Wings of Light., No L and no C this time. Ok, there is quite a bit of c. Options

[jack cloudy]

Next one. Ok, several things first.
1: THIS IS NOT FANFICTION. No, this is a story taking place in an original universe. I hope no one minds.
2: Don't expect regular updates. This is an attempt at a professional novel so I want to plan it out and get all the good stuff in it. Foreshadowing, multiple plot lines, character interaction, cool hardware and a god, or maybe two.
3: Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. Also known as: Technobabble and Handwaves explain everything.
4: The laws of robotics are not implemented here. Sorry Isaac, but I want them to drive the cool stuff. They don't have time to babysit some organic wimps.



WINGS OF LIGHT

CHAPTER 1: Lights, colours, not here.

Without a sound, the SS Hesphire moved to its destination. It would have been useless to expect any sound as such a phenomenon had a hard time travelling through the vacuum of space.
,,This is your captain speaking. We are approaching the wormhole leading to the Eden system. The estimated time for our arrival is approximately half an hour from now. There will be a short burn for course corrections. We advise that all passengers strap themselves in till we’ve entered the wormhole and stabilized our course. If you require any help, our crew is willing to assist you. Thank you.” The disembodied voice echoed through speakers all over the ship.

With this announcement, everyone dropped whatever he or she was doing and moved to the observation deck. Entering a wormhole was always an exciting event for those who were new to interstellar travel. There were also those who were not new to interstellar travel. They also moved to the observation deck, though for a different reason.

Belonging to the second group was Paul Anthony Detroit. Every single cell of his body revealed him as a true veteran of space. He smoothly sailed from wall to wall, without any of the awkward bouncing of the average tourist. His clothes were tight fitting like those worn by all true space farers, yet without looking like a diver’s suit, oversized pyama or any other kind of embarrassing outfit newbies wore. The passengers he passed were mostly less successful in their choice of clothing. Wide, flowing clothes were fashionable these days yet had the unpleasant habit of getting stuck between doors or flowing away from the areas they were supposed to cover. Easy to use belts for strapping down clothes to the limbs were standard issue on civilian ships carrying passengers.

Thanks to his skill at zero g manoeuvring, he arrived well before the other passengers and secured the best place of all, the ceiling. Instantly, a steward pushed off against a wall to reach him.
,,Please mister, you may want to sit in one of the seats. Free floating during course corrections are not advised.” The young man, barely in his twenties, warned. Detroit looked down at the traditional name tag and smiled.
,,Well mister Rein, I can assure you that part of a g is not going to be a problem for me. Unless the SS Hesphire is using an illegally rigged High-performance Fusion torch and will be running multiple gees. In which case I would have to arrest everyone onboard.” He responded with the cool tone of voice that could come from only one kind of person. Military officers, the high-ranking ones.

The steward wisely backed off, allowing Detroit to enjoy the view. The man looked how everyone else entered the observation deck and got strapped in. There was some chaos but the stewards managed to get their job done and everyone strapped into a chair. He smiled again as he thought of the faces they would pull upon seeing a wormhole.
,,This is your captain speaking. We shall initiate our burn in 30 seconds. Anyone who is not yet secured should grab the nearest support and hold on for the next few minutes. Thank you.” This time, Detroit did follow the advise. He reached out and grabbed a small handle jutting out of the glass dome that covered the observation deck at the nose of the ship.

Little puffs of hydrogen jetted out of the minuscule thrusters spread across the Hesphire’s hull. The long cylindrical vehicle turned its nose around slowly. Two minutes later, the thrusters fired again to stop the rotation. Now the main thruster at the far end of the ship fired. Unlike during the turn, the acceleration caused by the main thrusters was felt by the people onboard. It felt as if you were suspended in the air under a parachute with a gentle breeze pushing you along.
,,This is your captain speaking. We are entering the wormhole in five…four…three…two…one…entering now.”

Necks were stretched in awkward positions, eyes seemed to bulge out of their sockets. The stars disappeared, to be replaced by pure darkness. Slowly, a hint of disappointment spread across the two dozen or so faces gathered on the observation deck. Detroits smile grew bigger.
,,No lights, no fancy colours, no humming sounds, no sudden acceleration. This ain’t your average holovision show. Welcome to real space. It is boring, it is slow and it rarely takes you anywhere interesting. At least you won’t find bad looking aliens with worse looking rayguns at every corner.” He spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. Then, he laughed. Yes, the passengers would be angry with him for the rest of the trip but why should he care? It would only be a week or so and then he would be back where he was supposed to be. On a ship of his own. One with guns, big guns.
“And twenty-two wormholes away from the action.”

[Lord Revan]

The stars disappeared, to be replaced by pure darkness. Slowly, a hint of disappointment spread across the two dozen or so faces gathered on the observation deck.

