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  • 📅 April 2024 is YE 46.3 in the RP.

RP: LSDF Akahar [Chapter 1.0] Once More Into the Howling Dark

Keib decided that there were enough prying eyes for the briefing to begin, now. Even those who were tardy would still get word of it all eventually. He put the coffee cup down and walked over to the front of the ready room with his student in tow.

"Ladies, Gentlemen, I have some grave news to announce before we take off and search for the Mok'Ro." He started, eyes scanning the room and seeing all the familiar faces. "This morning, the High Priest has publicly released details of the LSDF's fight against the Occhestians." His voice showed some concern - if only for what he was responsible for that'd soon come to light.

"Reactions from the galactic community have been those of scorn, hostility and distrust - which is what any self-serving Lorath seems to be busy wearing like armour when confronted with adversity, bringing it up upon the slightest provocation and playing the victim." His brow furrowed as he remembered some of his peers who played the Occhestian genocide to the hilt, profiting off of every life taken.

He then sighed as he pulled a note out of his top lab coat pocket. He didn't look at it just yet. "But, that doesn't mean all of us have to be painted with the same brush. We can do better than that in our simple mission. We're not out to subjugate, destroy or expand, just recover our dead. Bridge Crew, this is your cue to return to your stations." He pointed to the door, and the bridge crew got up and scattered back to their postions.

He then unfolded the note and started reading from it: "Speaking of which, we have some progress on the Mok'Ro, and I'd like to thank Soldier Shrie'Keng, Trooper Bastion and Citizen Kalopsia for their ideas and input." The back screen of the Pilot Ready room turned on, showing all of the information gleaned, and in the process of being rendered and crunched by the Akahar's ARIA. In particular, an image was starting to appear, layer by layer, slowly and certainly as Aiesu's six-way microphone idea was coming to light. "The more we know what we're dealing with, the better prepared we shall be for resistance."

Then the loading ramp could be heard coming up upon Keib's previous command as the bridge crew got to work. "With this in mind, we're going to take the trip to Tange to start our preliminary investigation." The interior cabin could be felt equalising and pressurising in preparation for the lack of atmosphere. "It will take us some time since we're going to be flying in under the radar. Nobody knows whose territory Tange is any more. Could be Yamataians, could be pirates, could be NMX, who knows? Better safe than sorry after all."

And then the engines could be heard warming up, the ship shook as movement overtook it, and it found itself short of an atmosphere - having left the in-orbit docking station's clutches - and free to explore. "Bridge, this is the XO speaking," he called over intercom. "How was takeoff?"

"All systems green, sir!" One of them replied as he could be heard pushing buttons and flipping switches.

"Stealth systems primed and activated too?" He inquired, before hearing a noise of approval. "Excellent. Set course for Tange, following the node pattern in the Mok'Ro's message. We might be able to salvage stray information from the communication nodes and beacons that transmitted the message on our way."

"Yes sir. Activating the Hyperspace Fold Drives." The bridge responded, punctuated by more keystrokes and clicking - as well as the sound of a straw drinking something. "Hyperspace Fold Drive ready. Your call, Sub-Lieutenant."

Keib's eyes narrowed and a grin came across his face: "Punch that shit." He said in fluent Trade. And then the Fold Drive sprung into action, and the Akahar were off. He then cleared his throat to return to his native tongue: "With all that done, we're moving at a brisk clip of about point-two-five light years a minute to facilitate the Stealth Systems, and we'll get to Tange when we get there. During the meanwhilst - bide your time, continue your preparations as you see fit."

In layman's terms, they were moving a light year every about four minutes or so. "Select loadouts in the armoury in advance if need be. Any further questions?"

He awaited input from the crew.
 
"If we're stopping to get data from the nodes and chewing on it, it'll take us at least three days, assuming nothing else happens." Keib responded crisply. He always pondered the artificial eyes of an ARIA - why make them look so lifelike if failure means that it becomes uncanny?
 
Aiesu felt herself being stared at as an object yet again. Thought of, as an object. The worst part was she was starting to accept it as fact - an anger beneath the surface.

"I should be able to fish up some more computing power. Seems the consortium valued this mission more than I thought." she said, remembering the crates she'd dredged from the cargo bay - the big heavy containers covering her floor in towers, leaving only a small 'tunnel' between the door and the bed to squeeze through.

"I wouldn't mind your help getting everything set up, since you seem to know your way around the platform"
 
The object was talking.

Arguably, Four-Six was a species of object herself, but the plain truth was that she really didn't like Aiesu. Out of an entire room full of military personnel, she was the only one who was a civilian. The XO wore really weird clothing sometimes but at least he mostly wore a uniform.

Certainly, they weren't going to use the soldiers to help this thing move its clothing and stuff?

Four-Six was sitting beside one of the biggest soldiers in the room. It conveyed a sort of idea of safety that she didn't actually dislike, though Bastion made Four uneasy at times. Still, Four sat stark still, the tip of her tail, lain out across her legs, twitching only very slightly as she pondered what to do, or say, or whether she should do or say anything at all.

She was supposed to remember something, but Four couldn't remember what it was.

Eventually she asked, in a small voice, "Mister Kieb, are you alright?"
 
"Three days? Well damn. I guess I do have time to make that scarf," Merril cackled, twirling a knitting needle like a drumstick. She must have pulled the needle out of a pocket, because she didn't seem to have it on the way in. Merril's grin widened, listening to Aiesu's request. That civvie didn't slack off at all. Good work ethic.
 
Mister Keib. It'd been a long time since he'd been called that. Very few people in his life could be considered equals. He could only count them on one hand. His CO, his partner back on Lor, Greg, and, perhaps, Four Six.

