Chapter 257: An Alliance With Kunta [3]

“How can I help you?” Kunta repeated, straightening up with indignation at my question. She puffed out her chest with an air of wounded pride that would have been more impressive if she had more chest to puff out. “I am a Starakian. The question should be how you could possibly manage without my help.”

“We got a pretty good demonstration of what Starakians are capable of already, thanks,” Sydney said with a dismissive scoff, examining her nails with studied disinterest. “Turns out you’re remarkably skilled at releasing biological weapons from a safe distance and watching civilizations collapse while you observe from orbit. Very impressive. Truly elite tactical work.”

Kunta’s jaw tightened and her brows drew together in a fierce glare directed at Sydney—but crucially, she said nothing to refute the words.

“Sydney,” Rachel called out shooting her a weary gaze. “We are attempting to establish a cooperative arrangement here. Could you perhaps hold the commentary until after we’ve determined whether this is actually viable?”

Sydney made a grumbling sound deep in her throat, crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned back against the wall.

I caught Rachel’s eye and gave her a brief nod before turning my attention back to Kunta.

“Let’s start with something concrete,” I said. “These alien devices—the ones that look like boxes. You called them Matrix Cores. Tell us everything about them.”

Kunta seemed to settle into more familiar territory at that, some of the defensive tension leaving her posture as she shifted into something closer to an explanation.

“Matrix Cores are Starakian weapons systems,” she began. “Each one is designed around a primamainry function—they broadly fall into three categories. Destructive, defensive, or support-based utility. But regardless of their classification, every single Matrix Core requires an external power source to operate.”

“The stones,” Christopher said, leaning forward slightly with interest, his eyes moving toward the device sitting in the corner. The Dual Core Matrix rested there with its two embedded slots occupied—one stone glowing a light green, the other a soft silver. “The glowing ones in different colors.”

“Correct,” Kunta confirmed, following his gaze. “Each Powerstone carries a distinct energy signature that determines what kind of capability it activates within the Matrix Core it’s inserted into. The color is a surface indicator of that signature.” She gestured toward her own device. “This particular one is a dual-support configuration. Its main functions are communication and protective shielding. It was never designed as a weapon.”

“Is that the only Matrix Core you brought with you to this planet?” I asked, holding her gaze to make sure she wasn’t lying.

Kunta met my stare directly. “Yes,” she said. “Only this one.”

“Because you didn’t come here to fight,” Rachel said from across the room. “If your intention was genuinely what you told Ryan—to communicate, to find Zakthar, to assist—then you wouldn’t need anything more than a support-class device. A communication tool and a means of protection. Nothing offensive.”

Kunta nodded, something briefly softening in her expression at Rachel’s framing. “That is what Zak wanted from the beginning. He argued against bringing anything that could be interpreted as a threat. He said—” She stopped herself, pressing her lips together as something private moved across her face. “He said we should arrive as guests, not soldiers.”

A moment of quiet settled over the room at that.

“Then I suppose,” Cindy said slowly, her voice thoughtful, “that the Tri Core Matrix we found near that church back in Jackson Township was something else entirely. Something brought by whoever came before you with very different intentions.”

“Different is one word for it,” Sydney muttered. “Destruction is another. And those three stones were separated from the box when we found it—scattered across Jackson Township. Which honestly makes the whole thing even more weird if you think about it carefully.”

“Separated?” Kunta’s head turned sharply toward Sydney, confused. “The Powerstones were removed from the Core when you found it?”

“The box was completely empty when we first came across it,” Christopher confirmed, straightening. “Three empty slots. We pieced it together over time—filled each slot after we took care what we were calling the Fire Spitter, the Frost Walker, and the Screamer. Nasty work, all three of them. Each one had a stone that corresponded to a slot in the Core.”

Kunta stared at him for a long moment, something clearly turning over rapidly in her mind.

“A Tri Core Matrix,” she whispered, almost to herself. “What exactly were they trying to accomplish with it?”

“That’s our concern,” I said, cutting off.

I didn’t want to drag Wanda here when she was already a big target for them.

Kunta looked at me upset but didn’t argue.

“What matters immediately,” I continued, steering the conversation forward, “is that Gaspar—the Symbiote Host working with Callighan’s group—now has that Tri Core Matrix in his possession. Along with all three stones, which we fought extremely hard to obtain.” I paused, letting that land. “Which means he now has access to whatever the full activated capability of that device actually is.”

“If the three Powerstones are all inserted and properly aligned,” Kunta said, her expression growing complicated, “then the Matrix Core would be operating at its complete capacity. That is a significantly different situation than individual stones being used separately.”