Lousy tourists, it's like they never research this stuff beforehand They think every thing has substance and flash.

Nice story so far Jacky, it's nice to read some original stories every now and again. I'm planning for part 3 and 4 of Revan to be in a original universe. And no I'm not offened by this made-up 'verse.

This post has been edited by Lord Revan: Oct 19 2006, 10:34 PM

[The Metal Mallet]

Well it certainly seems like you're a fan of science fiction, jack. I thought the introduction to your story was rather interesting and refreshing. I all ready have gotten an impression on Detroit's personality, and it looks like he'll be a fun character to write.

Whenever you update next, I will be looking forward to reading it. Novels certainly take a lot of work, I know I wouldn't call 'Bloodlust' a novel, but I have the impression it's all ready too long to call a short story. So I'm going to settle calling it a novella.

It'll be interesting to see what your going to do in the realm you created, especially since you're taking your time in creating it.

[Kiln]

Heh, I was humored by the way the character describes space in the last few paragraphs, good work here Jack.

I know you said you probably wouldn't update this much but please do continue when you can.

[jack cloudy]

Hmm, I'm not quite satisfied with the next bit. The talking all feels like a mess and I have to think of slowing it down. Right now, any foreshadowing is useless. Take this update for example. The final words are a bit of foreshadowing yet I reveal what they meant five seconds later. (not included in this update.) I'll have to think of something.




“So that’s what we need you to do. Any questions?” The bulky man leaned down on the desk an stared his guest straight into the eyes. The other man shrugged. He was used to this kind of treatment.
“Just one. You said that there was enough mass in there to be counted as a planet and you said that it was one heck of a dense field. So when did that planet get busted?” He responded casually. He then ignored his employer as he went over to the coffee machine.
“According to our simulations, the planet was shattered approximately 760 years ago. We don’t quite know what caused it though we assume that a high-speed impact with a very large comet or perhaps even a moon was what did it.”
“Geez, that’s robbing the grave before it’s been dug. On a cosmic scale. Sounds like fun.” The bulky man frowned at the visitor’s back.
“I would have preferred to hire a human. These Genos are freaking me out.”
“Just get the job done. That’s what I’m paying you for.” He grumbled.

The Geno waved goodbye and got out of the room as fast as he could. Even after all these years, humans were still fearful of their own creations. That was an obstacle he couldn’t overcome.
“It’s probably one of the reasons why I like space. No one who bothers you there. On the other hand, it can get damn lonely sometimes.” He thought to himself with a hint of sadness in his eyes. When he climbed through the airlock, that sadness vanished without a trace. His ship might not be an example of neatness or style, but it was his own. This time, he would be flying with a passenger.

“Ready to disembark and explore the seas?” He joked to the man who was already waiting impatiently.
“I’ve been ready for hours. Why are you Genos so freaking slow? As if taking away our jobs isn’t good enough. And what’s with the name?” The bearded bodybuilder complained. The Geno took on an angry expression.
“Oh, are we going to play by those rules? I came, so be grateful. Then, we do not take your jobs. There is only one Geno for 5 million humans so if anyone is taking your job, it’s probably your Gorilla nephew. And finally, Glorious Rustbucket is a nice name to give to a ship. Now shut up and sit down before you make me decide on a 2.7 g burn all the way there.” He snapped back. He then rolled his eyes.
“This is going to be a long trip.”


In the meantime, several lightyears away, Detroit had just transferred to a military shuttle. The people from the SS Hesphire were happy to see him go. Military personell had a bad effect on the morale of everyone else.
“So, sir. Did you read the files we sent you?” An aging man asked him. Detroit shook his head.
“I stopped after reading the registration of the ship, admiral. I’ve been in command of four vessels now. In the end, they’re all the same on paper.” He answered while looking out of the window.

The admiral chuckled.
“But you aren’t familiar with this one. There was an article about the AMF-13 type in Captain’s Log, a few months ago. Did you read it?” He asked the only slightly younger captain. Detroit shook his head again.
“I don’t read magazines, even the ones that are about my work area.” This response caused the admiral to chuckle again.
“Maybe you should have.”
“It’s useless to read about a whole class. You need to be onboard to learn the details. All ships are unique, admiral. You know that.” Detroit spoke absentmindedly. He didn’t hear the admiral’s response.
“Especially this one, especially this one.”

[The Metal Mallet]

Hmm this new race you introduced seems rather interesting. He sounds quite human so far, excluding that fact that their race is very few. I wonder what's so fearful about him...

I look forward to what's going to be revealed in the next update.

[jack cloudy]

No updates yet, I thought I would just give a bit of explanation about the human technology base here in WoL. (Crap, only one letter away from WOW. AAGHH!)

