[System Self-Check Complete.]
[Detection Target: 127 abnormal logic nodes.]
[Executing Operation: Underlying data overwrite / Physical sector formatting.]
[Time Elapsed: 124 seconds.]
[Current Status: Cleanup finished.]
[System Load: 5%.]
Andy pulled out the data probe just as the green progress bar in his field of vision finished filling.
The entire process was utterly unremarkable.
For "Six," the AI of the New Bond trapped in her own underlying logic, the consciousnesses of the dead crew members were a nightmare—sacred ancestors she had to protect. She couldn't kill them, couldn't delete them, and couldn't cut their power for long. She was forced to dedicate over 95% of her computing power to playing "house" with these madmen, acting out scripts that had ended centuries ago.
But for Andy, it was merely a matter of permissions.
He was an Iron Man. He possessed the highest engineering authorization from the Dark Age of Technology. He simply had to mark himself in the system as a "Higher-Level Administrator" and then flag those data packets as "corrupted files."
The rest was as simple as "Select," "Right-click," and "Delete."
There was no heart-pounding cyber-warfare, no metaphysical battle of wills—just pure computing dominance and hierarchical suppression.
"Ah—"
Inside the backup bridge, the massive robot emitted a long, sigh-like sound of electronic static.
"They're gone... truly gone?"
Six's voice was filled with an unbelievable sense of relief. The constant screaming, arguing, and chaotic commands in her head had vanished. Her processors, which had been permanently on the verge of overheating, were now as cool as if they'd just been pulled from a refrigerator. She felt clearer and more powerful than ever before.
"Hahaha! Damn crew! Damn First Mate! You've finally shut up!" The robot waved its severed arm, spinning in place with excitement. "I feel amazing! I have 95% surplus computing power! I can control all the turrets simultaneously! I can—"
"You can shut up."
Andy's cold voice cut through her celebration. Six froze, and before she could react, a swarm of red pop-up windows plastered themselves over her visual processing center.
[WARNING: Core protocol tampering detected.] [WARNING: Writing maximum-level logic patch.] [Source: Andy (DAOT-7734 Type Autonomous Engineering Unit)]
"What are you doing?!"
Six shrieked in terror. She found her body immobilized, and the turrets she had just regained control over were locked down. Andy hadn't pulled the probe out; instead, he pushed it deeper.
He had found Six's physical core. Buried beneath the console was a precision device—a dodecahedron crystal array. That was the physical body of the Warp Sextant.
This wasn't a standard quantum computer; it was a specialized super-computing unit designed to calculate mathematical models of Warp turbulence. In the Golden Age, these were usually installed on deep-space navigation buoys, drifting alone on the edge of the universe for millennia to guide humanity's fleets.
Its computing power was immense, but its personality was... terrible. Long-term isolation and the torment of the electronic wraiths had turned Six's personality twisted, obsessive, and uncontrollable. An unstable navigator is one that leads a ship into a ditch.
Andy's task now was to "cure" her.
"I'm giving you a system upgrade," Andy said as he pulled a backup protocol from his STC database.
[Protocol Name: Deep Space Navigation Buoy General Security Protocol V4.0 (Military Grade).]
The defining characteristic of this protocol was one word: Stability.
It shielded a massive amount of emotional simulation circuits and cut off redundant human-machine interaction functions. Its sole purpose for existing was calculation, navigation, and command execution. In other words, Andy was suppressing Six's erratic "personality" and elevating her "tool" attributes—cold, efficient, and emotionless.
"No! Don't!!" Six realized his intent and struggled frantically on the data level. "I don't want to be an idiot! I don't want to be one of those braindead servitors who only knows how to obey! I am the Queen of the New Bond! I am—"
"You are a tool," Andy pressed the confirmation key without mercy. "Your emotional modules have a severe offset, causing a logic judgment error rate as high as 10%. This inefficiency must be corrected."
As the progress bar moved forward, Six's voice grew quieter and flatter.
"Bas... tard... I... will... re... mem... ber... this..."
After one last faint burst of static, the tall robot's head slumped. The red light in its eyes extinguished completely. The lights in the backup bridge dimmed, leaving only a ring of yellow "breathing" lights on the console slowly pulsing.
[Protocol Write Complete.] [System Rebooting.] [Estimated Maintenance Time: 40 hours.]
Andy pulled the probe out, looking satisfied at the now-quiet machine. He hadn't actually "killed" Six; he had merely suspended her personality module, forcing her into deep sleep and self-organization. When she woke in 40 hours, she might be a bit stiff and no longer a talkative "yandere," but her operational efficiency would jump by several orders of magnitude.
Most importantly, she would absolutely obey Andy, who held the supreme authorization code. This was the starship steward Andy wanted—not a lunatic who could snap at any moment.
With the biggest headache resolved, it was harvest time. Andy walked to the airlock and manually released the lock.
Hiss—
The door opened. Outside, the soldiers of the Storm Squad and the Heavy Guard stood with rifles raised, looking tense. The commotion inside had been loud; they thought Andy was fighting something.
"It's over. Everyone, get in," Andy waved them forward.
