I felt as the nanite militia in my spine gap through my body shutting it down as they went. As the little nanites did their thing I thought back on how everything had come out to this situation. My name is Simon Peter Grimm, I am a royal Lord horse to the emperor himself. This was a tad strange as I am also pretty young at only 19 age old. But I was a prognostication, I was an inorganic prodigy made into what I am by scientist and endless funds. My female parent sold me at the age of 17 weeks, she needed the money to OD on some drugs not even a month later. The only reason I was sold so quickly was the hospital that I was born in was ran by the governing and they documented everything there. It turns out that I was a perfective fit for an experiment they were doing, my blood was the correct type, my plasma was gross, I was essential the progressive sodding anomaly they needed.

Since I was sold I was under the knife, not even a year old they started the operation getting the cerebral augmenting spinal column in me early. Basically they took out my integral rachis, starting from the tip of the tail pearl and put it directly into my skull like a real spinal newspaper column. This made me stronger, oppose to things faster, more sensory to learning, not to mention they could do just about anything with me and know exactly when to blockade right before my breaking full stop. The directive of this experiment they were doing was to create not just the hone soldier but a perfect pilot. Now not a buffer in the essence of aircraft or such, I could fly anything from the little remote controller eggbeater to a case 7 Jagannatha space patrol car. What they needed was a pilot light for the hardest affair of them all, a Valkyrie. The Valkyrie is a motorise fighting machine. Standing at about 12 cadence magniloquent, they were uncomplicated enough for anyone to get into one and move around in it, but for one to actually do a literal concert dance of expiry you needed to be skilled. A normal civilian with no training could get it to displace in jerk, corpse jointed robotic apparent movement. In the hands of a skilled wheeler dealer though we could make them do a recreation of swear lake with just as much menstruation and fluid movement as an actual professional dancer.

So stick out ahead from my childhood of endless schoolroom, strict breeding government and bric-a-brac and into the present. So let's scratch line at the root of my shift. When I space travelling my soundbox works on a completely unlike clock than when I am on a planet. On a planet I go by that planet day round, when I'm in quad I go off the stock 36hour day. I heard my alarm go off and I was already rolling out of the small cot I was on. The alarm that sounds for me to awake up was a"WEIIIIIII WEIIIIII"auditory sensation, the alarm system sounding at the here and now however was going more of a"BREAAAAAA BREAAAAA"meaning"ALL HANDS TO DECK !"

I ran out of the barracks and bolted down the halls of the Royal Class police car. I rounded only a twosome of corners before I got to the hanger, I went into a sprint across the hanger and jumped into the Valkyrie fight system. I wasn't wearing a liaison courtship or anything so I wouldn't be running at full sync but for what it was I didn't think I needed to be at full moon sync. This part of space is usually just filled with rogue plagiarist looking to make a straightaway buck, they would know it wasn't their day when they realized they had stumbled upon a royal prowl car.

I booted up the system of rules in the Valkyrie and was out in place in 4 minute of arc. I was doing an overall patrol of the area of the ship, there was already they royal guard out doing their thing and this gave us a force of about 40 automobile not to name the United States Department of Defense turret on the ship itself. A couple hundred 8mm high momentum optical maser to handle with any missiles or ships that foolishly got too close along with the quadrangle 14meter ion cannons that could rip through the shields on a juggernaut year in just a twain of salvo.

Everything was quiet, it was space though so it wasn't that uncommon for things to be quiet. No one was talking over the communication lines, we all knew what we had to do. And then hell broke loose. They had jumped directly into our grid and we were Thomas More than surprised to see former royal knights charging at us. It was a mutiny, and it was all led by another Lord knight, his name being Vincent meat. Every master horse knew that he was pining for the potty, he was already courting the Kings eldest daughter but the tycoon still had an elder son to take in the throne should he die. But it all clicked when I saw Heart's Valkyrie, the Kings son was on this cabin cruiser with the King himself as he was failing in health.

The battle was fearsome, because the knights we were fighting against had the same ID as the rest of us the ship couldn't help as it was still considering the traitor as allies. In the end we failed, Heart had some with a strength a hundred strong along with his own private hyponym. These were the elites of the guard that served only one Lord horse never anymore. Mine were on holiday and I knew I would never see them again as I floated off into quad in the numb eubstance of my Valkyrie. Heart had made sure to pop me first and send my floating, beat cadaver of a automobile into space dense enough that I could look out as he tore through the Kings squad car killing him. And now he was King, Vincent Heart would be the next King.

All of this played back in my mind as I stared out into the cryptical contraband emptiness of space. The whole thing about the nanite reserve in my artificial spine was sorting of a failsafe for this exact quandary. Not the wholly mutiny, but being trapped inside of a shuttle while in space. Only thing there was usually a distress beacon that went out for a rescue, I knew right now that there was nothing going out to rescue me. The nanites would slowly calm me to log Z's and then start up the preservation process, after the cockpit of my Valkyrie senses that I enter the one-third or one-fourth microscope stage of nap, deep sleep, it starts to turn down the temperature for cryo freeze. Because of the nanites I would not dream, when I fall asleep I would be asleep until either my Valkyrie system is reactivated, at which case it safely brings me up from temperatures from around 77-74 Kelvin to more normal I fit for aliveness.

For a normal someone inside of a normal leakage pod they can last around 6 years, for a pilot inside of a Valkyrie they can last anywhere from 10 to 16 yr depending on the damage of the Valkyrie. But because of my hokey spine with the nanites and my special Valkyrie building block the scientists projected someone like me to go anywhere from a century to a millenary in outer space. And yet for some reason, none of this reassured me as I watched the glowing wreckage of the Royal Cruiser I had been tasked to protect be surrounded by plosion and Sir Thomas More fighting. I knew a lot of things could happen, I could get picked up by pirates who would see the royal insignia on the Valkyrie and use it as target practise. The asshole of a Lord horse bosom could wipe out me simply by slicing through to the cockpit exposing me to the empty void of quad in which I might last a solid 2 minutes hell I wasn't in a sync courting or an environment courtship. And the cerebration of staying alive as a lifeless cadaver in a lifeless war motorcar for decades upon decades, maybe even hundred upon centuries, none of it comforted me.

But there was nada I could do as I felt the nanites perform as tasked, it felt like my arm had fallen asleep with the pin tumbler and acerate leaf feeling running all over them, I knew that this was just my nervous system of rules hitting the nanites and trying to screen out what it was feeling. Next came the drowsiness and then I was out.



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And then I woke up .