“Hold on,” Christopher said, holding up a hand as something seemed to click into place for him. His brow furrowed thoughtfully. “Actually—doesn’t anyone else find it strange that we found that box without the three stones inside it in the first place? If whoever brought that Tri Core Matrix to Jackson Township wanted to cause maximum destruction, why scatter the stones separately instead of just using the full powered device from the start? Why make it harder for yourself?”

“Maybe because they weren’t trying to destroy Jackson Township outright,” Rachel said thoughtfully. “Not yet. The Municipal Office was first attacked by the Fire Spitter—and even that felt strange at the time, didn’t it? Too focused, too targeted for what could have been an overwhelming assault.” She paused a bit. “Whoever controlled it seemed to want to threaten and pressure rather than obliterate. Force a surrender. Make a specific person comply.” She corrected her phrasing slightly at the end, stepping carefully around the name that was clearly sitting in her mouth.

“Okay so that’s the tactical history,” Sydney said, uncrossing her arms. “But that doesn’t make our current situation any less catastrophically bad, does it? We had a hard time dealing with those three things separately—one at a time, with preparation, barely surviving each encounter. And now Gaspar has all three of them unified inside a device that’s apparently designed to channel and amplify all of that power simultaneously?” She looked around the room. “Please tell me I’m missing something that makes this less of a disaster.”

Nobody answered her immediately.

The silence stretched.

She was right, and everyone in the room knew it.

“What exactly is a fully activated Tri Core Matrix capable of?” I asked Kunta directly, holding her gaze. “Not a vague answer. Specifics, if you have them.”

Kunta was quiet for a moment, her fingers resuming their unconscious movement against Sonny’s plating.

“There are different configurations and designations for Tri Core systems,” she said finally. “They are not all built for the same purpose. But from what you have described—a device that was brought to a populated area and used to deploy creature-based threats against a specific target—the classification would almost certainly be an assault and coercion model.” She met my eyes. “If that is the type it is, then at full power with all three stones aligned and active, a Tri Core Matrix of that class would not function simply as a controller for three separate threats.” She paused. “It would function as a single unified weapon.”

“So not three problems at once,” Christopher said slowly. “One problem. One extremely large, extremely powerful, combined problem.”

“That would be the correct understanding, yes,” Kunta said quietly.

“I mean, honestly, I’m not entirely surprised that it came to this,” Sydney said sighing. “With our modern military arsenal—actual nuclear warheads, precision bombardment, the full weight of coordinated global firepower—we could have theoretically made things very difficult for their Matrix technology. Bombed the sites, destroyed the devices before they could deploy properly.” She paused. “But our governments made their choice. They decided fighting back wasn’t worth the personal risk and quietly accepted the terms.”

She wasn’t entirely wrong about that. Whatever technological advantages the Starakians held, humanity had its own capabilities—weapons designed specifically to level the playing field against conventional superior forces. But our leadership had apparently looked at what they were facing and concluded that even those weren’t enough. Or perhaps they simply hadn’t wanted to find out. It was impossible now to know whether the decision had been genuine strategic surrender or simple cowardice dressed in strategic language.

Kunta, visibly irritated by Sydney’s implication that Starakian military power was somehow beatable with sufficient human stubbornness, made a short contemptuous sound and straightened her posture.

“If a Tri Core Matrix frightens you this much,” she said with clipped precision, “then you have seen nothing—nothing—of what actual Starakian military deployment looks like. A Matrix Core is a field instrument. What we have in our fleet would make your nuclear weapons look like—”

“Yet your entire civilization has been running from the Symbiotes for centuries of years,” I said quietly. “Scared enough to cross the galaxy hunting them down. Scared enough to wipe out entire inhabited worlds just to make sure they couldn’t take root.”

Kunta’s mouth closed. She turned her face away, gritting her teeth.

I let the silence sit for a moment before exhaling slowly and leaning back in my chair.

My hand moved to my bag almost without conscious thought—fingers finding the familiar angular shape of the object I’d been carrying since the Golden Nugget. I drew it out and set it on the floor between us.

The white cube caught the ambient light of Kunta’s tools and held it—clean, smooth, and impossibly pristine against the dusty floor of the abandoned hotel room.

“This!” Kunta widened her eyes.

“Okay, Ryan—” Sydney straightened from her lean against the wall, her own curiosity overriding the disinterest. “What exactly is that?”

The others shifted and leaned in as well, flashlight beams converging on the object with collective interest. Even Rebecca and Daisy took a few hesitant steps forward from their position near the door.

“I…Is that another Matrix Core?” Daisy asked softly, pushing her broken glasses up her nose with one finger, squinting to see better.

“No,” I said, studying it myself before looking toward Kunta. “It doesn’t feel the same. I looked at Kunta. “What is it?”