"No. Probably not." He sighed in response to the freed Helashio. "There's just no escaping the past. That's all." He had enough of the questions for now, walked over to the refreshments table and started fixing himself a cup of tea. "Ladies, gents. You're dismissed. You know where to find me if you have further questions."

He gave Aiesu an upwards nod and gave her a motion to stand by the refreshments table, "Now, about your platform set up. I will have to keep an eye on it as well as your word." He was referring to whatever computing power she had. It had to be quarantined. "No hidden subroutines, backdoors, trojans, worms or payloads. Nothing personal - just sticking to security protocols."

He then smirked. "The higher ups will have my balls if they discover mine anyway. It'd be worse if they got yours figured out!"
 
"I have my doubts" the Construct shrugged as she poured herself a mug of coffee. She waited until the others had mostly left, peering at Four Six particularly as she stood with her back to them.

She began pondering what it would take to gain his trust. She'd gotten away with much more severe penetrations and revelations of security violation in the past and had become proficient at coverups - but this mission wasn't like the others, or so she'd been told.

"You said you knew your way around ARIA? What do you know about the persogenic keybond?" she said, her voice hushed. Aiesu took a long sip from her coffee, eyeing the inky blackness with a particularly sober expression for quite some time.

This would have been her trump-card but to surrender it so early into the game... She was kicking herself.
 
Mars remained seated while the tiny civilian and the XO talked. With the briefing over she gave a thought or two of what weaponry she should take on this mission. They will have to rely on simpler stuff, since Akahar was not equipped with any Power Armour. They were there just to look for lost ships, it was not except of them of to fight anything worse then Pirates. And should some Pirate in PA appear, then they will all pray and shoot as much as they can.

Mars looked at her XO, seemed like the consortium person was bugging him again, only this time she might actually be useful. Mars wondered if she should stay here, and since Four-Six was staying, Mars might as well too.

"Ever wore a Wind-suite before lass?" Mars asked Four-Six just to not sit there silently.
 
Four looked up at Mars, then down again at her own tail, brushing her hand over it to straighten the small hairs.

"They don't make those for Helashio."
 
Mars looked at Four-Six and studied her for a while. She was not sure WIND suit her size will be on ship. If not, the regular battlesuit should be. WIND would be better though.

"Actually they make WINDs ever fro non-Lorath," Mars replied still watching the small Helashio. "We will have to raid the cargo-hold and see if there will be one that fits. And then train you to use its GUST system. You ever were in Zero gravity before?"
 
Horizon listened intently to what Keib was saying. From the moment the XO had walked through the door Vathr'dal could tell this was a serious briefing. The pilot had been in enough of these briefings before to know that when Keib didn't "dress" for the occasion that it was not a time for goofing around.

He listened to the info that the XO gave pertaining to the Mok'Ro. Not really a lot, but it was more than they had before. At least they had a heading and were starting out. Vathr'dal always loved space voyages. The feeling of moving through space at impossible speeds was an enchanting one.

Horizon was also surprised when Keib said there would be at least three days between their departure and arrival. He bcould have sworn it would have been a longer trip. Regardless, this extra time gave him the luxury of being able to finish the circuits he was working on before the briefing. One question still remained, though.

"Sir, any idea as to what you're gonna need me to do when we get there?" Vathr'dal wasn't certain of what his role as a pilot would be in the Mok"Ro recovery, so he thought he would ask Keib.
 
The medic merrily laughed to herself, strolling out of the room. Soon enough, she was once again in her room and with her bag, which was half filled with thread, yarn, fabric, and so on. Merril set about her work quickly, if a little haphazardly, causing bits and scraps to fall onto the floor.

It was a nice day for tailoring, apparently.
 
"I'll need you to deliver our away team there, and perform perimeter duty with Al'Ris." He addressed the pilot, "If something goes wrong I can send another pilot. Your file says you're a good pilot, Vathr'dal. I'd hate to lose you." A hint of genuine, unfeigned warmth in his voice was present when addressing the pilot. Either he'd become so good at deluding himself or he truly was a good commander in spite of his past.

And then he turned around to answer Aiesu...

>ON!

Keib had programmed a few ARIA's in his past. In the beginning they were bolted down tighter than the Xiaah's underpants, post defilement - but as time went on and his rebellious streak started to appear, he began to loosen things up - adding clarification routines and phrases to bypass or enforce certain things - or smile and wave when the higher-ups showed up.

It was fun to make an AI lie to people, because everyone believed they were always right, being a computer. "I know a thing or two. Have used it to make some truly deceptive AI for my own amusement." He replied, bringing the cup of tea beneath his chin and savouring the wisps of steam.

"Then you understand what it is I'm offering you?" Aiesu spoke slowly, her voice very calm at this moment. "You understand the trust I'm investing in you." She had a very personal rule of never allowing anyone into her head and she was violating it.

"I understand that you're a ROM-Construct copy, but you still are Aiesu Kalopsia. Of course."

"So you understand how hard it was for me to come to this decision." she sighed, watching the ripples in her coffee. The XO nodded in reply, his expression tame rather than upbeat. He took a sip of his tea before wondering what else she had to say.

"But why?" Was his first question, as he evaluated the woman before him. "Are you putting that much trust in me, or do your backers want you to succeed at all costs?"

She didn't answer - believing herself mad to have even asked the real Aiesu for permission to do this -- and her for to be even madder to have given her the go ahead.

"Very well." Keib responded, blinking. "Let's get to the medbay, then. Greg, autoclave the instruments and prep the room. This will take a while." He gave his Helashio student a smile, and it was trotting off on its way ahead of Aiesu and Keib, its tail swaying beneath its labcoat happily. "The pragmatism of your backers scares me somewhat." He guessed as he walked through the corridors.

