21.02 - Staring at the stars

The dark ships ploughed through the empty expanse between the clouds of gas and dust on the galactic rim and the bright stars of the western spiral arm. The armada was a formidable one—not only were there thousands of the medium-sized black crabs and uncounted numbers of fighters, but dozens of larger craft as well. The biggest ships were the size of small asteroids, and carried themselves like frozen tubes of lava flying through the endless night.

On board one of these giant craft, the Ship Controller looked out a porthole and stared at the fleet with heavy eyes.

It is quite impressive, it thought, just as I’m sure it was the last time, and all the times before.

It thought about its duty, and the mission it was entrusted with. It thought about the battle it would soon fight. It even thought, briefly, about the lives of the aliens that would be lost.

Sometimes, deep down inside, it wondered if there wasn’t a way for it to deviate from the path that it had inherited. Was there any possibility of a life that was any different from the one it had lived?

Even idle abstract thinking of this nature was difficult. Often its body would stiffen, and thousands of tiny shoots of pain would run through it. It was so much easier simply not to think about these things. Yet this simple act of defiance was pleasing, somehow.

They can make it hard for me to think, the tall, twisted creature said to itself, but they can’t make it impossible. Not if they want me to do the job I was born to do.

It sighed. In the end it didn’t matter, though. It would do its duty and that would be the end of it. Ultimately, it had no choice.

But in the back of its mind, it wondered if that was actually true. If it really wanted to, couldn’t it break free of its programming?

It remembered that there had been others that had tried such a thing. They had died, of course, either at their own hands or by those of others. It was not an easy thing to do, to defy one’s own reason for being, and the punishment for even minor transgressions was severe. Still, wasn’t there another possibility?

One could escape. It would be difficult to get past the elaborate security net, but assuming it could be done, where would one go?

The Ship Controller thought about the many species that they had killed. What did they do with their freedom, before it was taken away from them? What were their goals in life, if they did not have them embedded into them at birth? It thought about this for a while, then remembered. They would likely seek out other members of their own species, to mate with them and produce offspring.

Like all other members of the Deathspawn, it was sterile and had no desire nor capacity for reproduction. Even if it did break free from the rest of them, it could have no such goal. What would it do?

Maybe that is why we do what we do, it thought. Not because our bodies are genetically encoded to obey orders without question. Not because we have no other choice. Maybe it is because if we did not have this, we would have no other purpose.

It turned to look through the window again, and watched the fleet continue its inevitable journey.