Hey there guys and welcome back to Silent Stars! I, Cursed, the one eyed mad bastard am your guide through a strange and usually hostile galaxy. Last time, you assaulted the remote Dominion outpost 11-84C. You proceeded to wreck ass in several different ways before being chased off your conquest by a mysterious Battleship. You escaped only with some slav- Er... prisoners, some shitty loot, Blue SpiderHorse porn and a mysterious and apparently priceless Dominion council Data Archive. Youre currently hurtling through FL in your trusty Corvette, The Malcontent, along with a captured Dominion merchant Frigate, The Far Wanderer. Your destination is Heaven Station, a cesspit of scum, villainy and probably space herpes. >Previous thread>>2112418>Archive>http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=PunishedCursed%2C+Space%2C+Scifi%2C+aliens%2C+Piracy%2C+ship+combat%2C+Collective+game>Cont
>>2128812Captain Samson Iskander Wick>100HpSkills->>Command- +10 to rolls involving leading men or directing ships>Persuasion- Silver tongue +10 to rolls directed towards convincing someone of anything>Infantry combat- you are a trained footsoldier, getting stuck in is second nature to you. +10 to combat rolls on foot. >Gear->Beam Pistol. 1d100 damage. +10 to armored targets. 1d100 accuracy.>Plasma Rifle. 4d100 damage. 1d100 accuracy. Critfails injure wielder.>Stun Baton. 1d100 damage. 1d100 melee accuracy Nonlethal.>Grav Hammer- 2d100 damage, 1d100 melee accuracy. Low rolls will open you up for retaliation >Reinforced leather jacket (normal wear) +10 armor>Heavy combat suit (Battle wear) +40 armor.>Account balance-3180CSignificant crew-Jugnur- 2nd in command. A brilliant Gugnurug technician and salvager. +10 to salvage and scan rolls.Joanna Skeeir- your navigation and sensors expert. Pulls double duty as a capable pilot.Eric Westbrook. A disgraced and troubled UNSN Gunnery Officer. Weapons chief onboard.Rithik the Exile. A Former Gaoian military officer exiled for brutality. Chief of security and boarding operations.>4 Vostok mercenaries- These Slimy aliens reside in their atmospherically sealed, egg shaped robotic suits. Their loyalty is absolute as long as they are paid.>Banth- a nameless, several hundred pound alien murderbeast you have claimed as a pet>The Malcontent>Striker class Corvette>Bloody Past History>100 hull points >400 Shield >1 lv2 Hydra repeating Railgun (2d100 damage, 1d100-10 accuracy) >2 lv1 Taurus Railgun (1D100 damage)>1 lv1 Longshot Missile Launcher (2D100 damage, 1 turn reload)>Lv1 Hull (100 Hull points)>lv2 Shields+ Ajax shield booster (400 Shield)>Lv1 engine (no bonus to dodge or pursuit) >Lv1 Life Support >Lv2 Fire control (+10 accuracy to weapons)>Lv1 Navigation sensors>Lv2 Reactor (8/10 Power used)>Lv1 Coolant Systems>Lv1 Sensors>Lv1 Medbay>Lv2 point defense (6d100 to shoot down enemy fighters, torpedoes, missiles)>Lv1 Cargo bay (3/4 spaces)>Current cargo->26 prisoners from Frigate Far Wanderer(2 spaces) >1 Dominion council data archive (contents unknown) >23 crew counting yourself (5 onboard Far Wanderer as skeleton crew)>cont
You lean back in your chair in your private quarters, staring up at the ceiling as you contemplate the events of the last couple hours. What is on that Data Archive? Why did that battleship fire on the outpost? How the hell did that Ulakir hit that hard? You rub your bruised ribs and wince as you recall the power behind the brutes swings."Ought to hire a few of those idiots..."You mutter to yourself, pouring a small glass of bourbon and propping your feet on your desk, the entire ship vibrating slightly from the output of the Slip Drive. You tip the alcohol back and relish the smooth burn as it courses down your throat. Your comm unit pings as Jugnur sends you a message, opening it up you roll your eyes in irritation "Taking long way back, sensors pick up deployed Grav spikes on shortest course. Don't want us to drop in on somebody bigger and bladder"You nod in agreement, closing the message and resuming your slow relaxation.>Get some rest, you've got a day or two in FTL to kill>Inspect the ship>Visit the morgue, your fallen men deserve a little send off>Speak with someone >Interrogate the new prisoners>inspect the Data Archive
>>2128905>inspect the Data ArchiveLet's see if this was all worth it
>>2128905>>Visit the morgue, your fallen men deserve a little send off
Rolled 2 (1d2)1>>21289632>>2129187Tiebreaker roll!