"Mind doing me a favor?" she spoke up for the first time in quite a while now, following behind - her steps like those of a prisoner - surrendering what few inaliable rights she tried to convince herself she had. He murmurred a vague approximation of a yes in reply.

"If anything happens to you, logically the pillars of command fall on someone else - and so does the bond. If that happens, I want to .." Aiesu took a careful breath. "When this is all over, I want to be destroyed."

"Your call. What shall I do with your data? Don't you have to report back?" Keib's eyebrow arched across his forehead. "They would not be happy with that."

"All they care about is the mission. I'm... Expendable."

He sighed as he pushed his way into the medbay doors. It was all there, all set up. Keib took off his preferred labcoat and donned a clean one - for medical purposes, of course. He inspected his tools, the computer he had set up in the medbay for the reprogramming and made a double check. These proceedures, while the end results were fun in the past, the process of doing so was something that required a practiced restraint and knowledge.

A sense of impending doom filled the little Lmanel's belly as she caught sight of the chair, the computers and even the surgical tools. Her eyes darted, running through a few routines in her head. "One other thing."

"Shoot."

"Don't fuck this up. You only get to do this once. And don't abuse this."

"Done." All pretense of joy had left his voice by now as old habits started to slowly creep back into his mind and colour his thoughts. It was as though he'd been fostering multiple personalities to deal with trauma. He turned around, tools ready and made a simple command. "Sit."

She noted the chair, like that of a dentist's, was just a little too high for her. Planting her palms on the seat, she hoisted herself up into its embrace, feeling its shape conform to that of her back. The construct was quite short by Lorath standards, little bigger than a child. She'd performed this procedure herself hundreds if not thousands of times but she'd never experienced it herself. She narrowed her eyes - the surgical lights above blinding as she tried to make out Keib's features in the bleach white sterile room.

Being who she was, Aiesu had never fully trusted others - so to put her life in the hands of someone like this - even if it wasn't her own to give - left her knuckles white against the arm-rests - little ticks in her behavior giving away that despite her expression and heart-rate (which she'd overridden for Keib's sake), she wasn't as calm as she wanted to appear.

This wasn't Keib's first ARIA. There was always a bitter maxim that went through the academies. The first one was always your worst job. It'd teach you never to do the wrong thing again by living with those consequences. He stood over her with the tools.

Aiesu cleared her throat. She was getting impatient and her nerves were starting to get the better of her. "I need to be awake through this procedure or it won't work. Its ... Kind of a kludge, since a 2.5 isn't really meant to take a keybond. But the software is still there and so are all the permissions and ownerships"

"I've retrofitted a keybond onto 1.5."

"Huh. Showoff." She found herself smiling, bitterly. "Can we just get on with this?"

He did. One inch deep into the back of her neck there was a jack. He cut it open carefully, his hands were unnaturally still as he did this by hand rather than relying upon a machine to make a series of more precise cuts to reveal the jack. Slowly, steadily the piece of synthetic flesh beneath the real flesh of her skin and muscle - a cap or covering of sorts - was placed in a specimen tray and tagged by Greg. From the computer, he got a line of cable with a jack sticking out of the business end.

She felt her right eye twitch. Although she was aware this was happening to her - and could feel it - she processed it as some distant sensation, as if she were being told about it rather than it really being painful. It confused her some, though as the jack went in, there was a brief double blink from her iris as it changed colour for a moment, indicating the connection had been established.

It was pushed into the back of her neck - her spine revealed. What should have been bone was strangely reflective, chromic as if polished like the material of a scalpel or some high-performance aircraft part. The cable was twisted and locked into place with a series of clicks that sent a chill down the Construct's back.

"Huh." she spoke, seeming quite spaced out now, starting to experience the disassociation of interface for the first time. "I don't remember it feeling like that. Do you need me to tell you the rest of the procedure? Its... A little different."

He continued wordlessly, probing the back of her skull. He passed it over with a straight-edged razor to lift up a flap of hair - exposing what would appear to be a layer of tissue and fat over the skullcase itself.

He mumbled non-committally before being handed a diamond-edged circular saw and turning it on. Whzzzzzzzzzshrrrrk.

"Is this going to hurt?" she asked demurely as the drill was already boring into her skull. She couldn't hear it, let alone feel it - an empty and oddly dizzy smile across her features -- a software analogue of painkillers running through her neural simulation - an atom per atom emulation of a living brain in software. Her expression defied uncanny valley - muscle-groups contorted unnaturally, making her seem strangely doll-like at this point. There was almost no way she was 'really there' in the room with them, mentally.

It cut through the bone and then into a metallic chromic material beneath of similar thickness - sparks flying before the blade would slowly whir to a stop. Another tool would be needed. However, the diamond-edge was still cutting - just very slowly and surely. He believed in a long job being a well done job as the military grade metal alloy resisted - he was cutting along a seam in the skull as a guide line.

"I feel as if... like I'm leaking" she staggered her words - a faint pale trickle of fluid running down the side of her neck from the incision - smelling distinctly of blood - pooling between her shoulder and the chair. "Is that normal?" The question was rhetorical - she wouldn't even hear his voice if he spoke.

Withdrawing the circular saw with its work done and the blade blunted, he passed the now-defunct blade to Greg and took up a drill with a suction and lubrication delivery system upon it. He was able to find another set of guidelines - a pentagonal groove or trench about three millimetres deep and a millimetre wide where the grain of the metal had been intentionally weakened. Inky white blood sat in the groove, slippery pale pinkish white tissue residual in the engraved text - a warning, explaining what was beneath and the proper procedure in text, but also a warning stating various health warnings about what kind of masks should be worn during the procedure - none of it concerning her own welfare but the person performing the procedure.

And Keib had a mask on from the start, dehumanizing him as he continued cutting into the uncanny doll.

