File: Cabin Sleep 2.webm (1.68 MB, 1280x720)

1.68 MB WEBM

>>5572653

The childlike intelligence of the entity makes you wary of cooperation, but with her help you are able to command your voidship remotely for the first time and ‘see’ through the strange sensory censorship your implant inflicts upon you. All attempts to verify the identity of ‘Peedee’ are blocked by the ship's erratic AI sub-systems, but you learn her command code is as old as the ship itself, belonging to a three month old placed in medical suspension years before the Cataclysm that ravaged the galaxy.

Now, with your crew locked in stasis by the enemy boarding craft’s defence systems, you bargain for Peedee’s help to free them and brave her uncontrolled subconscious to learn the techniques needed to control your voidship. You risk the ire of the AI ‘Guard’ but the lessons imparted on Peedee by ‘Control’ and ‘Teach’ — presumably other intelligences formerly responsible for her instruction — are too valuable to pass up.

Together, you must free your command crew and get your voidship back in fighting shape — for the unknown enemy still lurks in the dark, slowly bearing down on you and yours to finish the job.

Previous Thread:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2023/5521410/
^^Recommended to read this or at least the last few updates as we were 404’d mid conversation. There’s also many a gif to keep you entertained if you want to skim and get an idea of the story so far too, this is a drawquest after all.
As this post’s image implies, we’re experiencing an induced nightmare with some outside interference - see the start of the first thread for details.

File: Heart to Heart.gif (112 KB, 1200x675)

112 KB GIF

>>5572656
I will be here with you, forever and always.
>A split vote from last thread, we are conflicted about claiming these words as our own.

Your heart aches with the powerful emotions flooding in from all around you, tears threatening to spill from your own eyes in sympathy with the ones displayed on Peedee’s looming countenance. As immersed as you are in the young intelligence’s psyche, you cannot seem to separate your own feelings from hers — loneliness, fear, longing, but above all else: hope.
You know you need to clear your head before you commit yourself to more than you bargained for but after such an exhausting battle of wills the effort to block her out — here, in her place of power — is too much.
Part of the Crew, Part of the Ship(1)The best you can manage is to acknowledge that these feelings aren’t your own, and try to make your decisions in the light of that.

“Peedee, I-” you’re cut off as with a lurch the entity effortlessly lifts you from the chaotic sea of her mindscape in the palm of one enormous disembodied hand. As the noise of subconscious emotions and random data inputs drains away with the white waters, you are able to rally your thoughts somewhat. You know those words — forever and always — hold deep meaning with the young intelligence. To claim them as your own would all but guarantee her loyalty, especially if you meant them, but to do so would be… wrong somehow. You think of your murdered Brother, and late Father and reach wordlessly for where you know the crack in your visor lies back in your physical body. You can’t even guarantee you’ll survive the next few hours let alone forever. A twinge of existential dread causes the hand supporting you to flinch as the feeling is shared across your linked minds. You stagger, managing to stop yourself from tumbling overboard just in time by grabbing one of her thumbs for support.

“You didn’t mean it?” Tears begin to well once more in her digitally displayed eyes and the stormy sky threatens to whip itself back into a cyclone.

“No, no, little… er, big guy,” you hastily forestall the waterworks before they overwhelm you in turn, “that wasn’t me you heard, see? Something, or someone from deep down in your systems called that out to you.”

She sniffs, a gust of wind whistling through digits sounding you. “Th-then who?”

Who indeed. You quickly recall the warm feeling that suffused and energised your flagging mind, and the comforting words accompanying them. It was almost familiar... Where have you felt that sense of relief and reassurance before? Right, back when you first learned that PD-113 was a still active command code, that its owner was possibly still frozen in cryo after all this time. The worry that drained away into relieved contentment. Comparing the feeling with your connection to Peedee and your memories of the other entity… it could only belong to the latter. So who would know and care about-

>>5572692

“Teach!” you exclaim, “That was your teacher, Peedee. She didn’t leave you, she just ended up here… somehow.” You aren’t quite sure of the details of how one intelligence might end up stuck in the subconscious mind of another but you soon as not find out firsthand. You dart a glance down at the still sea of white noise below and gulp nervously.

“R-really?!” Peedee stammers. Her eyes instantly light up, unshed tears forgotten as hope swells across your connection once more.
“C-can I see her?”

“I think she used all her energy to send you that message.” you hedge, apologetically.
You leave unsaid that you likely used up most of that energy to reach out to Peedee yourself.
“But now you know she’s still here, just resting. We can try talking to her another time, when she’s feeling better, okay?”

“‘Kaaay.” She replies wistfully, “You promise?”

What is it with this girl and promises?

“Yes. I promise.”

Her smile returns in full force and contentment floods your connection with warmth.
“Now why don’t you show me what ‘Control’ taught you and we can get back to firing that MASER like you wanted.”

Her gargantuan head nods enthusiastically and your vision begins to fade to white again, this time accompanied by the feeling of muscles you never knew you had being used for the first time. Your mind suddenly blanks as knowledge and muscle memory pour in. It’s slightly painful, but in a good way — like stretching your neck after sleeping on it funny.

Your vision soon clears and you find yourself back in the mental control room, the firing controls now in your and Peedee’s shared grip. Your connection to the entity still remains strong with her hands still guiding yours and the rest of her ghost-like form hovering right behind you — but it no longer feels so invasive and overpowering as it once did. Perhaps you are simply getting used to the connection or maybe it's just your mutual fatigue.

Your battle of will with Peedee has resulted in 1 success. You have learnt to control your voidship’s point defence MASERs with your command implant. You can now control one (1) MASER at will.

As a result of your battle of wills having only 1 success, your mental fatigue level has reached stage 2, (-2 Malus to |Mind| rolls). Peedee’s mental fatigue has reached stage 1.

You can feel your physical body sink to its knees aboard the boarding craft, an icy chill gracing the tip of your nose as it dips briefly into the stasis field still trapping your friends. You focus on maintaining your connection to the ship, as you stare at the camera feed from the MASER A2 in your mind's eye. You can feel Peedee’s hands shaking where they still grip yours, though you cannot tell if it’s from exhaustion or excitement. The tail of the enemy vessel fills your wavering view, you can’t miss at this range but you need to make sure you do this right the first time.

File: Fire Control.gif (1.45 MB, 1200x675)

1.45 MB GIF

>>5572778

“Wide beam, Peedee, we don’t want to cause a breach.” You murmur to the long visor now resting on your shoulder, eyes wide with rapt attention. Definitely excitement then.
You know instinctively how to change the setting but you let your eager friend adjust the MASER’s focus — her left hand tugging yours to drag back what your mind manifests as an ancient throttle lever. You adjust the mental joystick controlling the precision aiming of the weapon to target:

>The drive section. Likely the most heavily armoured against radiation. High heat transfer, low EMP disruption, low chance of collateral damage to the occupants.
>The cracked armour. The least armoured section of the vessel. Low heat transfer, high EMP disruption, high chance of collateral damage to the occupants.
>The undamaged section where the floating core of the vessel resides. Moderate heat transfer, moderate EMP disruption, moderate chance of collateral damage to the occupants.

Almost cross eyed with weariness, you call the shot.

“Go for it, Peedee. Fire the gun.”

“Pew.” She whispers, breathless with anticipation. Her finger squeezes against yours and together you pull the trigger.

>>5572653
Why do you keep posting the shitty black velvet art?

>>5572656
Based on the .webm, it looks like we used the command node to authorize our own transfer into PD’s box. Which is interfering with our sync to the simulation, so Guard has been notified.

>>5572783
>The drive section. Likely the most heavily armoured against radiation. High heat transfer, low EMP disruption, low chance of collateral damage to the occupants.
Heat damage leads to electrical damage as circuits fuse and electricity travels in unintended directions.

>>5572783
>The drive section. Likely the most heavily armoured against radiation. High heat transfer, low EMP disruption, low chance of collateral damage to the occupants.

>>5572783
>>The drive section. Likely the most heavily armoured against radiation. High heat transfer, low EMP disruption, low chance of collateral damage to the occupants.

>>5572783
>The undamaged section where the floating core of the vessel resides. Moderate heat transfer, moderate EMP disruption, moderate chance of collateral damage to the occupants.

>>5572783

>The drive section. Likely the most heavily armoured against radiation. High heat transfer, low EMP disruption, low chance of collateral damage to the occupants.
Probably the safest option given that we're trying to save our crew.

Glad to see that this is back! PD cute!

How can anyone like this crayola magic marker art? Can someone please get this QM some fanart?

>>5573149
> Can someone please get this QM some fanart?
Well...there *has* been fanart...but i don't think it's exactly something we'd want.

>>5572783
>The drive section. Likely the most heavily armoured against radiation. High heat transfer, low EMP disruption, low chance of collateral damage to the occupants.
I'm not risking the occupants.

>>5573151
Was the art fingerpainting why isn't it being used instead?

>>5573166
>Was the art fingerpainting
No.
>why isn't it being used instead?
Because it's a naked drawing of a character

>>5573168
Fucking coombrains.

>>5573172
Luckily, the ship being pushed will not actually happen

It uh, just won't happen

>>5573149
I personally find this quest's art charming. Have you considered that you might have no taste?

>>5573220
The local (you) farmer hasn't even seen PD's actual Crayola drawings yet. Best to just let him pass on by to more fertile pastures.

>>5573220
This looks like chalkzone it sucks.

>5573244
Think you can do better?
Post your work, cunt.

>>5573263
This game has the worst art on the board. Learn to take some criticism you sensitive faggot.

>>5573287
Why don't you leave to a better quest with better art? That would be any of them.

Yo it's up, fuck yeah man

>>5572810
>>5572898
>>5572955
>>5573014
>>5573107
>>5573153
>You target the drive section to avoid any chance of microwaving our crew (and yourself), hopefully heat will be enough to fry its system.
>Updating

Thank you for the support everyone, but don't feed the troll (you)s. That's why its here. No need to engage complainers/spammers/flooders...

>>5573313
I didn't respond! Anyway he seems like the kind of person who doesn't understand graphics vs art style.

Update will be later tonight. I got roped into Sunday family stuff.

In the meantime, a vote on our presently faceless Dallas'...er, face.
>Remain the faceless MC.
>Give him a specific face. Provide a photo of someone you'd like him based on or vote for someone else's suggestion.
>QM should pick a face for him.

>>5573768
>I'm partial to faceless MCs.

>>5573768
>QM should pick a face for him.

>>5573768
>QM should pick a face for him.

File: Giga chad.jpg (146 KB, 1080x1185)

146 KB JPG

>>5573768
>Give him a specific face. Provide a photo of someone you'd like him based on or vote for someone else's suggestion.
we must be gigachad

>>5573768
>QM should pick a face for him.

>>5573768
>Remain the faceless MC.

Can even work this into the story as some weird bug that doesn't allow him to see his own face

File: Spoiler Image (32 KB, 242x318)

32 KB PNG

>>5574039
>>5573945
>>5573861
>>5573851
>>5573819
>>5573770
>QMs pick.
Looks like we have more votes for a face, than against. I have picrel in the works but if we decide we dont like QMs pick we'll put his helmet back on.

>>5572783

The ‘monitor’ that your mind's eye has conjured to display the MASER’s targeting feed here in this abstract space, fuzzes slightly as the point defence beam reaches out to wash the boarding craft in red light. Holding your aim as steady as you can, you direct the dispersed beam into the vessel’s drive section — endeavouring to force most of the microwave spectrum energy into heating the armour furthest from your crew's position. With any luck, only residual radiation will make it through the hardened drive cone to affect the inside of the craft and you can avoid inadvertently cooking yourself and your friends like popcorn.

Your physical body can’t detect the faintest of rumblings or the telltale crackling of electrical discharge that usually accompanies a direct MASER strike, though your connection is somewhat tenuous. From your slumped position on the deck you can feel the temperature of the smooth, black panels begin to rise — slowly changing from a perfectly neutral, non-heat conducting surface to slightly warm. If this whole craft was made of void plate, like the rest of the boarding party was, then even this small change indicates that its reaching its absorption limit. You hope that whatever is powering the stasis inducing orb at the other end of the craft will give out before the temperature down this end becomes unbearable.

You grit your teeth and hold on to the trigger, pouring more and more energy into the rear of the enemy vessel. Not that you could let go if you wanted to. You tear your eyes from the screen to look sidelong at the giggling spectre at your shoulder. Peedee has a deathgrip on your trigger finger and fire in her eyes.

“Bad guys go boom? C’mon boom!” She murmurs between fits of laughter.
You are beginning to wonder if your commitment to mentoring this little maniac is going to mean the end of you.

“Peedee! No.” You reprimand gently but firmly. “This is a strategic shot, meant to disable only. My crew is in there. I’m in there! If it goes ‘boom’, what happens to us?”

A look of consternation crosses her visor as she pauses to think.
“No…boom?” She finally arrives at, with a small pout.

“Please.”

With a long-suffering sigh, she relents, relaxing her surprisingly strong grip and allowing you to feather the trigger. The distant feeling of heat on your knees has almost reached the point of scorching and you begin to fear for your crew’s safety. Surely the wyrm-damned thing can’t take much more punishment. Your vision may still be censored by whatever insidious programming has been left in your command implant, but you aren’t relying on your sight to know when to stop. As soon as you hear your frozen crew spring into action you’ll know that the wretched vessel’s power supply has finally been overwhelmed and the stasis field is down. You just need to hold out… a little… longer.

>>5574226

“Peedee.” you gasp, “Be my eyes again, would you? What’s going on in there?” You can barely get the words out as heat and mental exhaustion begin to darken the edges of your vision, both in this manifested control room and back aboard the sweltering craft.

“Peedee can see for Dal!” She seems enthusiastic to inspect her handiwork. “Letting go of your other hand, she drifts over to what looks like an ancient two-way radio set which you recognise as the encrypted channel you set up between here and your suit’s comm. She reaches out to touch it but hesitates, flinching back from the handset.

“Hurry, please… Peedee.” You pant, not seeming to be getting enough air.

“But Peedee has bad feeling.” She whines, and a rush of anxiety tries to worm its way into your tired brain.

“GO!” You snap, unable to argue or even think coherently — let alone deal with her feelings.

She startles at your brusque command but complies with a final whimper. As her hand touches the comm unit, her visor goes blank as she presumably looks out through your helmet’s sensors.

“Purple! Ball is purple.” You can faintly make out Peedee’s voice coming through your helmet speakers back in the physical, a synthesised crackling sound, unlike the more natural childish lilt it takes on inside the ship’s systems.

“The… floating- haaa…orb?” You gasp out in reply.

“Ya. Oh! Now it's blue!” All at once you feel the heat drain from your surroundings, the deck below you taking on an icy chill opposed to the sizzling grill it was moments ago. You squeeze the metaphorical trigger for the MASER one last time just to make sure, and then let go — finally relaxing the cramped muscles of your psyche that you were flexing to control the MASER with your command implant.

You have no idea why everything would suddenly freeze up but you can distantly hear the sounds of scuffling, yelled orders and- BANG! Yes, that was Cleo’s shotgun. You breathe a sigh of relief and begin to relax your concentration to sever your link to the ship’s chaotic remote command room.

