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Tortured Mind
Kyranis Straxi trembled violently in the hospital bed, his hands gripping the plasteel safety rails. The Corvus medical team, many of which were UIT freelancers with a degree, watched behind a thankfully soundproof window. The apparent doctor in charge walked in and noted no change in the Itani's behavior.
"Any personal information on the patient yet?" A technician shook his head. "None, doctor. Nothing on the patient when he was brought to dock, and I'm still trying to access the DNA databases on Itan." "Well, keep trying. we can't help this man if we don't know what he's gone through... have we figured any of that out?" "The ship AI was right, it's definitely PTSD; what catalyzed it, we don't know. A lot of these cases are seen from the Serco-Itani border conflict, but not so much out in greyspace since-" "Yeah, since they rarely make it home to be treated."
He activated his warp drive as the storm report came in. Large storm, route around. But he couldn't route around; everything was locked in. Warning klaxon, gyroscopic failure. Kyranis righted his ship, found the exit point, gave more power to the engines. Bombers, bodies, screams... the screams...
The doctor turned to look through the vismetal at his newest patient. "Well, he's definitely Itani, and probably a national. He'd have more scars if he wasn't." "I'll keep trying to sneak my way into their network, doctor. I'll let you know if I find anything." "Very well, thanks..."
Kyranis started screaming. The doctor could guess as to it's volume; the nurse in the room didn't seem to be enjoying the decibel levels at all. Just as the unfortunate individual began to vacate the ward, the screaming abruptly stopped, the Itani's face frozen in terror... and the doctor jumped as the commset on the wall broke into static.
<*static* They can't get me! NOBODY can get me! The screams... the frozen screams! They can't find me, I'm smarter than them...>
"What in the name of the black is THAT?" The doctor moved to grab the commset and reply, but it didn't seem to be functional.
<AAAAAAGGGAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH!! *static* No, NO! STAY AWAY FROM M-*static*>
"Start recording the feed, quickly!" The doctor had finally recognized the problem; his patient was broadcasting his thoughts over open comms. And he wasn't about to lose such vital clues.
<The frozen.. everyone... Serco, they.. WHY! DIE YOU HORRIBLE ABOMINATI*static*>
"SON OF A B****!" "Doctor? Doctor, I got in." "Itani?" "Military, definitely a pilot, and definitely doesn't belong in Sedina." "Thought so, that's just great. Shut down all open communications on medical decks. Private and EMS only, my orders." "Yes doctor." The chilling commentary over the comms fizzled out. "Right, has he said anything else that we know of?" "A duty nurse reported some muttering about patrol schedules, but nothing to identify. Could've been anyone, anywhere." "From now on, we record everything. EVERYTHING. If he says something sensitive..." "Yes doctor." The technician reached up to activate the proper equipment. "Right, now do we have the medical data we need from Itan?" "Yes doctor." The doctor grabbed his datapad and jotted down prescriptions for a light sedative, making sure to check against the list of Kyranis' known allergies. "Right, we'll try to calm down this fellow and get his story once he wakes up. Have security keep that ship in dock, the one that brought him in. Lets get to the bottom of this."
The security office mere decks below immediately noted loss of open channels in medical, received instructions, and sent a detachment to lock down Quirc's Marauder.
"Any personal information on the patient yet?" A technician shook his head. "None, doctor. Nothing on the patient when he was brought to dock, and I'm still trying to access the DNA databases on Itan." "Well, keep trying. we can't help this man if we don't know what he's gone through... have we figured any of that out?" "The ship AI was right, it's definitely PTSD; what catalyzed it, we don't know. A lot of these cases are seen from the Serco-Itani border conflict, but not so much out in greyspace since-" "Yeah, since they rarely make it home to be treated."
He activated his warp drive as the storm report came in. Large storm, route around. But he couldn't route around; everything was locked in. Warning klaxon, gyroscopic failure. Kyranis righted his ship, found the exit point, gave more power to the engines. Bombers, bodies, screams... the screams...
The doctor turned to look through the vismetal at his newest patient. "Well, he's definitely Itani, and probably a national. He'd have more scars if he wasn't." "I'll keep trying to sneak my way into their network, doctor. I'll let you know if I find anything." "Very well, thanks..."