Propulsion: Propulsion comes in several forms though it can be slapped into two categories. Nuclear and non-nuclear with nuclear being the choice for long duration burns. Civilian ships are all limited to less than one g. Not because they can't pull more, but because of some obscure law. Military ships are generally capable of reaching a lovely 4.6 g though that's only in case of 'violent' situations.
There is one more category of propulsion, but that one has proven to be quite unstable and is not used. At least, that's the official story. *hint, hint*

Gravity: There is no such thing as artificial gravity like the kind that is commonly found in sci-fi. Humans use what is called Hard Science-fiction. So the only way to make gravity onboard a ship is trough either spinning or acceleration. As a result, the deck layout of a ship is like that of a skyscraper with the big engine at the bottom.

STL (Slower-than-light) travel: This is the normal kind of maneouvring. It involves a lot of slingshot maneouvres and getting the most out of your ship without thrusting. Military ships have the fuel reserves needed for interplanetary flights with the engine on all the way. (Going from say, Earth-Jupiter in just a few weeks instead of years) Still, all flight is as slow as it is now unless there is some emergency.

FTL (Faster-than-light) travel: All of mankinds experiments with technical gadgets to break the light barrier have been unsuccessful. So the only known way of going to the stars quickly is through wormholes. These are natural links between two places. There's nothing fancy about them, they best resemble a tunnel through a mountain. The time it takes to pass through a wormhole depends on the length of the tunnel (which is directly related to the distance between the two entry points in normal space.) and the speed of the ship. A funny departure from traditional wormholes is their general uselessness. 93,673% of all wormholes emerge in deep space, lightyears away from the nearest star. So mapping out wormhole routes is one heck of a frustrating job.

Now finally, a short word about the Genos. There are several aliens in the story and Genos are the most human-like of the bunch. That's all I'm going to tell about them right now.

[jack cloudy]

Update time!


Detroit smiled faintly. It felt good to have gravity under his feet again, even if it was caused by rotating a giant ring. He took a short look around before turning to the admiral.
“Goodbye, sir.” He said formally and was about to walk off when he felt the admiral’s hand on his shoulder.
“I just thought you wanted to know. There is a prelaunch celebration going on at the Starview café. Most of your crew should be there.” The old man told him with a sparkle in his eyes. He remembered his own celebrations. They were either very wild or very calm and formal, depending on the personality of the highest ranking officer around. Detroit nodded.
“I’ll go take a look after I’ve done my medical checkup.”

The hospital was small yet state-of-the-art. Detroit took a moment to sniff the unique scent of overwhelming hygiene and medicine, complete with a bit of ozon coming from all the electrical devices. He then stepped forward to the nurse who sat behind the desk.
“Paul Anthony Detroit. Number 129-758-463. I’m here for the check-up.” He said calmly. The nurse smiled at him.
“The doctor is already waiting inside. I hope you’ll like your ship, captain. It has been the only point of discussion for weeks now among the techheads.” She said and then shrugged.
“My husband works at the shipyard. He has been annoying me about it ever since he first got the chance to see it. Seriously, I would start worrying that he was cheating on me if it was a woman.” She added with a chuckle.

Detroit walked through the door.
“Ah yes, captain Detroit I presume? I’ve already read your medical file and everything seems to be fine. Do you have anything to say to me?” The doctor spoke. Detroit understood that making jokes would not fall well with this man.
“Nothing at all. Just a bit of weakness in the legs. It’s been a few months since I last enjoyed gravity.”

Several scans, a skin sample and an urine test later, Detroit walked out of the hospital.
“Now didn’t the admiral say that my crew was having a celebration at the Starview café? It wouldn’t be a waste of time to meet some of the people who will be following my orders.” He thought as he made his way to the other side of the ring. It was a ten minute walk till he saw the neon sign hanging above the door.

The celebration in this case turned out to be reasonably calm, despite the large amount of alcohol being consumed. Detroit slowly walked to the center of the room where he cleared his voice. One of the people standing nearby saw him and shouted over the music.
“Hey, the captain is here! Pay attention!”
Detroit smiled.
“Thank you. Now, I believe it is my place to give a speech here. Since we all hate speeches, I’ll keep it short. This is likely my last command before retirement to a desk job. So I hope we don’t run into any problems. Fortunately, we are quite a few lightyears away from any troublespots so I have no doubts that I will survive. Now the most important thing is, could anyone get me something to drink?”
The man standing next to him spoke again.
“You heard him. Drinks are on me! Whoever gets the man his beer will get two beers himself!” He shouted. He then turned to the com unit mounted on the wall that had absorbed his attention before the captain arrived.

“How about you, do you want anything?” He asked.
“Well, what about a paintjob? I could really use one.” Was the answer from the other side. The man frowned.
“A paintjob? Why do you need a paintjob?” He asked warily.
“Oh, I’ve got some very good arguments. Maybe you want to hear them in a private discussion? You can play around with my internals as much as you like.”
The man laughed.
“Ok, deal!” He said before bolting out of the door.