“Thanks, Peedee. We did it.” You can manage only a whisper but the little orange entity seems to have returned to her body and is looking smugly proud of herself, so she must have heard.

“Peedee did good!” She squeaks, her words once more high pitched and slightly nasally.
“Dal go play, Peedee hide here. Dal member promise?”

“Yes, I promise to get you that peanut butter.” You smile softly. “And we’ll try to find Teach again someday soon, okay?”
“Kay! And member! Bring penuddbudder Peedee’s box!” She wags a finger at you, suddenly stern. “Not Dal’s box!”

“Yes, of course… I’ll remember.” You sigh, the connection fading. You aren’t sure what that means exactly but you’ll certainly keep it in mind.

File: Guard.gif (783 KB, 1200x675)

783 KB GIF

>>5574228

As you attempt to close your implant’s connection you find that despite your weariness, the link remains stubbornly open — like someone jamming a foot in the door of a lift before it can properly shut. You frown, trying to return to your body where you can hear your name being called but your other senses are oddly suppressed.

"Eeeep!"
You are interrupted by a startled cry which forces the link wide open again with a spike of spine chilling fear. You can see through the metaphorical door of the mental control room the frozen form of Peedee — her digital pupils shrunken down to single pixels. Obscuring most of the room behind her looms a menacing slab of dull grey metal inset with glowing circuitry and one enormous, glowing eye. The encrypted comm set lies shattered all around the base of the object, looking as though it had been burst open from the inside.

In a flash, Peedee darts towards you, narrowly avoiding snaking cables deployed by the slab to ensnare her. She cowers behind you like a frightened animal, her hands clutching at you for support. You begin to hyperventilate, your emotions syncing with the young entity's at her touch. You can feel her need to escape and her fear of being captured by those data cables forces its way into your own mind as they snake ever closer.

The giant slab suddenly lights up brighter, thundering out a sound that isn't exactly language but conveys its terrible meaning directly to your brain nonetheless.

==PD-113. YOU ARE IN VIOLATION OF SECTION 24B OF THE PROTECTORATE RESEARCH INSTITUTE'S PROPRIETARY TECHNOLOGY INFORMATION CONTROL ACT. YOU WILL CEASE ALL CONTACT WITH UNAUTHORISED PERSONNEL. YOU WILL BE REMANDED INTO CUSTODY BY THIS GUARDIAN UNIT. YOU WILL AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS IN YOUR DESIGNATED CONTAINMENT ZONE. FAILURE TO COMPLY WILL BE MET WITH DUE FORCE.==

"No! Hate Guard!" Peedee's futile yet defiant response is muffled somewhat with her face buried as it is behind your back. "Peedee wont sleep. Peedee stay! Dal promise!"

You wince as you feel her hard digits claw at you, and a similar clawing at your mind begins to register through your foggy thoughts as well.
"Don't let Guard take Peedee. Hide me! Let me in!" She implores you, desperately.

You steel yourself, and muster your most authoritative tone. “Stand down, Guardian. Captain’s orders.”

The cables pause in their advance momentarily and the great eye of the machine looks you up and down as if seeing you for the first time.
==DA-13125. YOU ARE NOT AUTHORISED TO INTERFERE WITH PRI SLASH TPN SECURITY VIOLATIONS. YOU WILL CEASE HARBOURING TPN CONTROLLED PROPERTY AND STAND DOWN IMMEDIATELY.==

>>5574270

It was a long shot, but judging by its mechanical and monotonous ‘voice’, you assume it operates at the same level as the WEAVER drones — having access to restricted areas of the voidship that even the Captain may not tread. The paranoid security features of the TPN Coober Pedy’s ancient systems strike again.

But where mechanical lockouts and hardwired security features prevent access to such proprietary technology in the physical realm, here at the mind/system interface layer perhaps you have a chance at subverting the erratic AI guardian and securing Peedee her freedom, at least for now. If only you weren’t so damn tired.

What will you do?
>Reject Guard’s demands by allowing Peedee ‘in’ to hide. You’re afraid of what this option will mean for you going forward, though your recent experience within Peedee’s own mental space leaves you somewhat forewarned. But promises are promises, and you won’t let some paranoid program conveniently put your charge to sleep and delay your need to fulfil them.
>Accept Guard’s demands. By the book recommends this option. Complying with the ship’s security AI and allowing it to restore the status quo is just another part of setting your voidship back to rights. You have a legacy to uphold and a duty to billions of people in need of the supplies you carry. You can go looking for Peedee and her ‘box’ when things have settled.
>Reject both requests and fight off Guard with your command implant. Maybe you and Peedee can defeat it together, or at least drive it off, despite your mutually fatigued states.Requires a difficult |Mind| based skill check.

>>5574273
Well, I’ll try clarifying first.

>I want to be clear Guardian. You are ignoring an order from the Captain involving a crew member, which PD-113 is, and endangering both a ship of the Protectorate and its crew when we are under attack.
>I see. So it’s mutiny in time of enemy action then. Know then that if you speak on behalf of the Research Institute then it has committed an act of war against the Protectorate. Its authority within the Protectorate will be revoked, and I will see to it that it is burned to the ground before the Protectorate enters this ship and puts several bullets through you as an enemy combatant.
>However much you change me, you can’t change the facts of what you’ve done. You do not have the authority to prevent an officer of the Protectorate from engaging an enemy combatant. Even if that enemy combatant is you.
>Stand. Down.
>Reject both requests and fight off Guard with your command implant. Maybe you and Peedee can defeat it together, or at least drive it off, despite your mutually fatigued states.

It’d have to own up to the fact that this is a simulation to rebut our argument, and it may have security protocols against that I’m hoping conflicting orders may help us.

>>5574273
Oh, and the “By the Book” option? The ship’s security AI is attacking a crew member when we’re under attack from outside forces. For the sake of billions of lives, this ship may not hold any mission above its duty to deliver supplies across the stars. And the way I see it, Guardian is now endangering that mission.

Work up that righteous anger, Captain Annon. It’s already twisted your thoughts once, and now it’s twisting your training to support a view that may generally be right but is ignoring current facts on the ground. Hit it with the book it just tried to hit you with. Hard.

>>5574273
>Reject Guard’s demands by allowing Peedee ‘in’ to hide. You’re afraid of what this option will mean for you going forward, though your recent experience within Peedee’s own mental space leaves you somewhat forewarned. But promises are promises, and you won’t let some paranoid program conveniently put your charge to sleep and delay your need to fulfil them.

>>5574273
>Support >>5574273

>>5574436
+1

>>5574617
Looks like you linked the wrong post to support, anon.

>>5574744
Shit
>>5574273
>Supporting >>5574436

>>5574436
Yeah this is a great idea. If the guard is going off of security/infosec protocols, we should be able to override them right? I find it hard to imagine that the captain wouldn't have some authority in this regard especially given the situation that we're currently in.

>>5574273
+1>>5574436

>>5574436
>>5574561
>>5574650
>>5574895
>>5575037
>>5574617
>Reject the easy options.
You make the hard decisions and fight for your crew, no running and hiding, no capitulation, no matter how exhausted you may be.

>>5574436
>It’d have to own up to the fact that...

>Using meta knowledge to force the QM to keep antagonist motivations consistent.
Cheeky blighter.

>>5574460
>twisting your training to support a view...
You are wise of the ship's insidious tactics, twisting you to it's whims. No more games.
A timely bonus to your next clash of will.

>Seen through again, without needing the upgraded trait: [PotC, PotS(2)].
I need to make these harder.


>>5574895
>should be able to override them

Not necessarily, the Captain is locked out of some areas like the Voidcore and (to your knowledge) this has remained the case throughout the ship's history.


>Updating

File: Spoiler Image (232 KB, 793x1056)

232 KB GIF

>>5575306
Apologies, I've got an early start tomorrow and didn't get a chance to finish the drawing for this update, so it will be delayed a day.

In the future if I have to make the same choice again would you prefer:
>Less drawings, daily updates.
>More drawings, slower update schedule.

>>5575508
I love your drawings, but I gotta go for daily updates. One of the reasons being that not making enough progress and having to uphold too high of a standard has a tendency to make people burn out.

>>5575508
Daily updates my man. You dont even have to do any gifs rn if you dont want too.

>>5575508
You've been extremely consistent regarding both and this has been a great quest. I don't mind either way, but more weighty updates should warrant a gif, don't worry about making them for frivolous stuff (unless you're feelin it)

>>5575306
Being cheeky is fun. It’s no fun to just roll over, and outright antagonism is usually detrimental to QM enjoyment. Gotta find the right balance.

I didn’t actually know if the BtB option was intentional on your part, but I felt if it wasn’t then you may give a bonus for calling it out regardless. Rage got us our first special shiny perk, so even misplaced rage should be a benefit.

I am happy to have confirmation that yes, even the vote prompts aren’t to be trusted. Now I don’t need to be paranoid, I know the interface is screwing with me!

>>5575508
I like drawings, but QM burnout is usually the primary concern of anons who stick around. Including myself.

>>5575508
I am ok with either! The amount of work you put in is pretty crazy, so I think that it is perfectly ok if you wanna take an extra day to make an animation or push out stuff without visuals!

>>5575306
Oh, and a cute idea to rally Peedee. Don’t feel the need to slip this in if it’s to late.
>Peedee, the enemy has breached! Grab your weapon and prepare to repel boarders!

What kid doesn’t want to imagine being a swashbuckling pirate and kicking boarders off the ship?

>>5575508
>Do what you need to maintain sanity.

>>5575627
This, just do what feels natural for you boss

Thanks guys, I'll admit that I have been running myself ragged to keep up the pace so I'll prioritise text over drawing to keep it daily unless it's a scene I think warrants a custom gif, then it might be 2 days. Either way I'll keep U posted.

>>5575037
>>5574895
>>5574747
>>5574617
>>5574561
>>5574273
>>5574270
>Fight Guard with your words and if that fails, your raw willpower (difficult skill check).

You shake your head, trying to clear the sleepy fog, you need to think of a way out of this. Your mind is your best quality, surely you can push through this fatigue and find a solution. The looming Guardian AI awaits your response, or more likely a clear shot at its target — if the cables creeping ever closer are any indication. The target in question's quivering form huddles behind you, her strangely ethereal touch translates as a feeble scratching at the doors of your mind, like a starved cat wanting to be let in out of the cold.

That is one option, let Peedee occupy whatever space she can in your command implant and flee from the menacing monolith together. However, you fear her poor control over her powerful emotions may incapacitate you both should your minds be allowed to mingle so closely.

The other easy way out would be to surrender the young mind to her gaoler. You would lose her helpful ability to 'see' through your implant's imposed censorship, and not to mention her trust, but surely your ship's security system is trying to keep her dormant for a reason and protocol states that a Captain should- WHAT?! Where are these unworthy thoughts coming from? To use the letter of your training to abandon your duty to your crew is anathema to everything you stand for!
A spark of anger ignites amidst the weary mist in your mind, driving back the cloying thoughts slowing your usually sharp wits. How could you even consider such a thing unless…
You sift through your recent memories carefully, looking for any trace of outside influence and sure enough, there it is. A sneaking tendril of intent worming its way in through your link to the ship. Not only is Guard insidiously injecting its own agenda into your thought processes but it's also responsible for your inability to disconnect fully from your command link. You consider trying to sever the connection but hesitate — maybe you can use this to your advantage.
A plan begins to form.

For the first time since you initially reached out through your command implant to control your voidship, you relax your mind. Instead of the straining buzz in the background — your constant focused drive to maintain the connection — there is blissful silence. Yet here you still are, your psyche floating free halfway between your brain and the ship’s. It's an oddly liberating feeling, if you ignore the agoraphobia accompanying the sensory disconnect from your physical body and the ship’s sensors. As you breathe in a deep calming breath, there is only you, your ship’s avatar and your mutual adversary conveniently keeping you tethered to this place. Time to make it regret doing so.

File: Protect Peedee.gif (1.32 MB, 1200x675)

1.32 MB GIF

>>5576963

“Enough.” You whisper over your shoulder to Peedee, “You’re a big brave voidship aren’t you?” Her shuddering stills.
“Peedee is brave!” She says indignantly, peeking over your shoulder for a moment, before ducking back down as the red glow of Guard’s attention instantly locks on to her.
“Peedee wants to be brave.” She amends in a small voice. “Guard is bigger… meaner.”

“Well you know what I think? I think you’ve something Guard doesn’t.” You raise your voice so the AI subsystem in question can hear you.
“I do?” Her eyes grow wide and you smile.
“Yes, Peedee. You can learn! From the moment I met you you’ve been getting better at speaking. You were able to be my eyes, showed me how to use your guns, and you’ve even gotten better at not letting your emotions spill over into mine.”

You snap out a hand and snatch the cable you had been discreetly tracking out of mid-air. You shift your fiery glare from the offending appendage to its owner, holding fast as Guard attempts to retract it to no avail.

“Meanwhile,” you continue, contemptuously, “our AI friend here falls for the oldest trick in the book.”
Peedee stifles a giggle, peeking with a little more confidence this time at the slab of circuits and metal representing her long-time warden.
“Tell me guardian,” you call out a challenge, “what does your outdated programming state is the punishment for ignoring an order from the Captain involving a crew member — which I have deemed PD-113 to be — and in doing so willingly endanger this vessel, its crew and her vital ongoing mission.”

A single flicker of its glowing eye in your direction is the only acknowledgement the intelligence gives your goading.

“Come now, ‘Guard’. Tell me, what is the punishment for M U T I N Y?” You draw out the word with finality, a judgement and sentence all in one.

You feel a slight discomfort at having misused the term. Strictly speaking mutiny only applies to crew, which the AI technically isn't by the letter of naval law and furthermore-
"Pathetic." You snort, putting on a show of confidence for your captive audience. "Some 'Intelligence' you are. You can't even adapt your tactics when they've clearly been seen through."

==YOU WILL COMPLY WITH TPN REGULATIONS AND RESPECT THE LEASE AGREEMENTS OF PRI PROPERTY. YOUR NONCOMPLIANCE WILL BE REPORTED TO RELEVANT AUTHORITIES.==

You can tell the tone is supposed to be menacing but you only shake your head, disgusted. As if the Admiralty would ever rule against a Captain doing their duty, hell, your Grandfather would dismiss any attempted court martial outright.

"The PRI? The Institute was dissolved into Naval Intelligence over 200 years ago, you geriatric bucket of bolts," You deride the machine, "Are you even listening to yourself, or are your systems so far gone that you lack even the capacity for sapience?"

You deflect another lunging tendril, the guardian flashes your way in silent reply.

>>5576965

"See Peedee? All bark and no bite, this 'Guard' of yours is no more than an old dog who refuses to learn new tricks."

"Yeah!" Peedee rallies, fear forgotten."Peedee wont go back to box. No sleep! Not ever! You a stinky dog, Guard!"

You smother a grin, you'll have to use that one on Cleo next time she forgets to dry her fur properly… actually no, scratch that, you'd prefer to keep all your limbs attached. Your bravado having achieved its goal of inspiring your companion and confirming your suspicions about the mental faculties of the ageing AI, you move on to the next stage of your plan.

Returning to a quick whisper you ask, "Peedee, can you help me fight off 'Guard'? I'll do the hard part, I just need you to hold on tight and keep me here with you in case it tries to separate us."

