During the subsequent fine-tuning process, Sakti pushed the threshold of the mental linkage bolt to its absolute limit.
His personal resources were limited; he could only manage to construct a small-scale, lightweight mecha. High-spec heavy armor wasn't something he could simply hand-assemble on his own. Lightweight models sacrificed a portion of their weapon-carrying capacity to maximize their speed advantage. When paired with an insectoid core crystal and a biological linkage bolt, it could achieve a high degree of compatibility with a male’s mental strength.
In other words, this was a model that could not be mass-produced.
Nor did it have any value for mass production.
High-ranking females had no need for such a "glass cannon" unit; they could tear through the outer hull of a patrol ship with their bare hands. Meanwhile, most males currently lacked the necessary conditions to even use weapons.
This was the only tailor-made, privately customized piece of equipment in the entire universe.
With the resources of an energy planet at his back, the Core Species had directly arranged for high-grade fuel. Combined with a refurbished power furnace, this gave the unit a standby time far exceeding that of standard models.
Gela loved it to death.
The first time the male touched the hull, his hands were trembling. As if afraid of breaking the gift, he stroked the outer armor coating with the lightest of touches. His wings quivered as he cautiously pressed his entire body against the pilot's seat.
His deformed wings prevented him from flying normally like other insects; he could only glide clumsily for a short distance before crashing to the ground. If he never had the chance for a second pupation, he would be estranged from the sky for the rest of his life.
As it turned out, Sakti possessed a bit of a rebellious streak. Since he had said he would enable the other to stir up a powerful enough storm in the future, he had the ability to make it a reality.
What man wouldn't want to build a mecha with his own two hands?
He had dealt with various human starships, patrol vessels, combat mechas, and different specifications of insectoid ships for far too long. Disassembly and assembly were his old trade; Red Tai Sui was his daily maintenance subject. He alone was equivalent to a team of professional mechanics.
"This is the final safety measure, just in case any accidents happen while I’m away from Ja. Currently, only Clark roughly knows about this. Unless you are in extreme danger, do not reveal it easily," Sakti cautioned the male. "I’ll move it to a different location later. Sooner or later, other insects will find out, but it’s never wise to expose your trump card to everyone prematurely."
He and that high-ranking insect from the Grey-Winged tribe each had their own secrets. A bond of interest was far more reliable than a common alliance; if it was a shared bond of hidden interests, it became even harder to sever. Their "plastic" cooperation didn't stop them from utilizing one another.
Gela nodded frantically, his small tail wagging so fast it became a blur. Two pairs of eyes looked at the Core Species with a sparkling gaze, looking both overjoyed and as if he were about to shed "little pearls" of tears.
This made Sakti chuckle.
He reached out and patted the male’s head. "Clark’s merchandise still needs some time to be prepared. In the meantime, I’ll finish this and then teach you how to use it."
"There will be extra training. There will be exams," he teased.
"I’m willing! I—I love exams the most!"
The male was so excited he stammered, completely unconcerned with what he was saying. He even joyfully accepted the exams he usually feared most. He unconsciously pressed against the Core Species for a "cuddle," while his hands remained glued to the inner wall of the cockpit, unwilling to let go.
The black female insect desperately suppressed a laugh.
He remembered having a similar mindset the first time he synchronized with Red Tai Sui, though he had to act as if he were calm and unbothered. While his nose bled profusely from the load of the deep link, he had maintained his cold and ruthless persona with an expressionless face.
In the end, Red Tai Sui had spoken to him directly within his mental sea: *“Your mental redundancy pressure is climbing. Your heart rate far exceeds a healthy frequency. You are having a nosebleed. Your blood has already dripped onto the floor.”*
It was a very undignified first meeting.
Sakti had forced himself to endure it back then, refusing to be helped down like the previous synchronizers. Desperate to save face, he had spoken arrogantly to his future partner: “I’m stronger than everyone else. This is normal for a first deep link; it’s no big deal. Let me try again, I can do target practice while linked.”
And Red Tai Sui had answered him: *“Very well.”*
Many things happened after that, things he could no longer remember clearly. Whenever he recalled the past, those images were like old photographs pressed under frosted glass, the details hazy and indistinct.
But the crimson tower-ship had chosen him. Compared to any other candidate with a higher rank than his, the sentient creation had ultimately accepted him as its primary pilot. The ship was like his other half, spending more time by his side than any human, following his footsteps across more than half the star sectors.
To the point that ten or twenty years later, when his partner chatted with him in the mental sea, it would often open with: *“Do you remember? When we first met, you had a nosebleed all over me.”*
The now mentally stable man would no longer rush to shut the other up like he did in his youth. He would only answer lazily, “Ah, yes. At first sight, I was so captivated by your grace and nobility that I was overcome with excitement, and my blood sprayed wild.”
Red Tai Sui would reply solemnly: *“Thank you for the compliment.”*
Ever since the first-generation starship, Fahna, gained self-awareness and an independent personality, these artificial intelligences had entered a brand-new stage. Every starship based on Fahna’s residual data possessed its own personality and engaged in a two-way selection process with its pilot.