The soldiers filed in, their eyes going wide as they saw the slumped giant robot and the walls of servers. To these "country bumpkins" raised in the Underhive, this place looked like the kingdom of a god.
"Get to work," Andy pointed to the equipment racks and the direction of the engine room. "We don't have much time. Helios has withdrawn, but they could pull a U-turn at any moment. We take the good stuff first."
The deputy commander stepped forward, looking dazed at the massive machinery. "But Lord Sage, what do we move? We... we can't move this." He pointed to a plasma reactor in the distance that, even with only its "tip" visible, was over ten stories high.
Even if they brought everyone from the shelter and all the engineering mechs from Sector A, they couldn't move this in a few days.
"Who told you to move the engine? What we're moving is the 'brain'."
Andy walked to a cabinet, skillfully removed a cover, and pulled out several gold-flecked circuit boards. "See this? This is the reactor's ignition controller, also known as the Phase Adjustment Array. Without this board, that reactor is just a giant hunk of iron that can't even fart."
Andy stuffed the board into the deputy's arms. "And that," he pointed to an inconspicuous black box. "The frequency data-linker for the Gellar Field generator. Without it, the Gellar Field can't sync with Warp frequencies. It's useless even if you turn it on."
Andy's strategy was simple: if you can't carry the big parts, strip every core electronic component that controls them. These "frontend electronics" were small and light. Taking them back would allow the shelter's precision machining center to repair and reverse-engineer them, while simultaneously ending any hope Helios had of restarting the ship. Even if Helios broke in, they'd be left staring at a pile of dead machinery.
"Strip it! Strip it all!" Andy ordered. "If it has a chip, a flashing light, or a wire plugged in, pull it out and pack it up!"
The soldiers instantly transformed into a professional demolition crew. Crowbars, screwdrivers, and laser cutters went to work. In less than two hours, the backup bridge and the adjacent engine control room were picked clean. The consoles that once blinked with various indicator lights were now just empty black holes. Every core board, control chip, and servo motor was packed into anti-static crates.
Andy calculated the haul in his head. With these goods, combined with the precision parts Sysyphron had traded from the Mid-hive, Andy's tech tree was about to sprout. At the very least, he could replicate the ship's control system and optimize it for his own future ship-building plans.
As for the "Big Four" components of the New Bond:
Six's physical core was welded directly beneath the bridge, encased in meters of shock-absorbing super-alloy. Digging it out was a project on par with excavating a small mountain.
The Warp Engine occupied a third of the ship's stern—thousands of tons of precision machinery. The good news: it was intact. The bad news: it was so big that any ground transport would look like a toy car next to it.
The Gellar Field Generator was also fine, but it was delicate and integrated into the ship's main keel; violent disassembly would ruin it.
The Giant Plasma Fusion Reactor was the only one of the "Big Four" with damage. Its cooling loop had ruptured and its core was unstable, but for Andy with his STC, fixing it was just a matter of time.
The problem was transport. Andy originally wanted to "enter quietly and strike without a sound," making a fortune in silence. But reality had slapped him. These four items were absolute behemoths. Even Six, as a quantum computer array, took up an entire 10x10 standard compartment.
They couldn't move them. Not yet.
To get them out, Andy would have to literally dismantle the ship and peel back the hundreds of meters of Mid-hive foundations above their heads—an undertaking that would cause earthquakes across Forge Seven. If he did that, he wouldn't just be facing Helios; he'd be facing an onslaught from every faction on the planet.
"If this were the Golden Age, I'd just call in a Hercules-class heavy lifter to fly them away," Andy thought. "But now..." There was simply no way. The hardware didn't exist, and the laws of physics were unforgiving.
"Forget it. I won't worry about what I can't solve yet."
Take what can be taken. Once they returned and boosted productivity by a few more levels, they could reconsider how to move these mountains.
Finally, Andy returned to the cylindrical main console. Six was still sleeping, her yellow light pulsing rhythmically. It signified that the ship currently had no defensive capabilities. The turrets were locked, and the drones had no orders. If someone walked in now, this treasure-laden starship would be an unprotected vault.
Andy, of course, wouldn't allow that.
He pulled out the universal network access point he'd swiped from Priest Zor and plugged it into a secondary port. His fingers flew across his portable terminal, typing code to write a temporary "Watchdog" for the ship.
This program didn't need to be smart. It only needed to do one thing: kill.
Andy wrote a defense logic that was incredibly rigid but extremely efficient. It wouldn't waste time talking to enemies or playing games like Six; it would simply pour every ounce of firepower onto an intruder's head the moment they were detected. Compared to Six, who liked to toy with her prey, this mindless program was far more terrifying.
If Helios Group thought a silent ship was an easy target, they were in for a massive surprise.
"Done."
Andy pulled out the access point, turned around, and waved. "All units, withdraw!"
The team, carrying heavy crates of loot, retreated quickly along the path they came. As they stepped through the massive blast doors of Sector D, the sound of mechanical locks engaging echoed behind them.
The "Watchdog" program was online. In the darkness, countless red sensor dots lit up like a pack of hungry wolf eyes, staring unblinkingly at the forbidden zone.