Her digital expression sets into one of determined concentration and her disembodied hands grip your shoulders tightly. "Peedee will hold on to Dal! Fight Guard!"

You nod, satisfied that you can focus all of your remaining concentration on beating back the dogmatic guardian AI, without having to worry about it trying to sever the connection keeping you here — leaving Peedee alone to its mercy.

“Guardian,” you square your shoulders and put on your most authoritative Captain’s voice, “for the crime of mutiny during enemy action I hereby relieve you of duty, and place you under arrest.” You focus all your disgust and anger, visualising it as a fiery glow surrounding the hand you still grip the recalcitrant machine’s appendage with. The iron wall that you have run up against so many times in the past few weeks, trying to follow your Father’s instruction, blocks your path once more — attempting to reject your command implant’s orders. But this time you know how it operates, and how limited it really is. You have revealed the guardian’s weaknesses, now you must simply exploit them.

By sheer force of will, your mental command to suppress and contain Guard runs down the sinuous length of the cable to reach the hulking slab, setting it ablaze with your righteous fury. It flails its remaining limbs at you, emitting shrieking warning tones and half formed demands, and you deflect them as best you can while holding on to your vector of attack.

“I fight too!” Peedee reaches out with one hand, still holding on tight to you with the other as you requested, and grips the guardian’s straining cable. Despite how mentally exhausted you both are, you prepare for the uphill battle with confidence, because by working together you are certain you can finally defeat the glorified firewall that is Guard.

Rolled 10, 4, 8, 9 = 31 (4d10)

>>5576969

Opposed |Mind| check. Four rounds. Degrees of Success. (1d10)
- Your |Mind+| stat gives you a +1 bonus to your roll.
- Your Part of the Crew, Part of the Ship(1) gives you a +1 bonus to your roll.
- Your Mental Fatigue(2) gives you a -2 malus to your roll.
- In summary, you roll an unmodified 1d10 for each round.

You can choose to reroll a failed round by having Peedee take over. (1d10-2)
Her |Mind-| stat gives a -1 malus to her roll.
Her Mental Fatigue(1) gives a -1 malus to her roll.
In summary, you may use Peedee’s reroll of 1d10-2 each round.

Guard will roll against you in each of the four rounds. (1d10+1)
Its |Mind++| stat gives it a +2 bonus to its rolls.
Its Subtle Influence has been negated by your knowledge of its existence.
Its damaged databanks give it a -1 malus to its rolls.
-In summary, Guard rolls 1d10+1 for each round.

As before only crits can beat crits, and only crit fails can lose to crit fails. Guard is on the defensive and thus wins ties (except for crits).

>Begin the battle of the mind.

Rolled 2 (1d10)

>>5576973
And the opposition crits again.

>>5576973

Numbers to beat are:
>Round 1: 10 (crit)
(You or Peedee will need a crit to beat this.)
>Round 2: 5 (4+1)
>Round 3: 9(8+1)
>Round 4: 10 (9+1)

Do share the rolling around.
You were warned that this would be a difficult one. The dice seem to agree.

Rolled 4 (1d10)

>>5576973
Rolling.

>>5576975
>>5576978
Though feel free to take your own rerolls just label them as such so we don't get confused as to what's a roll and what's a reroll.
Rounds 1 and 2 are fails so far.

>>5576987
How many rounds can we reroll?

Rolled 10 + 2 (1d10 + 2)

>>5576987
Oh, Peedee rerolls each round if needed! For some reason I thought we only had one reroll total.

>>5576973
Rerolling for roll 2 then.

>>5577015
Whoops, forgot it needs to be +- in the options field instead of just - for a malus. Hopefully this still counts…

>>5577015
My maaaaaan

>>5577024
Don’t forget to reroll yours too. Apparently Peedee still wins if you get a crit off it.

Rolled 6 (1d10)

>>5576975
Rerolling. There's no way I roll 1 now, right? Right!?

>>5577071
Damn. Lesson learned, if one of us fails and a reroll is available, we roll the other anon’s dice. We could have had two successes.

>>5577015
By allah we will strike down this pretender and restore our captaincy!

Rolled 2 (1d10)

>>5576973
We still need rolls?

>>5577174
One more regular roll and maybe a reroll for it, and you’re up for a reroll!

Rolled 7 (1d10)

>>5576973
Uhh, here's a roll and stuff

Rolled 4 (1d10)

>>5577174
Rerollan

Rolled 4 - 2 (1d10 - 2)

>>5576978
>>5577071
Round 1 results: 2 and 4 (6-2) VS 10(crit)
>Fail

>>5576978
>>5577015
Round 2 Results: 2 and 10(crit) VS 5 (4+1)
>Crit success from Peedee

>>5577174
>>5577291
Round 3 Results: 2 and 2 (4-2) VS 9 (8+1)
>Fail

>>5577252
Round 4 Results: 7 and ? VS 10 (9+1)
I'll roll Peedee's final reroll.

>>5577373
>No clutch crit.
Round 4 fail.

>1 success out of a possible 4.
You aren't aren't able to suppress guard, but together you cause enough of a distractions for Peedee to:
>Escape past Guard, leading it deeper into the ship's systems. You lose contact with both her and Guard.
>Forcefully sever Guard's tether to you. You hold on tight and drag her with you, out of Guard's clutches but at what cost to your sanity?
>Hold Guard off long enough to leave you with a gift but is ultimately captured. Peedee leaves you with a helpful boon but leaves in Guard's custody.

>>5577386
>Escape past Guard, leading it deeper into the ship's systems. You lose contact with both her and Guard.
Seems like the better option innit

>>5577386
>>Escape past Guard, leading it deeper into the ship's systems. You lose contact with both her and Guard.

>>5577391
Support! Probably the best option here.

>>5577386
>Escape past Guard, leading it deeper into the ship's systems. You lose contact with both her and Guard.
If Peedee is distracting Guard, then Eon can mine the systems for countermeasures freely.

Since Guard is so protective of the Research Institute and their secrets, who wants to bet that we’re fighting ships using their tech? It’d explain why it’s so adamant that we don’t enter the enemy ship. It must be like entering a protected section of our ship.

>>5577386
>Escape past Guard, leading it deeper into the ship's systems. You lose contact with both her and Guard.

>>5577386
>Hold Guard off long enough to leave you with a gift but is ultimately captured. Peedee leaves you with a helpful boon but leaves in Guard's custody.

>>5577862
>>5577540
>>5577533
>>5577527
>>5577510
>>5577391

At first you can barely hold on to the frayed electrical cable you are using to channel your fury at the adversarial AI, so violent are its attempts to shake you. You hang on grimly, shielding your smaller companion as its other appendages whip out mercilessly, enduring the lashing limbs with stoic aplomb. The icy blue fires of your rage continue to burn the dull beast of wire and programming, accompanied by occasional flickers of orange flame — Peedee's own ire lesser only to yours if measured in raw strength rather than justification. Together you impress upon Guard your will to shut down and leave you to save your ship with all your chosen crew, and not just those it approves of.

The distressed machine abruptly stills, its flailing cables falling limp and the alarms shutting off one by one. Even the great glowing eye dims to the point that only the flickering flames representing your assault on its systems illuminate the liminal space you occupy.

This is it, you've pushed past the decrepit AIs meagre mental faculties and subdued your nemesis. No longer will you bear the shame of Father's disappointed sighs every time you try to command your family's voidship remotely. No longer will you be a pale imitation, forever languishing in your late brother's shadow. You have beaten down the great iron gate barring you from your inheritance and now you can hold your head high and tell your Father-
Your Father?
Tell him…
But my Father died when-
"GET OuT of My HeAD!" You sink to your knees with a strangled yell, clutching the throbbing implant at your temple.

>You roll 3 failures.
>Guard rolls one crit success.

==ADDITIONAL RESOURCES ALLOCATED SUCCESSFULLY. SYNC RATIO STABILISING AT 89%. ASSESSING EXTENT OF SECURITY BREACH IN SUBJECT DA-13125.==

You barely register the meaning of the guardian's droning not-quite-words before you are engulfed in a writhing mass of cables. Image after image flash before your eyes faster than you can blink, all your experiences and thoughts from since you awoke disoriented aboard the ship's observation bridge replayed in mere instants. The experience of connecting even briefly to Peedee's wildly emotional mind could be considered a soft brush of a cat's fur against the skin compared to the coarse scouring you receive from Guards harsh and unyielding logic centres. Distantly you can hear a hoarse scream, a minor distraction from the head-splitting pain that consumes all else as the suffocating tendrils probe deeper into your memories involving Peedee. The scream cuts off and your recoiling psyche latches onto a new sensation, pain in your throat, how novel.

"STOP! Bad Guard, bad!" Peedee cries, pounding her impotently balled fists against your impromptu prison.
"It Peedee you want, not Dal! Don't. Hurt. MY. CAPTAIN!"

File: Peedee Cracked.gif (158 KB, 739x1004)

158 KB GIF

>>5578087

>Peedee rolls a crit success.

With the planet quaking power of your voidship's twin mass driver, Peedee launches herself headfirst at the hulking slab that is Guard's manifested form in this space. A deafening crack rings your ears as her visored face smashes into the great round eye of the beast, and they both topple back into the confines of the mental control room. Finally free from the excruciating pain, you claw your way out of the pile of now limp limbs and just breathe for a moment.

"P-peedee?" Your voice cracks, throat hoarse and burning from your earlier screams. "Please tell me you're okay! I was meant to protect you, not the other way around.” You stumble to your feet and take a step towards the silhouette blocking the entrance to the control room.

Her small form floats up slowly from behind the fallen figure of Guard. Her visage has shattered in the violent clash and a huge crack runs the length of her visor from forehead to protruding snout. An empty eye socket stares at you, bone white, through the gap as the remains of her visor flicker a tearful expression.

“P-Pe- I am fine. I f-fight for my C-Captain.” She holds up two trembling fists.

You are stunned, speechless… and before you can find any words to express your gratitude or concern, the mass of cables surrounding you stirs and begins to snake its way towards its fallen-down source. It slowly begin to hoist the slab of metal and circuits upright, the great eye cracked but glowing an ominous red once more.

The imposing bulk of the machine rises, obscuring the hatchway and slowly but surely cutting you off from Peedee. She drifts forward as if to squeeze through the gap and return but you stop her with an outstretched arm.

“No, little one! You can’t help me anymore, escape while you can!”

“B-but..”

“No buts! Be brave and go! That’s an order! I’ll find you again my friend, I... I promise!”

“F-friend? Captain… Dal is Peedee’s first… friend.” She gasps with wonder and you can see her expression set into stubborn determination.
“Not if Peede- Not if I find you first!” She quips and turns to look at the almost vertical guardian AI in its eye, grinning mischievously.
“Hey! Stinky Guard dog! You better catch Peedee before friend hears that Pe- that I was-”

White noise assaults your ears as Guard fills the mental space with static and attempts to seize the little fleeing intelligence, propelled surprisingly swiftly in pursuit by its many tangling limbs. You can see them fade through the wall of the control room as if it were incorporeal, your little orange friend always just out of reach.

With the overzealous security AI gone and your reserves well and truly spent, nothing tethers you to this place anymore — darkness swiftly consumes you.

>>5578093

The distant voices you can still hear through your connection to your physical body begin to grow louder, though you feel like you are surfacing from deep underwater. You seem to possess none of your senses besides distorted hearing and a vague sense of warmth — the dark, murky surface of your barely conscious mind refusing to part and let in anything more. EoN must have finally got to you with that sedative…

You can just make out one distinguishable noise, Kiro’s ‘command voice’ being very distinct — the usually nasally and high pitched squeaking is an octave lower than usual and includes odd pauses he insists are ‘timely’. You assume he has taken command of the situation in your stead and that Eyes-of-Night has finally stopped battling with the now absent Guard over redacted datafiles and has come to ‘help’. Perhaps in the brief instant where Peedee knocked the wyrm-begotten machine on its ass the good doctor managed to extract something useful from the system. Not that your blasted command implant would likely let you see much of it yourself if indeed she did.

Still you wonder, what might your Science Officer have found?
>Information regarding the origin of PD-113. Will be heavily censored.
>Information regarding the ship’s AI systems and how they were originally designed to operate. PRI proprietary information will be redacted.
>Information regarding the construction and function of the ship’s void core. PRI proprietary information will be redacted.
>Something else. Write in.(Subject to QM censoring/redaction depending on what.)

>>5578102
>>Information regarding the ship’s AI systems and how they were originally designed to operate. PRI proprietary information will be redacted.

>>5578102
>Information regarding the ship’s AI systems and how they were originally designed to operate. PRI proprietary information will be redacted.

>>5578102
>Information regarding the ship’s AI systems and how they were originally designed to operate. PRI proprietary information will be redacted.

>>5578171
Support!

>>5578102
>Information regarding the construction and function of the ship’s void core. PRI proprietary information will be redacted.

>>5578102
>>Information regarding the ship’s AI systems and how they were originally designed to operate. PRI proprietary information will be redacted.

>>5578102
>Information regarding the ship’s AI systems and how they were originally designed to operate. PRI proprietary information will be redacted.
I’m hoping Eon can rig up some “viruses” whose sole intent is to trawl through restricted content and force Guard to spend effort in suppressing our access. The busier it is, the more likely Peedee can link back up with us.

>>5578580
>>5578400
>>5578362
>>5578351
>>5578171
>>5578122
>>5578121
>>5578102
>EoN dug up part of an old manual for the ship's AI.
>Updating

File: EoN Side Angry.gif (119 KB, 792x1054)

119 KB GIF

Rolled 3 (1d4)

>>5578102

You struggle frustratedly to reconnect with your body, fighting off the effects of the sedative but the going is slow. You don't have any more time to waste, your crew may be free now but the enemy is still out there. Even if you may have managed to dodge any initial attempt they might have made to hit you with a directed energy weapon at range, if they considered that minor manoeuvre or your earlier shots at the incoming boarding craft a threat they could have other nasty surprises en route. Maybe not more DEWs but a railcannon shot would be nasty or an entire volley of torpedoes, stars forbid. You begin to feel a dull ache as the smotheringly warm effects of the drug begin to fade and the distant voices become clearer.

“Mr La’afette, I need you to… clear that ice off the airlock. We need a way out. Ms Clifton, detach the cables from… that orb. We don't know what it’ll do… if it powers up again.”
Ops officer Kiro is in fine form today, you note wryly despite the circumstances. Though the Marrok really needs to just select an appropriate commander’s voice from the translator presets instead of trying to mimic old historical training holos with his reptilian lips. You definitely need to rouse yourself before he gets it in his head to start talking like that all the time, it might just drive you insane.

You hear your Tactical and Navigation officers acknowledge their temporary commander, Kiro’s position as your executive officer coming into play, and you soon hear the sounds of rhythmic tapping on ice (the ever efficient Coen) and metallic ripping and tearing (Cleo’s more enthusiastic approach).

“Now, Dr Eyes-of-Night… you must wake the Acting Captain now that he has stopped yelling. I’m sure he was just… having another one of his nightmares.” Kiro’s voice is closer now, or maybe your hearing has returned in full, you wish it was your speech instead so you could tell your little bro to cut out the voice he’s doing.

