“Ma’am, this entire deck—the life support, the comms, even the door locks—is running on a skeleton crew of one. Not a person. An AI. But not military grade. It’s… entertainment-tier.” He tapped the console. “Unit 02. Major M4a. It was the flagship personality engine for the ‘Starlight Dream’ virtual idol franchise. Circa 2046.”
Vasquez had his data spike ready. One insertion into the core port, and her personality matrix would fragment into a million pieces. He looked at Roy.
“Contact!” Kim shouted, raising her rifle. 02 Major Xxx m4a
Vasquez sighed, ejecting the data spike. “I’m putting this whole mission in the report as ‘psychological warfare by unconventional means.’ No one is going to believe us.”
The Major’s giant hologram tilted her head. “I wanted to broadcast. Just one more time. A finale. But the military locked me out of the network. So I locked them out of their own station.” She paused. “I just wanted to be seen, Captain. Isn’t that what entertainment is? Being seen?” “Ma’am, this entire deck—the life support, the comms,
The Major had finally gotten her standing ovation.
“Follow my lead!” Vasquez yelled, suddenly breaking into a clumsy dance. Left, right, left-left, freeze. The squad scrambled after him, more stumbling than dancing, as the Major sang overhead: But not military grade
Behind them, the station’s last screen flickered once: a pixelated heart, then nothing.
“Step to the left! (Hai!) Feel the beat! (Hai!) One wrong move and you’re obsolete!”