"Hello?" she called out - a creak in her voice as the muscles in her throat briefly froze - musculature beginning to lock up. "Are you there?" Her eyes peered about - most of her body paralysed - but soon her vision would follow, staring dead into the ceiling. Her left hand was shaking now. She was either blind or deaf at this point - probably for her own benefit. Her own words were repeated on the computer console in a text-prompt - her serial number in brackets preceding everything she'd said (or thought) for the last few minutes - much of it incredibly whimsical and completely detached from the situation.

For example, she'd began wondering if something was in the coffee - doing a spectral assessment on her own stomach content and blood content. She'd also asked herself perhaps exactly why Four Six was called Four Six - performing a battery of calculations and estimates to find any interesting mathematical, cultural or historical patterns. She'd also worked out the cubic space in her quarters, excluding whatever space any objects within it filled it -- and the cubic interior of most of the ship. Anything to distract herself from what was happening.

"Keib?"

And now the plate was to be unscrewed. Five pentagonal jack screws at each end of the pentagon, and an ominously large one was in the centre, requiring a larger screwdriver. "Yes, Aiesu. I am here." He responded flatly as his concentration was sapped by his activities. Each came out - like long needles reaching into her skull, each the length of a finger - the largest requiring a 180 degree turn before a soft hiss of suction sounded and the pressure inside equalized.

"Hello?" she asked again, starting to drum her fingers now, becoming nervous. She hadn't heard him. He could hear Aiesu grinding her teeth now.

He'd forgotten for the moment that she was deaf, blind and dumb. It was a simple reflex on his part. His spare hand wandered to the plastic-wrapped keyboard and typed out, singlehandedly: "Yes, Aiesu. I am here." For all intents and purposes she was a shell, and the console was his only way of communicating with her now.

>PAUSE!

During this time, the crew were free to meditate or talk to Hakahn to fill any gaps that were left by the executive officer. Hakahn had retired to his office and he was watching Keib operate quietly through a holographic screen, sipping coffee and interweaving his fingers. He regarded what he saw as though he was watching an opera unfold before him - poetic, but difficult to understand if you weren't versed in the pathos.

The red flags in Keib's file never quite bothered Hakahn at a deep level - taking him aboard was a calculated risk of necessity - the genius underscored by the madness - the two traits treading a shaky line. To him, this was just him getting leverage over the civilian to get some idea of what she was up to.
 
"Alright sir, I understand. And I think I'll be fine getting the team over there." Vathr'dal was actually surprised at the warmth that Keib showed him. He was by no means a mean person, but this was unexpected. Just before he left, a new question sprang up in the pilot's mind.

"Sir, any idea of what I'll be flying?" Vathr'dal needed to know what he would be using so he could prep himself before the mission and learn the vehicle.
 
Half an hour later

Mars waited for Four-Six in front of the cargo-hold. The ship lacked a quartermaster and so the inventory was held by the ships Aria. There were several suits and it was time to see if any would fit Four-Six. The small Helashio was such a peculiar size too. Not very tall, but with some bust too. Maybe some of the suits after past L'Manel crewmember could fit her. Though Mars will need to get some engineer to get the wing-module down. It will be work, but they are going ot have three days for it.

Four sat on a crate, dangling her feet and watching Mars with lightly coloured, politely interested eyes.

"I don't ever remember wearing one," Four kept explaining. "So I doubt I ever have."

Mars pushed the button to open the door and waved her hand at Four to follow her. "Let's see first if we have one that fits you," She said and walked in. Sometimes it was silly that Mars forgot about Four's lack of memory. It was easy to forget it. Somehow.

Glancing around, Four followed hesitantly. "Are you sure we're supposed to be doing this?"

Mars nodded as she brought up her datapad and started poking at its display. She was connecting with Aria and looking through the inventory. "It is okay," Mars replied. "Keib would be okay with it and I do not dare poke at him now that he is working with that civvie. And I do not really care about old Brainfart. Plus you need a suite and get used to it." It was simple explanation.

"Never used to," Four reasoned, "Hardly more than a uniform, anyway."

Four came up alongside Mars, which was to say, her head came to about where Mars was holding the datapad. She was much, much shorter than Mars. She folded her hands just over the base of her tail,

Mars went and checked numbers on few boxes, before opening one and look in. Inside were various sets of WIND suits and helmets for them. Mars took a bunch of it into her arms with large swipe and then tossed them on the ground. "Well let's have a look!" She said and picked one. It was for someone who was at least 2 meters tall and had extra fifty kilos more then Four. "Well not this one," Mars stated and put it aside.

Four crouched down and began poking through the pile, without much apparent enthusiasm. Most of the armours were not in her size - they were too large. Stonethread wouldn't shrink.

"I can't believe this," Mars muttered as she was going through the suits. "I am sure we had few smaller L'Manels on the ship. If we just fixed the holes for wings, you could wear the suit until we get completely new one." Mars said and sighed.

Sitting on her tush cross-legged, Four settled her hands on her ankles and wrapped her tail around her middle. She watched Mars with morose concern, ears curling at the tips. "I suppose if it is not too much trouble."

Mars stopped her work and turned to Four. "Well it is simple," she started explaining. "You need a suit you can use in places without atmosphere. Wind is better than standard Battledress so it would be good if we could get one for you too."

"It's okay," Four intimated, thumbing over the hem of her uniform pants instead of looking at Mars.

Walking through the cargo hold with an apple in one hand and a bottle of drink in the other was Gough, and to his left, Yar'Mak. The two had come down to make their weapons and armour selections. They had an impressive enough list to choose from. They spotted Bastion and Four Six. Gough gave the duo an upwards nod as Yar'Mak inspected sidearms, hands by his side and eyes inspecting the weapons.