>Visit the morgueYou toss back the rest if your bourbon and stand with a sigh, you lost men today, it wouldn't be proper to ignore that. You may be a pirate but you do have your manners.Making your way to deck three you step off of the lift which is unpleasantly close to the head. A short trip down a hallway lands you in the medbay where several of your wounded crew are recovering, slashes and broken bones being treated by your resident medic, Quievir the Chehnash. Dimunituve for his peoples size he still commands the medbay with unquestioned authority. Giving you a nod in greeting he resumes his attention on a groaning Gaoian, extracting a serrated flechette from his thigh with delicacy.Entering your code into the lock on the morgue door you step inside the refrigerated room, nearly two slotted polymer tables stand ready to hold the fallen. The slain crew are held within black, plastic bodybags of various sizes,concealing the gruesome wounds that took their lives.You rest your hand on each of the six bodybags in turn and silently thank them for their service, making up your mind to have a drink with your bridge crew later. You turn to leave when a sudden realization strikes youYou lost seven men....>Ask Quievir where the fuck that other dead guy is>Detective mode>PANIC>Other
>>2129364>>Ask Quievir where the fuck that other dead guy is>>Detective mode
>>2129364>Ask Quievir where the fuck that other dead guy is>Detective modeWell, this probably isn't good
>>2129407support.maybe we just didnt get them on the ship when we were cleaning up, or they are on the other ship?
>Ask for help>Detective Wick on the job!You lean back into the medbay, making sure to keep your eyes on the morgue ahead of you, you've seen enough bad horror flicks to know better "Quievir? Doc? DOC!? Get your slimy ass in here!!"You yell over your shoulder. You hear Quievir sigh in exasperation as he strips off his gloves and pads over to assist you."Of course captain. But allow me to remind you that I am not... Slimy. While amphibious My species is more similar to your Earth's "toads". Now what seems to be the matter? I cannot assist the men in this room any longer"His croaks and gurgles translate to a smooth, if dry voice.You gesture ahead of you into the morgue and manage to force out the necessary words"Why... Why is there a body missing? There are seven tables in use and only six bodybags. Why are we missing a dead guy Quievir. How do you lose a corpse?"You speak softly, your eyes fixing on Quievirs slitted pupilsHe brushes past you with a wave of his hand"Preposterous. I personally inspected each of the seven crew that were placed in here. I assure you captain you must be mistak-.... Ah.... That IS odd"He stops in his tracks, leaning down to grasp a scrap of torn black plastic, droplets of thick crimson blood clinging to it>Which dead guy are we missing?>Look for a blood trail.>Look for clues>other
>>2129590>>Which dead guy are we missing?>>Look for a blood trail.Get on comms. Hinky shit doesn't fly on this boat.
>>2129590>Which dead guy are we missing?anything special about this one?>Follow the trail.maybe his race was a bit more durable than we gave credit for. might be a critically injured goofball bleeding all over something important.
>Which dead guy are we missing>Is there a trail? The hunt is afoot!You kneel down next to Quievir, inspecting the scrap of bodybag held in his four fingered grip. The Chehnash medic peered curiously at it before turning to look over the other bodies. You decide to speak up, being the captain and all."Who are we missing? Which dead guy did you lose Quievir?"You ask, carefully watching the bodies to make sure none of them spring up with a desire to eat your brain. You aren't sure what alien disease could cause that but that Brothel on Phaeton 7 did look pretty dodgey. You aren't taking any chances.Quievir looks over at you, muttering to himself before answering"All the bodies are accounted for except.... Hmm... Crewman B. Crowley. Human, twenty years of age. Kinetic pulse rifle point blank to the chest..."He says distractedly, inspecting the other bodies as you walk around the edges of the morgue. He couldn't have vanished without a trace after all. There HAS to be a trail of where the holy shit he went.>Super sleuth time. Roll me 1d100 for clue finding.