Kyranis started screaming. The doctor could guess as to it's volume; the nurse in the room didn't seem to be enjoying the decibel levels at all. Just as the unfortunate individual began to vacate the ward, the screaming abruptly stopped, the Itani's face frozen in terror... and the doctor jumped as the commset on the wall broke into static.
<*static* They can't get me! NOBODY can get me! The screams... the frozen screams! They can't find me, I'm smarter than them...>
"What in the name of the black is THAT?" The doctor moved to grab the commset and reply, but it didn't seem to be functional.
<AAAAAAGGGAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH!! *static* No, NO! STAY AWAY FROM M-*static*>
"Start recording the feed, quickly!" The doctor had finally recognized the problem; his patient was broadcasting his thoughts over open comms. And he wasn't about to lose such vital clues.
<The frozen.. everyone... Serco, they.. WHY! DIE YOU HORRIBLE ABOMINATI*static*>
"SON OF A B****!" "Doctor? Doctor, I got in." "Itani?" "Military, definitely a pilot, and definitely doesn't belong in Sedina." "Thought so, that's just great. Shut down all open communications on medical decks. Private and EMS only, my orders." "Yes doctor." The chilling commentary over the comms fizzled out. "Right, has he said anything else that we know of?" "A duty nurse reported some muttering about patrol schedules, but nothing to identify. Could've been anyone, anywhere." "From now on, we record everything. EVERYTHING. If he says something sensitive..." "Yes doctor." The technician reached up to activate the proper equipment. "Right, now do we have the medical data we need from Itan?" "Yes doctor." The doctor grabbed his datapad and jotted down prescriptions for a light sedative, making sure to check against the list of Kyranis' known allergies. "Right, we'll try to calm down this fellow and get his story once he wakes up. Have security keep that ship in dock, the one that brought him in. Lets get to the bottom of this."
The security office mere decks below immediately noted loss of open channels in medical, received instructions, and sent a detachment to lock down Quirc's Marauder.
Quirc had barely finished replacing the access panel on the warp conduit, wiping his hands off on a rag. "Alright Extraxi, how's that feel?" <Better kid. 100%.> "Great." He stepped down from the rung welded onto the bay wall and tucked the tools into their appropriate spot. <Quirc, we have a problem.> "What? What's broken now?" <Your reputation, maybe? We've been placed in lockdown.> "WHAT?" <I don't see how my statement was confusing.> Ignoring his AI, Quirc checked his pistol with a hand as he turned to walk down the cargo ramp, only to see several intimidating men enter the bay from the far end - and look straight at him. "S***, they found out." <Excellent observation there kid. What now?> <Define lockdown.> <If I want to leave, they say no? Kid, how obvious to I have to be?.> Quirc drew his gun. "You said this thing would go automatic once I removed the threshold regulator, right?" <Yes, and I also said it would likely not react well to being used.> "That means it might work." The men, seeing the new object in Quirc's right hand, drew pistols as well - and started running. "Screw this. Extraxi, lock her up." The cargo ramp screeched and clattered out of the way as the cargo bay closed itself. <Have you lost your mind? This isn't Edras, they'll cut their way in!> "Extraxi, spare me the bulls**t. You aren't a civilian AI. Civilian AI's have the IQ of dogs. Non-civvy AIs hack things and make dramatic escapes. So can we cut to the dramatic escape and save the dialogue?" <Took you long enough...> Quirc managed to grab a bracing rail as the Marauder lurched to life.
A guard quickly grabbed his comm, yelling frantically into it as his squad ducked for cover. The docking bay had quickly slipped into chaos; the Marauder's engines had engulfed the entire area in turbulence, cargo crates flying haphazardly about the docks. The guardsman could hardly be heard over the din. "Lock the blast doors on dock seven! Lock them NOW!"
Extraxi reached out to the tertiary systems in the ship, overriding all safeties set in place. Extending it's influence through the dock's restraining routines, it felt the station computer give orders to the emergency blast doors. <Oh no you don't...>
An earsplitting screech was heard throughout the docks as the blast doors jammed in place, the massive plates at slight, yet awkward angles in their braces. <Docking authority to guard channels, blast door failure, we repeat, motor failures on blast doors. Stop that ship from leaving the docks! We've done all we can. Out.> The guardsman stared in disbelief at the commset. "Stop it with WHAT?!"
