B.R.T. 17.11 - the haunting of captain jack

 ***

 The Linkage - the conjoined intellect and wisdom of all of the
 mechanoid beings known as Microns...to which, through a bit of
 technological trickery, Burnout was also joined.  From here, from
 the apparent end of history, everything the Microns would ever
 know was there, available for him, for the asking...

 And it was screaming at him.  
 All at once.  All the collected knowledge was flooding into his 
 single small mind, drowning itself out, obscuring itself, until only
 the commonest thoughts strengthened themselves into 
 distinction.  

 The Forbid Blade.  Put it down!

 The Forbid Blade...hell-forged, tear-tempered?  What did that mean?
 The terror drowned out any possibility of detailed explanation.

 Put it down!

 Only a Micron could wield it?  But why?  Surely there was something
 in this place that Microns could resist...and in this place's artifacts.
 Chalk it up to their collective consicousness...the consciousness 
 now echoing a single horrified thought...

 PUT THE FORBID BLADE DOWN!
 
 But even as Burnout joined his voice to the chorus of 
 coordinated thoughts, across the grim green reaches of nonspace,
 the time for action may already have passed...

 From a spectral figure, a colder voice...
 Cold and familiar in inflection:

 --The blade.

 ***