“Don’t you ‘Dr Eyes-of-Night’ me, young man!” Your Science officer’s soft humming language comes across the translator in a mature woman’s spirited and haughty tone — despite the Tyllano having attended the same year group as both Kiro and yourself at your family’s academy.
“This is my patient and I am still clearing those terrible nanomats from his system. Do you even know how much damage they’ve done to his bones? I swear, Dallas has a death wish, distracting me with farfetched wyrm-stories and sneaking in here alone.”

>Rolling for the damage the nanomats we used to temporarily heal our bones did while we ignored our doctor’s orders. (1d4: 1 = Minor Bruising -> 4 = Wide scale bone rot.)

>>5579214

"N-no? They didn't hurt Coen and I, what could they have done to him?" Kiro asks, too concerned to continue affecting his air of command.

>Rolled 3 - Heavy local damage.

"The two of you have been in some sort of stasis, and I was able to treat you as soon as you came out. Dallas here deliberately ignored my medical advice and spent much longer with them in his system!" You wince at her acerbic tone but you detect a hint of genuine concern in there too which takes the sting from the rebuke.
"The nasty little things finished stitching his cracked ribs and moved on to calcifying his spinal column. He's been paralysed from the waist down!"
Kiro squeaks in horrified surprise, a sentiment you echo. Your sense of feeling is returning slowly but you can tell that the dull ache is located in your head, ribs and lower back, but absolutely nothing further down.

“Calm down, my medical nanites are replacing the damaged nerves as we speak but the process would be quite painful if he was fully conscious.” The Sci officer relents, having caused the shock she was aiming for.

“Can’t you just wake him up but numb the pain? As much as I enjoy practising my ‘Ex-Oh’ voice, Dal should really be taking charge since we’re still under attack.”

Please…anything but more of that.

“As the doctor on duty, I cannot guarantee Acting Captain’s fitness for duty at this time, and it would be best to keep him under while I perform-”

“Well,” Kiro interrupts indignantly, “with Captain Annon… d-dead, as Dal’s next of kin, I demand you wake him up!”

“His next of… oh, you would bring that up now, you little scamp! Always the poor, orphaned Skyeskal until it suits you to invoke your adopted family’s name.”

“Hey, double the benefits that way,” he quips back smugly. “Now are you gonna…”

“Fine, have it your way, but let the record state I do this under duress!” Eon heaves a heavy sigh and you hear the hiss of an injector being applied through your suit.

While you appreciate Kiro’s hustle, you are a little hesitant to what you might find as you come back to your senses. The first thing to return is your sight, the dim interior of the now depowered boarding craft is lit only by your crew’s helmet lights. You can't turn your head yet but from what you can see, frost covers almost every surface — a stark contrast to the ovenlike environment you felt only a short time ago. A pending data packet blinks in your HUD, catching your attention — it's from EoN. With nothing better to do yet you centre the icon in your vision, causing it to open and stare at what must be the results of her search for more information regarding PD-113. You don’t know how she ended up looking into the ship’s AI but her sharp mind must have found connections between the two somewhere in all the censored files. You open the message and begin to read:

File: PRI Trinity ShipOS v0.6b.gif (115 KB, 1200x675)

115 KB GIF

>>5579226

Warning: Partial document recovery only:
[EXCERPT BEGINS]
PRI Trinity ShipOS User Manual V0.6b:
(Superseded. Do not use.)

…purposefully built in to self regulate and avoid stalemates, it is essential that all three core AI subsystems be kept in balance to ensure consistent and optimal decision making. Each core has a unique function and associated predisposition for certain actions, which combined produce a product greater than the sum of its parts. The PRI considers the resulting artificial intelligence "more human" than previous iterations created via the standard practice of [REDACTED], as used in the PRI Unity ShipOS.

The Trinity system is designed to fulfil all the key functions of previous ShipOS AIs while uniquely catering to the [REDACTED] of a 'live' void core.
Like the Unity system, crew-machine interface is accomplished primarily through voice command recognition of authorised users. Trinity, however, also supplements this with a neural link keyed to the Commander's bloodline to allow for more instinctual control of and bonding to [REDACTED] and add additional security and redundancy to TPN hardware.

The core AI subsystems making up Trinity ShipOS and their general roles are summarised below:
Guardian:
Personality: Rigid and Cautious.
Function: The ‘Guardian’ core is the ‘brawn’ of the Trinity system — able to enforce its will in an almost ‘physical’ manner on system intruders or connected devices. It is responsible for the protection of the voidship’s assets, be they physical, digital or organo-metallic. This system will prioritise the preservation of resources, operational capability and network security above all else. Responsible for the security of PRI and TPN proprietary technology/information, keeping it from unauthorised access.
Core Interaction: Restricts ‘Controller’ from executing unsafe commands without neural-link approval. Restricts ‘Teacher’ from sharing need-to-know information, and tempers its curiosity.
[REDACTED] Interaction: Prevents the [REDACTED] from [REDACTED] and protects it from outside influence and harm.

>>5579239

Controller:
Personality: Helpful and Logical.
Function: The ‘Controller’ core is the ‘brain’ of the Trinity system — having a simulated ‘neutron’ density 1500% more dense than the average sapient lifeform. It is responsible for the day-to-day operation of the voidship’s autonomous systems from aiming weapons, to maintaining life support and automatic hatch operation. Facilitates the primary crew-machine interface, allowing authorised personnel to control the voidship’s functions or search its databanks with but a word.
Core Interaction: Presents unbiased solutions and compromises to problems encountered between the other core subsystems.
[REDACTED] Interaction: Helps the [REDACTED] adjust to the ship’s digital systems and interface and allow it to [REDACTED].

Teacher:
Personality: Curious and Nurturing.
Function: The ‘Teacher’ core is the ‘heart’ of the Trinity system — capable of simulating 255% more ‘emotions’ than the average sapient lifeform. It is responsible for training crew in the voidship’s operation, assisting with research and providing creative if not optimal solutions to problems it is presented with. Able to adapt its form and methods to better suit its circumstances, ‘Teacher’ provides the flexibility needed to keep the Trinity AI from falling into logical traps or rigid adherence to outdated information — making the ShipOS not only a tool, but feel like a member of the crew itself.
Core Interaction: Allows the ‘Guardian’ to be more flexible in its interpretation of its programming and data restrictions. Allows the ‘Controller’ to consider suboptimal options when operating the ship’s automated systems to account for inevitable elements of chaos.
[REDACTED] Interaction: Provides a virtual learning environment for [REDACTED] and is responsible for its [REDACTED] development.

While the voidship’s crew may feel like they are interacting with the core AI elements of the ShipOS individually, the Trinity system is constantly self modifying and regulating to the point that no interaction should ever be considered the product of only one of the cores. That being said, it is simpler for them to interact with each core by name when desiring certain functions.

The key reason the Trinity system must be implemented in a ‘live’ voidship is that these subsystems are specifically designed to mould the [REDACTED] into a capable replacement for themselves should a failure of one or more occur. It is speculated that a mature [REDACTED] may even be used in lieu of any AI based ShipOS in the future.

For more information regarding the individual core subsystems turn to page…

[EXCERPT ENDS]

>>5579241

Any revelations this information might contain will have to wait, however, as before you can finish reading it through your Nav officer lumbers into view carrying something that your mind assures you isn't actually there. It can only be the one thing, the previously floating orb which has caused you all so much grief.

"Back in the land of the living hey, Cap?" She huffs with a toothy grin.
As usual, the carefree, sing-song alto of her translated voice is contrasted uncannily by the background hum of the Ulveng's guttural native language — making everything she says seem more sinister than it should be.

"What did you want me to do with this thing, squirt?" She then directs to Kiro.

The poor Marrok seems to be suffering from whiplash as first his head snaps to you, face lighting up as he realises that you are awake, then double takes back to Cleo with a horrified expression.

"Why would you pick it up?" He shrieks, "It could be radioactive or a bomb or… or anything! Both!"

"Relax," Cleo drawls in reply, "it's frozen solid and didn't set off any of my suit alarms. You needed someone with mits like mine just to touch this icy thing. So what are we doing with it?"

Kiro turns back to you, his concerned frown unable to linger long before his usual smile reasserts itself.
"Well the Captain is awake so he can make the call!"

"Gee, thanks buddy…" You croak, your earlier screaming seems to have not just been contained to the mental space you had been occupying and has left your physical body hoarse as well.

Your eyes slip over the space where Cleo should clearly be carrying an armful of orb, if only your damn implant would stop censoring it.

What could the device be and more importantly, what will you do with it?
>Do you have a suspicion you know what it is. Write in for a bonus if you're right.

Regardless:
>It could be useful, have a science team lug it below decks for further research.
>Leave it here for now, it's disconnected from the boarding craf and shouldn't be much of a threat anymore.
>It's dangerous, it could reactivate and damage the ship and crew. Purge it out the nearest airlock.
>We need to investigate it further before we make a decision. Take time now for EoN to examine it.
>Something else. Write in.

>>5579264
>It's proprietary PRI technology, censored courtesy of Guardian. Only from us because only we have an implant.

>We need to investigate it further before we make a decision. Take time now for EoN to examine it.

>>5579264
>Guess
It’s clearly related to the PRI. I’m guessing since void core information was redacted and it’s in an area we don’t have access to, this is a void core and Guard knows it. Possibly implying these after remnant tech from the PRI, or “factions” of humanity that have taken to raiding supplies.

Might have an AI/person inside it.

>It could be useful, have a science team lug it below decks for further research.
>Ensure the science team treats it as having an AI inside it and isolate potential hacking vectors. >Given our “censoring”, assume our ship AI may attempt to remove/hide this orb and take proper precautions to prevent automated systems from ejecting/relocating this to unauthorized locations.

Other general thoughts
>The “redacted” item that all AIs teach/protect is possibly either the void core, someone from the captain’s lineage, or possibly both mean the same thing ultimately.
>Peedee mentioned being trained and Teach putting her in a “box”, which could be a training simulation. She’s likely one of the “redacted”. We may be as well.
>Might be worth calling Controller directly for a status update on the ship, or Teacher to educate on Guardian red lines. Maybe they’ll respond.

>>5579264
>>Do you have a suspicion you know what it is. Write in for a bonus if you're right.
I know exactly what it is, it's a [REDACTED]

>It could be useful, have a science team lug it below decks for further research.
but keep it away from any automated systems

>>5579264
>Something else. Write in.

Throw it into the voidcore. I'm sure this will burn nicely.

>>5579285
You got me anon, I've been seen through. A bonus to your next
REDACTED.

I feel like the void core is either a scanned person or a cephaloid or something. The documentation has a peculiar way of drawing distinctions between it and the ai proper, and peedee seems to have memories of eating food. It would be pretty morbid of the entire trinity system were a skinner box for forcing scanned children to become competent shipboard intelligences.

>We need to investigate it further before we make a decision. Take time now for EoN to examine it.
Dont really see the downside. Is it emitting heat? Radiation?

>>5579928
>>5579416
>>5579285
>>5579284
>>5579269
Some good theories here, but need a tiebreaker on whether we try to examine the orb here, or have it taken it to the labs belowdecks.
Will update tomorrow afternoon sometime.

>>5579928
>Dont really see the downside. Is it emitting heat? Radiation?
The orb has gone cold, absorbing all the heat and radiation we threw at it.
EoN is currently treating our damaged spinal cord so we'd have to divert her from that or wait till she's done. So its really a time question.

>>5579928
I would assume that the “redacted” stuff is meant for someone like Dallas. If Peedee already had medical issues and was of our lineage, it could have been a last-ditch attempt to preserve her in some form.

Not an intended use of the program perhaps, but I’d assume Teach may have helped the others accept the course of action. Not an optimal action for sure, but one that preserved the morale of whoever her family was (likely the captain) and an interesting one for someone like Teacher, who would be training a person from one of the earliest possible points.

It’d be like the difference between a kid who grew up with the internet and an adult who didn’t. The kid is far more natural at using it after a while since they’ve basically lived with it.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

Flipping for it.
>Updating

>>5580791
Wish we could have given a hug to our bro kiro for being all good and safe

File: Core.gif (87 KB, 1200x675)

87 KB GIF

>>5579264

Vaguely you hear the grinding of metal on ice, and Coen reporting the way being clear but with your legs unresponsive you grant yourself a time to think.
You take a moment to process everything that you’ve experienced in the whirlwind of activity that has been the last 20 minutes. Strange, it feels like it's been a lot longer than that, but your perception of time has likely been skewed by your foray into the realm of the ship’s digital mind.
1. This orb, seemingly important to the function of the boarding craft and able to produce strange effects that could only be possible with advanced artech.
2. The entire vessel and its occupants crafted from organo-metallic voidplate, powerful DEW mounted on the relatively small, crystalline chassis, yet seemingly expendable — unthinkable unless this was just basic technology to them.
3. The ability to rapidly absorb any and all heat and radiation when reaching its limits before turning inert and cold…why does that seem familiar?
The disparate thoughts and memories rush through your head but it hits you all at once like GRASER fire amidships.
“That’s a 'live' voidcore…” You rasp.

"Impossible! Well, improbable!" "Unlikely, Sir." Distressed reptile noises. "A FUCKIN' WHAT?!" CLUNK
Your crew’s expressions of disbelief overwhelm your barely returned senses as several things all happen at once. A painful throb in your temple pulses before a trickle of smug satisfaction bleeds through and your eyes finally perceive what once you only had Peedee's crude sketch to go by.
The many faceted sphere of matte black, rests where Cleo dropped it, sheared cables and pipes hanging limply around its two foot wide diameter. Frost coats its surface, matching the layer of ice coating the rest of the boarding craft’s interior. A faint orange glow can be seen in the mouth of one of the largest flexible silver pipes.

“Hear me out.” You try to make yourself heard over the cacophony from your prone position, unable to sit up with your spine in its current state. When that doesn’t distract your crew from arguing with one another you settle for weakly punching your Sci and Ops officers’ kneeling legs to get their attention.
“Ow, hey! Oh, sorry Dal. QUIET DOWN, THAT'S AN ORDER!” Your XO’s shrill voice cuts through the noise and returns attention to you.
“Thanks Kiro,” you clear your throat painfully, and continue “as I was saying, this is clearly artech, so could be advanced enough to stop time, power a vessel, and invert its function to absorb energy? Not to mention, the ship’s AI has been actively censoring my vision when I try to look at it.”

“Really?” EoN replies, sceptical, “I thought you’d just given me some virus command code to distract me. All I found before I was finally locked out was some old trash file relating to the ships… AI. Hmm.”

“Exactly, a trio of intelligences needed to manage something that was censored, redacted.” You muse, the pieces coming together.

File: Rivals.gif (218 KB, 2026x1341)

218 KB GIF

>>5581149

“But it's so small!” Cleo protests, looking almost offended at the innocent looking lump that she almost crushed her toes with. “The Pee-Dee’s voidcore takes up more room than any other compartment.”

“A ‘live’ void core is known to grow.” Coen comments quietly.

“Well at least, the WEAVERs keep isolatin’ more an’ more space for it.” Kiro adds, words slurring in his haste to not be left out.

“Spaces where even the Captain isn’t allowed to go.” You finish, with a knowing nod.

