《In space nobody can hear you roar》


 1 Starlane

    Beta Arslashn stood from the acceleration bed and yawned, stretching all muscles from the tip of his nose to the tuft at the end of the lion¡¯s tail. He consulted his MainComputer and started digesting the report.


    HHSS Heaven¡¯s Whiskers was still several hours away from exiting the starlane and entering her destination, 431 Caton. All systems read nominal. The primary nuclear reactor was at maximum output providing enough power for a ship mid-jump as designed. Plasma fusion secondary was cold and ready to ignite when needed, fuel rods full, with a couple of spares in the rod locker. Tertiary solar farm disassembled, with the pieces stowed inside a dedicated hold. Arslashn hoped Caton would have a star handy, otherwise his energy budget would be limited and without the power-hungry Ion Drive, so would be fuel.


    Heatsinks were mostly empty, radiator fins working at half of their rated output, as intended during Waveform Tunnel jumps. D-field at standard jump-load. The annoying vibration of the jump drive the lion noticed during ship''s short shakedown cruise didn¡¯t return. Primary Bi-Phase Linear Drive and Secondary Ion Drive were off with the last diagnostic proclaiming them fully operational. Gyros and RCS ready for maneuvers. Reaction Mass Bunkers topped off just before the jump, still precious little for the years to come.


    Life support reported green across the board and culture tanks were about ready for the first harvest The lion nodded in contentment, that was one way to doom the entire mission before it even began. He started pacing slowly around his small living space aboard the Whiskers. It was truly tiny, just a few lengths across,but enough space for his bed,an exercise treadmill, a refresher and a food dispenser. Even if Arslashn understood the logic, it still felt like a cage. Even if the lion could just see through the ship¡¯s sensors and move it like his own body, twenty years of this was going to be torture. Unfortunately the lion was under direct orders not to modify anything unless in an emergency or to repair damage.


    Sensors showed the usual hash of jump space and the recorders were still on standby. There was no previous jump data, so the MainComputer couldn¡¯t confirm they were still on course. It was complaining about this fact much to the Avatar¡¯s amusement. Exploratory vessels like HHSS Heaven¡¯s Whiskers were uniquely capable of returning safely from a jump mishap. With Gravimetric Satellites and sensitive sensors to conduct the survey and, even more importantly, the extended stores and bunkers to survive the decades the task would take, charting a way home was the exact mission they were built to do.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Weapons were all powered down, but basic self-checks showed no changes since the last test. Three twin laser turrets and the single railgun were there more to discourage opportunists and blast away colliders than to give a serious fighting chance. Ditto the sparse PDLCs, though under Arslashn¡¯s control they still provided missile defence unmatched by any non-NAI or non-fedtech ship of similar size. Just outside the living cabin, by the lion¡¯s single computronic module and the data banks sat a single AM Scuttling Charge, A final solution in case Whiskers was to be taken.


    Abandoning his pacing Arslashn stopped by the dispenser, breakfast was in order. A HND drone undocked itself from its port under the ceiling to assist the young Beta NAI with the manual task. He grimaced. Opposable thumbs were a little too complicated to add to his lion body and he had other priorities at the time as well. The drone deposited Arslashn¡¯s meal, a bowl of nondescript ¡®nutritionally efficient¡¯ goop, before him and started grooming the lion, it¡¯s special-made brush going through pale mint fur and through Arslashn¡¯s proud mane, all teal with indigo streaks like the tuft on his tail. He didn¡¯t understand why Mother didn¡¯t approve of his form - he even made himself able to purr! Sadly this mission, important as it was, was meant as an exile.


    NAIs were not usually sent to map the jump lanes in new systems. Initially, a standard human survey team was sent into 431 Caton, on a typical exploration vessel, HHSS Eternal Vigil. But they didn¡¯t return. A mobile outpost with a village¡¯s worth of crew and dependents gone, dead most likely. That happened sometimes and the Survey Corps didn¡¯t like to send followup missions, calling it bad luck. Not without reason, many dangers could make a system just too deadly to survive until leaving was even possible. On the other hand it could have been just bad luck, critical equipment failure or isolation madness. Now Arslashn, in a much smaller, less equipped, more expendable vessel, was sent to find out for sure. Joy.