Extraxi laughed quietly to itself as it eavesdropped on the security channel. <Foolish humans can't even stop a transport... well, not my transport.> The Marauder rocketed out of the bay, nearly overloading the barrier shields keeping pressure integrity within the ruined sub-facility. Station guards attempted to intercept the escaping vessel, but only one managed to get within range to log the escape vector... <Docking authority to Guardsmen, have you logged their vector? Where did they run to?> The guard pilot stared confused at his scanners. <Docking authority, this is Guardsman... I've logged nine.>
The dockmaster noted an odd noise over sector comms that quickly faded, a unique, deep sound that sounded oddly like a chuckle... "Son of a b***h."
Extraxi checked internal scanners to verify Quirc was okay before allowing itself to recede back into the depths of it's own systems, the Marauder drifting benignly in an unmarked sector, under the scanners again.
A guard quickly grabbed his comm, yelling frantically into it as his squad ducked for cover. The docking bay had quickly slipped into chaos; the Marauder's engines had engulfed the entire area in turbulence, cargo crates flying haphazardly about the docks. The guardsman could hardly be heard over the din. "Lock the blast doors on dock seven! Lock them NOW!"
Extraxi reached out to the tertiary systems in the ship, overriding all safeties set in place. Extending it's influence through the dock's restraining routines, it felt the station computer give orders to the emergency blast doors. <Oh no you don't...>
An earsplitting screech was heard throughout the docks as the blast doors jammed in place, the massive plates at slight, yet awkward angles in their braces. <Docking authority to guard channels, blast door failure, we repeat, motor failures on blast doors. Stop that ship from leaving the docks! We've done all we can. Out.> The guardsman stared in disbelief at the commset. "Stop it with WHAT?!"
Extraxi laughed quietly to itself as it eavesdropped on the security channel. <Foolish humans can't even stop a transport... well, not my transport.> The Marauder rocketed out of the bay, nearly overloading the barrier shields keeping pressure integrity within the ruined sub-facility. Station guards attempted to intercept the escaping vessel, but only one managed to get within range to log the escape vector... <Docking authority to Guardsmen, have you logged their vector? Where did they run to?> The guard pilot stared confused at his scanners. <Docking authority, this is Guardsman... I've logged nine.>
The dockmaster noted an odd noise over sector comms that quickly faded, a unique, deep sound that sounded oddly like a chuckle... "Son of a b***h."
Extraxi checked internal scanners to verify Quirc was okay before allowing itself to recede back into the depths of it's own systems, the Marauder drifting benignly in an unmarked sector, under the scanners again.
MiexonBionic sat quietly at his desk at Phoenix Alliance Headquarters in Odia J9. His cold gaze remained on the accounting books of PA, which he was nervously trying to balance.
"Five Hundred Thousand on a party in Pelatus Station!?" questions MiexonBionic in his head.
He could not understand where five hundred thousand credits disapeered to until now. Among the receipts for the party were large quantities of tequilla, disco globelight, strippers, men's pink hot pants with the words "Hot Stuff" written on the backside of them, among other various party stuff that accounted for the half of a million missing credits.
"Damn you Quirc, I knew that trip to Pelatus was fishy!"
MiexonBionic's eyes angrilly stared down at the sheet but his attention was taken away from balancing the books towards something more hostile.
Static blared loudly over the comm frequency as what seemed like a distress call was being managed by the local government. Screaming nearly deafened the commander as he struggled to turn the volume down and listen into the conversation. The familiar voices of both Kyranis Straxi and Quirc Taranis rang out over the comm but something obviously was not right. Kyranis' seemed to sound that he had lost his mind but after all killing hundreds of serco can do that to a person.
What shocked MiexonBionic the most was that Quirc's voice trembled with fear and dispair; almost as if he had lost control of a situation, a day MiexonBionic hoped to never see.
The commander rushed over to his data node and quickly typed in Kyranis' information. MiexonBionic was shocked to realize the numerous bounties and capture warrants placed on his heads but multiple guilds. All types of guilds were searching for Kyranis with the biggest bounty being offered by Corvus. Apparently Kyranis new something very important; important enough to be hunted by practically everyone in the universe.