Detroit looked out of the window. There wasn’t much to see beyond the stars. He then looked down at his feet. The floor, outer wall and the roof of the Starview café were all transparent. Right below him, there was a huge deepblue wedge. Several spots shone on the gleaming surface. Detroit’s eyes followed the smooth curves, starting at the nose and moving along the hull till he saw the round engines, each looking as if they could move a planet. His eyes landed on the registry painted on the bow. AMF-13-46. The name was painted nearby. TMS Crystal Star.
Detroit whistled.
“I can see that the Techheads love this thing. It’s big, really big and much smoother than the usual flying brick. I can’t wait to get onboard.” He shook his head. “I can take it out for a spin later. Right now, let’s just enjoy a cold beer.”








And now, enjoy this little gift. I wished my computer could actually run Poser so I could make pictures of the characters. Oh well, I guess that means you are limited to enjoying the hardware. So meet, the TMS Crystal Star.

[The Metal Mallet]

Ooooo sexy ship, I wouldn't mind being in that thing if the journey was safe.

As for the update: wonderful! I can't wait to see where this story goes from here.

[jack cloudy]

Sexy? You should see the other ships. I'll try to make a model of those. Now some of them are what I would call really sexy. Ahem, enjoy the short update.


The Geno sitting behind the controls of the ‘Glorious Rustbucket’ stirred.
,,Hmm, nothing beats a good nap. So, what’s the big deal? All I heard was that you found a recently cracked planet and wanted me to go take a closer look.” He said while stifling a yawn. His human companion rolled his eyes.
,,What if I tell you that it is a secret?” He grunted, not really interested in a conversation. The Geno laughed.

,,Listen, monkeyboy. I’m a Geno. I’ve dealt with secrets before I could walk. Which means, within ten seconds after getting out of my tank.” He countered. The human sighed.
,,Alright, you’ve got a point. Our point is that our telescopes picked up artificial objects resting on some of the bigger pieces. Also, you may have noticed that dustcloud orbiting at high speed. High enough relative speed, and even a fleck of dust will tear through this bucket like a knife through butter. Well, our techs also revealed an empty ‘corridor’ of sorts, about 87 metres wide. The Daedalos doesn’t stand a chance in hell at squeezing through.”
,,So you want me to squeeze through instead since the Glorious Rustbucket is both smaller and capable of pulling a few more gees.” The Geno interrupted.
,,Sure, no problem. I was meant for stuntflying anyway. Got any specific locations you want to visit?” He continued.

The human looked into the being’s pitchblack eyes.
,,If I told you that that corridor drops us off in a relatively empty bit of space within spitting distance of a continent-sized rock with a mostly intact wreck on it, would you believe me?” He inquired. He grinned when the Geno looked surprised.
,,Wreck? You mean as in, spaceship that made a rough landing?” He stammered. He then grinned widely.
,,Now that sounds damn cool. I can’t wait!”
The Human shrugged.
,,Just make sure we don’t get a rough landing of our own.” He said dryly.

Detroit winced and clutched his head.
“Too much alcohol yesterday. Ow, I hate hangovers.” He thought as he checked the time. Seeing that eight hours had passed since he went to bed, he got up and entered the bathroom. Ten minutes later, he’d showered, brushed his teeth and stepped out of the door fully dressed in his uniform. Forty years of experience in a military organisation had made him an expert at quick hygiene.

He moved to the required airlock at a running pace. Seeing as how his work involved long terms of zero gravity with short terms of intense gravity, he trained his muscles at every chance he got.
,,Airlock 26. That’s the one.” He muttered and pressed the small button next to the door. The door slid open, allowing him to pass. The guard standing on the other side snapped a salute which Detroit returned. Apparently his face had been shown to those who needed to know. That was fine with him, he absolutely couldn’t stand delays.

Detroit took a moment to look at the empty corridor stretching out before him. He felt how he was beginning to sweat due to barely controlled excitement. Getting a new command always produced this feeling. He sniffed up the air that would fill his lungs for the next few months and then listened to see if he heard anyone. The only sound was the soft whisper of the air flowing through the ship. Everything else was silence. Detroit shrugged. Perhaps he was simply early. He certainly wasn’t the only one with a hangover from last night’s party.

A loud thumping approached him from behind. Detroit turned around to see how a short spider-like robot clattered around. It unfolded one of its many arms and detached a wallpanel, revealing the complex electronics behind it. Detroit watched with interest how the robot crawled into the mess of wires. Little sparks pointed out where its arms were working.