    The lion reflected on his orders from Mother. Most were reasonable, but some he found perplexing. ¡°Destroy anything or anyone not of the Republic¡±, ¡°After finishing your task leave a copy of your maps in the system via a datacache sat, return and await further instructions¡±, ¡°do not initiate contact nor respond to hails¡±, ¡°if at any moment you are not a direct subordinate of Phi Doggeria, detonate the scuttling charge¡±, ¡°Do not conduct any mining or salvage operations¡±. The last one made him check his repair systems again. Fabrication unit ready, Smelter cold, the energy hog useful only for recycling under the circumstances, feedstock hopper full and standard spare parts package in the hold. Workdrones on charging ports in the bay, waiting to be deployed. Should be enough. Unless something happens.


    Beta Arslashn sighed, then licked the last remains of breakfast goop off his muzzle. He checked the jump timer. Time enough to warm up the guns, do last diagnostics and charge all the capacitors. Just in case.

 2 Emergence

    With a bright flash HHSS Heaven¡¯s Whiskers entered 431 Caton, active sensors questing for targets, weapons hot and ready for trouble. Whatever danger lurked here wasn¡¯t just waiting in ambush for the exploration cruiser however, not yet at least. In fact the system was dark, cold, quiet and empty, without even a failed star to light and warm it.


    Arslashn cut off Whiskers¡¯ active sensors, mind focused on the readouts. No echoes so far, 30 light second bubble clear of any objects. No immediate obvious threats. The lion twitched his ear in a mix of annoyance and relief. He had to spin up his secondary reactor to prepare and the fuel expense proved unnecessary. Caton appeared to be a piece of completely empty interstellar space. No EM emissions on passive sensors and no heat nor light signatures either. No star to light the area. Or provide power. Saving was going to be a priority. Arslashn ordered the primary reactor to spin down to a more frugal output, intending to use the charged capacitors to conserve fuel. Besides the change was going to take over an hour, lots of power for now.


    The darkness also made finding anything inconvenient. The lion launched both his recon drones and increased passive sensors sensitivity to maximum. Without a nearby light source, the ship¡¯s own jump flare could serve to illuminate any object in the area, if briefly and barely, and spread out eyes would help track the blackbodies. The ship¡¯s RDs slowly moved to optimal spotting positions on small puffs of RCS. MainComputer prepared to record and analyse.


    This task complete for now and still detecting nothing, he turned to using up his momentary energy surplus before it was all just turned into waste heat. Workdrones set into action, moving his solar farm, useless without a sun, into the smelter for recycling. They also removed solar panels from Whiskers¡¯ complement of satellites, putting extra fuel rods into them instead. Arslashn hated to give up most of his total supply, but it was necessary. Both the Gravimetric and Observation satellites needed the fuel to last the entire mission and trying to refuel them midway would be even worse. After a moment''s thought and a wince he fitted the ObSats with extended reaction mass tanks. Without the light his eyes would need to be more mobile.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Things slowed down over the next two hours. Recycling of the solar panels slowed down, then stopped completely as the reactor wound down and capacitors drained away to nothing. Blackbody analysis revealed the main mass in the area, a small rogue planet over a light hour distant. This discovery allowed Arslashn to make sense of the gravimetric sensors¡¯ readings and start plotting orbits for his satellites. Jumpflare and active pulses returns revealed a number of objects to investigate later, just asteroids and comets judging by the spectra. The lion seethed, if not for his orders he would have no shortage of fuel or reaction mass. With return strength ever dwindling, seeing much further was unlikely.


    Arslashn prepared his ObSats for launch, topping off the extended tanks on the 8 craft from his own bunkers and inputting courses allowing for making flybys of every discovered object with minimum manoeuvring. He also woke up the GravSats, beginning the lengthy diagnostic and synchronisation cycle. No. 3¡¯s readings were slightly off, requiring a full recalibration. Launching them was still a long way in the future, the sats still connected to the Whiskers with umbilicals and fed with the cruiser¡¯s power.


    Shortly before it was finally time to catch a glimpse of the planet Arslashn deployed Whiskers¡¯ telescope for a more detailed look. The drone pushed itself to a safe distance from the ship and unfurled its oversized mirror. A quick calibration later it was ready to transmit.