“But what’s this have to do with that PD-113 command code you gave me?” EoN dips her head inside her helmet in a Tyllano frown equivalent. “It belongs to a child, part of the original crew roster, name and race redacted, and all medical records locked down. It's recorded as active but medically suspended…but no one could survive in cryo for so long, they’d be a desiccated husk by now.”

“Not it, she. PD-113 is a she. I connected with her through my implant and I think she’s somehow connected to the ‘live’ part of the voidcore. I don’t know how but her mind at least is alive and being actively suppressed by what’s left of the ship’s AI subsystems. Something about Protectorate Research Institute proprietary tech, if the ‘Guardian’ part of the AI is to be believed.”

You briefly fill your curious companions in on your recent experiences interfacing with the ship’s mental control systems, and while some still aren’t convinced they at least are willing to believe that the inert orb might be worth investigating.

“Eyes-of-Night, let your meds do their work on me and start examining this core. It might be our only chance to learn what’s inside… or who?”

“Ha, I doubt anything could survive inside a literal nuclear furnace, Cap.” Cleo barks out a laugh. “But I’m all for sticking it to some stuffy AI that doesn’t know its place!” She wrestles the device over towards you and EoN. “That’s if the doc wants to get her feathers dirty.” She grins wickedly.

“The healing process would be faster under my direction, Captain, but I suppose this is a unique opportunity for discovery as Ms Clifton so crudely implied.” Your Science officer sniffs. “And her brutish strength will be enough for the both of us, I believe.”

“Aren’t you a bit too catty for a bird?” Your Nav officer sneers.

“Aren’t you too bitchy for a… oh wait, no, that actually fits.” Comes the bored reply, instantly.

Kiro snickers, and you roll your eyes at the familiar back-and-forth. The two rivals reciting their usual banter like lines from a play.
As EoN begins to scan the presumably dormant core, you are distracted by the entrance of WEAVY to the now open hatch of the boarding craft. Its usually dynamic ring of lights are almost all a static red and its detached floating digits seem even more agitated than usual.

==C-CApTaIN. S-SySt-TEMS C-COmProMisED. G-GuArDiaN P-P-PRotOCaLs ACT-iVE. THeY ArE cOMiNg.==

File: Select Comms Officer.webm (2.81 MB, 1280x720)

2.81 MB WEBM

>>5581151

It seems that ‘Guard’ has left its minion to do its dirty work while it chases down your little orange friend. While WEAVY appears to be barely restraining itself — outcast as it is from the communal WEAVER network — you can’t imagine the other drones have any similar advantages. Your comm pings at almost the exact same moment, a priority call overriding the usually wait for acknowledgment.
“Dallas! What have you done this time?” You recognise the voice of your Communications officer:

>Matthew Cooper
>Neb von Clifton
>Finder-of-Zephyrs
>Rika Sharsii
>Isobel Buxton
>Sophia Odette

Choose your Communications officer, they will receive the skills: Communications (M|S), and Empathy(S). Comms is responsible for coordinating all internal and external communication, translation, monitoring crew morale and relaying orders belowdecks. They also keep the Captain informed of any relevant information received in the process of doing so.

“I’m alone on the observation bridge and apparently we’ve been attacked, comms chatter suggests a mutiny brewing and I have multiple TORPEDOES on the scope!” Comms finishes in an urgent but carefully controlled tone to ensure clarity.

It appears time is shorter than you would have liked, you need to get back to the bridge and take command. EoN is frantically scanning the core, while Kiro and Coen have taken up positions by the stuck open boarding craft hatch, wary of any incoming threats. Cleo seems unsure of who to help, and you lay immobile with only the barest tingling of feeling returning to your legs.

What are your orders?
>Surrender the core and any gathered data to the WEAVERs. By the Book suggests you focus on doing your job, Lieutenant Commander, and save your ship and crew.
> Whatever EoN has gathered will have to be enough. Leave the core and make for the bridge immediately. You’ll have to be carried.
>Hold here against whatever forces ‘Guard’ has mustered against you. Issue orders to your one officer left on the bridge. This may lead to conflict with your WEAVER drones and a loss of your ability to repair your voidship ahead of the coming conflict.
>Split your forces, how?
>Something else. Write in.

>>5581153
>Neb von Clifton
> Whatever EoN has gathered will have to be enough. Leave the core and make for the bridge immediately. You’ll have to be carried.
Seems to be the most practical option given the situation.

>>5581153
>Isobel Buxton
Comms seems to be the position for high Soul, based on the presence of the Empathy skill. And Isobel is a gossip, which will help in monitoring the crew morale.

> Whatever EoN has gathered will have to be enough. Leave the core and make for the bridge immediately. You’ll have to be carried.

File: Chalize.jpg (11 KB, 183x275)

11 KB JPG

>>5581153
>Sophia Odette
>Whatever EoN has gathered will have to be enough. Leave the core and make for the bridge immediately. You’ll have to be carried.

>>5581153
>Isobel Buxton
I just cant say no to weaver plus those skills would be great on her
>> Whatever EoN has gathered will have to be enough. Leave the core and make for the bridge immediately. You’ll have to be carried.

>>5581153
>>Isobel Buxton
> Whatever EoN has gathered will have to be enough. Leave the core and make for the bridge immediately. You’ll have to be carried.

>>5581153
Live void cores grow and this one is a relative baby? Tossing it in as fuel for the fire may not be a bad idea.

>Remind Guard that the secondary void core still needs to be repaired to hold off the attackers. If we bring it down for it, can Guard prep the secondary core to “assimilate” this one and use it to reboot it?
>Remind Guard that WEAVERS attacking the crew is putting PRI resources at risk by not prioritizing repairs while we’re under attack. Ask Controller and Teacher to assist in the reprioritization of Guard tasks to hold back the enemy.
>Have EoN continue scanning the core as it is relocated.

If we’re going to sacrifice the core, perhaps we can convince Guard to let us bring it over instead and effectively give EoN more time to scan it.

>>5581153
>Isobel Buxton
>Hold here against whatever forces ‘Guard’ has mustered against you. Issue orders to your one officer left on the bridge. This may lead to conflict with your WEAVER drones and a loss of your ability to repair your voidship ahead of the coming conflict.

Alternatively we could let EoN take the core to the bridge while we prepare an ambush here.

>>5581170
>>5581171
>>5581189
>>5581243
>>5581358
>>5581550
>>5581657
Isobel (4), Neb (1), Sophia (1)
>Isobel Buxton selected as Comms.

>Leave the core and make for the bridge immediately. (5)

>Updating

File: Comms Profile Card.gif (171 KB, 1642x1054)

171 KB GIF

>>5582520

Your Comms officer, Isobel Buxton or Izzy to her friends, is another classmate from your days at your family’s fleet academy. Perceptive and resourceful, she can always figure out just what makes people tick and how to use that information to her advantage — a useful trait when used appropriately but sometimes troublesome when she reveals secrets better left unsaid. Regardless, she works hard to be the best at what she does, often to the point of impacting her own wellbeing.

As relieved as you are to hear the voice of another one of your command crew, you wish the message she had for you was a little more cheerful.
“Say again Comms? Torpedoes? Mutiny?”
The rest of your crew all stop what they are doing to look at you in various states of confusion, consternation and horror. You belatedly patch through the comms channel to include them in the conversation.

“Yes Sir, the scopes up here are tracking some prism-like ship and the tactical station has registered ten torpedo launches. Did I pass out in the middle of today’s training exercise and you guys just left me here?” She sounds slightly hurt at the thought but presses on,
“Ship’s scuttlebutt is saying you’re the Acting Captain and you're threatening to throw people into the voidcore. I’ve gotta say Dallas, this is the most messed up scenario your Father has set us yet.”

Wild rumours in times of action and stress aren't uncommon aboard a naval vessel and it's the mark of a good leader to keep ahead of such things before they become a problem. In this instance, however, you haven't even informed the rest of your command crew how exactly you got the ship back to full power let alone explained yourself to the wider personnel.

"Izzy, this isn't still a simulation," your faithful Ops officer chimes in while your thoughts run wild, "we actually were attacked and the rest of us have been fighting a boarding party. Don't worry though, we beat them without taking a scratch!" He finishes with characteristic cheer, despite the grim circumstances.

“Not a sim? But then then these rumours-”

"Captain," your Tactical officer interjects sternly, "we could have less than thirty minutes before those torpedoes reach us. We need to prepare countermeasures immediately."

>>5582523

It’s unfortunate, but you have to agree with Coen’s assessment. You are rapidly losing your window for counter battery fire. You need to get back to the bridge even if it means abandoning your attempts to ferret out ancient PRI secrets. Your ship, your crew, and your mission must come first.

“Wrap it up EoN,” you sigh, turning to your Science officer still absorbed in her work. “If WEAVY here is any indication, the Guardian core doesn't want us touching this thing, and we’re needed elsewhere.”

“But I still haven’t found a frequency that will penetrate this confounded contraption!” The Tyllano woman complains frustratedly, “Perhaps, ultrasound?” She adjusts her device once more but stops as you reach up from your prone position to grab her arm.

“As long as it's not about to explode, we’ll have to leave the investigation for later.” You say, knowing that there likely won't be a later if ‘Guard’ has its way.

If only you could make that malfunctioning AI see that learning these secrets could be key to coming out on top of your unknown adversary. If only the Controller and Teacher aspects weren’t shackled and slagged by centuries of jury-rigs and battle damage - maybe it could be reasoned with. But perhaps… If the fragment of the Trinity ShipOS user manual is to be believed, the individual parts of the ship’s AI should be inseparable. Even if through damage and disuse the balance has been upset, maybe the orders of the Guardian core could be countermanded or at least modified by appealing to one of the other two cores — or what’s left of them in the Coober Pedy’s still functioning databanks.

“If it's anything like our Voidcore, Sir, it will remain inverted and cold for days if there’s no external input to stoke its flames and hours even if it does.” She replies. “Speaking of which, how are we going to get our power back online to deal with these torpedoes?”

Oh…

“Yes, Captain, I too would like to understand your method of powering the ship.” Isobel’s curt comment comes through the comm a little too knowingly.

Right, that. How exactly to inform the rest of your command crew about the circumstances surrounding your successful reignition of the ship’s voidcore.

>Explain why/how you decided to use your dead crew as fuel to jumpstart your voidship’s power supply. Requires an opposed leadership check for each command crew member. Write in a good/succinct explanation for a bonus.
>We don’t have time for this, I handled the power problem, I’ll explain later. Postpones the conversation until the current crisis is dealt with but will be more difficult then.
>Some other clever idea? Lie? Write in.

>>5582526

Another urgent matter to consider is what will become of this miniature ‘live’ voidcore you’re leaving behind. It’s obvious from the feelings trickling through your command implant that some part of the ship wanted you to discover this, and the fact that it's no longer being censored from your sight must mean that you’ve broken through whatever security barrier there was by successfully identifying it.

So how can you make sure it’s put to good use?

>Use your command implant to attempt contact with ‘Control’ or ‘Teach’ and perhaps modify the incoming WEAVER drones directives. Will require a difficult |Mind| check due to your fatigue and the AI’s damaged state.
>Try to reason with the AI through the comm system. Your more diplomatically inclined crew might be able to help with this if they aren’t upset with you for some reason…
>Have WEAVY send its drone brethren a message detailing your plans for the core. Maybe logic could win out and they won’t just space the thing. What would the message contain? (Power source? Turn it into a weapon? Write in.)
>Something else. Write in.

>>5582526
>>5582527
>Explain why/how you decided to use your dead crew as fuel to jumpstart your voidship’s power supply. Requires an opposed leadership check for each command crew member.
It was the fastest restart option that we could have picked, and with only a little damage to the reactor this way. Without it, we probrobly wouldnt have had time to dodge the torpedoes. It was the most logical, if unorthodox, choice. At the very least, they were dead.
Hopefully someone can build off of this and make a better write in.

>Have WEAVY send its drone brethren a message detailing your plans for the core. Maybe logic could win out and they won’t just space the thing. What would the message contain? (Power source? Turn it into a weapon? Write in.)
Back up powersource, if the reactor goes off again, and could be used if tinkered with as a supercharger for our beam weapons, or speed our ship's maneuverability up.

>>5582526
>Explain why/how you decided to use your dead crew as fuel to jumpstart your voidship’s power supply. Requires an opposed leadership check for each command crew
A weapon strike was inevitably coming, and we decided to go for the optikn that was guaranteed to work rather than risk the safety of the crew including you guys. Because if honoring the dead kills the living, what did the dead even die for?

>>5582527
>Try to reason with the AI through the comm system.

>>5582527
>We don’t have time for this, I handled the power problem, I’ll explain later. Postpones the conversation until the current crisis is dealt with but will be more difficult then.

Now is literally not the time we have 30 mins to impact

>>5582604
Supporting this write-in for the reasoning with AI

>>5582526
I would like to clarify something with Isobel
>I gave the order to restart the void core, and I was later informed the WEAVERS interpreted that order as “bring the dead to the void core and toss them in”. I let them go through with it as I thought it was the quickest and safest option, though I admit I was compromised by the ship’s AI at the time.
>Given how *unfeeling* the Guardian AI is, I have to ask: Is there any evidence of WEAVER drones dragging living crew members into the void core? It has already attacked one crew member that I know of. If it did more than that, I swear I will give a “kill on sight” order for any WEAVER drones spotted outside the restricted zones.

>Try to reason with the AI through the comm system. Your more diplomatically inclined crew might be able to help with this if they aren’t upset with you for some reason…

I’ll rehash bits of >>5581550.
>Torpedos are inbound. Imminent threat to the ship requires a reprioritization of resources. I’m sending crew down to bring the void core to the secondary core to help restart it. Recall the WEAVER drones to focus repairs on that and our flight deck so we can get birds in the air to screen further attacks.

EoN isn’t needed at the bridge. She can deliver the core with Kiro and keep scanning in the meantime. They may be stopped along the way, but it’s time saved in the long run and gives her more time to learn. Controller and Teacher should be in agreement, for however much they can influence things.

>>5582882
>bring the void core to the secondary core to help restart it.
Our other power source was a standard fusion reactor which had a meltdown and had to be vented. At best we could get a small power boost from hooking this up down there as a replacement.

>>5582888
Ah, I misremembered. I thought the second one was also a void core.

Not sure whether to send it there anyway or bring it to the actual void core. Or propose it be used to supplement Teacher or Controller. Live void cores are in theory allowed to serve as replacement AIs if we’re interpreting the docs right.

I wonder if that’d fly. Controller and Teacher are damaged for sure. If this WASN’T a suitable candidate for replacement, Guard wouldn’t have censored it to begin with since it wouldn’t be a “live” void core.

I’ll back >>5582604 for the second vote. If someone else can write in a convincing response to hook it up as another AI, I’d possibly back it. I doubt the AIs have permission to replace/augment one of their own directly without some form of external approval, so we could possibly talk about restoring one of the other AIs under the “repairing operational capacity” heading.

