Drifting

It happened so fast.

The empire's fleets clouded our red sky, sending the planet into a darkness that lasted no more than 40 days. 40 days in which they managed to subdue, punish, and kill anyone who resisted and forcefully convert Vysinni, my home planet, into one of the empire's many vassals.

To achieve this goal, the high priest of the planet, as well as any other figures of significant stature who opposed the empire, were executed and replaced by the empire's lapdogs.

I, being the high priest's only daughter to resist to the very end, must have been a novelty to the prince of the empire. He took me in like a pet, fed me, clothed me, and expected me to perform tricks at his whim.

He forced me into the empire's army as a rank 1 soldier who could never ascend the ranks. He replaced my organic parts with junk so old that I was now considered a walking hazard. And in my mind… he, he broke me.

After 12 years, being fiddled with under his thumb, no one could remain completely sane.

If I were sane, I wouldn't have even attempted my escape. I wouldn't have even considered escape from Rank 3 slayers. Hell, I wouldn't have turned off my heartbeat and lowered my body temperature to that of a corpse for 30 minutes.

How ironic. The insanity he forced onto me was the only reason I escaped his clutches in the end.

Oh, who was I kidding.

I hadn't escaped yet.

Even if the empire hadn't sunk their claws into this star system, it didn't mean they couldn't if they tried hard enough.

Knowing just how psychotic that bastard prince is, I wouldn't put it past him to actually send a fleet just to recover me for punishment.

That's why I didn't have much time. Any day, hour, minute or second from now, I could be staring down a wormhole with an army of Rank 3 slayers pouring out just for me.

I had to ensure they could never find me.

The bastard that sold me out was also the one to supposedly deactivate the chip that tracked me. Now, I definitely couldn't trust that the prince couldn't see where I was at all times.

"SRN8."

I called weakly. Even I could barely hear my voice. I was still yet to recover from the damage I'd taken. The SRN8's emergency treatment was slow and not nearly as effective as the medical bay in an imperial ship.

[How may I assist you?]

"In your scan, did you detect any form of tracking technology?"

The computer didn't speak. It was almost as if it was hesitant to even tell me what it discovered. I furrowed my brows as I patiently awaited its response. When it spoke, I couldn't even react.

[Every single blood cell in your body seems to be transmitting electrical signals. I am unable to determine where to. However, I believe the modifications made to your red bone marrows are the cause of this. In order to stop the transmission, you will need to…]

I didn't bother listening anymore. I could tell what it was saying.

I'd basically need to die if I wanted to escape that bastard's ever-seeing gaze. Worst part about that? It wasn't even the bastard that changed my bone marrows.

I did. Accidentally, but I'm still the cause of it nonetheless.

As compensation for my inability to naturally rank up, the bastard prince, in all his sick and twisted machinations, created a unique ability for me. He called it [Assimilation].

Rather than actively getting stronger and acquiring better technology from the empire, I was given a skill that allowed me to take in bits and pieces of metal I found to reinforce my body. Of course, as you can imagine, that meant the more I did it, the less of me there would be.

I'd refused to use this skill for as long as possible, but caved in my 5th year. As time went by, I came to use it more frequently as a means to survive.

That bastard, he'd given me that skill in case of a situation like this.

Of course, it wasn't compensation for me not getting stronger. It was an easier way for him to keep track of me.

I fell silent, unable to muster any words.

No.

I'd already escaped the empire's borders. Now, all I needed to do was escape the prince's control. I didn't come so far only to give up.

"How long till we reach the Sonoe 9NRV?"

[ETA: 592 hours]

8 hours?! The ship had been working on my body for 8 straight hours and was still nowhere near done? Was the damage done to me that serious? Wait… that's 12 years of physical trauma, and the system is definitely not going to make any progress soon.

"You said the planet is a trash planet, right?"

[Affirmative. It's nothing but an accumulation of scrap metal constantly being dumped]

'Dumped? People actually have the balls to come all the way out here just to dump scrap?'

I shook my head. That didn't matter right now. I could definitely use some scrap metal right about now. And if I were fortunate, the people dumping scrap metal could help me out of this place.

This was a risky plan, but if I were to bleed myself out while consuming more scrap metal, I could heal myself?

I'd just need to hack the [Assimilation] skill so it doesn't transmit any data to the prince. In order to do that, I'd need to hack the Imperial Supreme Protocol: Möbius XRLT3.3.

I clicked my tongue.

"I'd have better success trying to fight a Rank 9 General naked."

I paused for a moment, my ears twitching as another idea came to me.

'Maybe not the supreme protocol, but my personalised assistant? I can't change its fundamental function, but perhaps a change could be made to an auxiliary function like transmitting data to the prince.'

I looked at the SRN8's flat computer screen. It was currently serving as a Heart Rate Monitor to me. My heart was not looking so good. Perhaps that would explain why I felt so weak at the moment… or maybe the fact that I'd lost a damning amount of blood and taken some serious damage to my back, ribs arm and brain.

"Hey, SRN8, are you able to bypass certain firewalls in an external program to change the code?"

This was the escape pod for what was, in essence, a rebel ship. It, at the very least, had to be able to misdirect incoming drones through means other than cloaking, right?

[No. That is not one of my functions]

I sighed.

This was going to be tough.

Well, I had at least 500 more hours drifting alone through space to figure out something.

That is, if I lived that long.