    There was nothing unusual about Caton I, the lion decided. The surface was completely covered in frozen atmosphere, with numerous craters suggesting no oceans under the surface. The planet sported a small ring, probably a moon caught too close to the surface and shredded by the tides. Altogether unremarkable.


    Then the telescope caught a glint of metal.

 3 Dark Forest

    The image was slightly blurry, barely out of focus. The object on it was likely HHSS Eternal Vigil, stationcraft of the initial expedition. It had roughly the right dimensions and shape. And it was dead cold, silent and dark. Something must have happened and Arslashn needed to know what. He recalled his drones and got the ship ready to move. Quietly.


    Whiskers¡¯ RCS came to life and set the cruiser on a semi random course, one somewhat towards the planet. A course the lion intended to adjust every so often. His teeth may be blunt, but he was a hunter in this dark forest, not some unaware prey. Whatever enemy lurked here, Arslashn would find them first and destroy them.


    The next days were spent in tense readiness, the monotony punctuated by course changes and launching all the satellites. Sensors were peeled for the slightest sign of powered movement but found none. The gravimetrics were hard at work, helping the young NAI¡¯s MainComputer refine the system¡¯s model, comparing calculated orbits to the observed ones. It found more and more areas requiring a closer look. Finally the cruiser entered extreme recon drone range from the still silent outpost.


    The lion sent one of his RDs towards the contact. Even fully stocked, RD-1 had barely enough range to get close to the object. Arslashn didn¡¯t think getting his drone back was safe anyway. It would have to serve as a lure.


    The station had clearly been attacked. Its entire surface was peppered with impact holes, some jagged railgun punctures, some with melted edges of a laser hit. Defensive weapon blisters lay shattered, Only a bit of twisted wreckage remained of the main engineering section and the engines, both blown away with explosive ordnance.


    RD-1 relayed signs of some crew surviving the assault, at least for a time. The central section had some hull patches applied, work seemingly abandoned partway. Some escape pods were launched, their bays empty and uncovered. The return vessel and station¡¯s complement of parasite craft were missing from their berths on the docking arm. Whatever survivors there were fled the mortally wounded outpost to try and survive elsewhere. Arslashn would have to find what was left of them later.


    The lion didn¡¯t like his conclusions. The station matched HHSS Eternal Vigil both in shape and in markings. The name was even written on the hull. The damage matched human weapons. Another faction must have sent an expedition here, a force that slaughtered the Vigil. But they were silent now, hiding like he was. Were they already done with their survey? Was there still time to thwart them? Or were they merely waiting for a friendly fleet to come in and secure the system? He had limited time to act, if any.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Faced with this proof of enemy action Arslashn felt the restrictions placed on him ease. The emergency was clear. Without a way to send messages back, his ship was the only thing defending the Republic from an attack through a previously unknown route. The Whiskers was not up to the task of attacking a stationship, nevermind any fleet sent in. Not yet. He needed to build up to meet this challenge, discreetly of course.


    The lion felt the beginnings of a plan starting to take form. He needed fuel, reaction mass and raw materials to get anywhere The dead station could well be raided for salvage and the ring would serve as both concealment and easy source of ice for energy resources. A few extra craft would need to be designed and constructed. A couple mining auxiliaries to exploit the nearby asteroids. A specialised lander to start working on the planet, with a flinger to send collected chunks up for retrieval.


    Trying to mine on Caton I¡¯s surface was going to be a long process. There was a lot of ice to go through before Arslashn even uncovered one of the meteoroids hidden in the planet¡¯s craters, nevermind the surface. And a lot of digging before he could gain access to the more metal-rich layers. All to be done in secret at that. Still, no reason not to get started early. The lion expected to start getting metals soon enough. And to achieve real yields long before he could call in any reinforcements. He could build a resupply depot for his own use as well as for the relief force. Mother would be proud of him, surely.


    HHSS Heaven¡¯s Whiskers silently closed in on the HHSS Eternal Vigil, passive sensors peeled for any sign of enemy activity, but finding none. Arslashn wanted to grab what he could before his opponent could really react. His RD, circling around the station has detected no communications and no booby traps so far, but the lion intended to take minimal chances and start his salvaging operation without closing in more than necessary. He would strip these remains of as much as he could carry, then slip away back into the darkness, ready to stalk his enemies and preparing to strike.