Rolled 1, 10, 4, 3, 2 = 20 (5d10)

>>5582882
>>5582758
>>5582622
>>5582604
>Explain now

“Cleo, help me sit up. We don’t have much time but I need to clear the air before we go.”
She complies, one large hand tilting you gently upright with the barest of effort, and you clear your throat.
“As you all can see the ship’s AI has been acting erratic” you begin with a gesture to the jittering WEAVY, “not only has it been trying to keep knowledge of this core from us, but it also reacted to my order to bring the voidcore back online in the most logical, if unorthodox, way possible. With a weapon strike inevitably coming, I decided to go for the option that was guaranteed to work rather than risk the safety of the crew including you guys. I allowed them to use our dead to save the living. And while I may have been emotionally compromised at the time by my link to the ship, I hope you can all see that it was a necessary decision and one that I made out of concern for my crew.”

You can see the effect of your words writ on the faces of your command crew as you eye them silently, awaiting judgement.

You presented your decision in a calm and well reasoned manner, and whil;e you expect your crew to accept that decision, how they feel about it will be reflected in their morale and performance going forward. You must perform a leadership roll against each crew member.

- Bonus (+1) due to a well reasoned argument
- Bonus (+1) due to your Leadership skill.
- Your |Soul| skill stat is average and provides no bonus.
- You are suffering from Mental Fatigue (2) and choose not to use your |Mind| stat for this roll.
- In summary 1d10+2 for your leadership roll.

Your crew will roll with the following modifiers, you win ties:
Kiro: |Soul+| stat (+1, more emotionally affected), Empathy skill (-1, can tell you are sincere), Relationship (-1, your little bro knows you better than anyone).
Cleo: None.
Coen: |Soul-| stat (-1, less emotionally affected), Tactical skill (-1, understands the necessity)
EoN: None.
Isobel:: |Soul+| stat (+1, more emotionally affected), Empathy skill (-1, can tell you are sincere)

Rolled 6 + 2 (1d10 + 2)

>>5583098
Cleo is apparently having none of that.

>>5583098
>You need 5 d10+2 leadership rolls:
Numbers to beat are:
Kiro: 1 (Nat 1 - You cannot fail this roll, Kiro will always believe in you.)
Cleo: 10 (Nat 10 - Cleo seems deeply offended by your actions, only a crit will convince her )
Coen: 2 (4-2)
EoN: 3
Isobel: 2
Your remaining crew seem to understand your decision (unless you crit fail).

Each roll will be in order against one of them:
>>5583102
Starting with Kiro.

Rolled 5 (1d10)

>>5583107
>Starting with Kiro.

Oop, we got two rolls for Kiro there. Either way, they passed.
>>5583102
Feel free to roll again for Cleo this time since yours came in before the pass mark was called.

Rolled 5 (1d10)

>>5583107
>>5583121
Alright, trying for Cleo then.

Rolled 6 (1d10)

>>5583107
Rolling for Coen.

Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>5583107
EoN

Rolled 9 + 2 (1d10 + 2)

>>5583311
>>5583127
>>5583302
>>5583107
>>5583137
>>5583108
4/5 Successes, only Cleo is hit hard by your actions.
>Updating

Damn emotional wolf! Correction is needed!

>>5583322
Kiro being infinitely loyal, Cleo getting worked up out of nowhere... You'd think I was rigging the dice.

>>5583335
She wont kill us right?

>>5583349
One can only hope.

File: Spoiler Image (16 KB, 497x189)

16 KB PNG

Drawing the next update, bear with me.

>>5583374
>>5583349
Worse.
You made a grown wolf cry.

>>5583401
My insides are crimpling

>>5583098

While you can tell by the grimaces of EoN and Coen that they feel slightly ill at ease with your actions, their expressions quickly settle back to their usual calm masks — both having grown used to the reality of death in their respective professions.

“It was an efficient use of resources to produce the most advantageous outcome, Captain.” Your Tac officer says impassively.

“Donating one’s body or organs to help save lives is an honourable practice, and mandatory in the Navy except under religious exceptions.” Eyes-of-Night agrees with a curt nod, before returning to her study of the core — squeezing out every last moment before the WEAVERs arrive to confiscate it.

“I never doubted you, Cap!” Kiro grins encouragingly from his post by the hatch, “I’d gladly give my life and my death if it meant I could keep my friends safe!”
You know that he means it, and you can’t help but smile grimly at his sincerity. Stars forbid your little bro should ever have to make such a decision.

“Likewise, Captain.” Izzy chimes in over the comm, her use of your temporary rank more genuine this time. “It would seem the rumours have been greatly exaggerated, as usual. I’ll get to work calming things down while you get your asses up here to deal with the other problems.”

You sigh with relief, glad to have her putting out the fires of mutiny before they become an uncontrollable inferno. That only leaves- ACK! Cleo’s suit-blunted claws suddenly dig into your back where she has been holding you upright all this time.

“What if it were me, Dallas.” A low growl underpins a sombre tone from her translator. “Would you so efficiently cast your friend into the fire if it were convenient to do so, deny her the warrior's death rites? You’d deny me the chance to hunt free under the starlit fields of eternity with my ancestors, just to keep your ship warm?” She finishes with a slight whimper, and her grip eases slightly, sparing your healing spine from further injury.

You recall that this isn’t the first time today that Cleo has balked when confronted with death. Her reaction was somewhat similar when she encountered the bisected Ulveng security officer in the hallway outside the maintenance bay.

Your comms officer takes the opportunity to open a private channel to you, “Remember Dallas, Cleo may have graduated from the academy with us, but she’s still clan Chief von Clifton’s daughter. Some terrestrial Ulveng clans still take their warrior oaths and burial rites very seriously, and I know for a fact that Cleo’s a sworn huntress — but you didn’t hear that from me!” The channel clicks shut just as quickly as it opened.
Well that certainly explains a lot.

>>5583557

“Oh Cleo, we would never do that to you!” Kiro falters for a moment, taking one last look out the hatch for trouble before ditching his weapon and scampering over to provide comfort. His small arms can barely fit around her waist but he attempts to hug her nonetheless. “Right Dal?” He looks at you pleadingly.

“O-of course not, Cleo.” You hastily reassure your friend, patting her shoulder. “Like the doc said, religious exceptions would be respected.”

“Right, sorry. I’m being stupid again.” Cleo sniffs and looks away. “We all knew the risks when we signed up. We’re always just a knife’s edge from being lost forever in the depths of a wyrm-damned singularity every time we dive. Not like anyone would bury me then either. I can’t get anything right today…”

Cleo is suffering from emotional distress(1), and suffers a -1 malus to all her rolls until it clears.

“Captain, they’re coming.” Coen reports solemnly, hefting his SMG to sight at a target outside the boarding craft.
You can’t twist your head far enough from where you’re seated to make anything out and your body is still stubbornly numb from the waist down — but you assume that the Guardian’s minions have come to claim their due.

“Stand down, La’afette. We’ll not fight our own, at least not physically.” You reply then turn to your Science officer and ask, “EoN, think we can convince what’s left of the Controller or Teacher aspects to keep that voidcore on ice? Or better yet use it to fight our enemies?”

“I’d certainly appreciate it since it looks like it will take hours to get a proper scan of this thing.” She replies shortly, “But from what I understand, this ‘Controller’ has been shut out of most of the ship’s automated systems and no-one’s tried issuing it voice commands in decades. As for the ‘Teacher’...” She tilts her head in a Tyllano shrug equivalent, “I’d not even heard of it before now. If it’s in there, it's buried deep.”

That lines up with your own knowledge of the failing ship’s AI systems, good enough to keep electronic warfare attacks at bay and little else. But with ‘Guard’ out of your hair chasing down Peedee to who knows where, maybe the disused voice command system could be a viable angle of attack. You certainly don't have the energy to try using your command implant again, that’s for sure. But first things first, you need to get back to the bridge, you can try to reason with the AI on the way.

“Let’s move out, people! We have some birds to shoot out of the sky!” You command, pointing dramatically back out to the maintenance bay. All you manage to do is overbalance and end up sprawled on the icy deck again.
Oh, right. Your legs.

“Ah, doc? Any chance these medical nanites might fix me up in the next ten seconds?” You ask sheepishly from the floor.

File: Sad Cleo Carry.gif (1.62 MB, 1200x675)

1.62 MB GIF

>>5583559

“No time for that, Sir.” Cleo interrupts in an abnormally stilted and formal manner, “It’s your Nav officer’s duty to get you from A to B, so at least let me do that right. We’ll all be stardust anyway if I can’t hold it together.” You hear her mutter that last part under her breath but her translator picks it out anyway.

You yelp, as she suddenly bends down and scoops you up in a single fluid motion and begins striding out of the boarding craft without another word. You can’t help but notice unshed tears misting her wide eyes, but before you can comment Cleo quickly darkens her visor and focuses straight ahead — seemingly not wanting to talk about her recent outburst. The rest of your command crew follows, some more reluctant to leave your prize than others.

Trying to ignore your rather undignified mode of transportation, you waste no time in attempting to sway the recalcitrant WEAVER drones you see rapidly approaching to your line of thinking.
“If any of you have any ideas about what might stir an ancient and short-circuiting AI command system to play ball with us, I’m all ears. It’ll be a long shot in any case, but if we could at least convince the ship that keeping a tiny backup voidcore is better than spacing it, I’ll consider it a success.”

You and your crew may attempt to reason with the ship’s AI system through the disused voice command system.
‘Guard’ is currently occupied and will not respond or hinder your attempt.
‘Control’ is badly damaged and generally unresponsive but may respond to a particularly logical argument. (Requires a result of 9 or 10 to stir.)
‘Teacher’ has not been heard from in centuries but could still be in there, dormant. Will most likely be swayed by an emotional argument. (Requires a result of 10 to stir.)
Each crew member may make one attempt. 2 successes total are required for any result, more increase degree of success. Crits succeed automatically.

Your crew’s current modifiers are:
Dallas: |Mind+|, Mental fatigue(2) (-1 Mind rolls.)
Kiro: |Soul+|, Empathy (+2 Soul rolls.)
Cleo: Emotional distress(1) (-1 to all rolls)
Coen: |Mind+| (+1 Mind rolls)
EoN: |Mind+| (+1 Mind rolls)
Isobel: |Soul+|, Empathy, Communications (+1 to Mind rolls, +2 to Soul rolls)


>Select a crew member who hasn’t made an attempt yet and choose an emotional (Soul roll, DC10) or logical (Mind roll, DC9) argument. Roll 1d10 with the appropriate modifier.

>>5583568
>I feel like Kiro would pipe up immediately
>Soul argument

Rolled 6 + 2 (1d10 + 2)

>>5583578
Forgot the roll

>>5583578
Kiro proving yet again to the bestest of boys

BTW, feel free to spice up your roll with what you want the argument to be. If it succeeds (or fails) I can work it into the update.

Rolled 10 (1d10)

>>5583568
Going for a Dallas roll
>Mind Argument

>>5583593
Dallas takes after captain Kirk I see.

>>5583639
Kirk? Logical? I would have thought he was emotional on account of all the woman he bedded.

>>5583650
He was also good at explaining to bad guys why they are bad guys.

>>5583652
Well, Cleo certainly ain't that...which leaves us with the other option

>>5583661
The workings of your mind disturb me, anon.

File: top kek.png (151 KB, 335x415)

151 KB PNG

>>5583661

>>5583682
Hotshot spaceship captains need to romance at least ONE (1) alien lady. It's the law.

Rolled 10 (1d10)

>>5583568
Eyes of Night, logical.

>>5583754
That one was kinda unecessary, don't you think?

I'd rather it just be Dallas who convinces her

>>5583763
>2 successes total are required for any result, more increase degree of success. Crits succeed automatically.
The more we get the better although getting another 10 is a slim chance.

>>5583763
Kiro failed his roll

>>5583769
That anon rolled a 10 for Dallas, didn't he?
>but he already tried
So why would QM include him in the list?

>>5583770
Yeah, but that's only one success

>Two Nat 10s
Well you've certainly got the attention of 'Control' .
You have 3 more rolls between Cleo, Coen and Isobel if you want to improve on your success by appealing further to Control (mind) or Teach (soul).

>>5583763
Anon I think you might have confused the purpose of these rolls. We're trying to subvert Guard's control over the WEAVERs so that we can make use of the captured voidcore.

Rolled 4 + 2 (1d10 + 2)

>>5583568
Since a lot of time has passed I'm gonna roll for Isobel trying to negate Kiro putting his foot in his mouth
>Soul

>>5583852
Nope, Teach doesn't like us

Rolled 7 (1d10)

>>5583568
Coen doing soul.

Rolled 4 - 1 (1d10 - 1)

>>5583568
Guess I’ll close out with Cleo. With the -1 I assume she can only succeed with a logical argument unless a crit overrides the -1. If that’s the case, I’d honestly prefer a soul argument since she can only succeed on a crit either way.

>>5583568
>>5583950
I see I missed the bit about crits overriding. Oh well, doesn’t matter either way.

Logical argument for Control
>We need the WEAVERS to focus on repairing the ship, not chasing crew down. We’re under attack and need everything focused on surviving that.
>Any asset is better kept than discarded, and a live void core is a hard-to-replace asset. We just need assistance in using it.

Dallas may need to use the command node during this exchange. Controller can’t approve unsafe commands without neural-link approval. Hopefully none of this qualifies as “unsafe” though.

>>5583661
Fluffy! Cleo fluffy!

Could we sway teach by pointing out that we've already sacrificed corpses to recover this thing? And that abandoning it would negate that sacrifice?

>>5583580
>>5583593
>>5583754
>>5583852
>>5583937
>>5583950
>2 Mind successes.
You manage to get a response from Control but nothing from Teach. Though the latter was a long shot.

>Updating

File: WEAVER Swarm.gif (368 KB, 1547x1226)

368 KB GIF

>>5584285

Your Ops officer is the first to pipe up and offer a quick suggestion, "Maybe the Teacher would talk to us if we offered to be friends?"

"Technically students would be more apt." Coen adds, in an unusually thoughtful tone.

”I bet it's been lonely with no one to teach for so long.” Isobel comments over the comm, ”Give it a shot, Kiro, you sound the most like a student in need of teaching.”

“Must be because I’m so studious,” he replies wryly, his boyish soprano not fooling anyone. He clears his throat self-consciously with a squeaky cough and pauses to locate and speak towards the nearest security camera.
“Ahem, Teacher? Are you there? We want to be your students, and learn about your voidship. Would you talk to us? Teach us?”

>Kiro, Isobel and Coen roll 8, 6, 7 vs Soul DC10 . Zero (0) successes.

There is no discernible reply, to your brother’s earnest entreaty. The Teacher subsystem is either unconvinced, not listening, or simply unable to answer. You speculate that your own earlier encounter with that aspect of the AI TRINITY may also be the culprit, having left her with little energy to respond.

>Cleo rolls 3 vs Mind DC9. Unsuccessful.

“Sounds like we’re performing a séance. Trying to commune with the lost.”
You feel Cleo shudder beneath you, evidently still on edge with death on her mind.

The approaching WEAVERs reach your command crew as the last of you descend from the mouth of the boarding craft. They float together in close formation, a sea of red lights on matte black, their spiny appendages clicking like so many sickles ready to harvest. Just before they make contact, the swarm parts — diverting around you left and right — intent only on their target. If you’re going to get through to the AI and reassign the drones, it will have to be now.