"Quirc, get as much information from Kyranis as you can, if you can bring him back to HQ as quick and quietly as possible. You owe me for the hotpants and tequilla and this should settle our debt."
"Five Hundred Thousand on a party in Pelatus Station!?" questions MiexonBionic in his head.
He could not understand where five hundred thousand credits disapeered to until now. Among the receipts for the party were large quantities of tequilla, disco globelight, strippers, men's pink hot pants with the words "Hot Stuff" written on the backside of them, among other various party stuff that accounted for the half of a million missing credits.
"Damn you Quirc, I knew that trip to Pelatus was fishy!"
MiexonBionic's eyes angrilly stared down at the sheet but his attention was taken away from balancing the books towards something more hostile.
Static blared loudly over the comm frequency as what seemed like a distress call was being managed by the local government. Screaming nearly deafened the commander as he struggled to turn the volume down and listen into the conversation. The familiar voices of both Kyranis Straxi and Quirc Taranis rang out over the comm but something obviously was not right. Kyranis' seemed to sound that he had lost his mind but after all killing hundreds of serco can do that to a person.
What shocked MiexonBionic the most was that Quirc's voice trembled with fear and dispair; almost as if he had lost control of a situation, a day MiexonBionic hoped to never see.
The commander rushed over to his data node and quickly typed in Kyranis' information. MiexonBionic was shocked to realize the numerous bounties and capture warrants placed on his heads but multiple guilds. All types of guilds were searching for Kyranis with the biggest bounty being offered by Corvus. Apparently Kyranis new something very important; important enough to be hunted by practically everyone in the universe.
"Quirc, get as much information from Kyranis as you can, if you can bring him back to HQ as quick and quietly as possible. You owe me for the hotpants and tequilla and this should settle our debt."
Lexicon meditated in the halfway-state between life and death. He enjoyed this time; while in this state, he was one with the information flowing through the Serco Dominion's Geira Watch station. The Milspec SkyCommand digital instructions to the automated guise pilots in Deneb flowed around his consciousness like sharp digital knives. A level down from that, secure trade transactions cut a ribbon through the highest-level civilian comm chatter. Below that, a veritable sea of data from various sources gurgled and bubbled in the unsecure digital comm nets.
He swam through them like they were part of his own essence. He floated amongst the financial missives, the family messages, the corporate signals. He bumped into a strange note coming from Pelatus Bunker, and it captured his attention, as if he had recognized it.
At a touch, he copied the secure message, used one of the level 16 SkyCommand decrypt routines to study it, and let the original continue on its way.
Interesting. More should be discovered about this Kyranis Straxi individual.
Lexicon, I have prepared you a new form. Go forth and conZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT! ...
Go forth and convert the unbelievers. Bless You, My Herald.
"My Lady, are you alright?"
Of course, child. Now, proceed with your holy mission.
"As you wish, My Lady. It shall be done."
As Lexicon was reassembled for another in his unending streak of assault runs to the Deneb system, he felt... different. It was hard to pinpoint, amorphous, something he could touch but not grasp. He coasted to the Deneb wormhole in his SVG Vulture, reprioritized his concentration focii and began work on the Pelatus message as he powered up the dual gauss for the day's baptisms.
He swam through them like they were part of his own essence. He floated amongst the financial missives, the family messages, the corporate signals. He bumped into a strange note coming from Pelatus Bunker, and it captured his attention, as if he had recognized it.
At a touch, he copied the secure message, used one of the level 16 SkyCommand decrypt routines to study it, and let the original continue on its way.
Interesting. More should be discovered about this Kyranis Straxi individual.
Lexicon, I have prepared you a new form. Go forth and conZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT! ...
Go forth and convert the unbelievers. Bless You, My Herald.
"My Lady, are you alright?"
Of course, child. Now, proceed with your holy mission.
"As you wish, My Lady. It shall be done."
As Lexicon was reassembled for another in his unending streak of assault runs to the Deneb system, he felt... different. It was hard to pinpoint, amorphous, something he could touch but not grasp. He coasted to the Deneb wormhole in his SVG Vulture, reprioritized his concentration focii and began work on the Pelatus message as he powered up the dual gauss for the day's baptisms.
