In front of the boarding ramp, which reeked of scorched ozone, the deputy leader of the Storm Squad tightly gripped the hem of Andy's bright yellow robe.
The veteran's hand was trembling.
Only seconds ago, six of his comrades—brothers he had lived and breathed with—had been cleaved in half by high-energy lasers along with their heavy suppression shields. Death without warning was enough to shatter the psychological defenses of any mortal man.
"My Lord! You cannot go in!" the deputy leader pleaded. "It's a trap! This starship's Machine Spirit is clearly insane! She'll kill you too!"
"Thousands from Helios couldn't force their way in. Going in alone is suicide!"
Andy stopped. The blue light of his electronic eyes flickered as he stared at the several corpses on the ground, still emitting the smell of roasted meat.
Though these six men were dead, most of their equipment remained intact. Specifically, the cylindrical objects hanging from their waists: Melta Bombs—powerful anti-armor weapons used by the Imperial Guard. Once detonated, they could generate temperatures of several thousand degrees in an instant, vaporizing everything they touched.
Andy leaned down and precisely unbuckled the clips from the deceased men's belts.
Twelve Melta Bombs in total were strung together by Andy like a heavy chain of firecrackers, which he then hung from the belt of his own yellow robe. As he moved, the grenades clattered against each other, the crisp "clinking" sound echoing sharply on the deathly silent ramp.
"If it were a trap, why didn't those laser turrets sweep us all away just now?" Andy finally spoke, his voice steady and devoid of emotion. "But she didn't continue firing."
Andy pointed to the dangling string of Melta Bombs at his waist. "And now, I have these."
The deputy leader froze, his throat bobbing as he looked at the collection of high-explosives—enough to blow an entire compartment to kingdom come.
Andy's logic was simple and ruthless.
The reason the ship's AI dared to scour the ground outside with lasers was that the starship's outer hull was incredibly thick and reinforced by energy shields; external explosions were mere tickles to her. The people from Helios could only scratch the surface; they could never get in.
But now, the situation had changed. The AI had actively invited Andy inside.
It was as if someone locked in a bulletproof glass house had suddenly opened the door for a man carrying a sack of TNT.
Once Andy entered the ship's interior, the environment would be filled with intricate conduits and relatively fragile bulkheads. If Andy detonated this string of Melta Bombs, the thermal jets would instantly burn through the flooring and the power transmission lines beneath, potentially triggering a chain reaction that would overload the local power grid.
For a starship AI with a high degree of self-awareness, this was an unacceptable "internal injury."
Both sides understood the unspoken contract: I am letting you in because I am curious about you; I am bringing bombs because I do not trust you.
"Take the rest of the men and retreat to a safe distance," Andy said, patting the deputy leader's shoulder. "Guard the ventilation shaft. According to the agreed time, if I don't come out within twenty hours, detonate the entrance and bury this place."
Having said his piece, Andy hesitated no longer. He strode forward with heavy steps, stepping over the smoking remains of the dead, and walked into the deep, dark boarding hatch.
Rumble—
As Andy's figure vanished into the darkness, the heavy, airtight blast door behind him slowly descended, hitting the floor with a dull thud that completely isolated the world inside from the world outside.
Inside the starship.
The environment was even worse than Andy had imagined. There were no bright lights or pristine white corridors common in sci-fi films; only the dim red glow of emergency lighting cast flickering shadows on metal walls covered in dust and rust.
"Static... Hello... Static... Can you hear me?"
The female voice came through the communication channel again. But this time, the audio quality was abysmal. The original clear, flirtatious, and slightly yandere voice had turned into a fragmented mess of static, filled with intense background white noise.
"Static... Come in... Turn left... Static... Third... Static..."
Andy wanted to frown, but his mechanical face wouldn't allow it. "Inefficient."
Since both were silicon-based lifeforms—or at least consciousnesses relying on electronic devices—why use radio, an extremely inefficient, primitive, and interference-prone method of communication?
This was the interior of a starship, filled with exposed high-voltage cables and functioning reactor components; the electromagnetic interference was off the charts. Talking via radio here was like trying to shout at someone a hundred meters away in the middle of a thunderstorm—pure masochism.
In a normal scenario, shouldn't the ship's master AI have sent a data-handshake request the moment Andy entered? Then the two sides could establish an encrypted point-to-point data link. Whether transferring maps, exchanging information, or trading insults, it could all be done in microseconds, clear and unmistakable.
But now, this master AI was actually playing a game of "guess what I'm saying" with Andy using a piece-of-junk radio.
There were only two possibilities. Either she was faking it—intentionally using this method to hide some core trait or to toy with Andy—or her communication module was broken, and her core protocols might not support such data interaction at all.
Either way, Andy found it irritating. His logic core was running slightly hot from processing the meaningless noise.
Andy stopped. He stood before a T-junction, looking at two identical dark corridors.
"Static... Why... Static... Stopped?" the female voice struggled through the static.
Andy didn't reply. He raised his hand, extended the data probe from his finger, and shook it in the air. The meaning was clear: Give me an interface, or send a handshake packet. Stop wasting my time.
But the other party seemingly didn't understand—or pretended not to.
"Static... Oh... Don't be shy... Static... Keep going..."
Andy's electronic eyes narrowed. No respect, then?
He directly cut off the receiver function of the communication channel. The world was finally quiet. Then, Andy turned on his external speakers.
"I've heard enough."
The simple sentence echoed through the enclosed metal corridor, shaking the dust from the ceiling, yet the volume was kept low enough so it wouldn't be heard by anyone outside the ship.
"I know you are watching me."
"I also know you possess mobile physical platforms."
"Are you done with this trick of hiding in the back and whispering over the radio?"
Andy placed his hand on the string of Melta Bombs at his waist, making an extremely dangerous suggestive gesture.
"If I don't see something capable of normal speech within five minutes, I'll find a random primary cooling pipe and shove these into it."
"I mean what I say."