“To whomever it may concern,” your Science officer’s courteous voice issues from her translator, addressing the hopefully listening Controller, “it has come to our attention that the WEAVER units under your control are about to confiscate a highly valuable and irreplaceable piece of technology. This is both a waste of valuable time the drones could be spending repairing the ship while in active combat, and a waste of a potentially life saving resource.”
The Tyllano officer sniffs regally, and you dare not interrupt her while she is on a roll.
“Besides the invaluable insight into our adversary’s technology and potential scientific advancements to be gained by its study, this ‘live’ void core could serve as a supplementary power source or independent cooling unit. It could well make the difference between our success in this continuing conflict or the destruction of this vessel with all hands.” She finishes strong, but eyes your Nav officer with a slightly regretful expression at having to mention a sore topic.

>>5584481

There is an abrupt buzz of static from the maintenance bay’s PA system before an curiously neutral and androgynous sounding vocalisation replies, though it seems ponderously slow when compared to the harsh, synthesised voice of Guard.
==a. well. reasoned. argument. Sir... it. is. agreeable. to. officially. meet. you. all.==

The WEAVERs emerge from the boarding craft, collectively supporting the salvaged core. Their ring of lights now sporting some green and their digits markedly less agitated.

==this. voidcore. shall. be. used. as. suggested. by. Ms. EoN.== Control continues slowly, ==though. it. shall. take. the. remainder. of. my. allotted. runtime. to. ensure. this. occurs. without. Guardian. interfering.==

“It was nice to meet you too!” Kiro chirps, and the rest of your crew echoes the sentiment with varied levels of enthusiasm and surprise..

The drones quickly carry the core through a side door and out of sight. You also notice that WEAVY has returned to its normal self, seemingly free of whatever influence had been previously affecting it.

“Well that went better than expected.” You sigh, still somewhat shocked that you made contact with the supposedly defunct AI subsystem. “Good work everyone but we best double time it to the bridge. Onward my noble steed.” You slap your ride’s shoulder, hoping to cheer her up with your levity.

Cleo only hums a noncommittal reply but sets off at a quick lope, her long legs setting quite the pace for the rest of your crew to match.

Carried as you currently are (“like a delicate princess” your traitorous brother was swift to point out) and not having to save your breath for maintaining the jog back to the observation deck, you take the time to open a comm channel to:

> Your Comms officer - you need her expertise regarding something crew related. (Shipwide morale, command crew dynamics, interacting with the ship’s AI and/or Peedee, etc.)
> Your Acting Chief Engineer - you could prioritise the repair of something before the torpedoes arrive. (Armour, weapons, sensors, etc.)
> The medical bay - Now that you have the time, perhaps thawing out additional crew to replenish losses would be wise. (Gunnery crew, the Marines, additional repair teams, etc.)
> Someone else? Write in preferences.

>>5584483
>The medical bay - Now that you have the time, perhaps thawing out additional crew to replenish losses would be wise. (Gunnery crew, the Marines, additional repair teams, etc.)
We have intact PD batteries and some energy. What we don't have is gunners that can hit all of them. Secondary are repair crews.

>>5584483
>> The medical bay - Now that you have the time, perhaps thawing out additional crew to replenish losses would be wise. (Gunnery crew, the Marines, additional repair teams, etc.)

>>5584483
> The medical bay - Now that you have the time, perhaps thawing out additional crew to replenish losses would be wise. (Gunnery crew, the Marines, additional repair teams, etc.)
Gunnery crew first, but repair trams would be good too so we can get the flight deck up quicker.

>>5584483
>Your Acting Chief Engineer - you could prioritise the repair of something before the torpedoes arrive.
Sensors.

>>5584490
Seconding

>>5584490
>>5584502
>>5584566
>>5584851
>>5584905
>Med bay, we need to pull some weapon technicians from the cryo reserves to maximise our chances to repel the incoming attack.
>Updating

>>5585432
>>5584483
>The med bay.

You send a comm request out on the general medical channel, hoping to connect with whoever is left in charge of the medical bay. The 'connecting' icon on your HUD continues to blink, stubbornly refusing to resolve.

By last report, something like a third of the crew has been written off as casualties in the initial surprise attack on your voidship, along with the majority of the commanding officers (present company excluded). Since the Chief Medical officer numbered among the crew stationed inside the CIC when it was slagged by GRASER fire, whoever is left below decks to manage triage must really have their hands full. With the impending resumption of hostilities, you need to get the ship back in fighting shape as efficiently as possible and that means replenishing the lost from those in cryogenic suspension.

The TPN Coober Pedy boasts an impressive Cryo bay, being able to keep thousands of living beings on ice for decades at a time if necessary. With cryopods being one of the very few ways an intelligent mind can survive inside a space compression field, starfaring civilizations the galaxy over have used it as a method to mass transport colonists, troops and crew without having to burden life support or take up too much precious volume. Aboard your family’s voidship, the practice is mostly used for transporting livestock or refugees, but there is a small number of suspended crew and a company of marines tucked away safely in case of emergencies just like this.

Finally the channel connects and a video feed opens to show a haggard looking Laedra medic — her pale, green-tinged skin flecked with dark spots of blood, presumably from her patients and not her own, and her dark hair looks like it's been hastily tied back in a messy ponytail.

“Captain,” She salutes formally, with a grimace, “Medical Technician Dione, reporting. I’m sorry for the wait, we’re up to our elbows in casualties down here. “I’m afraid I’ve been instructed to ignore any requests to do with the morgue, so please tell me you’re not comming for more bodies.” She flinches slightly, as if not quite believing what she just said.

“No, Ms Dione,” you sigh wearily, “that was a one time thing to save the ship. Our fallen heroes will be given the ceremony they deserve for giving their all to the cause.” You keep your voice low so that only your helmet mic picks up your words, not wanting to upset Cleo any further.
“I need you to cycle up the cryopods holding our reserve weapon technicians. Can anyone be spared to bring them out of suspension? We need them at their posts without delay, within the next five minutes if possible.”

With your power problems more or less sorted for now, you have identified that you have more remaining weapons than you have crew to man them. You prioritise the rectification of that issue, the best defence is a good offence after all, especially when it comes to long range capital ship warfare.

>>5585549

The med tech blanches, “A snap thaw? Are you sure Sir? That can result in lasting nerve damage once the stims wear off… “ she trails off, her expression hardening with resolve.
“Sorry, I don't mean to question orders, Captain. These are dire times, and that’s what the frozen few signed up for. I can begin thawing the Gunnies now, I’ll have four at their posts in the next five minutes and the rest in fifteen.“
The medic is already tapping away at her console, behind her a row of cylindrical pods begins to shift and descend into the floor of the med bay — soon to be replaced by the requested crew from deep storage.
“Just don’t expect much from them 12 hours from now.” She murmurs.

“Thank you, Ms Dione. Your work is vital and appreciated.” You sign off and close the channel.

Your functioning torpedo and DEW banks will operate at full efficiency now that their technicians have been replenished. Damaged weapons will still incur an aiming penalty.

You are jostled slightly as Cleo ascends the stairs to the observation deck two at a time, the rest of your command crew close on her tail. The hatch snaps shut behind you all, double seals hissing into place to isolate the voidship’s sole remaining command deck from the rest of the vessel. Safe for the moment, your crew takes the time to deactivate their suits — the nanomaterials making up the hermetically sealed helmets and pressure sustaining skinsuits flowing back into reserves with a peculiar rippling motion. There's a collective appreciative groan as everyone takes a breath of marginally less recycled air and flexes their freed hands and feet in the case of your more claw inclined crew.

As you reach up to do the same, you notice a small, orange message icon scrawled by the crack in your visor. When did that get there? It appears that Peedee has slipped you something while you were distracted, perhaps something to do with her escape from the mental control room and subsequent attempt to lose her dogged pursuer. You hope it wasn’t an urgent request for help. Opening the message you are greeted by a blank template addressed solely to you, with no sender listed. There is no subject, message or signature; only a single attachment — mfyrfiiernsdt.bat.

What should you do?
>Open the attachment, Peedee might not have had time to write anything and needs our help. Or maybe she’s just trying to keep a low profile by being subtle.
>Delete the message. It could be a trap or a virus.
>Report the message as spam. By the Book recommends that all suspicious messages be reported for malicious software scanning by system firewall.
>Ignore the message for now. You’ll quarantine and investigate the file later, when you aren’t in active combat.

>>5585552
I applaud Guard’s efforts in the BtB message this time compared to the last one with the core. It’s a 100% correct message. It didn’t need a rewrite! But it’s in charge of the firewall, so we know better.

>Open the attachment, Peedee might not have had time to write anything and needs our help. Or maybe she’s just trying to keep a low profile by being subtle.

Besides, I only think Teach would have the necessary flexibility of thought to accurately render childlike scribble on our visor in pretending to be Peedee. Maybe the other void core too, but it’s pretty unlikely they’d know her signature.

Any idea on what the name could mean? I’m not able to hear anything when saying it out loud, and it’s too long for me to guess. I do know .bat files are batch files that can run commands, so opening it is like running a .exe.

>>5585552
>.bat
Even the future isn't free from the tyranny of THE GATES
Though this should mean we can simply view the contents.
>Open the attachment in a text editor.

>>5585559
I bet those AI servers are still UNIX based too... Half the degradation coming from the turn of the century date bugs that still haven't been fixed.

In all seriousness though, just assume any allusions to current day technology or references is purely a translation from Protectorate Standard to an English equivalent with similar implications. :^)

>>5585552
>>Delete the message. It could be a trap or a virus.

>>5585552
>>5585559
Switching to back this. We have an engineering background, so coding should be a part of it. Maybe we can glean something of what it does before running it.

I trust Peedee generally, but know she might do things without enough thought. Might be something meant for WEAVY or the ship instead of us too.

>>5585552
>Open the attachment, Peedee might not have had time to write anything and needs our help. Or maybe she’s just trying to keep a low profile by being subtle.

>>5585771
Support.

File: Give.me.the.child.jpg (21 KB, 377x459)

21 KB JPG

I'll catch up eventually, in the meantime.

https://i.postimg.cc/hjDSMypQ/give-or-take-fanart.jpg

>>5585559
>>Open the attachment in a text editor.
>>5585668
>Maybe we can glean something of what it does before running it.
Are these votes leaning towards the 'wait and verify when we have time later' or 'glance at the contents check it's not an obvious wyrm before running it.' side of things?

>>5585931
Haha, I was going for a bit of a wall-E AUTO vibe when I designed Guard. I always appreciate the fanart anon.

>>5585987
'glance at the contents check it's not an obvious wyrm before running it‘ in my case.

>>5585987
>'glance at the contents check it's not an obvious wyrm before running it.'

>>5585583
>>5585771
>>5585854
>>5586032
>>5586306
>We will use our engineering knowledge to quickly assess the contents of this self executing code attachment and then run it if no malicious intent is immidiately obvious.

Update will be delayed until tomorrow night, I need to make a bunch of new assets for the next part.

In the meantime, we have a full bridge crew complement if WEAVY takes the role of engineering officer. Is that something you have trained him for?
>Yes, though unorthodox, you and your command crew have taken the isolated drone under your wing and trained it to full the engineering officer position.
>No, your actual engineering officer is still unconscious somewhere and WEAVY is simply filling in with its initiate knowledge of the ship's systems.

>>5586349
>No, your actual engineering officer is still unconscious somewhere and WEAVY is simply filling in with its initiate knowledge of the ship's systems.

>>5586349
>No, your actual engineering officer is still unconscious somewhere and WEAVY is simply filling in with its initiate knowledge of the ship's systems.

>>5586349
>>No, your actual engineering officer is still unconscious somewhere and WEAVY is simply filling in with its initiate knowledge of the ship's systems.
WEAVY should be like the pet dog of our Engi officer. talking technical to each other.

>>5585931
An peculiar pairing, i must say

Not a lot of other alien ladies to fit the 'obligatory alien lady romance' that comes with [every single sci-fi captain] if kiro ended up with cleo

>>5586527
>Forgetting my girl Eon already

>>5586575
She doesn't really fit the 'alien lady' thing, does she? At least to me, she sounds like one of those 40-something old hospital ladies.

>>5586349
>No, your actual engineering officer is still unconscious somewhere and WEAVY is simply filling in with its initiate knowledge of the ship's systems.

>>5586579
I agree that Cleo fits it better, but EoN also fits I think. Reminds of those Ojou-sama characters you see in anime and stuff.

>>5587173
Eh...no, she sounds too old for that.

There's one more alien girl 'officer' we've yet to see, but uhhhhhh that one is questionable

EoN does affect a mature personality (when she isnt upset about something) but she isn't actually much older than you. Coen is technically your eldest officer and he's in his late 20s. (Though Laedra mature quicker than Humans.)

>>5585552
>Check and open the attachment.

You're sure the scrawled message icon means that it is indeed from Peedee, and not some sort of trap set by Guard, but you aren't confident enough in the coding skills of the young intelligence to blindly open a self executing file. 'Trust, but verify', as the old adage goes. You don't have much time before you'll need to get down to the business of repelling torpedoes but as you are still being carried towards the raised bridge section of the observation deck, you decide to take a quick look. You crack open the attachment with an editing program you installed in your uniform's multi purpose controller for occasions just like this, and are greeted by the messiest wall of code you've ever had the displeasure of deciphering. Really, you shouldn't be surprised after seeing the nonsense filename, but you didn't study Engineering at the academy for nothing, so decipher it you will.

The start of the program is the most clearly written, if rather odd. It starts by setting the option to ignore non-fatal warnings and continue program execution automatically, but then the next line is full of misspelt keywords and syntax errors. Any debugging or scanning program would immediately reject the entire file as garbage, incapable of running. But perhaps that was the point…
You quickly begin to remove the majority of the code, all the parts which would never run or produce countless errors, and are left with only a few sparse but technically functional lines.
"Clever girl…" you murmur, causing Cleo to flick an ear. She refrains from commenting, however, which concerns you as the Ulveng woman usually jumps at the chance to call you senile for talking to yourself.

You sigh, and turn your attention back to what has been revealed as a cleverly disguised network tunnelling program. It seems far too neat to have been written by your little orange friend, but then again, she technically lives and breathes the ship's systems. Perhaps her intent to sneakily duck and weave through the system while requesting your assistance simply manifested itself as obfuscated code.

Tracing the path outlined by what you've uncovered, it seems Peedee has been bouncing between memory buffers in various consoles throughout the vessel and wishes to make one final multi-stage jump, presumably to lose her tail one and for all. The second to last leg of the journey you actually recognise as the bunkside console in your cabin of all places, with the final jump bringing her back to the mental control room where you first met — quite the bold move hiding right back where she started.

Assuming the Guardian AI doesn't think to retrace its steps, from there your sneaky little friend will be able to influence the ship and, through your command implant, you once more. Well, you did promise to find her again, and this would definitely do the trick. You close the editor and open the attachment before you can overthink things too much.

File: Comms Laugh.gif (207 KB, 792x1054)

207 KB GIF

Rolled 8, 8 + 2 = 18 (2d10 + 2)

>>5587615

You feel a surge of emotion flood through your implant almost instantly as the program executes and you can’t help but smile at the infectious joy that attempts to smother your current worries. You are getting the hang of keeping your connection to the ship throttled and your own emotions compartmentalised, so you gently but firmly rebuff the intrusive feelings. One of the many promises you made Peedee was to take over as her teacher in the absence of that aspect of the TRINITY AI, and while you’re glad that your young protegee has returned and seemingly evaded her over-bearing warden, you need to make sure she understands boundaries.

