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And yet somehow – somehow – I know that it will not be enough. The disparity between is too large – too long. The probe knows this, despite its alien mind and machine-like cadence. It sees us as upright apes, and knows that it will continue to roam the stars long after our fragile species passes into soft dirt and ugly ash.
So, when the fireball fades, I see that the probe’s burnished hull is reduced – but still very much functional. MERRYGATE sends an insistent warning as the machine-intelligence begins to push her back into her own systems. A scythe of distorted light swirls a warped defect into my vision before sweeping into the RAIN’s hull.
Impact. Air whistles out of a distant hull breach. The RAIN’s reactor stutters, and the engine undergoes emergency shutdown. We begin to tumble.
I am no longer afraid. I remember that defiance alone defines humanity, and there is nothing more that I need to show to honor my kind.
MERRYGATE performs a final targeting check at my request, her voice crackling as her systems begin to lose integrity.
Two cubes tumble from the RAIN’s secondary launch bay. I watch them leave with the sun-stung eyes of a limping savannah hunter; his spear braced in a final attempt to impale a predator that would always find him wanting. I gamble no differently from the very first of my kind, and I carry that same old, stubborn, irrational faith that this time – only this time – my defiance will find purchase.
The hunter’s archive-seeds sublimate moments before they streak into impact range. Trillions of nanometer-scale replicators fill space with a static haze.
And then they find purchase on the probe, exploiting the damage inflicted by the RAIN’s opening barrage. The same exothermic fires that consumed my homeworld race across the probe’s surface, rendering computational substrate into formless ash. A static hiss permeates the bridge.
Slowly, the RAIN slows her spin. Acceleration grudgingly reimposes itself as the drive reignites. I drag myself to the observation deck to watch the probe die, see it smolder like an old ember. MERRYGATE reappears by my side, her avatar flickering as she begins to reboot her systems. She offers to relay the probe’s final appeal."
- [UNSIGNED], EXECUTIVE AUDITOR, TRS NOVEMBER RAIN, AD. 2242, DECEMBER 14th, PERSONAL JOURNAL
>LISTEN TO THE PROBE’S FINAL TRANSMISSION.
>IGNORE.