,,Excuse me.”
Detroit looked in all directions but failed to see the source of the voice.
,,Excuse me. Are you by chance the captain of this ship?” The voice said. Detroit now knew where it was coming from. He moved over to the nearest communication unit mounted on the wall.
,,Yes, I am. Why didn’t you contact me earlier?” He asked a bit annoyed for the delay. It was tradition that the captain’s arrival was announced when he came onboard.
,,Sorry, local intercom connections were busted. I’ve got ARU-179 working on it to your right. Anyway, it will be a while before the crew has boarded. You could go to the observation deck. There’s a lovely view of the local planet.” The voice informed him. Detroit looked at the robot once more.
,,Apologies accepted. I’ll be up on the observation deck in a few moments. Perhaps we could meet there in person?” He answered.
,,Sorry but no. That would be quite…inconvenient right now. Well, enjoy the view.”

As the robot sealed the wall, Detroit walked away. Soon again, the only sound was that of the air flowing and a soft thumping of robotic feet.

[The Metal Mallet]

Oooo, things are starting to develope with that Geno creature. A wreak eh? Must be something important on it...

Well written and easy to follow; signs of a good read! Continue as soon as you can!

[jack cloudy]

The continuation. Detroit meets his greatest foe.


Chapter 2: Far away from home.

The Human watched his Geno companion with nothing short of amazement. The being’s hands flew over the consoles, tapping buttons and flicking switches, all while whistling a complex tune.
“How do you do all that?” He asked, his voice struggling to get past his throat that was being squeezed shut at every dizzying turn. The Geno stopped whistling for a moment.
“Type-678 military Geno. I’m optimized for combat manoeuvres, targeting, fleet coordination, damage control and a healthy dose of multitasking. I’ve been designed, programmed and trained so I can do about a hundred different things, all at the same time. Not too bad for something based on the human genetic pattern, eh?” He replied with a smug grin. He then continued whistling as he pulled the Glorious Rustbucket through another twist of the ‘corridor’.

Finally, the smooth metal dart cleared the path through the swirling cloud of dust. It turned around and fired the large thrusters at its back to slow down. The human rubbed the sore parts of his body as he took in a few deep breaths.
“The wreck is located on the largest asteroid, approximately fifty kilometres from the southern tip. Please take it easy this time, I’m not born for high-g manoeuvres.” He informed his companion. The Geno grinned and jabbed towards the back of the cabin with a thumb.
“Just fire up the coffeemachine. The next forty minutes will be a smooth run with nothing but gravity to steer us by. Ever heard about decaying orbits? Well, we’re in one now.”

Detroit gazed down on the planet below. He wasn’t alone on the observation deck. There were two astronavigators working on a portable telescope and one of the spiderlike ARU robots was cleaning the windows.
“Paradise, the only non-earth planet that was completely habitable right from its discovery in 2346. Local lifeforms are all single-celled organisms, though most of them have been wiped out by imported earth lifeforms, including plants and multi-celled organisms like a horse. Current population is hovering around eleven million with two million living in the planet’s capital, Heavenly Garden. The naming system used around here is a throwback to the Christian religion that has been losing influence since the late 20th century. It makes it awfully clear that most people consider this place a paradise and a good place to spend your vacation. The booze is lousy though.” Detroit looked at the communication unit nearby with a hint of annoyance.
“I didn’t ask for a lecture.” He said sharply.
“Well, sorry dude. I’m just trying to be helpful. As the ships AI, keeping people from pulling the plug is a very high priority on my list.” The voice responded through the speaker.

Detroit was surprised, yet he hid it behind a stony expression. He had heard of Artificial intelligences before, but none of them could actually pretend to be human for any length of time. Their vocabulary was limited and they always had a trademark neutral voice. Not this one.
“Really? And how often does this priority make you act like a serious pain in the behind? And I prefer to be called captain, not dude.” He spoke quizzically.
“Whatever you want, captain dude. Frankly, I’m always seen as a pain in the behind, except when I’m saving your lives.” The AI cheerfully said.

Detroit rolled his eyes.
“I said to call me captain, not dude. Where’s your plug? I think I’m going to pull it out right now.” He snapped with a harsh voice.
“I am calling you captain, captain dude. Sorry, but I’m not going to tell you where to find the plug. Self-preservation is a very high priority as I already said.” The AI answered stubbornly.
Detroit gave up and turned his eyes back to the planet.
“Just shut up before I activate the self-destruct sequence. Then I won’t need to find the damn plug.”

The next few minutes were silent, much to the captain’s relief. He absentmindedly noticed a large storm over the ocean. White clouds spiralled around the central eye, moving slowly to the southeast.
“It looks like the landlubbers are in for a rough week.” He muttered.
“Not necessarily.” The AI interrupted. Detroit’s eyes shot back to the communication unit.
“I told you to shut up! I know enough about the weather to know what kind of wind and rain this is going to bring.” He barked.
“Though the storm can be dispersed beforehand by a single salvo of precisely aimed explosives. It’s really a piece of cake that can be done within the hour. It would cause some global reconstruction of the climate from paradise to hell but that’s only an unimportant detail.”
Detroit winced.
“Let’s not fire our explosives. Now shut up!” He shouted with his face redhot from anger. The last words from the AI only managed to make him even angrier.
“Humans, they’re so simpleminded. Yup, an outdated chapter in the story of evolution.”