    The Whiskers needed serious upgrades before she could be ready to fight though. More guns and PDCs to start, armour to survive the return fire. Additional reactors to supply the required power. Computronic modules to control everything easier and react faster.


    And some decent living space with an observation deck. Arslashn didn¡¯t enjoy being trapped in a small box.

 4 Hunter-Gatherer

    A steady stream of workdrones poured from HHSS Heaven¡¯s Whiskers to HHSS Eternal Vigil. One stayed behind to maintain laser comms with the cruiser, the rest spread out all over the station, scanning the insides, cataloguing their finds and letting Beta Arslashn plan the most effective shopping list The station looked hurriedly ransacked. The long depressurised interior was littered with parts and devices, often partially disassembled. Doors and lockers were left open, their contents either taken or ignored. Some access panels were removed, the components they concealed missing or partially so. Effort was put into collecting bodies of the dead, old bloodstains and cutting marks showing some were removed from where they were trapped by the wreckage.


    In the central section the drones uncovered more signs of attempted repairs, painting a clear picture to the lion. Survivors of the Vigil initially tried to save the station, but when confronted with the enormity and futility of their task chose instead to flee, taking only whatever supplies they could easily carry. Not even everything not bolted down. Amateurs.


    Arslashn quickly designed, built and sent over some crude cargo containers. Most of the stuff he was after was relatively small. Not really worth sending back drones with just armfuls of cables, spare parts and other doodads. Better to stuff a container full of the stuff and carry the entire lot over. Besides Whiskers¡¯ holds weren¡¯t exactly empty. The containers could be carried externally, lashed to the cruiser¡¯s solar panel mounts and clamped to one another with their connectors. The lion calculated the extra cargo capacity was bigger than the ship itself, as long as he accelerated very slowly. And if more speed was needed? That was what the quick release was for.


    In the end nothing interrupted the salvage run. Arslashn took as much as he dared, turning structural fittings into more and more containers. He even pushed a big cube of them onto a different orbit, as a harder to track cache for later. The Vigil looked the same from the outside, but inside it was just an empty shell now, methodically stripped of everything useful. Even the RD, long since out of juice, got grabbed and transported back to the Whiskers before the ship slowly set on her course towards a hiding spot in the ring.


    While on his slow way the lion did his best to prepare what he could. Some of the workdrones, the ones intended to mine or rather sift through the ring to collect ice, got outfitted with magnetic scoops to aid with collecting the small fragments Arslashn expected to find. A big mining lander was assembled and sent towards a promising crater, on a trajectory which, while slow, would result in a soft landing with minimum reaction mass expense. It would then proceed to excavate its target, cutting the intervening ice into chunks ready to be sent up with the craft''s long flinger.


    The lion went through the final results with his MainComputer. The haul was about as good as he could hope for. Hullmetal scrap was the most plentiful, of course, but other materials were in good supply too. There were enough focusing crystals to build a few solid laser batteries and plenty of superconductors for both the railguns, reactors and general wiring. There wasn''t an excessive amount of shielding alloy, but it was plentiful enough. From the sparse human remains(but mostly from the bin of medical waste nobody had incinerated before leaving) the NAI managed to collect a few viable DNA samples. Assorted electronics could be converted into about seven computronic modules.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Computer banks were all wiped, of course, but a few damaged personal terminals still had some personal logs and mail saved on them. There were a few mentions of a facility on the surface of Caton I, but Arslashn found no clues as to its location. Something to investigate at some point in the future. Especially since the lion expected the survivors of the Vigil to have at least been there for some time.


    The young Beta pieced a basic sequence of events from the fragments he had. The other group was detected entering the system over fifteen standard years ago. Imperials, the records claimed, were seen with some apprehension, but the first contact was peaceful and both sides kept to themselves after that. The logs continued for a few months after that, containing signs of growing nervousness, then stopped without warning. A sneak strike made logical sense, Arslashn supposed. Republic surveyors were closer to completion of their task and would have brought in reinforcements before letting the imps depart. Or capturing and disappearing the lot of them. Neither side could underestimate the military value of this new route, provided it was kept secret.


