behind me but in the line-of-sight of the President. "We have made some observation of your society, and have determined that a number of our technologies would be readily integrated into your own. As your Kromagg oppressors have left you with a small number that we ourselves have not possessed before now, we felt it would be appropriate to repay your people in exchange for our acquisition of that knowledge."

The President blanched. "Your words imply you've already obtained this technology from us."

I bowed in a somewhat dignified manner. "Well, yes. We will be discussing that detail as well -- included amongst the technologies we are offering are improved methods of guaranteeing the information security of open and closed networks. It would hardly due for your people to be so vulnerable to such intrusions moving forward."

The leader of the Free Earth Republic practically growled. Yeah -- you could see that he got his position by being a veteran leader. "You admit you penetrated our networks in so open a setting?"

I waved a hand in front of myself. "From orbit your Earth is largely indistinguishable from a Kromagg-dominated planet. When we discovered the truth of the miracle your people had accomplished, we knew that we had impinged on the sovereignty of a worthy people rather than a foe, and that recompense should be made in kind."

The man confronting me had little to say to that. He simply nodded his acceptance -- though obviously hesitant to do so -- and made an inviting sweep towards the control facility of the former Kromagg military staging base. Once we were away, however, from the prying eyes of journalists and their cameras, the man turned on me and took a far harsher tone of voice. "Alright, let's cut to the chase. Why are you really here, 'God-Emperor'? I'll warn you now, this Earth shall never be reconquered. Even if you have the means to dominate us, you'll get nothing but a dead world; to our last breath we will resist you."

I just laughed -- a warm one, not a mocking one. "Good! Good! That is why I have come, Mister Michelson. I wasn't lying before when I said you people had accomplished the literally impossible. One Earth successfully fighting to a standstill the military-industrial complexes of over two hundred worlds, without aid or assistance beyond their own determination? No, man, you can relax. I'm here to ensure your people remain free. I'm here, Michelson, to establish your Free Earth Republic as a multidimensional power."

He was taken aback by the openness of my words. "But … why? If you're sincere about the gap between your own culture and my own, what could we possibly offer you?"

I shook my head. "There are things lurking within the barriers between the realms, Michelson. Humanity holds a fragile and delicate grasp upon its own existence. Many of those things see us as little more than a light snack. My people are rather more advanced than yours, Mister Michelson, and I'm certainly not interested in fully rectifying that imbalance. But your government oversees two billion souls, and could stand to liberate more than a trillion from Kromagg oppression. I, despite the vainglorious naming scheme of my subjects, rule over barely more than three million people. I just don't have the numbers to help that many."

He eyed me at that. "And, what. You'll just leave us to fend for ourselves with those hazards, with a few trinkets and beads? Call yourself a benefactor and get in our goodwills, and then come for our children?"

I snorted. "Not at all. You can use or not use the gifts I'm going to give your people at your discretion. Use or not use the advice and assistance of the advisors I will leave behind and check in on from time to time to your benefit or not as you wish. It is my will and law that the citizenry of the Jovian League shall abandon all claim to all Earths. I have lost my homeworld, and can never return, sir. I only wish to ensure that a rare shining jewel does not fade into the night."

Michelson's eyes narrowed as he looked into the distance. He wasn't receiving any sort of transmission I could detect -- but I couldn't rule out psychic communication. Eventually, he looked back to me. "Well. I suppose for the moment there's not much we can do about your presence here but wait and see how it plays out. But know this, Emperor -- we will be watching you."

I grinned. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

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