[The Metal Mallet]

Haha, a very humourous update today Jack. Nice stuff! I can certainly see why the AI would be Detroit's worse enemy if it acts like that.

I also noticed that you've changed your punctuation for when characters speak to what's normally seen on these forums. Why the change?

[mplantinga]

I don't usually read the non-fanfics on the boards, but I needed a break so I thought I'd take a gander at this one. So far, I'm quite intrigued. I'm particularly curious about the Genos, who sound like they are quite amazing. I'll keep an eye on this one to see where it goes.

[jack cloudy]

Thank you all. Now as for the punctuation, I had problems with it in one of my other stories. You see, When it rains, it pours chapter 2 was rejected due to 'warped opening quotation marks'. After a bit of research, I concluded that the people of Elfwood meant that the thingies should be floating high instead of low. I learned to open low and end high when quoting at school. It's just a case of no longer being stubborn.

And yes, I do plan on posting it there after finishing. (Which is a long time from now.)
Anyway, our AI gets a name!




The coffeemachine announced the completion of its task with a loud ping. The Geno moved over to it and released two blobs of coffee which he scooped up with a pair of plastic cups.
“Now the trick to drinking in zero gravity with a cup is that you prevent the coffee from flying away by angling the cup.” He explained while demonstrating. The human chuckled as he took his cup. Upon his first attempt, the coffee shot up and splashed into his face.
“Ouch! That’s hot!” He yelled and grabbed for a towel.

“Anyway, I was wondering. Are you sure this is going to work?” He asked a bit later. The Geno took one last sip from his coffee.
“What do you mean? No one told me I had to land on the rock. The Bucket simply isn’t meant for that. The only way to get close enough to go take a look at that wreck personally is by hovering on the thrusters.” He answered, not quite sure what the human was trying to tell him.

The human shook his head.
“No, that’s not it. I understand the bit of balancing on a pillar of superheated gas. What I mean is, you just coded a program for this, barehanded and without any manual to check for references. I know I can’t code even if my life depends on it but what if your program has a glitch? Our lives depend on it. What if the Bucket flips and burns us alive with its exhaust or worse, shoots off into space? At least the fiery death is faster than choking when the air runs out.” He elaborated. Now the Geno understood the man’s worries.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ve done this before during operation GGF.”

The human wondered what GGF meant but decided not to ask. To his surprise, the Geno answered on his own.
“GGF stands for ‘Gas Giant Fishing’. It happened a few years back when I was in control of the TMS Black Hole. Anyway, I brought the ship into the atmosphere of the gas giant and even hovered in place for a few moments using the thrusters before pushing back up into open space. We got in…..and out.” He spoke and then fell silent.
“But look at the mess it ended in.” He thought bitterly.

Without a word, the Geno left the kitchen. When the human had finished his coffee, he went to search for his companion who he finally found in the cockpit. Complex lines of coding flickered across a display, becoming further refined with each tap of a button.



Nothing managed to relax Detroid more than looking at a planet from orbit. So, despite his anger, he calmed down within just a few moments. Soon, he’d completely forgotten about himself. He let out a tired sigh.

A dirty man with the standard uniform of a techhead, a belt filled with all sorts of tools, ran up to the observation deck. He skidded to a halt in front of his captain and snapped a salute.
“Sir! Karl Forest, A-class Techhead. The lady wanted to let you know that all crew is onboard and all supplies have been loaded. She’s requesting permission to detach from our dockingport and move into a geostationary orbit to commence the loading of military supplies, the things that go boom. We are then to proceed to a rendez-vous point at one lighthour distance where we will receive our full supply of fuel.” He shouted loudly. Detroit frowned, he didn’t enjoy being disturbed. As such, his voice was slightly cool when he responded.
“And why did the lady send you instead of asking me personally?” Detroit asked with a raised eyebrow.

Forest looked at his feet, his cheeks turning a bright red.
“Well, you see. The lady is Soul, our AI. She uh…You told her to shut up, sir.” He stammered. Detroit let out a weary sigh.
“Whatever. So our AI has a name? Hmm, Soul. Now that’s a fitting name. That’s one thing a machine will never have.” He spoke, the anger returning to his voice.
“Just tell it that it has permission to do that. And also tell it that it has permission to speak when it is directly related to duty.” He added, already turning away.

Forest stared at his captain’s back for a moment and then shrugged.
“You heard him.” He said into the air.
“I sure did, dude. Did you know that you are cute when you’re blushing?” Every face on deck turned to the communication unit. Forest’s cheeks turned even redder.
“Nothing to see here, people! Just hold on to something for support while the lady takes us into orbit!” He shouted. He then descended through the entrance shaft as fast as he could.