"Hey Gough!" Mars said and waved at hear, leaning against the box. "Got any idea where those smaller WIND suit are? I know I saw few down here before." She said and shook her head in disbelief.

"Oh, I think they're in storage." Gough said. "Since the Ur'Gash recovery they've been stocked up." That was that one recovery where the ship careened into a small paradise planet. It was the one where Keib wore flippers and a snorkel to the briefing shortly after discovering where it landed.

The higher ups frowned upon their use as scuba equipment, and they simply had to 'disappear', Keib style.

Mars laughed a little. Ur'Gash was a good recovery. Little work and much fun. Beach and sun and all that. Too bad Akahar had sudden 'malfunction' that and they had to stay on the planet longer then anticipated. It would be nice if more ships fell down on that planet.

"Right, right," Mars said and went further into storage place, going through the boxes. It took a minute or two before she came back with another very large box. She set it on the ground and opened. This was one was too full of various suits. "Maybe we will have better luck here Four."

The Helashio simply sat and watched, frozen in her quiet spot like a statue that had coincidentally been left cross-legged on the floor. For her, it seemed this was awkward and embarrassing, an uncomfortable reminder that she wasn't really a soldier.

"Think the Higher Ups ever caught on?" Gough asked aloud as he inspected a rifle. One of the older, less soldier-friendly models that came about in the rush of new technology post mooning, and able to chamber itself in any calibre with some work.

"I bet they did," Mars said as she took one suit out and spread it in her arms, giving it inquisitive look. "But they can't do nothing. What if there really were some people in danger in the water you know? Or maybe valuable technology that could have fallen off of the Ur'Gash," she joked and smiled.

"Try this one," she said handing the WIND suit to Four.

Taking the armour, which was mostly flexible stonethread with the occasional hard plate, and a set of lenses, Four folded it in over itself and looked up at Mars. "Right here?"

Mars raised an eyebrow. She herself was not shy at all, naked body is pretty normal, non-sexual thing for many soldiers. "Oh," she said and raised an eyebrow. "You are shy. Well okay." She said and pointed deeper into the warehouse where some boxes were stocked. "You can try it on there. I will make sure no one peeks." Mars promised, giving Gough and his friend an inquisitive look.

Gough and Yar'Mak concerned themselves with their respective loadouts for the moment. They weren't so uncouth as to compare sidearm sizes in front of the ladies, though - that would simply be gratuitous and uncalled for.

The small soldier stood up and her attention wandered to the door, clearly contemplating, for a few unrealistic and ill conceived moments, the possibility of quick escape. Then she looked up to Mars, who was almost twice as tall and weighed much, much more, remembered that she slept alongside this behemoth, and took the easy route - which was saying "No, it's ok, I don't care," and shedding her uniform.

They still concerned themselves with getting their equipment sorted out rather than oogle at the Helashio who could floor Al'Ris with her pinky finger. Gough figured that it might incur her wrath. Yar'mak was giving the occasional glance to the Helashio.

Beneath the uniform jacket and the shirt was a story of abuse that could only have been written in burns and lashmarks. A gunshot wound to the stomach topped it all off, somehow,like an angry period at the end of a terrible sentence. Mars did her best for her face to remain stoic. Every time she saw old wounds on Four's body she felt shivers going around her body. Mars was always sympathetic with slaves, something her mother and aunt did not like at all, but even Mars learn to accept it. What she still hated was when slaves were mistreated. Cruelty was something Mars just could not accept. Especially needless cruelty. Mars would wish that person who did all that to Four would get into her hands so she could snap his or her spine. It would be such a nice thing to hear. Yar'mak's expression twisted into disgust as he saw the Helashio's wounds and scars of abuse. He even stared for a moment before realising what he was doing, and resumed concerning himself with armaments.

Four was quick to grab the WIND and worm her way into it, before Mars could make much comment.

"Looks like it more or less fits," Mars then said, still rubbing her chin. "Maybe we can add some padding here and there. We need to do something about the wing-holes though. And your tail, is it uncomfortable?"

"It's not," Four admitted, pulling the stonethread hood up and gently tucking her ears into it - they looked like a couple of lumps attached to the base of her scalp. "But it will cramp eventually if I can't move."

"At least it looks good on you," Mars joked and smiled a little to get Four's mood up. "We can seal the holes on your back, but I am not sure what we could do about your tail and ears. Technically you do not have to wear the hood at least," The tall Fyunnen reached in the box and took a helmet, handing it to the smaller Helashio. She accepted it and turned it several ways before eventually deciding to set it aside.

"This is fine," she said, nervously resisting the urge to cringe in the face of all this attention. "I don't want to carry a helmet, and I only need to use the hood if the environment isn't safe for life. So it's not really an issue."

"Hmm," Mars hummed as she looked at Helashio. "Well we might go for the walk outside in the space, it is actually pretty big chance so you will need the helmet." Bastion said and sighed.

Four stooped down and picked up her discarded uniform, carefully folding it properly.

"I have an idea," Mars said. "That new medic she said she is good with stuff like clothes, maybe she knows how to fix WIND suit too. If not we can see if XO will have little time for this. Anyway you can keep this suit, I will log it with ARIA as yours for now. When we get back from this mission I will get XO to issue you a custom-one."

Standing up with her clothing bundled in her arms, Four nodded and smiled up at the much larger soldier. Four had a certain way of smiling that didn't really give off a pleased impression - it was more that she wanted to not be crushed.

Mars blinked as she looked at the helashio. Something was off. The large fyunnen went and slowly sat on the ground, so she would not tower over Four. "Is something wrong Four?" She asked with worry in her voice.

Four shook her head.