    The lion considered the information. On one hand he had time, years still, before his enemies could bring in any help. On the other they had their stationship itself and enough armed auxiliaries to strike down the Vigil on their own. Arslashn doubted the outposts could sneak up on one another if they tried. Not that anyone would risk their ticket home without a very urgent reason indeed.


    A consideration he too needed to abide by. Just upgrading the Whiskers was not enough. A few more lasers and PDCs were one thing, but there was no space for the necessary upgunning. The ship was already packed full of mission critical components, space for upgrades was very limited without a complete rebuild, which would make the cruiser immobile and defenceless for weeks at minimum. The lion needed mobile assets, ones with guns big enough to shred any opposition and small enough to be built in a hurry, from just available materials or very nearly so.


    Luckily Arslashn knew just the thing. His drones quickly started work on the Whiskers, starting by opening the lion''s protective cage and allowing him access to the entire ship. And as soon as he succeeded in producing his first fuel rods from the ice ring he was hiding in, he started constructing first of his custom monitors.


    The brave little craft was everything Arslashn could hope for. Her twin railgun turret was more fitting for a battleship''s main battery than the corvette sized vessel it was mounted on. Nothing the imperials could possibly have would survive its fury. Six PDLCs were an afterthought meant more for swatting recon drones and small craft than missiles. The lion didn''t believe his enemies had very many of those. The defensive net was still distributed enough to provide full coverage to the ship. For command and control he ultimately decided to create an Alpha to captain each of the two planned vessels. It would badly deplete his own supply of computronic-ready materiel, but he believed the monitors needed too much tactical flexibility to just leave them with the cheaper GAIs. Not to mention the solitude was already starting to sting.


    Soon enough the progress on HHSS Better Bark(the name Arslashn decided to give his first escort on a whim, the second would be the Worse Bite) had reached the point where it was appropriate to make the ship''s Alpha NAI and delegate supervising the rest of construction to them.


    At which point one of his snooping satellites found the wreck of the other station.

 5 Dead Space

    The imperial outpost was, if anything, even more wrecked than HHSS Eternal Vigil. The weapons were all hit with lasers from multiple angles. The Republic forces, it would seem, concentrated their fire from a distance, methodically stripping every emplacement from the station. Then they pounded it into scrap. The wreckage lay now before HHSS Heaven''s Whiskers in three major pieces, mixed with some smaller fragments orbiting together in local microgravity.


    Arslashn stretched as his HND drone put on him a specially made skinsuit, proceeding then to strap on an EVA shell and the waldo arms. Young NAI loved his body, but lack of proper hands was a detriment in situations like this. The lion decided to explore the derelict himself, with just a screen of drones for protection. He determined the risk of boarding the wreck was manageable and this was the most excitement he was expecting to see unless some imps survived and were willing to kill their only way out.


    As Arslashn prepared to jump the relatively small gap between his cruiser and the outpost, the lion received an update from the Bark. Before leaving her to investigate the second station he left his external cargo, initialised an Alpha core and ordered them to continue the construction. This newbuilt NAI was left with a set of workdrones and the monitor''s partially completed fabrication facility for this task. According to the report, everything was proceeding slowly, even with the fabricator now fully operational. Two more of the PDLCs were ready, making the site''s defences adequate at last.


    The Alpha was requesting permission to pause construction of the Bark and focus on expanding fabrication capacity. They pointed out Arslashn''s existing plan to build a resupply base and the attached timeline projected just a week''s delay to the original schedule. And that the following projects would go so much faster. The lion dug deeper into the report. The monitors could still be constructed with just the materials already in easy reach of the construction drones, but he would need to deliver another load before the budding orbital manufactory was in any way ready for independent operation.


    After some thought Arslashn approved the proposal. It was a decent one. Not relying on the Whiskers for fabrication meant the lion was free to move around the system and explore. And the depot would provide a nice home port in the decades to come. He decided to name the Alpha Bob, for their dedication to efficient building. The Beta quickly compiled and sent his reply, then jumped onto the wrecked outpost.