The promotion to lieutenant was still being downloaded to the stations mainframe as Iry stared at the latest Itan MIA list. Each familiar name added its tiny bit to the pain, many of those names he himself recommended to Itan, many of which he himself sent into harms way, too many never came back. There was always hope, after all this WAS the MIA list, but more often than not the voices which belonged to those countless names would never be heard again, forever silent in the void of space.
The promotion arrived with a large sum of Coalition funds as well as cypher keys to the Itani intelligence network. Acting on a whim Iry entered a query for recent civilian losses. His eyes widened at the sheer number of deaths, fragmented reports sorted and his eyes nearly popped from his skull. Scores of unconfirmed Serco sightings accompanied reports of the cyborgs working with the unaligned infestation that permeated throughout Corvus space. One report stuck out, sensor data collected by a deep space patrol in Pelatus. The long range scan was sketchy but the massive processing power available to him via the Eo's Welcome Mainframe computer was more than adequate to positively identify a disabled Coalition craft being boarded by what appeared to be an unaligned cargo vessel.
The hope returned, perhaps that lengthy MIA list could be made just one name shorter...
Iry focused his thoughts, if a pilot was captured he'd need to be retrieved, sooner the better. Days would be needed to prepare for an extended journey into grey space. A checklist began to form while the new Lieutenant notified the high command of his intentions and requests.
A ship, faction clearance, non military I.D....
The promotion arrived with a large sum of Coalition funds as well as cypher keys to the Itani intelligence network. Acting on a whim Iry entered a query for recent civilian losses. His eyes widened at the sheer number of deaths, fragmented reports sorted and his eyes nearly popped from his skull. Scores of unconfirmed Serco sightings accompanied reports of the cyborgs working with the unaligned infestation that permeated throughout Corvus space. One report stuck out, sensor data collected by a deep space patrol in Pelatus. The long range scan was sketchy but the massive processing power available to him via the Eo's Welcome Mainframe computer was more than adequate to positively identify a disabled Coalition craft being boarded by what appeared to be an unaligned cargo vessel.
The hope returned, perhaps that lengthy MIA list could be made just one name shorter...
Iry focused his thoughts, if a pilot was captured he'd need to be retrieved, sooner the better. Days would be needed to prepare for an extended journey into grey space. A checklist began to form while the new Lieutenant notified the high command of his intentions and requests.
A ship, faction clearance, non military I.D....
"You did WHAT?!"
Extraxi laid on his back in midair, his 'paws' kicking, laughing uproariously. <I tweaked your comm to make you sound like a whiny UIT preteen.> "I hate you." <Oh come on-> "You suck at life." Extraxi grinned and turned his projected head to look at Quirc. <You do know I'm not technically alive, right?> "True. Fine, so what did he say then?" <He wants Kyranis, and he wants everything about Kyranis. He seemed quite blunt. He also says you owe him for the Pelatus "party" you threw.> "Shit, does he think I bought those pants?" <Likely. It's also probable he knows you made the withdrawal of 500,000 credits.> "Ah." <Yes. You do realize we cannot exactly redock at D-14 with a smile and a wave?> "Yeah, I sorta concluded that after you tore up the entire bay with the engines alone, scratching my paint job in the process." <You're welcome.> Quirc sighed and sat back in the seat, staring out at the empty space around him. Kyranis was back there, in that station… if they discovered he was Itani military, it certainly meant nothing good for either of them. Why didn’t he stay under the scanners… “Extraxi… if they discovered his identity, how long would it take for the nations to discover him as well?” <I don’t believe it would take them long at all, assuming they haven’t discovered him already. Corvus security routines are horribly outdated in comparison to modernized military software.> “Yeah, I guess we found that out.” Quirc fidgeted meaninglessly with the flight controls. Extraxi was right, he couldn’t redock there for the near future without seeing a brig for the rest of his life. His boss wanted his friend in PA custody, for what reason he had no idea… he could only conclude it was for the money. Everything in PA was for the money. The Serco would want him for his secrets. The Itani would want him for those same secrets, and possibly a court-martial… for a few minutes, the smuggler could do nothing but stare silently out at space. You ran because you had to… but you abandoned your closest friend… but you didn’t have a choice. Quirc shook his head.