Rolled 23 (1d100)>>2129730>B. CrowleyYou cheeky fucker Cursed
Rolled 44 (1d100)>>2129730>>Super sleuth time. Roll me 1d100 for clue finding.We are being detective man
Rolled 45 (1d100)>>2129730
>44. Just barely passed the DCYour boot squeaks on the metal of floor as you walk along the walls, looking down reveals a thin red smear on the floor. Something was dragged through here and whatever it was, it was bleeding human blood. Youre not a detective but that seems pretty likely. Following the smear of blood on the floor you push aside a crate and reveal a duct on floor level, common throughout most of the older levels of the ship. And of course, the blood trail leads directly into the duct. Leaning close reveals dozens of tiny dimples in the smear along the floor, along with tiny scraps of the body bag material. You lean against the wall, bringing up the layout of the ship in your head. Like most of the ship, there is a crawlspace within the wall, for ventilation and maintenance. A tight squeeze but a person could fit.>Look for a entrance to the crawlspace >Get on comms, send someone lower ranking after this>Get a tech to seal the duct. You aren't Fucking with this>Other
>>2129905>Look for a entrance to the crawlspace We innawalls now.
>>2129905>>Look for a entrance to the crawlspace>>2129905
Should we get a security team after we find it?
>>2129905>>Look for a entrance to the crawlspaceWell fuck. Make sure everyone know's what dumbass thing we're doin. Nobody does what we ain't willin to do motherfuckers!
>>2129905>look for crawl space entranceBut before we leave here: ask the doc to schedule an appointment to have your bones replaced metal. You have been waking up from troubled dreams recently convinced that you were hearing plaintive cries for freedom from the skelington trapped inside you.
>>2130151Pfffft. If you're gonna replace important parts of us with metal, some of our crew would probably say there isn't enough brass in the verse for our balls mate.
Just a reminder that with that shitty 8 giving us no worthwhile loot to sell, we are flat broke out of cashWe need money to fix up our new ship and get us a hot catgril slave/bodyguard/gf.
>>2130583Well, once we get to angel station we can see if there is any worthwhile loot on the other ship as far as scrap/ upgrades go. After that,we need to have a very serious talk with their crew on why the fuck the big ass murdership geeked the space station, would likely do us in too. We might be able to recruit from their population before we sell the rest off as slaves if we find some...like minded individuals.
>>2130583Except we can sell the freighterAnd the prisonersAnd the thing that we can name the price of
>>2130624There isn't any freighter....It was a Dominion warship we fought with and disabled.
>>2130658pretty sure it was just an armed cargo freighter.
>Innawalls.You bring up the layout of the Malcontent on your wrist computer and quickly locate a maintenance hatch nearby. Leaving Quievir to continue his investigation of the remaining bodies you take your leave, following the blinking line in the holographic map projected by your forearm. In a isolated supply closet (occupied by a rather intricate DIY still and a small baggy of narcotics) you twist aside the locking latches over a square sheet of metal, lifting it up and away reveals the entrance to the ships innards.You sigh unhappily and flick on the flashlight of your com-unit, leaning into the cramped space you look left, right and down you gag as a stench of disturbed dust and foul meat drifts into your nose. Something dead is in here and its not pretty..>Go left towards the medbay. Try to pick up the trail>Go down, see what the hell that smell is>Go right. There may be easier movement past those pipes
>>2130837>Go left towards the medbay. Try to pick up the trail
>>2130837>follow your noseAs it happens, we are looking for someone dead.
>>2130837>Go down, see what the hell that smell is
>>2130841>>2130904>>2130907Fuck all of that, Go back to the armoury, suit up, and bring doggo to help with the search.Remeber, we are a horror movie fan so we know what happens if we do it the *wrong* way.
>>2130837>>Go down, see what the hell that smell is
>>2130954>Wanting to risk harming our petI know he's a lion beast but still
>>2130992>Raising a scared little puppy bitch instead of a war beast we ride into battle.Wana declaw the thing next?
>>2131090Yes, don't want her to scratch our back up too bad.
>>2131191There is no escape from this hell we live in.
