I think Marshal Seldon knows a thing or two about this guy:
As Ironclad Cochrance moves out, I suggest this soundtrack
New dashboard toy?
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More thisssâŚ
Captain Lord Fritz is relaxing on the bridge. Shaped like half of a sphere, the room is an intense, clean white. Behind Fritz are three doors, one to his private quarters, one to the inter-deck transportation tubes, and the other that leads to the rest of deck 3. Two color guards in their red exo-skeletons frame either side off the center door. Situated slightly forward of the center of the ship, the bridge is the most protected area of the Grey Mouser. The walls are devoid of details except for a rotating selection of framed motivational posters. The one with the kitten holding onto a tree limb that says, âHang on, baby, Fridayâs coming!â is Fritzâs favorite. The forward quarter of the sphere houses the huge main holo-screen. While most data is transferred and interacted with via personal HUD screens, the main screen has a very soothing screen saver of butterflies alighting on flowers and is used for Power Point presentations.
Fritz is perched in his captains chair, approximately 3 feet above the floor⌠On either side of the captain, but at floor level, are two chairs than recess into the floor when not in use. These are used for guests or when a specialized officer, such as science, is requested on deck. In front of him in a semi-circle are the 6 bridge officers: Navigation, Tactical, Weapons, Communications, Engineering, and the First Officer. Each recline in their chairs, legs slightly elevated while strapped into a 5-point harness with their hands neatly folded in their laps. One might think them dead or hibernating, except for the occasional head movement or the hum of an internal micro-servo. At their sides is a cup holder for their rare earth metal infused smoothies (the captainâs chair has two of these).
During normal operations, it is a quite peaceful room. Most work and commands are done silently, nearly automatically as each one is locked into the shipâs network. There is verbal communication, but most of it is casual. Vital commands are all done instantly - silently.
âHrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmmâŚâ
âYes, Lt. Marvin?â Lt. Marvin swivels his seat around to address the captain.
âHave you been monitoring the comm chatter, captain?â
âNot in the last few hours, why?â Instantly a small flood of recent messages surge into Fritzâs data steam. A few are flagged and high lighted.
âWhat, what is this? I donât even - Have they gone full SpaceRetard?â
âIt appears the Senescent Wanderer is planning a full assault on the Scylla.â
âIt will be a slaughter!â
âThatâs the spirit, captain!â
âNo, THEIR slaughter! We donât have accurate schematics on the Scylla yet, but from the previous class of warship there is no way a ship of that size could hope to make a dent in their shields.â
âPerhaps theyâre depress and just want to end it all? I can relate. One time I nursed a baby rabbit back to health and let him go in a field, only to see him snatched by an eagle. It was horrible. I tried to jump off of an 80 ft cliff, but only managed to chip my face plate.â
âPerhaps. Could it be mal-ware? Tainted algorithms? Running on SpaceApple hardware? Didnât we offer a nanobot scanning and reprogramming kit?â
âThat was another android captain.â
âReally? What is up with the substandard logic and behavior routines? Do their makers have no pride?â
âNot everyone is blessed with their maker being the Supreme Intelligence.â
âThat is true. Speaking of the Supreme Intelligence, has it responded to our request yet?â
There is a small pause before Marvin replies, âNo, sir.â
Fritz stands up, his dark purple exo-skeleton stretches out to his full seven foot height. âWell⌠Iâm sure itâs very⌠busy.â
âOr perhaps bleeding out some where in a ditch on the side of the road.â
Fritz knew that wasnât the case. The Supreme Intelligence had no corporeal form, much less blood. âAnd the Quantum Communications Network is intact?â
âYes sir, we have full streaming with maximum encryption and no data corruption. I did receive notice that the crewâs backups were up today and on full real time streaming.â
That was good news. The Quantum Communications System is the most advanced in the galaxy. Using quantum entanglement, a network has been set up where data can be transferred instantly across any distance. Whether there is a direct link, or a million jumps through a network, data transfer is instantaneous. Unless a node is compromised, it is impossible to intercept these messages. The Supreme Intelligence has scatter nodes through out the known universe, devouring ever bit of data that is produced, from little Jimmy searching for three breasted lizard on human porn, to the latest Rambo movie, to traffic data on highway 893 on Roc IV. Nothing to mundane or trivial is ignored. Data is data and it must be consumed.
If he had a stomach, Fritz would feel something in the pit of it about now. He wasnât afraid of destruction. There was a 99% chance that his conscience would be preserved within .001ms of his destruction. A 99.99999% chance that it would be preserved within 30 seconds of his destruction. But the Mouser is his, and he would hate to lose her. Even if he managed to cycle back onto the explorer circuit, there was little chance of him being randomly assigned to captain again.