Scholars had once raised objections, believing that Fahna and the White Emperor had undergone a personality restructuring, sharing all consciousness, and that what was displayed was merely a projection of the White Emperor’s own behavior rather than a true self.
That conclusion was swiftly proven wrong.
Because the White Emperor himself—or rather, the White Emperor who was no longer quite human—was mostly indifferent and lacked emotional fluctuations when facing the human race.
But Fahna loved humans far too much. The personality of that first-generation starship was quite eccentric. All subsequent records indicated that within its limited time, Fahna was dedicated to pulling in as many passengers as possible to tour its bizarre hull. Whenever its pilot wasn't looking, it would frantically send out a bunch of invitations, and it would be as happy as a puppy after being praised.
The White Emperor’s partner, when interviewed, had expressed with great difficulty that Fahna meant no harm; it just really, really liked humans. However, because it was affecting their normal lives, they could only apologetically decline all subsequent boarding applications. They had strictly forbidden Fahna from sending out any more invitations.
"They"—primarily the White Emperor, the synchronizer—had already thoroughly educated the ship.
There were many similar anecdotes, whether from unofficial histories or officially recognized records, all sufficient to prove that this batch of artificial intelligences possessed their own unique personalities.
Starships were far more stable than humans. They were connected to an entire data firmament; what they read and witnessed was almost the entire river of human civilization. As the base model for all its kind, Fahna’s affection for its pilot and its pilot’s former race was almost seared into its motherboard—it was its eternal, unchanging core operational program.
To this day, not a single sentient vessel had ever attempted to seek independence.
Seeing the male insect hugging the white mecha and refusing to let go, Sakti couldn't help but let out a soft sigh.
He also wanted to find his old partner.
This feeling of laughing out loud while touching the pilot's seat was something he understood quite well. During the initial period of synchronizing with Red Tai Sui, he basically spent all day on the ship, giving up all recreational activities during his leave.
And now, he saw his former self in Gela.
Thus, for the next small cycle, he performed the final tuning on the unit while teaching the male how to operate it. The underground space was large enough that simple training wasn't a problem.
The only trouble was that it took him a long time to peel the mental diagnostic device off the wall. Like tearing off wallpaper, he stuffed the crawling mess of things back into the compression box.
He had designed the cockpit according to Gela’s alienated form and mimetic body size, but he had forgotten that he, the instructor, would occasionally have to be in there as well.
The first time he squeezed into the cockpit with the male, he felt as if he were being vacuum-sealed. Gela, whose height only reached his jaw, sat in his lap. The entire insect instantly "overheated," so nervous he didn't know where to put his hands.
Sakti could only remind him, "Relax. You’re in a linked state with it. Just stand normally; you won't fall."
"O-Okay."
The male let out a sudden hum, looking as if he were about to catch fire.
The Core Species rested his head, which was being bumped around, on the other’s shoulder. As a result, the mecha, having its stabilization devices disengaged, immediately walked in an S-shape, as if it had been drinking bootleg liquor.
For a moment, Sakti wondered if he had set the linkage bolt values incorrectly; otherwise, how could the other produce such wobbling maneuvers?
Theoretically, a mecha under mental link should be as easy to use as one's own body, especially since the core crystal and linkage bolt were insectoid products, which should be even more compatible with this species.
However, when he exited the cockpit with concern and stood aside to observe, he found that the male actually operated it better than when he was there to supervise.
This was likely the first male insect to learn how to fly a ship, use thermal weapons, and process information nests—and now, he had to add mecha piloting to the list.
Sakti felt he could earn an all-around teacher's certification. The feeling of returning to his old trade to train a newcomer—a new insect—was still so familiar.
Gela’s information connector was set with a biological key, enough for him to remotely summon Qiming to help in an emergency.
He planned to find a time to move the unit onto the scavenger ship.
As the starting point of everything, that broken little ship had now been completely refurbished. It would never again drop parts after a single warp jump like it did at the beginning. With an upgraded engine, ultra-long endurance, and plenty of energy stones, even if it couldn't win a fight, it could at least run away quickly.
He had preliminarily realized the Core Species' wish of "hoping to be able to scrape a weapon off the ship's wall with every step."
So, he placed a call to Clark.
"Could you please ask your satellite garrison to close their eyes tonight?"
This time, the silver-grey winged female was taking something from a subordinate. His usually pristine body was splattered with unignorable blood, and his spread wings had not yet been retracted.
Facing this unannounced communication, the high-ranking insect’s expression was somewhat cold. "What are you up to now?"
"The gift has been delivered. While I’m still on Ja, I plan to take Gela out to soak in the moonlight tonight."
The energy planet had two satellites, which could barely serve as substitutes for moons. Moons equipped with orbital cannons.
The insect on the other side knew exactly what his "gift" was.
Clark gave a light chuckle.
"You’d better actually be soaking in the moonlight."
After disconnecting the call, the Core Species opened his arms toward the male, who was poking his head out of the cockpit.
"Come down," he said, with a slightly mischievous smile, as if he were about to do something wicked.
"I’m taking you out for a joyride tonight."
***