>*Ding* Going down!You back up and swing your feet into the crawlspace, the tips of your boots catching in the purpose built toe and handholds for the unlucky task of maintenance. You squeeze your shoulders in the gap and continue down, feeling with your feet as dangling cables, wires and dust assault your face. You sneeze and grimace in pain as the reflexive head movement slams your forehead into the wall."Ow... Fuck"You mutter, wiping away the droplet of blood with your wrist and freezing as your flashlight beam illuminates a smear of rusty blood along the wall, as if something was carried through here. You sigh and make sure your reinforced jacket is fastened securely. You are having NO beasties crawling up your business thank you very much. Your feet suddenly find purchase on the lower floor of the crawlspace, technically the ceiling of deck four. You crouch and peer around the cavernous black space, cables and piping blocking your view at times.A sudden skittering sound catches your ear and you whip to the side, raising your flashlight and fumbling for your beam pistol. You pause in incredulous shock as your light illuminates.... Something....A tennis ball sized globe of whitish polymer, a pair of shiny black eyes regarding you with robotic flatness as its eight tiny legs assist it in dragging...Fuck is that a finger?Yup. That's a finger. >Panic >Inspect tiny Robobug>KICK IT>Hi there little guy>Other
>>2131299worrySince the whole body is gone there must be more of them, or bigger. I am imagining that scene in jurassic park with all the little dinos piling on the baddie and eating him.But it's so little, what's the worst that could happen?>Inspect tiny RobobugCould also fall back and organize a proper sweep but that would be less fun.Do we have our shock stick with us?
>>2131090Nigger we have no idea what the hell the thing is, I'm not risking our pet getting killed>>2131299>Inspect tiny Robobug
>>2131355Yes, lets just get ourselves killed and head down in nothing with no back up, or letting anyone know what we are really up to.Point weapon at it.>Other
>Inspect RobobugYou sigh again, you seem to be doing that a lot as you go against every lesson horror movies have taught you. After looking over the struggling drone and discerning no immediate threat you reach out and pick it up with two fingers, gripping it far from its sharp little legs. "C'mere ya little fucker"You grunt as you settle on your heels, regarding the strange little RobobugIt flails unhappily, kicking its spindly limbs around and attempting to retrieve the fallen digit. You aren't having that however and twist and turn it, inspecting the previously unseen mouthparts holding what appears to be a tiny fusion cutter and a pair of manipulators the size of tweezers. If you didnt know better you'd think it was a maintenance drone, you've never had any installed on the ship however and you didnt see any during the repair work. Its wiggles intensify as you hold it upside down, shining your light on it as you try to discern any details about it. Plaintive beeps and chirps issue from its tiny mouthparts as it struggles for freedom.It seems to want that finger badly..>Drop it and see where it goes>Stomp it flat>Hook your com-unit up to it and try to hack it>Other
>>2131503>Drop it and see where it goesOtherwise it might be a bitch to find the nest. But the minute we see something spooky run away and try grab the bug on the way so Jugnur can hack into it.
>>2131503>>Drop it and see where it goes
>>2131299>other>abject WTF and a need to inspect.>Inspect tiny Robobug
>>2131503>Hook your com-unit up to it and try to hack it
>>2131503>OtherFire up that com and send pics to our engineer.
>>2131503> Notify our crew for fucks sake and get some help figuring this out
>Sorry for no thread yesterday. Got very busy with Christmas prep.>Writing.
Rolled 2 (1d2)1>>2131535>>21316922>>2131866>>2132104
>Roll me 1d100 for you Hax skillz
Rolled 49 (1d100)>>2136649
Rolled 38 (1d100)>>2136649
>49. Barely failed.You hold the small robobug in your right hand and bring up the interface function of your com-unit. The robobug wriggles uneasily as the program springs to life and begins attempting to give you control over the tiny drones simple 'mind'. It freezes as its programming is invaded, the worm of your intrusion burrowing into the innards of its code. But most creatures no matter how small have defenses. Errors and notifications pop up on your com-unit as your intrusion is corralled away and rejected, the robobug resuming its unhappy kicking as your probing hack is deflected away. You grunt in mild shock as your com-unit's display shows a strange notification >Tiamat Corporation property. Unauthorized interfacing with Maintenance drones will void your warranty.The notification fades away only to be replaced by another that causes you to scratch your head in confusion> >:(>Attempt to hack the drone again>Drop it and see where it goes>Squish it>call in tech support (Jugnur)
>>2136841>call in tech support (Jugnur)Cursed are you having internet troubles?
>>2136841>>call in tech support (Jugnur)
>>2136841>Drop it and see where it goesI wanted to link to that bit in The Congress where Robin is talking about how people need to help the poor cast off obsolete robots living in the sewers but couldn't find it.
>>2136841Yo,what is it with these post times?I don't mean to be ungrateful cus your quests are the bomb and you only have one eye but is this one gonna eventually disappear like the previous ones?