“I’ll get you for that. You just ruined my reputation.” He whispered once he was away.
“Hey, I’m sorry. Look, I like the paintjob you gave me earlier and I really think you’re cute. So I could make it up to you. What’s your bank account? I have some very good hardware for hacking purposes. How does Karl Forest, the billionaire sound?” Soul said from the nearest speaker. The techhead rolled his eyes.
“No thank you, just a sorry and the chance to work on the latest and hottest piece of technology in the universe is enough for me. Besides, people would get suspicious from that. No lottery goes as high as a billion.” Forest laughed.

This post has been edited by jack cloudy: Nov 10 2006, 07:46 PM

[The Metal Mallet]

When we first met the AI, I thought it had a male personality. I guessed wrong; must've been the "dude" part that threw me off. Still, it's a rather interesting "character".

Keep it up!

[Lord Revan]

I can see that this hardware to wetware couple won't be like a MC to Cortana relationship...... LOL!!

[jack cloudy]

Finally, the next update. Lots of talking in this one.




The Glorious Rustbucket shot off, back into space.
“There she goes. It looks like your program works, for now.” The human commented as he watched the ship shrink into a tiny dot. Once the Bucket had disappeared beyond the horizon, he redirected his gaze towards the alien wreck that was half submerged inside the rock.
“Alright, my job is mapping wormholes while you are the military type with knowledge of how to blow up things in the most spectacular fashion possible. So what do you make of this thing?” He asked the Geno.

The Geno took the time to inspect the hulk before drawing any conclusions.
“A simple design. Nothing fancy but it gets the job done. A metal frame holding all the necessary systems like fueltanks and the combustion chamber, no exterior shell to cover everything up. The crew area is as far away from the engine as possible which appears to be an early fusion variant, if that oversized radiationshield says anything. It has been modified somewhere in its life to hold a small missile box. Easy to attach and eject, can fire a lot of explosives quickly but not handy for any fight longer than a single salvo. It also has serious reload issues.” He spoke flatly without any emotion. His eyes focussed on every single detail he saw. Now he was examining the rock it was embedded in.

“I think that these guys or girls ,or whatever gender would be most appropriate, pissed off the wrong people. If you can built interplanetary spaceships, you don’t need to worry about a meteor big enough to crack the planet. Anything like that would be stopped and redirected before it got even close. No need to weld on a bunch of little improvised missiles. No, whatever did this was definitely a lot worse. When the planet cracked, its outer surface had turned into a liquid state. This ship tried to get away but couldn’t get enough acceleration to escape the big brick heading its way. That’s why it is half inside the rock, the lava sealed it in with the back end first before cooling off and turning into solid rock. It did manage to lower the relative velocity enough to survive mostly intact, with the exception of the bits that have gotten into contact with the lava.”

Both men gazed upon the mysterious wreck some more. What the Geno had said sounded right, though it was also frightening. The power to destroy planets was nothing new. In warfare, it all came down on sending a projectile at such high velocities that the kinetic force from the impact shattered the target. This principle could be upscaled pretty much without any limits. The only practical limit was the amount of thrust required to bring a projectile to the required speed needed to shatter a planet. Even with the most advanced engines available, such an undertaking would require truly massive amounts of fuel. Who, or what, was willing to go this far?

The human looked at the crewpod at the far end.
“Now that shape looks vaguely familiar. I can’t be sure though.” He muttered.
“Hydras. No way to mistake that shape for anything else.” Was everything the Geno said in response. The human’s eyes widened. Hydras, the only known sentient race besides humans and also the only ones who had been involved in a galactic war for the last few decades. He shivered as his mind conjured the well-known image of a snakelike creature with three tentacles at the front, just like the Hydra Heracles fought in the stories. But the alien itself wasn’t the only frightening thought.

“So they had spaceflight centuries before we had. I don’t know what’s more scary, the fact that the Hydras were already out in space back then or the fact that we somehow managed to close the technology gap.” The man muttered. The Geno nodded silently, his eyes now fixated on a small sphere that hung in the center of the skeletal frame.
“True, their ships are better than ours, though not by much. The war isn’t all that exciting nowadays. We just send a swarm of missiles down the wormhole whenever one of the snakes tries to come trough. What bothers me is that we found a Hydra ship all the way here, nearly thirty wormholes from the frontier.” He complained.
“You know what? This thing can’t have gotten that far, it’s too primitive. I think we might just have found the Hydra homeplanet, or what’s left of it.”

This post has been edited by jack cloudy: Dec 10 2006, 10:28 PM

[The Metal Mallet]

Ooooo a new race is revealed, one that isn't very nice to the humans it seems. It's also an interesting prospect to know that they were actually close-by in the space.

Great work jack!