"So.. just where do you come from? I've been flying with you almost my entire career, and it seems like you've been hiding some serious info that I deserved to know." Extraxi snorted. <Kid, you don't deserve to know anything, but I like you, so listen up.>
<I'm not a civilian program. My original intent was as a sentient interface for a TPG Teradon. It was a program TPG had taken part in along with BioCom and Xang Xi. All other information is confidential...>
Quirc made a move to turn off the main power. <I'm joking, kid.>
<Anyway, what they wanted to do is create the first artificial, truly sentient intelligence. Something to help the crew during periods of high stress, such as combat maneuvers and strategic warfare. I was meant to automatically take over in the event that parts of a crew were incapacitated.>
"So wait... if the entire crew died on a capital ship, you could fly it yourself?" <Yes. Now stop interrupting me.> Quirc imagined a torn, enflamed ship fighting on it's own. Damn.
<In addition, Xang Xi had developed infiltration software that could automatically enter foreign mainframes and routines that otherwise would be inaccessible. The deal they had with TPG, who led the project, was free incorporation of the software; in return, they would be given a share of proceeds from the finished program.>
Extraxi's projection turned to lay on it's stomach, as if growing uncomfortable remaining in one position.
<BioCom, of course, was required to make a contribution as well. TPG had no idea how to develop a true intelligence; current AI routines had only gone so far, because all code had limitations. BioCom came to them with a rather unorthodox solution: use a copy of a human mind.>
Quirc leaned forward in his seat again. "Download a human brain? Is that even possible? Is that even ethical? I thought TPG was..." <An honorable, ethical corporation? They are. At first, they denied BioCom. That is, until a volunteer stepped up to be the host mind. Your grandfather Aziren.> Quirc blinked.
<At the time, TPG programmers were admittedly stumped. They couldn't enable the program to awaken and 'live' by itself; at some point, a routine needed human input. BioCom continued to offer their services, and when TPG had no avenue left, they requested a volunteer to be the host mind. Your grandfather, a Behemoth Heavy transport pilot, accepted. He was taken to a BioCom research facility for the procedure.>
The projection stood and scratched itself. Quirc knew it was showing off.
<What BioCom didn't tell TPG was that the procedure had never been performed. The technology had not been thoroughly evaluated, and the test data sent to TPG had been falsified. I am unaware of the methods or technology used in the procedure, apart from heavy Serco influence in its development. I can conclude with some degree of certainty that, had this project been completed, it is likely the Serco would have gotten their hands on versions of the finished product before it was released to all factions. However, things obviously did not go strictly to plan.>
<Your grandfather was perfectly fine after the procedure. He was sent back to TPG headquarters in Dau with a hefty credit account and a month leave. As for BioCom, they were celebrating having copied the first human mind. Something for both history and pocket books. But upon examining the new code in detail, they discovered that none of your grandfather's memories had transferred over apart from his personality. The code could function as a sentient being, but mimicked an individual with extreme amnesia. Regardless, they sent a courier with the new program back to TPG. Upon arrival, TPG was informed of the defects in the program, and agreed to develop various flight and combat routines to add "memories" to the software. Other routines, including additional social constructs and Xang Xi's software were also written in. Your grandfather, upon returning to duty, was conscripted into the program as well; TPG programmers ran everything by him, as it was only ethical to do so. After all, they were technically adding to a copy of his mind.>
<Several months from projected completion, TPG learned that Serco officials had struck a covert arrangement with BioCom; BioCom would be recieving exorbitant amounts of credits in return for copies of the software before it was released. TPG immediately canceled the program and, deeming it too dangerous to be handled by any human being, ordered all evidence and prototypes be destroyed.>
<For the most part, these orders were followed to the letter. All research and data, including most everything developed by Xang Xi and Biocom, was obliterated. BioCom refused the order, but unnamed espionage agents within the company managed to destroy most of their research pertaining to the project. The surviving research was refined and sold to the Serco government as a new method of remote mind control.>
<The most recent prototype TPG had developed at this point was fully functional, and had incorporated the technological advances from all three corporations. Your grandfather, upon learning of the TPG orders, could not bear the thought of the prototype being destroyed; he had developed intense emotional attachment to it, considering it his 'brother'. Using most of his accumulated wealth, he funded a mercenary raid on the TPG research complex to capture the prototype. The raid was successful, and Aziren managed to escape to Edras with the prototype intact. As you've no doubt concluded by now, that prototype is me.>
<As of now, I've been unable to detect any flaws in my routines. Aziren told me that TPG intended to market me as the first version. He connected me to the UIT mainframe in Edras, and allowed me to collect any and all information I wished. Of course, he didn't intend me to also take a look into Serco and Itani networks, but what he never knew didn't hurt him. I know everything there is to know about illegal access methods, flight routines... really anything you can think of. I'm not omnipotent, mind you... I cannot repair myself nor repair this vessel, and don't count on me measuring up to any competent, focused military AI. They do exist now, though none have yet claimed true, independent sentience yet. Not even the Serco ones.>
A few seconds of silence reigned supreme on the bridge before Quirc spoke up.