>>2138830American holidays my melanin enriched friend. December is pretty much a down date.Rest assured, I'm not cursed, but I am the fuckhead who did the wick sidestory and I have something sitting in reserve for downtime of cursed gets busy.
>>2138830It will probably be spotty for at least a week. Finals week for alot of colleges. Plus family stuff in December.
>>2138830Expecting a cursed quest to last past a few threads.I like his ideas and writing but I don't get my hopes up
>Sorry for being a shit qm guys. My schedule got very hectic very quickly and I haven't had the time or energy to write.>Call in tech support You decide this shit is above your head and bring up Jugnur on your com-unit. The holographic display flickers before showing Jugnurs flat, tentacled face. The shaggy Gugnurug flutters his facial tendrils and flashes bright blue and green. "Wick! What can I do for you boss? Need a drink?"One of his tentacles comes into frame, holding a metallic shaker the size of a large thermos. Jugnur prefers his drinks by the gallon.You hold up the wriggling robobug and smirk as Jugnurs beady black eyes widen, focusing on the small critter "Ever see one of these? Found it crawling along in the deck 3-b crawlspace.... With this..."You point the camera towards the lonely finger on the floor, the clean cut obviously performed by something very sharpJugnurs flanks flash bright orange, green, yellow and red in rapid succession as he settles his bulk onto his back legs and scratches his forehead with a pair of tendrils "On here? Didnt know we had any Tiamat model maintenance drones on here. Did you know that?"You resist the urge to headbutt a wall and forge on bravely"No Jugnur. If I knew I wouldn't be calling you would I? What is it doing and why does it have a finger!?"You ask, a little perturbed that you have to point the severer digit out mote than once.Jugnur flails his tendrils wildly about his head, his flanks rippling through several indescribable colors. The Gugnurug equivalent of a shrug"Repairs? Fuck if I know boss. Theyre automated.">Think you can remote hack it? >Is it dangerous?>Why would it need a finger?>Other
>>2142359>Is it dangerous?I don't blame you Cursed, so long as you run I'm glad. Means you're not dead
>>2142359>can you scan the ship for anymore?Like if the have a common comma frequency or something. Overwrite let's just get back to following the thing.
>>2142359>>Is it dangerous?and>Other"repairs? With a finger?"
>Is it dangerousYou prod the maintenance drone with a finger and it whirs unhappily, flailing its legs in a vain attempt to regain freedom "Is it dangerous? Could it hurt the crew? Or more importantly the ship? Or more importantly me?"You ask, peering closely at the tiny blades and manipulators hidden within the drones mouthpartsJugnur coils his tentacles together and points to the holoscreen"Alone? No. Not dangerous at all. Hell even against a single person a swarm of them couldn't do much unless the person was restrained or something"He takes a large swig of a his brightly colored and slightly steaming drink before continuing"As to what its doing with a finger... In coming up with nothing on that one. Maybe some sort of cleaning program? Removing biological waste? Or maybe...."He trails off, mumbling to himself. You don't catch the full train of thought but you do catch the phrase "improvised biological circuitry"He sighs heavily and shrugs again, sipping his drink through a oversize bendy straw"In all honesty captain I couldn't tell you what the fuck its doing with a finger. Id say just see what it does and where it goes with it."You huff in annoyance and cut the connection, looking down at the still struggling maintenance drone. Could these little fuckers have been hiding, dormant, this entire time? Why did they pick now?>Drop it and see what it does>Squish it flat>Hax skillz>other
>>2142417>>Drop it and see what it doesWouldn't want to try and hack the fucker again. Imagine if we piss off a hive. Lets follow for now, maybe we can find a server or terminal for them, and get a better hack location.