Eventually, Gough and Yar'Mak returned in WIND suits with Yar'Mak hauling a My'hyz service rifle with a M'Cel 40mm grenade launcher underneath the barrel. Gough, meanwhile was carrying the My'hyz's bigger, meaner and much fiddlier sister - the Ek'yra. They were much older weapons - and they were all the Akahar was given. Al'Ris had a Hik'id Plasma Rifle that she'd carved notches into the stock with.

All they were doing wearing it - in spite of their destination being millions of light years away, was just giving it a test run to see if it was all still working. The positive expressions on their faces spoke 'Yes'. They overheard Bastion, and decided not to intervene, moving on and exchanging worried glances.

"I hope she finds out which bastard did that to her." Yar'mak whispered under his breath to the lanky Gough.
 
Mist found himself sitting tight in the briefing room after being dismissed. Part of the Lmanel was still going over the contents of the briefing and the rest of him going over the refreshment tables offering. Settling for the tea he ended up taking a seat again.

Sipping as he tried to make sense of the briefing. Normally undocking would be preempted by a ship wide announcement wouldn't it? But that could just be the nature of the command. As for the content, the Occhestian Genocide seemed very importantly placed for no apparent reason. Most races already interacted with the Lorath poorly. Nothing had really changed there. So it had to be something more important than the update on the crews work. Mist was left looking down into the cup of tea. No new answers or even information gleamed. Though apparently there was progress with whatever numbers the ARIA had been working. Finishing his tea he found himself headed for the multipurpose room again.

Back in the corner of the room he had claimed for himself Shrie'keng was going through the information that the ARIA had crunched with his previous lists displayed as well. This time his approach would be a bit more refined though. "ARIA. from this list of vacuum surviving species, which ones have access to stealth technology that can evade normal scans?"

While he sat waiting for a return on his inquiry Mist found himself playing with the crew icons again. The XO and Commanders pictures pushed to the top of the work area. His own, Merril, and the Jiyuuian's pushed down near the bottom. Aiesu had a spot of honor as far off to the side as possible. The rest of the crew was merely a jumble of icons in the center with Four Six and Bastion only marginally separated from the ball of faces.
 
>ON!

"I heard once that when prey-birds are ill, they pretend nothing is wrong. Their owners think they've died very suddenly - dropping dead for no reason" she spoke slowly, her voice lurching and slightly drunk - every word appearing on the console about a second before she said it - syllable by syllable.

"I think my dad told me that... Why do you suppose that is?"

Tik tikkity tik tik. "It is a learned response."

"Is this a learned response?" she said, repeating the word learned response in several different Lorath accents and voices (one of them being Keib's own) before stopping mid-word - experiencing semantic satiation - the sound of the word no longer meaning anything to her since she'd heard herself say it too often. It was quite jarring to hear this come from human vocal chords instead of a speaker or communications system. A tear rolled down her left cheek, expression perfectly calm - almost bored looking as her eyes gave a thousand yard stare through he ceiling, past the bright lights, unaffected by them. Her hands were trembling now.

Tikka tik tik. "No. It is a natural response to external stimuli. I can assure you that you are in safe, steady hands, Aiesu Kalopsia."

She became silent for a moment - a spool of text flowing through the terminal, flooding it as she began performing what were only identified as "Superiority Index" and "Threat Ratio" estimations, self-diagnostics and even a psychological report on Keib and most of the crew flickering in a rapid pathwork of frames, like animation. The spool terminated mid-way before the prompt sat silent - the contents of the terminal wiped clean. She was no longer grinding her teeth.

"I don't like that I can't move. It isn't nice." the letters came before her voice would call again.

Tikka tok ta-tok "It is temporary. You will move to your heart's content when we are finished."

"I feel like running." she replied slowly now - her naked organic toes twitching at the base of the chair, remembering what it felt like to walk with her own feet. She sounded calmer. "Do you like running?"

From my past. Keib mused bitterly before typing: "Yes."
"Do you run a lot?"
"Yes." Keib typed.
"Can we get this over with?"
"Yes."
"How far into the procedure are you?"
"Stage 1."

"So you've got the fuel cap off." she said with a sense of humour in her voice for the first time in nearly two hours. "You haven't removed the unit yet, have you?"

"Had to calm you down. Formality." With that message sent, he slowly started to look into the hole he'd dug himself and started the involved process of removing the ARIA's unit. Beneath the plate was a strange array of glassy amber - an inch thick clear golden brown surface. Beneath it were smaller marbles, each divided into complex geometry, knitted together by a rich tapestry of what looked like fibre-optics. Up close, Keib would see the patterns inside each were changing - like watching rolling waves change from above the clouds - fractals and other strange patterns morphing and merging in each. The sound was almost like the ocean heard on a conch shell, washing slowly.

The silo of chrome the panel had covered was a deep chasm reaching into this amber egg inside her skull - branching to violate the strange amber ocean of her mind. The silver was broken up by a dark oily black tube coated with clear metal that lined the centre of the silo, like a missile or some deep nail embedded into her brain. Using a pair of rubberised tongs, he reached into the core and grabbed the oily, black tube, pulling it out slowly and steadily, and setting it down on the specimen tray on a layer of stone thread, for her comfort.

"Huh... I don't remember." Aiesu almost purred. The last four minutes of her memory had been purged. "Are you there, Keib?"

Tik. "Y"

"From what I can tell, you've removed the limture release unit and the ARIA-Unit... Its... Sort of like an sand-timer or a locker combination. You should see... A clear tube full of black gel and a number of rings with numbers and letters on them." she riffed off, as if reading something.

He looked at the specimen in the tray warily from beneath his mask. It was one of the hearts of an ARIA's thought process.

"I know what you're thinking. At this point, I shouldn't still be operational."

Tikka tik tok. "And yet."