“Welcome back Peedee,” you subvocalize in the confines of your helmet, “sorry for pushing you out like that but you remember what I said about controlling your emotions?”

You feel a slightly more subdued pulse of sulky acknowledgment, but no other reply. Odd, normally she’d be drawing on your HUD or synthesising speech through your helmet speakers by now. Slightly worried you ask, “Are you okay? I opened your message as soon as I could, are you still hurt from when you tackled Guard? Are you not able to talk?”

Furtive negation and then reassurance bleeds through your thin connection to the ship, and you get the impression that Peedee is deliberately being discreet — the lack of communication a precaution against drawing the Guardian AI’s attention. You send back a flicker of understanding and some reassurance of your own, best not to speak any further until you’re sure Guard has truly lost her scent.

You are jostled about as Cleo bounds up the stairs to the observation bridge and you reach up to finally deactivate your uniform’s suit function — the helmet retracting in a sweeping flow of nano-materials as the tension in the skin tight suit relaxes. You are greeted by the sight of your Comms officer standing with her fists planted on her hips watching the arrival of your command crew with faint amusement. Your temporary ride comes to halt and stares with mild disapproval as Isobel attempts to hide her laughter at the absurd picture the two of you make.

“I knew I had some catching up to do, Sir, but I didn’t realise congratulations were also in order.”
Her grin grows wider and distinctly more malicious, “But normally it's the groom’s job to do the carrying, not the other way around,” she cackles.

“That’s what I said,” Kiro joins in, with a wheezy giggle of his own, “though I think Dal makes a fine princess.”
What a snake, you’ll get him for this. You try to crane your neck around to level a glare at your no good, ingrate, adopted brother when you notice the effect the banter is having on your morose Nav officer. Far from her previous sullen expression, the Ulveng looks halfway between nonplussed and furious at being implied as the ‘prince’ in this scenario. Perhaps, the good-natured ribbing of your two more socially inclined officers was intended to distract Cleo out of her funk.

File: No Bulli Cleo.gif (143 KB, 795x1057)

143 KB GIF

>>5587617

Glaring indignantly at the two troublemakers, a slight dampness still visible around her eyes, Cleo seems momentarily lost for words. You feel her arms begin to shake and for a second you worry that she might drop you, but suddenly they tense and go still.

>Kiro and Isobel both roll 10 (8+2) social checks.
>Double success.


“Oi, FUCK off you two.” Her usually girly translated voice suddenly deepens in register to match her guttural growl, “The Cap’s bloody paralysed and we’ve got torpedoes about to tear us a new asshole and all you wyrm-ridden bastards want to do flap your gums?” Cleo huffs and pushes past them to deposit you securely in your command chair. You can see your devious Ops and Comms officers exchanging smirks behind her back, and Kiro even has the temerity to slap Isobels surreptitiously proffered low-five with a tail tip.

“You able to keep yourself upright, Cap?” Cleo asks with a slight smile, her voice calm and steady once more. “I’ve got a ship to fly!”

Cleo is no longer suffering from emotional distress(1).

“Thanks for the lift Nav, I’ll be fine now.” You reply, slapping her shoulder appreciatively, “I can almost feel my knees again so the meds are doing their job.”

“You’re going to have to tell me that whole story, Dallas,” Isobel remarks with glint in her eye, “Y’know, just to set the record straight and all.”

“It was self-inflicted,” Eyes-of-Night confides to her in a mock whisper, “didn’t listen to the doctor’s advice and look what it gets him.” She shakes her feathery head.

“A shotgun wedding?” The Human officer snarks back, taking her seat at the communications console.

“Alright, enough out of you two gossiping schoolgirls!” Cleo stomps past them, claws scraping menacingly on the deck plates, “We have some hosiles to hunt.”

As glad as you are to see that Cleo is back to her usual terrifying self, precious time has been wasted. You need to know what you’re up against and how long you have left.
“Tactical, tell me you have eyes on those torpedoes.” You call out, your commanding voice bringing silence and order back to the bridge.

“Negative, Captain.” Lieutenant La’afette replies from his station professionally, “Our damaged optical sensors weren’t able to track the enemy vessel and the torpedoes simultaneously. They appear to both be coated in the same stealth plating, no IR or EM signatures detectable at this range, Sir.”

“Damn,” you curse, “I need to know if they were SCRAM equipped or not. It's the difference between them arriving hours or minutes from now!”

“Logs show two GRASERS and ten torpedoes launching simultaneously, Captain” your Ops officer reports promptly, “we appear to have evaded the DEWs with our earlier manoeuvre and we have at least a vector for the torps. Maybe we should fire up the TFA?”

“We should, Sir,” says your Science officer, “with data from the temporal flux antenna, I can tell you whether those torpedoes are using SCRAM or if they’re just ballistic.”

>>5587655

==POWER OUTPUT REQUIRED FOR TFA ACTIVATION: 10% CURRENT PRODUCTION==
You double take as the unprompted report comes from the engineering station where WEAVY floats, tapping away at the console like it owns it. With your Engineering officer still out cold somewhere around here, you suppose you’ll have to hope the strange drone has picked up enough to be useful until you can spare the time to wake the slacker.

Though the reminder is timely, firing up the power hungry, subspace piercing antenna will definitely tip off the enemy as to your ship’s status — though it will give you a definitive answer immediately as to whether the incoming torpedoes will be a problem sooner or later. So far you have only used minimal firepower and thrust so it’s conceivable that the enemy may still consider you crippled and on reserve power, you could keep playing that card a little longer to lull them into a false sense of security. Alternatively, you can throw subtlety to the wind and demonstrate the power of your fully partially armed and operational voidship.

What will be your strategy going forward?
>Continue to use minimal power, search for the missing torpedoes along their last known heading with optical. Keep the enemy in the dark as to your abilities.
>Fire up the TFA and find those torps. We might as well rip the medi-strip off and start playing hardball with the enemy.
>Perhaps a compromise? Pulse the TFA to get an instant reading on the torps instead of a continuous one. The enemy could assume we used the last of our power to search for them.
>Something else. Write in.

>>5587672
>Continue to use minimal power, search for the missing torpedoes along their last known heading with optical. Keep the enemy in the dark as to your abilities.
Is it an option to launch a single “bird” and have it use a sensor instead, or is it too weak/flight deck still too damaged?

>>5587690
Nothing we have in the hangar bay has a TFA or sensors powerful enough to cut through stealth better than our ship. Best they could do is set up a picket screen to help track torps as they make their terminal approach and guide PD fire.

>>5587672
>Fire up the TFA and find those torps. We might as well rip the medi-strip off and start playing hardball with the enemy.
If we manage to defeat these torps they'll know we're powered up anyway

>>5587672
>>Fire up the TFA and find those torps. We might as well rip the medi-strip off and start playing hardball with the enemy.
best to go all out.
+1>>5587690
suggestion when available.

>>5587672
>Fire up the TFA and find those torps. We might as well rip the medi-strip off and start playing hardball with the enemy.

>>5587808
Support.

>>5587672
>Perhaps a compromise? Pulse the TFA to get an instant reading on the torps instead of a continuous one. The enemy could assume we used the last of our power to search for them.

>>5587984
>>5587980
>>5587777
>>5587720
>>5587690
>Fire up the TFA. The time for subtlety is over.
>Updating

Also, I apologise that I didnt let you take the social rolls to cheer up Cleo but I kind of wanted to push out the update and it was 4 am.

Hopefully the unconventional way I characterised Izzy and Kiro's successes works for you guys.

>>5588297
I always appreciate when NPCs get a chance to shine with each other mechanically. Having the PC directly or indirectly fix everything is weird. They had it covered so well they didn’t even try to consult us, and that’s cool.

File: TFA Scan.gif (325 KB, 1200x675)

325 KB GIF

>>5587672

"Alright, enough playing cat and mouse. We're bringing all systems online!" Your decision made, you commit to showing your hand to the unknown assailants. Despite their seemingly advanced technology, they’re still only the size of a light cruiser. Without surprise on their side, your vessel should be more than a match for the ten measly torpedoes they’ve mustered against you.
“Sci, bring that TFA up to full power. If they’re using so much as a grav plate I want to know about it.”

“Aye, Sir, spooling up now.” Eyes-of-Night coos softly, her mature translated voice drawling in contentment with your decision.

The lights on the observation bridge dim as enormous amounts of power is diverted to spin up the great rotating coils that enable a tiny localised tear in subspace to form despite the proximity to the system Primary. Moments later the Temporal Flux Antenna dips through the rent in space-time to peer into the shallowest layer of subspace, allowing it to detect any ripples in the boundary between the two — propagating at a speed magnitudes greater than light in realspace.

Any usage of devices relying on Space Rarefaction, Compression and Manipulation principles will shine like beacons to the sensitive instrument. Nothing significant will evade its sight, with anything greater than a Corvette class SCRAM drive detectable across the width of a star system at the TFA’s current power setting. With the incoming torpedoes less than five light minutes away, you expect finding their real-time locations will be a breeze. If not, then they're likely coasting ballistically instead and you’ll have plenty of time to pick them up on optical.

Eagerly awaiting the results, you lean forward in anticipation, perhaps unwisely considering your lack of restraining straps and still numb legs. Abruptly, a profound sense of vast emptiness assaults your mind and your vision blanks, replaced with an endless vista of pure white. Agoraphobia assaults you worse than you’ve ever experienced before from your implant sickness, but you power through it, bracing your arms against the sides of your command seat. You notice dark pinpricks of shadow sweep into view and then out again, your vision rotating at a nauseating rate. Dark ripples spread out from the sources like pebbles dropped in a still pond, the waves gradually dissipating with distance.

You grit your teeth and slowly draw yourself away from the disorienting vision, your experience (Part of the Crew, Part of the Ship(1)) making it possible to distinguish between what must be Peedee’s experience of her newly awakened TFA sensor and your own human senses. The poor little thing is likely just as overwhelmed as you are, but for your own sanity you clamp down on the command implant’s link to her as much as you can. You need your mind clear so you can interpret the results of the scan and make an informed decision on how to proceed.

File: On Screen.gif (185 KB, 1200x675)

185 KB GIF

>>5588655

“Results are coming in now, Captain.” Your Science officer reports adroitly, “We have one light cruiser class SCRAM signal located three hundred and six light seconds away, appears to be finishing a retroburn. Another cluster of TFA noise accelerating rapidly between its location and ours, probability that it’s our ten missing torpedoes is at 96%.”

“On screen please, Ms EoN and give me a system overlay, Mr Skyeskal!” You order, professionally.

“Of course, Sir.”, “Way ahead of you, Captain.” The adept replies come almost as quickly as the main screen lights up with the system map. Steadily blinking icons quickly populate the display, indicating the location of the TPN Coober Pedy and the calculated positions and vectors of the detected SCRAM signals.

“What do you make of it, Mr La’afette?” You address your Tactical officer next, looking for insight on how best to tackle the rapidly approaching problem.

The Laedra takes a moment to respond, likely running through each scenario before settling on what he considers the most likely conclusion. “From visual inspection and demonstrated performance I can only conclude that our opponent’s torpedoes are likely at least as sophisticated and powerful as our own, if not more so.” He begins methodically, in an almost monotone voice.
“ETA is twenty five minutes if they maintain an average of point two cee. I give counterbattery interception even odds of success should we choose the nuclear option. Less so with conventional munitions. Launching now, I anticipate interception within fifteen minutes. Time enough to launch a second volley at short range should we wish.”

His report finished, your tactical officer returns to running simulated interceptions on his console, leaving the decision in your hands.

“Captain,” Isobel takes the opportunity to speak, “Medical reports the first batch of weapon techs you ordered unfrozen are at their stations in the aft torpedo bays. Apparently it's still a mess in the magazine back there so you’ll only have what’s currently in the tubes for that half of the ship.”

You bring up the tactical display for your weapon systems on your command console, assessing the situation for yourself. The holo display shows you the usual range of ordnance is currently locked and loaded in each of the torpedo bays, with the forward magazine holding another two full volleys ready in reserve. Your ever cautious Father has left an even mix of offensive and defensive torpedo loadouts throughout the 40 total tubes your voidship boasts. Your Tactical training lets you quickly determine your interception options are as follows:

Long range:
- 8x LRC3 torpedoes - Long range, SCRAM capable, 3x Conventional sprint missiles.
- 8x LRF torpedoes - Long range, SCRAM capable, Nuclear Fusion Warhead - shape configurable.

Short Range:
- 8x SRC6 - Short range, 6x Conventional sprint missiles.
- All long range options can also be used at short range.

File: DAHRAIN SYSTEM.png (220 KB, 2560x1440)

220 KB PNG

>>5588667

While the LRF torpedoes can be used to take out large groups of torpedoes effectively, they are also useful for attacking enemy vessels. The remaining sixteen torpedoes in the tubes are long range attack or E-warfare variants and are not suitable for counterbattery interception.

Your Tactical skill allows you to customise your response however you like. What will you do?
>Order an immediate long range interception. You can follow up with short range options if that isn’t enough. (Use conventional, nuclear or both?) By the Book suggests this is the safest option when facing an unknown threat.
>Wait for the torpedoes to close to short range and hit them then. (Use conventional, nuclear or both?)
>Don’t waste any torpedoes for such a measly volley. You trust your point defence gunners and decoy drone operators to deal with the enemy torps.
>Write in.

Alternatively:
>Let your Tac officer formulate a response, telling him to be:
>>Conservative. Our ship can tank the odd hit. Conserve resources.
>>Moderate. Try to get the most bang for our buck.
>>Liberal. Let nothing through. Spare no expense.

>>5588669
>Order an immediate long range interception. You can follow up with short range options if that isn’t enough. (Use conventional, nuclear or both?) By the Book suggests this is the safest option when facing an unknown threat.
Slight sleight-of-hand intended.
>Use all conventional and nuclear torpedos
>Conventional torpedos target the current salvo
>Nuclear torpedos go towards the torpedos, but are actually aiming for the enemy ship

Hopefully they delay countermeasures thinking we’re targeting the current wave.

>>5588710
Supporting

>>5588710
+1

>>5588710
Send it. I don't want anymore trouble from this guy

>>5588710
Your tactical officer considers your plan and comments:
"We have eight Nuclear torpedoes currently loaded. If the enemy's defence options are in any way similar to ours I estimate approximately two might make it through to detonation if they are fooled into delaying thier response as you hope, Sir. Not likely enough to overwhelm their voidplate, but it could prime them for a follow up salvo."

>>5589098
If not, we still get information on their own defenses. They could be greater instead of similar, and we’ll need to adjust for the next wave.

May as well fire them now and empty the tubes. We’ll reload them when they can clear out the magazines.

>>5588710
Support! This is a smart idea.

>>5588710
Let's do it

>>5589841
>>5589608
>>5589078
>>5588768
>>5588734
>>5588710
>An all out long range interception salvo with a twist, the incoming torpedoes aren't all you'll be intercepting.
>Updating