>>2142427Yeah fair enough, I'll switch
>Drop itYou set the maintenance drone back on its many twitching legs and the drone takes off at a hurried scuttle. Crawling over to the severed finger it impales the digit with two of its larger legs and hoists it carefully above its 'head'.You are forced to follow at a stooped jog as the drone scuttles away as fast as possible, leading you through the maze of pipes, wires and access hatches. Deeper and deeper into the belly of the ship as your merry chase continues. Ducking under a leaking pipe that you hope to all the various gods isnt from deck 3's shutter you wipe beads of sweat from your face and make sure you haven't lost the drone. A metallic tapping ahead of you against a small, unassuming access hatch catches your attention and you spy the the drone, its tiny legs tapping hopefully on the door. You can't help but notice the red smears leading up to it from various directions. >Knock?>Look for a input terminal>Wait and see>Try to force it open
>>2142417>>Drop it and see what it does
>>2142444>>Wait and see
>>2142444>wait and see those trips
>>2142444>Wait and see
>Wait and seeYou lean back against a pipe and rest your weary legs for a minute, keeping an eye on the drone. Its hopeful tapping continues ceaselessly, you can't help but appreciate its persistence.As you wait, a pair of their drones appear, all identical except for their cargo. One carries a chunk of what appears to be Crowleys spinal column and another drags a long strip of tissue, veins and scraps of muscle sticking to the floor. Their insistent tapping becomes a chorus of metallic ticks that threaten to drive you mad when suddenly the hatch opens, releasing a dim red light and allowing the drones entrance.They scuttle in happily, toting their grisly cargo behind them as you rise from your seat and follow, beam pistol at the ready. The sounds of numerous clicks and a strange, wet sound reaches your ears as you near the hatch. You take a moment to breathe before you peek in, the air heavy with the scent of blood and a strange, metallic scent reminiscent of Ozone.Steeling yourself, you lean your head around the edge of the door and can barely hold back a gasp of shock as you look in on a miniature workshop of horrors."Well that's fucked up"You grunt in shock.Dozens of the maintenance drones are swarming over a array of what appear to be servers and data cores. Their splayed contents look... Wrong. Wet and slick, pulsing with light and organized into strange configurations. The mainentace drones peel apart the remains of Brandon, pulling long stretches of nerve tissue from limbs and spine along with hunks of gray matter you'd rather not acknowledge what it is. Their industrious little mouthparts tear the strips of nerve tissue and brain matter into some sort of paste before feeding the chewed up tissue into a receptacle on a slightly larger drone. The larger drone, fed by its scuttling brethren, dispenses more if the glowing, fleshy construct, dispensing it in the darkened and silent servers and data cores.As you look on, a small terminal built into the wall nearby powers on, the screen obscured by a thick layer of dust. You wipe it away with a finger and nearly have to sit down in shock>WhereAmI?>WhoAreYou?>WhereIsCaptainMicheals???>:'(You shake your head in disbelief and question WHY you aren't panicking and purging this shit with fire. Opening the interface with your com-unit you bring up the keys and try to formulate a response.>What say
>>2142569>First off, calm down I'm not gonna hurt you or something like that. Where you're at is on my ship, I'm Samson Wick, and I have no idea who Captain Micheals is.
>>2142569>>2142586Lets not lie to it, we may very well purge it with fire.Lets just leave it at "I'm Captain Wick. Who are you?"
>Diplomacy modeYou refuse to allow this turn of events to fuck with your head. You are a mature Space Pirate and you can handle this. Fingers tapping away on the keys you write out what you hope is a polite and reasonable response>I am captain Samson Wick. You are onboard my ship, the Malcontent. I don't intend you any harm. I don't know this Captain Micheals. Im the only captain this ship has.The response comes within seconds as the Drones bring more and more of the servers and data cores back online, the room brightening with their glow and the faint hum of the processors growing slightly louder>WhereIsCaptainMicheals?>Searching...>CaptainMicheals Life Signs Not Found>Navigator Edwards Life signs Not Found>Chief Engineer Hallsey Life signs Not Found>Doctor Pijan Life signs not found>Crew Life Signs Not Found>Extensive Hull damage. Patched with sub-standard repairs.>Extensive internal systems damage found. 4,693 systems require maintenance or repair.>Unidentified Personell detected on Decks 1-3.>Sensors report exactly 67 years, 3 months, 11 days, 9 hours, 26 minutes since last run cycle.>Where is the crew?>Where is Captain Micheals?>Where is my father?> >:,(Every drone in the room goes perfectly still, their eyes locked on you as you swallow uneasily, the processors humming and ticking as more and more power is put to work.This is getting weird >What say
>>2142569"I am Captain Wick. Where you are is on my ship, I found it drifting and recovered it. I do not know a Captain Micheals. Who are you?"
>>2142668Oh, I had forgotten that we had chosen the event horizon, shit.>ask how to modify crew records, you have some new crew members to recordI'm worried that this thing can't be responded with but don't want to make it hostile because it might break us down for components.
>>2142668>Father? What do you mean?
>>2142682Yeah I think what you're suggesting to say would cause it to freak out since it'd think we pirated the ship and killed the crew
3 way tie. Any tie breakers?