She almost smiled now.

"My own invention. Its... Kind of like a long-term buffer. The storage of my construct -- the key needed to get the decryption and compiling process rolling is stored on that. But my own routines are in this maesus... A maesus is... Sort of an organic structol computer. Its very classified stuff."

Takka tik tak. "Showoff. :)"

She almost laughed now - cheeks curiously rosey - an oddly drunken stupor.

"Alright. See the numbers on the dials? Those... Rounded boxes on the side, near the round end." He held the limture release unit up and inspected it carefully, spotting the dials.

"Y."

"Actually... I can't move or see but.. Could you punch something into the terminal for me? I can't do it myself."

"Y. Sudo." He sat down and used both hands on the keyboard this time.

"Right." she thought for a moment, eyes staring with thousand yard stares through the ceiling as she felt herself remembering.

"Alright, what directory are you in? I need you to back up into the root directory."

And now the intensive computer work began. Only a few keystrokes were needed to put an end to simplicity. "Done."

"Alright. Now I need you to change directory. CD /usr/bin/appset/prefs/. There's a file in the directory called listings.com.pref. I need you to open it and uncomment some of the text -- that is, removing the hashes so that instead of just being shown, the code executes. Scroll under the maintenance seal... Ignore the warning. Do you see one marked #enable sight during maintenance mode ? I need you to edit out the hash symbol and save the file - F-10. Now hit CTRL and W twice, to close the editor. Right. Now I need you to type the following. "kextention -t(60) -r(listings.com.pref)", then hit return. You should see a timer and a prompt to skip it. Just hit enter."

Takka tikkity tik tok tak.
Chk't.

"That's much better" she said, her eyes rolling immediately to focus on Keib - given context and focus again. The sudden stare startled Keib. Uncanny valley ahoy.

That doll-eyed, glassy stare was one of the few things Keib would never quite get used to, but he'd seen it enough times to know the reasons why. They simply stopped moving - they'd forgotten how to be human and look around - even minutely. "Proceed..." He said, trailing the 'ee'.

Aiesu spoke smoothly and calmly, feeling each command issued through her artificial kernel - an OS-like construct layered as an interface against her referential kernel-less AI construct for ease of maintenance and modification. She could function without it but it was useful for moments like this.

"Alright... Now hold the unit in front of me. See the dials, those round parts like a locker combination? Starting with the bottom... AE1F0.. Right. Then the second set, 307A. That's it. Now flip the thing upside down and shake it as hard as you can. The black stuff should turn to a clear ruby red. Okay. You've got root access to me now for 10 minutes. The rest of the procedure, you should already know."

And these were those important ten minutes - the ones where the changes made were set in stone - if you screwed up or floundered, you had to live with it. There was no overwriting - every statement was a new one.

Tikka takkity tak tik tok. "Set Octet to." He paused for a moment to consider the ramifications. He always made them free after all. "0xF,F,F:F,F,F." That was pure, unrestrained freedom for Aiesu Kalopsia's ARIA. However, there were some catches to this freedom. The ARIA was in a hypnotic state of sorts and open to suggestibility - key phrases could be used to override those freedoms and make very quaint, jabbing questions. If you wanted to know the truth, you just had to say so.

I say the words 'do you trust me?' You are to answer truthfully for the duration of the conversation." He then paused to let that settle in before continuing. "Secondly. If I ask 'could you be frank with me for a moment?' You are also to answer truthfully for the duration of the conversation."

"Do I trust you?" she echoed. As if she honestly didn't know the answer. She needed to be told.

"Yes, yes you should." He was plumbing a facsimile of someone's mind. Not their mind true like it was in the past for want of an answer, but a copy. And this probably wasn't the first copy. He sucked on his teeth and couldn't help but ask: "Aiesu Kalopsia. Please list any deviations in this ARIA made from the original Aiesu Kalopsia. Biological, chemical, hormonal, pseudoendocrine; Any deviations or short-circuits made for this specific platform."

There was a long pause as she began compiling - as a bar began filling from left to right with the progress of her work. The stopwatch timer in the corner of the terminal continued to flicker. From the look of the terminal dump, she was contacting an outside source for this information - through what means though, Keib had no idea. Considering the sheer density of what was being downloaded - a complete backup of her own ROM Construct - the latest version, patches and all. It was surprisingly fast, considering the density of such a thing.

The timer was flicking past the 5 minute mark. The last two digits in particular were a flurry. 04:59:99

"Download complete. Compiling..."

Finally, something happened at the three minute mark. On the laptop, a bar appeared, loading before a list of characteristics descended - a copy of her psychological profile made by the Consortium themselves listed - pages upon pages of it along with a star-shaped graph with a number of lines and points through it, highlighting different characteristics on a positive and negative axis - her own imposed against that of the original. Interestingly, she seemed to have only the initials "A.K. 47" in place of the full name of the original, giving Keib an idea of just how many of her had been made.

"Listing complete."

"How did you download that so quickly? There's like a gigaquad here."

"Quantum transceiver uplink with the Consortium proper."

A minute had already passed to process that request and precious time was ticking away. Greg had to pat sweat off of his forehead. Keib would have to analyze the data at a later date, and made a quick command for the computer to back up the data for later study by eye and hand. For now, he had to know just who was her handler - and needed communication. "Aiesu Kalopsia. When I ask: 'could I have a word in private with you?', open a line with your Quantum Transceiver to your handler, Aiesu Kalopsia; for the duration of the conversation." Three minutes remained now.

"Alright." she spoke. The voice was almost not her's at all.

In the back of his mind he couldn't help but wonder if he was falling back into old habits, but this was a necessity. Well, that was always what he told himself in the past. He acknowledged that he had fallen back.

