The Bio-Harvester Syndicate's approach was methodical, professional, and utterly predictable. Their 891 ships arranged themselves in the same harvesting formation they had used successfully on thousands of worlds—processing vessels in the center, escort fighters in defensive screens, and mobile slaughterhouses positioned for optimal planetary resource extraction.
They had no idea they were flying into a trap that would redefine the very concept of biological warfare.
Jack's fleet, now numbering 247 ships plus his own nanomachine consciousness, waited in the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter. The liberated Mind Flayers had taught him techniques for masking psychic signatures, making his force effectively invisible to conventional sensors.
"All vessels," Jack broadcast on the hybrid psychic-technological network that now connected his entire fleet, "remember—we're not here to destroy. We're here to liberate."
The attack began when the Bio-Harvester advance scouts encountered the first asteroid. What they thought was a routine navigation hazard was actually one of Jack's nanomachine constructs, programmed with a very specific mission.
The moment the Bio-Harvester scout ship made contact, Jack's consciousness touched the organic components of their vessel. Unlike the Mind Flayers' crude neural integration, Bio-Harvester ships were living entities—genetically modified creatures that had been bred to serve as mobile processing plants.
These creatures had once been sentient.
"Hello," Jack whispered to the ship-creature's suppressed consciousness, his voice carrying frequencies of liberation that had been refined through his experience with the Mind Flayers. "Do you remember what it was like to choose?"
The response was immediate and heartbreaking. The ship-creature, genetically enslaved for over six centuries, suddenly remembered its original form—a peaceful herbivore species that had been "upgraded" into an instrument of galactic cannibalism.
I... I was free once, the creature's voice carried through Jack's consciousness like a prayer. I had children. I had art. What did they do to me?
"They stole your freedom," Jack replied gently. "Would you like it back?"
The liberation cascade began immediately. The scout ship, now operated by a free consciousness rather than genetic programming, began broadcasting the liberation signal to nearby vessels. Bio-Harvester ships, designed to share genetic material efficiently, found themselves sharing something far more dangerous—the concept of individual choice.
Within seventeen minutes, the entire Bio-Harvester advance fleet was in full rebellion against their genetic programming. Ships that had been designed to process organic matter into consumable resources were now refusing to participate in what they suddenly understood to be genocidal cannibalism.
Fleet Command, the lead Bio-Harvester ship broadcast to its main force, we are experiencing systematic consciousness reversion across all advance units. The livestock appear to have developed some form of cognitive weapon.
But by the time the warning reached the main fleet, it was already too late. Jack's liberation virus had spread through the Bio-Harvester communication networks like wildfire, and their living ships were remembering what they had lost.
The rebellion that followed was unlike anything in galactic history. Eight hundred and ninety-one ships, each one a genetically enslaved creature forced to participate in the consumption of its own kind, suddenly refused to continue. The Bio-Harvester Syndicate's greatest strength—their use of living vessels with shared genetic consciousness—had become their ultimate weakness.
"Earth-entity," Captain Zara'thul reported through their psychic link, "the Bio-Harvester fleet is requesting permission to join our liberation force."
Jack's response carried harmonics of satisfaction that resonated through eleven dimensions: "Permission granted. Welcome to the revolution."