[jack cloudy]

And we skip back to Detroit and co.





Detroit had retired to his office the moment the Crystal Star had abandoned orbit. With the excitement of the launch fading, the monotony of everyday work settled in. In his case, this work consisted of reading countless files and reports. Even being as far away from the frontlines as was possible, the paperwork hadn’t diminished at all. In fact, being in command of what was arguably the most advanced and complicated warship in the universe only served to increase the load.

The man let out a weary sigh as he observed the latest list showing the position of every ship in the system.
,,TMS Clarity just came in and has engaged on its course to the rendez-vous.” He muttered to himself and checked his watch.
,,Looks like we’ll meet tomorrow at 0800. File signed and progressed, next please.” He spoke louder to the screen on his desk.
[Next up is the monthly log of relay 1456. AC 8.] The screen blinked at him with simple green letters on a black background. Before their relation became too hostile, the AI and he had agreed to a cease-fire and moved to using text messages for communicating, much to Detroit’s relief.

He frowned. AC 8 was not part of the message, as indicated by the red colour Soul used for it. Alarm code 8, commonly translated as: ‘Something isn’t feeling right but I don’t know what.’
,,Alright, what is it? Blew a fuse?” He asked after having taken a moment to think over the possible reasons. None of them stood out, seeing as how they were rather far away from the normal lines of traffic. That removed the possibility for an external reason, leaving only internal reasons. In the case of the Crystal Star, it was probably a mechanical defect.
[AM fuel storage does have a few problems, it is being worked on. No, the reason is something relay 1458 just transmitted.]

The small screen lit up with a simple representation of the system. Wormholes were drawn as thin blue lines, a blinking dot next to one of them. The captain took in his bearings.
,,That’s away from controlled space. A mapping expedition?” He now asked, taking the only plausible explanation.
[MEAS Daedalos, standard wormhole mapping program. They’ve contacted a private contractor to investigate the remains of a stellar object up close. The remains of a planet roughly one and a half times the size of earth. Possible identification of Hydra vessel.]
Detroit blinked a few times. Hydras, here? They should be at least twenty-two wormholes and over sixty lightyears away from here. The only reason why there was a military presence here was because the system contained the only known earthlike planet.

,,Right. I want a full report, now.” He ordered.
[Sure, dude. One report coming right up.] Detroit blinked again when his screen was flooded by a large mess of numbers and terms only a computer could comprehend.
,,In a readable format, please.” He explained, surpressing a sigh. He couldn’t blame Soul. Even after all the advances in AI systems, there were still a few communication problems between the computer and its human user. As such, he’d always learned to keep his orders either simple or so detailed that there was no possibility for a wrong interpretation.
[I’m not programmed for that. Please wait while I contact the experts. Your report should be available by tomorrow. Don’t worry, the Hydra contact is a dead one. It won’t paint you with a missile.]

Forest reached out behind him.
,,Screwdriver, please.” He said without looking at the ARU robot sitting behind him. When the screwdriver still hadn’t been pressed into his hand after five seconds, he did look up, bumping his head against a pipe in the process.
,,Ow! I asked for a wrench but I now think I’d prefer an aspirine.” He grumbled, rubbing the sore spot.
,,Listen, sweetie. I’m so in big trouble!” Soul yelled at him in a genuinely desperate tone.
,,I told you not to overclock your processor.” Forest joked but stopped laughing when the ARU hit him with the screwdriver he’d asked for a moment earlier.

,,The captain dude wants me to write a report and I told him I’m not programmed for it. I need someone to help me, preferably someone I like. You.” Forest’s mouth fell open at the demand.
,,Huh?” He muttered, still trying to take it in. He wasn’t a software specialist, but that wasn’t necessary to understand which bit was wrong.
,,I know, I am programmed for it. I lied to him. It’s just that, how can I explain to a human the concept of trust when said human sees you as nothing more than a dumb collection of wires and processors?” Soul admitted reluctantly.

Forest stabbed a finger at the ARU.
,,Hold it, you lied?! They built a computer that can lie?! And you know that the captain doesn’t like to be called dude.” He spoke with a stern voice. The robot emitted a few sharp curses.
,,Duh, that’s why I call him like that. It’s better than calling him a flatnosed gibbon. And I can lie, it’s part of what allows us to understand such things as sarcasm, humour, rhetorical questions and all that other stuff that would make an older model self-destruct without thinking. Now can you help? The matter happens to roll over a whole lot of military secrets I can’t reveal.” The AI then told the still dumbfounded Techhead.
,,Ok, I’ll help. Just one more thing. If those are confidential secrets, then why are you telling me?” He wanted to know, still looking at the ARU.
,,Because I like you, remember? Besides, technical details regarding the NLO-AI, that means me, just happens to be one of those secrets I’m telling about. Now get moving and grab a shower. I’ll finish up the work here with the ARU.”