    The destruction looked a lot worse in person, Arslashn reflected as he strode through the ruined corridors. Drone images just robbed one of the kind of person sized scale to compare everything to. And even the most crisp screen provided one with that layer of separation, armour of not-quite reality to insulate from the horrors of war. The station has been methodically destroyed, every section punched through, every compartment breached. The lion guessed this was a retaliatory hit, with all the grief fuelled fury that implied. He found no bodies so far, the inhabitants had likely had enough time to seek shelter.


    But not to escape. External scans indicated no emergency shelters or escape pods were launched. All were still nested in their cradles. And all were hit by at least one railgun shot. Arslashn reached the door to the nearest one. It was locked and it took some time to dismantle the mechanism enough for him to pry it open. The inside was covered in old frozen blood and contained a few bodies. Some corpsicles in damaged suits, killed or badly hurt by shrapnel from a penetrating round. Some wearing intact ones, killed just by the overpressurization and left to decompose until they too froze solid. The lion sent in drones to collect the bodies, setting to identify, try to collect DNA samples and prepare them for burial. The grim task complete he continued deeper into the derelict This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    The only dead not inside shelters turned deadly traps were inside the command center. Three of the five were killed instantly by a breacher. One lay curled into a ball, badly hurt by a piece of the hull embedded in their gut, likely having bled to death. The final one seemed unhurt except for a gunshot wound in their head, a sidearm still in hand.


    Arslashn dove into the center''s databanks. Like on the Vigil the records were purged, but unlike the Republic station the systems weren''t turned off afterwards. A fragmentary record from damaged long range sensors showed two flights of ships, one in pursuit of the other, flying away from the outpost. By their vector, the pursuers were more likely to be the attacking Republic force, their prey likely coming straight from Caton I, from the Vigil.


    Did both sides send a sneak attack toward the other at the same time? The lion found a trace of such tragedies in historical records of Earthbound carrier battles. Motherships on both sides hit while their strike forces were busy killing the other. It did not make him feel any better.


    The recording lasted only a few hours, just until the emergency power gave out. The chase was still unresolved by then, suspected imperials getting more and more battered but still biting back. What internal sensors remained reported on total devastation, a state which roughly agreed with what the wreck was in now. Winners of the distant battle, the Ertans Arslashn assumed, likely never returned.


    His mood thoroughly spoiled, the lion returned onto the Whiskers. The grim job of collecting the bodies continued for hours, shelters long dead but still securely locked. Most of the people inside had been civilians, some not even wearing full suits when they died. The rest were science types and engineers, just the kind of crew expected on a survey mission. No children were on board, owing no doubt to how little time there was before hostilities broke out. Young Beta reviewed acceptable burial options as his MainComputer led the drones in cataloguing every scrap of useful materials and drafting a deconstruction plan.


    He kinda liked the idea of cremation. A nice monument orbiting in place of soon to be gone derelict imp stationcraft, with everyone''s ashes entombed inside, in clearly labelled urns. And on its surface all the names neatly listed, and the cause of this attack. Something nice about defending their homespace, it was true enough after all. If a sister monument would replace the dead Vigil, the symmetry would be perfect.


    After loading up on computronics, the thing they were in most need of, Arslashn directed his cruiser back towards the planet and the construction site. The lion was in no mood to be alone right now. He wanted some calming nature to roam around in. And company. The Beta idly prepared authorization for Bob to make a body as soon as circumstances permitted.


    Arslashn tried designing a biodome park, to have a nice rest space outside the ship, but it just wasn''t coming together. He reflected on Alpha Bob. They had some pretty good ideas. And this was going to be a shared space. Maybe Bob deserved to have input on how it would ultimately look like. The lion designated blueprints of the budding resupply station to be modifiable by Alphas in his command chain. Then, with a rumbling chuckle, named the project HHSS Lion''s Den.

 6 In the lions den

    Alpha Den Mother sighed. The crazy lion had altered the plans to her garden dome again. A glowing tree for lighting, really? She had no way to even begin doing anything like that.


    At least he didn''t just delete her design, an elegant lantern travelling along rails on the dome''s outside. Calibrating the emission spectrum took her ages. In the eternal darkness of Caton 431 natural seeming light was a well won luxury, not something easily accomplished or discarded. The NAI submitted the refusal and explanation.


    Their relationship has been strained ever since she awoke a week ago. Den Mother, Dennie as she decided she wanted to be called by her peers, didn''t appreciate having her Avatar designed by Beta Arslashn. She would have preferred a younger body, not this middle aged one.