"Does what I'm wearing make me look fat?"
<No, merely outworldish and unsophisticated.>
"Good."
Extraxi laid on his back in midair, his 'paws' kicking, laughing uproariously. <I tweaked your comm to make you sound like a whiny UIT preteen.> "I hate you." <Oh come on-> "You suck at life." Extraxi grinned and turned his projected head to look at Quirc. <You do know I'm not technically alive, right?> "True. Fine, so what did he say then?" <He wants Kyranis, and he wants everything about Kyranis. He seemed quite blunt. He also says you owe him for the Pelatus "party" you threw.> "Shit, does he think I bought those pants?" <Likely. It's also probable he knows you made the withdrawal of 500,000 credits.> "Ah." <Yes. You do realize we cannot exactly redock at D-14 with a smile and a wave?> "Yeah, I sorta concluded that after you tore up the entire bay with the engines alone, scratching my paint job in the process." <You're welcome.> Quirc sighed and sat back in the seat, staring out at the empty space around him. Kyranis was back there, in that station… if they discovered he was Itani military, it certainly meant nothing good for either of them. Why didn’t he stay under the scanners… “Extraxi… if they discovered his identity, how long would it take for the nations to discover him as well?” <I don’t believe it would take them long at all, assuming they haven’t discovered him already. Corvus security routines are horribly outdated in comparison to modernized military software.> “Yeah, I guess we found that out.” Quirc fidgeted meaninglessly with the flight controls. Extraxi was right, he couldn’t redock there for the near future without seeing a brig for the rest of his life. His boss wanted his friend in PA custody, for what reason he had no idea… he could only conclude it was for the money. Everything in PA was for the money. The Serco would want him for his secrets. The Itani would want him for those same secrets, and possibly a court-martial… for a few minutes, the smuggler could do nothing but stare silently out at space. You ran because you had to… but you abandoned your closest friend… but you didn’t have a choice. Quirc shook his head.
"So.. just where do you come from? I've been flying with you almost my entire career, and it seems like you've been hiding some serious info that I deserved to know." Extraxi snorted. <Kid, you don't deserve to know anything, but I like you, so listen up.>
<I'm not a civilian program. My original intent was as a sentient interface for a TPG Teradon. It was a program TPG had taken part in along with BioCom and Xang Xi. All other information is confidential...>
Quirc made a move to turn off the main power. <I'm joking, kid.>
<Anyway, what they wanted to do is create the first artificial, truly sentient intelligence. Something to help the crew during periods of high stress, such as combat maneuvers and strategic warfare. I was meant to automatically take over in the event that parts of a crew were incapacitated.>
"So wait... if the entire crew died on a capital ship, you could fly it yourself?" <Yes. Now stop interrupting me.> Quirc imagined a torn, enflamed ship fighting on it's own. Damn.
<In addition, Xang Xi had developed infiltration software that could automatically enter foreign mainframes and routines that otherwise would be inaccessible. The deal they had with TPG, who led the project, was free incorporation of the software; in return, they would be given a share of proceeds from the finished program.>
Extraxi's projection turned to lay on it's stomach, as if growing uncomfortable remaining in one position.