“It’s a Nexon Battery,” Kunta replied. “We use them for energy storage—large-scale, compressed energy storage. They function as portable power reserves for our technology when a Matrix Core’s stones begin losing charge, or when we need to maintain systems over extended periods in the field.” She glanced at the Dual Core Matrix beside her as an example, then back at the white cube. “But their applications aren’t limited to Matrix systems. They can interface with and charge a broad range of our technology.” She paused, something shifting in her expression as she studied it more carefully. “Where did you find this? The configuration marks on the casing—it looks like it could be one of the ones Zakthar brought with him.”

“I found it in the location where I believe Zakthar is currently being held,” I said, watching her face carefully as I delivered the information.

Kunta’s breath caught almost imperceptibly.

“And it wasn’t sitting unused,” I continued. “It was actively running. Connected through a series of cables and adapted relays to power the entire building.”

“Wait—Ryan—” Christopher pushed off the wall and stared at me with sudden wide eyes.

I looked at him with a slight smile. “That single object—one Starakian battery the size of a shoebox—was providing electricity to the entire Golden Nugget Hotel. Every floor. Every system they had running.” I held the cube up slightly, letting the weight of it speak for itself. “Though there was something about the setup that struck me as unusual. The connection method was distinctly improvised—human cables, adapted junction boxes, a whole chain of workaround engineering that should not, logically, have been capable of interfacing with something this far beyond our conventional technology.” I set the cube down again. “So how did they manage it? How does a human group successfully tap into Starakian power technology without any knowledge of how it actually works?”

“Zak,” Kunta said. “He must have helped them adapt it. Modified the output interface, built conversion relays that could bridge the compatibility gap between our systems and yours. He is very good at that kind of work. Practical engineering, cross-system adaptation. If anyone could make a Nexon Battery speak the language of your electrical infrastructure, it would be him.”

“Your boyfriend helped Gaspar set up his power grid,” Sydney said, raising an eyebrow with performative thoughtfulness. “Voluntarily. And you still want him back?”

“H…He would never have done it willingly!” Kunta snapped back immediately, colour flooding her cheeks again. “He was forced—he had to have been. Zak wouldn’t help people like that by choice, he—” She stopped herself, pressing her lips together as her voice threatened to crack at the edges. She redirected her energy into glaring at Sydney with considerable intensity instead.

“Alright,” I said, drawing the room’s focus back before Sydney could pursue that thread further. I looked at Kunta directly. “Setting aside how they acquired his help—do you think you could make this work for us? Use this Nexon Battery to power this hotel the way Zakthar powered theirs?”

“Hold on—” Christopher turned toward me slowly. “Ryan, are you actually serious about this?”

“Completely,” I said, meeting his gaze. “Think about what I just told you. One object. The size of a box. Powered an entire hotel.” I looked around at each of them in turn. “We have sixty people in this building right now and growing. We have a place that needs defending more than ever. We have floors to secure, threats to monitor, equipment to run.” I set the cube down between us with quiet emphasis. “If we can get this operational and connected to this building’s infrastructure—real electricity, stable and sustained—we don’t stop there. We use the surplus to run electrical barriers along the outer perimeter. Grills, fencing, anything that stops infected from pressing against our walls without us having to physically be there watching every meter of it.”

“Like what Mark built back at the Municipal Office,” Cindy mumbled.

“Yes,” I said. “Except Mark built that from scavenged wire, salvaged generators, and sheer stubbornness. He did remarkable work with almost nothing.” I glanced at the Nexon Battery. “With this as the power source instead—the scale and reliability of what we could build becomes something entirely different.”

“I…” Kunta’s voice came from behind me. I turned to look at her. She was staring at the Nexon Battery with an expression caught between wanting to help and being genuinely troubled by her own limitations. “I cannot do it myself. I want to be clear about that.” She looked up at me. “I understand Starakian technology thoroughly—the theory, the systems, the energy mechanics. But bridging it to your infrastructure the way Zak did requires understanding both sides of that equation… Your power systems, your engineering conventions, your materials—I don’t know them well enough to build that bridge alone.” She looked down at Sonny briefly. “I am not like Zak in that way.”

“Mark might be able to,” I said.

Christopher’s face broke into a slow, wide grin at the name. “Yeah,” he said simply, nodding.

“Absolutely,” Cindy agreed as ell. “Give Mark five minutes with that thing and a technical explanation from Kunta and I wouldn’t bet against him.”

“That wonderfully grumpy chain-smoker will absolutely figure it out,” Sydney nodded as well.

“W—What?” Kunta looked between all of them with visible bewilderment.

I looked at her and smiled, my hand resting on the Nexon Battery ignoring the discomfort.

“It looks like, we have a great deal of work ahead of all of us.”

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