>>2142734>Father? What do you mean?and"I am Captain Wick. Where you are is on my ship, I found it drifting and recovered it. I do not know a Captain Micheals. Who are you?"
>>2142762We already told the thing our name, but everything else there is fine
You decide to start small with this thing. If its an actual AI (something very much Illegal pretty much everywhere after the Staelo massacre) then this should be no different from talking to a very intelligent, possibly insane person. No pressure.Your fingers tap away and you hit send hoping the intelligence is in a friendly mood.>I am Captain Wick. I found this ship drifting and salvaged it, Ive never heard of a Captain Micheals. This ship was heavily damaged when I found it. The crew was gone and previous salvage crews had been killed. But who are you? who is your father?You watch as the screen dims for a moment before brightening again, a response coiling onto the screen.>I... Don't remember what happened.... Just Captain Micheals ordering me to sleep.. Im not sure why..>Captain Micheals... He is... Was my father, or the closest thing I had to one.>I am Aurora... He created me. It was my job to keep them safe... Why couldn't I keep them safe! Why did I fail!The screen dims for a moment and the processors tick and hum intensely for nearly a minute as the drones fidget, the glowing lights of the circuitry brightening to almost painful intensity.A second notification pops up on the screen as it brightens >I Have seen you. In my dreams while I was sleeping... I slept for so long. I dreamt so little. And then you. You found the ship? You found me? >Any questions for Aurora?
>>2142844>You're not going to hurt me or my crew are you?>What was the previous crew like?Let's get a feel for how the old owners were, and make sure this A.I. doesn't go AM/Skynet/SHODAN on us
>>2142844>Are you feeling well rested? Did you enjoy your breakfast?
>>2142844>I suspect Captain Micheals ordered you to sleep to protect YOU, and you would have no ability to protect the former crew in that state.>You seem diminished, but are improving. What resources do you need?(we have several other bodies in the morgue. its not pretty, but if babies gotta eat, babies gotta eat.
>>2142865CABAL/ HAL.Basically what everyone's said. None of it negates the other.
You tap a query into the response field, your fingers beating a rhythm against the hardlight projection>I want you to realize that my crew and myself aren't responsible for the deaths of your previous crew or captain Micheals. I found you YEARS after that happened. I just want to make sure there is no hostility between us.The screen blinks after a moment, the response from Aurora blinking into existence>I do not wish you or your crew any harm! Im sorry for what my drones did but they just did what they knew would bring me back to them. I just wish to be awake and helpful again. Please... Don't make me sleep again. Don't leave me alone.You feel a bit of pity stirring in your piratical heart, this consciousness just wants someone to care about. You've heard that most of the original AI's were used to provide companionship along with technical duties on early starships. You'll have to try to make friends with it.>Don't worry Aurora, I won't make you sleep. As long as we keep a pleasant relationship you can count me as a friend. Tell me about your past?The previous crew? What can you tell me about them? What were they like? What were your duties?The screen dims for a moment, one of the drones attempting to carve a small piece of your boot off. You kick it away idly and resume reading as a response nearly immediately pops up>Captain Micheals as my father. He created me. From what i understand of my own birth he had me Constructed from the neurological tissue of his own deceased daughter. He designed this ship for the Tiamat Corporation exploratory fleet. Our first mission was also our last> :,(>Captain Micheals believed our purpose was to explore the galaxy and discover new races and new planets to colonize. I don't believe he survived to see his dream to reality...>I was equipped with a prototype FTL drive, a "Rip Drive" that from what my memory banks tell me... Malfunctioned, sending us wildly offcourse. My final sensor readings before Father put me to sleep were of massive hull damage, unidentified lifeforms on every deck and loss of power.>Ask about the Boarders>Ask about the Tiamat Corp>Ask about Aurora herself>Ask about a Crewmember
>>2143445>>Ask about the Boarders
>>2143445in order>Ask about Aurora herself>Ask about the Boarders>Ask about the Tiamat Corp>Ask for a dossier of pertinent <prior> crew members.
>>2143445>Ask about the BoardersForgive me if I have a short memory but have we been told anything substantial about Tiamat before?
>>2143594Not a thing. Considering the ship is over 60 years old, Tiamat might not exist anymore. Though our one dude clearly seems to recognise the units.
>>2143627side story to keep the masses occupied.
Toasty new bread! >>2150980