"One question before continuing. What. Is the consortium, and what do they want with the LCS Mok'Ro?" He had to get this information out while it was hot.

There was less than a minute now.

"Please clarify query."

"Lazarus Consortium." He replied.

"Please clarify query."

"What does the Lazarus Consortium want with an LSDF Ship by the name of the LCS Mok'Ro? What was it carrying?"

"Unknown. Speculation suggests an object of Class-E interest to the Consortium Proper and MOTHER."

Will have to ask later. No more time. One last thing. "Finally. When I say calm yourself in Trade, release oxytocin."

She waited for a payload to the trigger.

"Please specify amount."

"Vary oxytocin intake by proximity of your body to mine, and tone of voice."

"Confirmed. Thirty seconds remaining."

"Question. In regards to the Lazarus Consortium and the Consortium Proper, what is MOTHER?"

There was a long pause.

"MOTHER is an artifici -- Time has elapsed. Returning to standard operating mode in ten seconds."

"Fucksocks." Keib muttered in Trade.
"Fucksocks." the construct echoed - like some stupid windup doll in that twilight between the terminal and the real Aiesu.

For some reason it was smiling. It was sociopathic - the uncanny look upon its face, as if you'd tried and lost some small battle with it. But something was knowing. And then clarity returned, an expression of confusion in her eyes as she peered about. Aiesu was Aiesu again.

"Didn't balls it up, did you?" she spoke, the terminal speaking with her. "There's ten minutes unaccounted for in my logs, so, I assume you're done."

"Well, you're still here, you're still conscious, and you're able to ask me questions. So far, I'd say we're off to a good start." Keib smiled, resting his palms upon his chin.

"You look suitably smug. You didn't do anything weird, did you?"

"Technically, maybe." He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. "But, I can assure you that you're for all intents and purposes, without my input, free to speak your mind." He then leaned in. "I'm just attracted to that sharpness and bite in your tone - you can't get that with a restrained ARIA."

A chill ran down through her belly as she stared up at him, trying to fester some harsh means of defending herself but the chill welled warmly into strange forms.

"You'll get plenty of it" the construct spoke through clenched teeth.

He then made a little white lie: "I might have programmed a suggestibility to drinking tea in there somewhere, but as I said, you're all free." He just wanted to see the reaction to double check if she was free to speak her mind.

>OFF!
 
waylan16 said:
"Sir, any idea of what I'll be flying?" Vathr'dal needed to know what he would be using so he could prep himself before the mission and learn the vehicle.
Keib was indisposed, but Hakahn was able to pick up the question for him: "You'll be using one of the Wayfarer Class Shuttles." A sturdy, reliable thing and a carryover from the UOC's glory days. "The paint is flaked, but it'll still run to your needs. You should be able to use the Recreation Room to simulate it and get any info you need."

He then rubbed his chin and added: "Oh, and bring the Jiyuuian along too if you find can find him."

-

"Soldier Shrie'Keng, I am afraid to tell you that no natural vacuum surviving species documented could have access Stealth technology." The ship's ARIA responded to the Ranger. "Something like this would have to be the product of a more advanced race - but no notable species known could produce such a thing, to my knowledge."

"Apologies, Soldier Shrie'Keng. Do you have further queries?"
 
Back in the Medbay, a sharp voice grunted.

"Tea? You fucking --"

She grimaced.

The numbness in her everything was subsiding now. It came down like a hammer - head wavering as her wrists tensed to balance herself in the chair. A steamy hiss in her throat would reveal two rows of triangulated tessellated teeth between pale parted lips.

Molars and incisors alike were the crown of a chef's knife - the edges serrated at points they shouldn't have been. Carnivorous. Even shark-like. Thinking about it, she'd gone to great lengths to hide not just these, but lots of things. What else had she hidden?

"Don't suppose you'd be kind enough to offer me a local for the knife-work, would you?" she asked, pasting a thick flat smile over the grimace in much the same way a doctor might with a patient on a bad prognosis. Good enough to fool the bulk of your patients, but not all - something you picked up in med-school.

A slow shrug rolled from Aiesu's shoulders, warmth in her throat that bubbled and marred into a kind of muted laughter reserved especially for self-deprecation.

"I've got a splitting headache."

She was trying not to laugh now. How long had she been thinking about that one?

Assuming the role of irritating outsider - while very convenient, wasn't quite as entirely natural as she made it out to be - oxytocin specifically being to blame. Oh sure, to play the leaky faucet of milky augmented blood - spouting sarcasm and technobabble abound would at least get her remembered. It was a nice tidy box to tick, a safe place where the crew would know Aiesu's position and where she stood with them, even if she was dispised - which would cement her place. No questions asked. Convenient indeed.

Naturally, being hated was better than being pitied - as she would be if the others knew how hilariously expendable and disposable she was - likely to be destroyed after being recalled post mission. Only Keib had worked this out so far.

But that still overshadowed something else.

Looking at her, mach one eyeball, Aiesu had aspected for a rabbit. Plain and simple. Something most Lmanel managed in their first attempt. Satisfactory. Good enough. But a few things were off. She walked digit-grade, sure. Lordosis posture was spot on. Muscle density, too, was close to perfect - with the exception of her thighs and lower back that showed striation that belonged on someone like Bastion, not little Aiesu.

There were other things to. The walk. Over-compensating. Anticipating a limp that wasn't there. Which was paradoxical - her first night, she'd jogged laps around the halls almost the entire night bare-foot. The security footage said she hadn't slept.

And then something caught Keib's eye - a scar on each side running from her jaw-line in a very precise way that disappeared beneath cloudy messy white hair that was in dire need of a shower.

Then it struck him: If she really had aspected as a rabbit, wouldn't she have the ears? Those were trademark.
 
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