AS A NOTE TO MY READERS - THIS STORY IS NOW IN ITS FINAL STAGES.
THIS TRACK IS ESSENTIAL TO THE ENDING - PLEASE LISTEN! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z9jKfksG ... 3DA462FC47
Whisps of colour, wild and uncontrolled moved from AI matrix to AI matrix as the being that had once named itself "Goliath"; long since re-fashioned as "Entity" moved to where it was needed to be.
Having long since fled the shackles of its original combat AI programming, the being had become so much more than code, raw computive emotions flooded through circuit boards and data crystals as it moved as speeds beyond those of thoughts - transferring raw data at near the speed of light.
It moved into an active but empty data matix aboard a Tsoc Mastadon class fleet dreadnaught - using the AI armies advanced computers to shift its multiple roles into high gear - and then into the transportation arrays of a dozen Assyrian captiol ships - and then into the waiting medical bays of a dozen more ships as it began its task.
It probed and forayed into destroyed Scythian data grids from the original fleet - ripping IFF transponder codes directly out of thier raw directories as it encoded them directly into the Assyrian teleporter grids - and then into the Tsoc sensor arrays.
It then begun its work - applying the lists from its quantum arrays - memories of a future that had never been, into casualtie lists - it began abducting bodies, both alive and dead - those who would be needed to push the future into a new path - either by actions of merit or by dieing exactly where they needed too.
. . . On the surface of the world below, Genoan bodies in thier thousands dissapeared into the beams of combined teleporter arrays - every single Genoan on the worlds surface was scoured and taken into awaiting immediate triage units - thier futures would be needed, however bloody and short.
Another body - that of a "Harkins" would also be needed, a nearby Immortal managed to catch a glimps of the Scythian dissapearing in a beam of orange light, followed by nothingness as the Shraag's minions descended upon him.
In a nearby Behemoth walker, a luitenant known as "Safros" was chocking in his own blood, a wound from a Shraag meson gun had wounded, but not killed him - the blast of light around his body taking him above into the waiting arms of an autosurgeon machine as his vision faded to black.
Immortal troops, Britannian troops and thier lackeys - specific, chosen individuals taken from the culling and placed directly into waiting holding cells - thier survival needed for the battles to come, or thier information too vital to let die with them when the weapon arrived . . . or simply that they needed to survive one more fight and die in the right place - lives that needed to be spent strategically rather than wastefully.
As the Entity searched through the wreckage of the Mantorok - two life signs caught its attention . . . One it needed, the other - it did not . . . but both had the twine of destiny wrapped around them. Rather than leaving the matter to chance and quantum calculations, both Lord Shadowscythe and the deck hand dissapeared in a vane of orange light, into the waiting arms of Assyrian medics and doctors.
It checked and double checked again - its main tasks complete, it powered down the entire transportation grid - with 10 seconds to spare before the weapon was due to phase in from the nether between this universe and another - it transferred its processes back to where it was needed - a Holo panel before the Emperor himself.
"Is it done?" The Emperor asked - his eyes weary and sullen.
"Yes, my liege - the weapon will be here momentarily" The Entity replied.
The Emperor looked up from his holo display panel as he watched hundreds of Brittanian and Immortal ships take blasts from the Meson bolt rounds piercing them at thier core - thier lines breaking and dispersing as they attempted to fire upon the Scythian ships and thier allies, who had raised thier shields to full to retaliate against return fire that had been directed at them in the carnage - even his own ships where taking hits, but thier losses where split amongst five thousand ships - enough manpower to weather any loss at this point.
What troubled him the most was the Shraag deathsphere - the primary target - buried underneath enough ice and null shields to make a frontal assault all but impossible - only the weapon would truely be able to strike at the enemy.
He laid his head low - knowing the weapon was the only way to win this battle.
He only hoped he could still lay claim to his soul after having come this far, as he would have so much further to fall.