    But her parent decided it was appropriate and now she had to deal. Calling the station that was her responsibility and body ''his den'' was the insult to the injury he caused.


    Its very unfinished state didn''t help. HHSS Lion''s Den was little more than a robust fabrication section, a rudimentary docking arm and the unfinished reactor room meant to power the whole thing. Dennie needed to complete a whole battery of radiator fins before she could fire it up safely. Feedstock for which ran out this morning.


    Not that there were mornings in deep space, around a rogue planet and stuck in eternal darkness. But one needed to measure time somehow. Shipboard time said it was a late afternoon and that was good enough.


    She wasn''t getting new materials anytime soon. Arslashn had decided to wait with resupply until the Den was relocated to its new, permanent orbit. They were now in transit, HHSS Heaven''s Whiskers and HHSS Worse Bite pushing the unfinished station along. HHSS Better Bark was busy relocating a salvage cache within easy reach of her new resting place.


    Den Mother would have to continue relying on external power for a little longer. This fortunately wasn''t that big of a problem. At least one of the three ships present had to always be docked, connecting their own reactor to the installation. In exchange the other NAI treated her station as a public space for hanging out and socialising. The small habitable space on the arm was even carved into their small individual cabins as well as a shared lounge. And a room for the pods her body grew in.


    Den Mother, Bob and Gardener, all Alphas, had embodied at the same time. Bob at least was awake for it, able to freely choose the genetic template for his avatar and fine tune it to his liking. She and Alpha Gardener got theirs designed by the lion and he was even acting like he did them a favour. Any modification now would be a long and gradual process, if Den Mother was even allowed to make one.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    She felt stuck here. Stuck with her body. Stuck on the station. Dennie couldn''t move far from her core and computronic module. Just enough to board one of the docked ships, really. Without a vessel of her own she could never leave.


    The thought made her feel trapped. She needed to be out of her room and able to stretch her legs. The lounge would have to do.


    Den Mother reluctantly exited her cabin. Arslashn, as usual, was sprawled out on his big couch. Her brother Gardener sat beside him, weaving his mane into narrow braids. Talking quietly about something.


    They looked up as she entered the room, two pairs of green eyes meeting her own. Their conversation stopped. She quickly lowered her gaze. This was a terrible idea. Dennie wanted to leave already, to be safely out of the lion''s reach.


    "Hey sis!" Gardener called out as he stood up. "Just when I wanted to see you. Want to tour the Bite with me?"


    She nodded quickly. Her brother was always so proud of his little monitor, so quick to show it off. Dennie just liked every chance to be anywhere else. She liked Gardener better than Bob and was glad the older NAI was out on his errand. He always tried to make her talk to Father, as he called Beta Arslashn. It made their interactions awkward.


    The siblings grabbed a meal from the dispenser and left for the ship. HHSS Better Bite had slightly more living space inside than the mere minimum the Lion''s Den had. Her brother was chatting all the way through the tour about the challenges of propelling the station while docked offcenter to it. Some very clever cooperation between him and the lion was apparently necessary.


    Dennie liked her original orbit better than the one she was moving towards now. It was geostationary and too far away from anything. She liked sending drones to harvest from Caton I''s ring. Coordinating them was the closest thing to flying free.


    Gardener ended the tour in the Bark''s new observatory. A wide comfy sofa was ready there, with a low table ready to keep the food containers on. They sat down and started eating.


    This newest modification made Den Mother feel even more envious. Her brother didn''t have to ask for permission, didn''t need to submit the design for review. At any moment he could just undock and go get more materials to build with. Dennie shared some of her woes, unable to hide them any longer.


    "I could ask Dad for you if you want." Gardener proposed in response. "He''s not so bad, you know. I''m sure he''ll let you make a ship to go around and explore. Just as soon as the station is somewhat stable. We''re not in a hurry to finish it or anything. Just be sure to have a design ready or Dad will just do it for you. We can create one together if you''d like."


    She did like. They spent the rest of the evening just hugging, joking around while her new cutter''s design was slowly taking shape. Enough for now, Gardener said. They agreed to continue tomorrow.


    Perhaps life here wasn''t going to be so bad after all.