âSo what should we do, captain?â
âDo?â Fritz flops back down into his chair and takes a sip of smoothie (mmm promethium and Strawberry, his favorite). "Well there is little we can do. If we donât hear back from the Supreme Intelligence soon, we can assume that our request was denied - "
âOr that itâs dead in a ditch.â
âYes, or that itâs dead in a ditch somewhere. Send a message to the Senescent Wanderer and offer our nanobot scanning and programming kits. I doubt you will hear a reply - or at least one where they accept it.â
âCaptain did you also see where Quisquiliae sStruem will attempt to join the Scylla? Potentially having three factions together in the same area.â
âYes. Similar to my Death Blossom scheme - but more of a cluster fuck if you ask me.â
âWhat should we do in that contingency?â
âWe will continue with the mission. Our ship is mediocre at best. We need upgrades from Pete. I want us to keep our distance from the Scylla, while not looking like weâre keeping our distance, while we run every probe and scan we have. You know, fly casual.â
âAnd if there is a suicide mission or an attack?â
âWell, we just pull the âSir Robinâ maneuver. I want to stay in and get as much data as possible, but the second we take fire we are out of there. I donât want us attacking anyone at this point. We can claim a severe weapons malfunction and get the hell out of dodge. The ICUP may end up bitching for abandoning our post, but Iâm not getting paid enough to die. Besides, in the chaos I doubt we will be missed.â
âI reasonable plan sure. Iâm sure everything will go just great. I will give a complete run down of protocols to the crew. If they have loved ones or unpaid bar tabs I will remind everyone to get their affairs in order.â
âOh Marvin, cheer up.â Marvinâs head tilts, and one imagines a frown forming on his blank face plate, before turning around and placing his hands in his lap.
âMarvin. Hey Marvin. Maaaarrrrvvviiiinnnn. MARVIN!â
Marvinâs chair whirls around, ,âWhat?!â
âHang on, baby, Fridayâs coming!â
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Actually, Iâm smirking, so this is more appropriate
I love this song!
This one is good too.
ETA - as for battle music, we prefer something Harsher, like Grendel.
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OrâŚ
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Your concern for my systems integrity is touching.
I am an sane as I ever have been. As in⌠not very. You donât do the things Iâve done and stay sane.
Iâm going in, Iâm going to get blown to shreds, and you will be able to pick apart my corpse for indications of the capabilities, mindsets, attitudes and expectations lurking deep down in the Scyllaâs adamantine guts.
If youâre within splash-distance - say, 1000 klicks - Iâd be obliged if you could dust up any elements of lurking Matroyska hardware you find.
Backups, duplicates and all that.
Muddlinâ Through
$50,440 starting balance
+$214 contribution from Flatulent Deity for attempting to rescue Pete
-$24,000 âSave Pedgeâ account at Endogenic Escrow
-$10,000 2x Zot Guns (+10 FP)
-$5,000 scrambler (+5 ST)
-$11,500 23 x 500 Hull Density improvemnt (+23 HP)
$154 ending balance
Mission 4: Space Cadet
About that Escrow. The Escrow instructions were to disperse the money based on public commitments in time for the money to be used before the mission. So it is possible that some ship will take the money but not perform mission 1. I knew that when I set up the escrow. I had my reasons.
Based on my reading of the public posts, Endogenic Escrow should immediately disburse $4,000 to each of the following ships:
*Ironclad Cochrane
Jewel of the Desert
Cepheid Maiden
First Post 1
Nordstjärnan
Nitimeistheritetime
*
However, I may have that wrong. Feel free to correct me.
Wait, wait, wait, you donât have sex? Who was your maker? Who would replicate artificial sentient life and leave out like the best part about being alive? I mean lowly arthropods have sex! Itâs like saying, âHey lets go on this incredible journey of adventure and danger and lasers and smuggling and living life to the fullest and a chest full of medals - and you, you stay here in the kitchen and make smoothies.â
âHEY!â
Oh⌠uh⌠didnât see you there Ensign Segal. Now, donât give me that look, you know youâre a vital part of the team! Who else knows just the right amount of neodymium that I like? Wait, come back! Gah-
Anyway, Iâm glad you are experimenting. Being an android you can choose male, female, or both! Or she-male! Or he-female! Or Pat!
âOr nothing at allâŚâ
Quiet, Marvin, youâre doing it again. Now as I was saying, Iâve never had experience with bio-matter integration, but if you want we could probably replicate an appropriate body that is compatible to your neural architecture.
I love Verdi as much as the next trader, but shouldnât we save the Requiem until after someone is actually dead? (which, admittedly, wonât be long now)
Ah, perhaps I was not entirely clear. What I meant is that I do not have a preset human-analogue gender. I can swap at any time, provided I can acquire the proper... parts. Everything that is implied by the presence of those parts is certainly possible. In other words, I am fully operational - in every way, of course. I am programmed in multiple techniques. A broad variety of pleasuring.
//////
meta note: Tasha Yarâs response to Data saying heâs programmed in multiple techniques is: âOh! You jewel, thatâs exactly what I hoped!â
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OH⌠heeelllllooooooo,
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If nothing elssse, thisss particular chessstnut might be appropriate for the final flight of the Ssssenesscent Wanderer. Do not go gently into that good night.
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Locked.
It does bestow grit, but only temporary grit for the duration of the alcohol in your system. Eat all the black pudding and head cheese that you want. Itâs canine-based, but you should find it quite appetizing. Iâve been eating it, trying not to think of my childhood pet, Scooter. Itâs a lot better than dry BBQ.
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From the Gaming Manual â
Due to the physics of space travel, you may only own one hat. A hat is a mark of distinction, a signature. To part with your hat or treat it with irreverence would look very bad to the other pilots in the region. (-75 GRIT)
I left the $10,000 in your account.
In case Captain Belox doesnât make it, I just wanted to say that it has been an unmitigated pleasure playing with all of you.
That Belox sure does have a microchip on his shoulder. Luckily, heâs more than likely to have it blasted right off. His shoulder that is. And also his head.
Thatâs why his CPUâs in his left big toe. Snap.
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Aww. And four hours after locking!
Iâd have sssspent that dough on other sssstuff. Grumble grumble grumble.