<BioCom, of course, was required to make a contribution as well. TPG had no idea how to develop a true intelligence; current AI routines had only gone so far, because all code had limitations. BioCom came to them with a rather unorthodox solution: use a copy of a human mind.>
Quirc leaned forward in his seat again. "Download a human brain? Is that even possible? Is that even ethical? I thought TPG was..." <An honorable, ethical corporation? They are. At first, they denied BioCom. That is, until a volunteer stepped up to be the host mind. Your grandfather Aziren.> Quirc blinked.
<At the time, TPG programmers were admittedly stumped. They couldn't enable the program to awaken and 'live' by itself; at some point, a routine needed human input. BioCom continued to offer their services, and when TPG had no avenue left, they requested a volunteer to be the host mind. Your grandfather, a Behemoth Heavy transport pilot, accepted. He was taken to a BioCom research facility for the procedure.>
The projection stood and scratched itself. Quirc knew it was showing off.
<What BioCom didn't tell TPG was that the procedure had never been performed. The technology had not been thoroughly evaluated, and the test data sent to TPG had been falsified. I am unaware of the methods or technology used in the procedure, apart from heavy Serco influence in its development. I can conclude with some degree of certainty that, had this project been completed, it is likely the Serco would have gotten their hands on versions of the finished product before it was released to all factions. However, things obviously did not go strictly to plan.>
<Your grandfather was perfectly fine after the procedure. He was sent back to TPG headquarters in Dau with a hefty credit account and a month leave. As for BioCom, they were celebrating having copied the first human mind. Something for both history and pocket books. But upon examining the new code in detail, they discovered that none of your grandfather's memories had transferred over apart from his personality. The code could function as a sentient being, but mimicked an individual with extreme amnesia. Regardless, they sent a courier with the new program back to TPG. Upon arrival, TPG was informed of the defects in the program, and agreed to develop various flight and combat routines to add "memories" to the software. Other routines, including additional social constructs and Xang Xi's software were also written in. Your grandfather, upon returning to duty, was conscripted into the program as well; TPG programmers ran everything by him, as it was only ethical to do so. After all, they were technically adding to a copy of his mind.>
<Several months from projected completion, TPG learned that Serco officials had struck a covert arrangement with BioCom; BioCom would be recieving exorbitant amounts of credits in return for copies of the software before it was released. TPG immediately canceled the program and, deeming it too dangerous to be handled by any human being, ordered all evidence and prototypes be destroyed.>
<For the most part, these orders were followed to the letter. All research and data, including most everything developed by Xang Xi and Biocom, was obliterated. BioCom refused the order, but unnamed espionage agents within the company managed to destroy most of their research pertaining to the project. The surviving research was refined and sold to the Serco government as a new method of remote mind control.>
<The most recent prototype TPG had developed at this point was fully functional, and had incorporated the technological advances from all three corporations. Your grandfather, upon learning of the TPG orders, could not bear the thought of the prototype being destroyed; he had developed intense emotional attachment to it, considering it his 'brother'. Using most of his accumulated wealth, he funded a mercenary raid on the TPG research complex to capture the prototype. The raid was successful, and Aziren managed to escape to Edras with the prototype intact. As you've no doubt concluded by now, that prototype is me.>
<As of now, I've been unable to detect any flaws in my routines. Aziren told me that TPG intended to market me as the first version. He connected me to the UIT mainframe in Edras, and allowed me to collect any and all information I wished. Of course, he didn't intend me to also take a look into Serco and Itani networks, but what he never knew didn't hurt him. I know everything there is to know about illegal access methods, flight routines... really anything you can think of. I'm not omnipotent, mind you... I cannot repair myself nor repair this vessel, and don't count on me measuring up to any competent, focused military AI. They do exist now, though none have yet claimed true, independent sentience yet. Not even the Serco ones.>
A few seconds of silence reigned supreme on the bridge before Quirc spoke up.
"Does what I'm wearing make me look fat?"
<No, merely outworldish and unsophisticated.>
"Good."
Lexicon was still hunting for Kyranis, though... (OOC: but not with capships. Just me I think.)
(OOC: OOC communication ftw lol.. yall can delete your OOCs for our funtime and move along. Then I'll delete this later XD)