Give me a couple hours. I'd really like to make a post but have to drive home from the city.
Dr Catfish Member
Robotics Expert
- Last Seen: 6 yrs ago
- Joined: 7 yrs ago
- Posts: 160 (0.06 / day)
- VMs: 1
-
Username history
- Dr Catfish 7 yrs ago
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
I actually really hate bios, so if you'd like to gather the scope of my skills as a writer, or see my interests: Simply talk to me.
I don't bite.
Much.
(Profile picture is from a wonderful artist named Circuithead: circuithead.deviantart.com/gallery)
I don't bite.
Much.
(Profile picture is from a wonderful artist named Circuithead: circuithead.deviantart.com/gallery)
Most Recent Posts
Nexus entered rather solemnly, wandering around like a lost sheep, cataloging the ship and its rooms. Eventually it began to call the engineering deck — more specifically the ship hold — its home. In the months spent in dock, it opted to sit dormant and in a state of hibernation at one of the work tables. Should a crew member attempt to speak to it, the tried and true "playing dead" method worked quite well. Occasionally, it would be seen tinkering on the work table or itself, refusing to even communicate or reveal their work.
It had quartered off the ship-hold for its own purposes. With what little material it could bring onboard, it opted to bring a small droid which hovered above the work table and illuminated the area, making chirps and beeps around Nexus. A clear access-way to an elevated steel work bench allowed the eight foot tall robot to stand and work. Since it had arrived, it sat in almost recluse from the remaining crew members, not wishing to intrude on their business as of yet. An incredibly large machine was off-putting to say the least — if they wished to communicate, they would come to it.
It had argued with itself that this was the best course of action — stay out of sight until the Captain of the ship ordered all crew to the briefing room. How could it remain in the sidelines if it were to be thrust into the lime-light? With a smooth turn, the machine hulkingly maneuvered its way to the briefing room. It entered and stood motionless, just to the right of the entrance.
The blue optic shone curiously over the Captain, Marino. Plates contracting and extending in minute movements, twin radar antennae twitching slightly. Its arms rested in front of itself, hands of one set folded over each other, with the remaining set doing the same but only lower.
It had quartered off the ship-hold for its own purposes. With what little material it could bring onboard, it opted to bring a small droid which hovered above the work table and illuminated the area, making chirps and beeps around Nexus. A clear access-way to an elevated steel work bench allowed the eight foot tall robot to stand and work. Since it had arrived, it sat in almost recluse from the remaining crew members, not wishing to intrude on their business as of yet. An incredibly large machine was off-putting to say the least — if they wished to communicate, they would come to it.
It had argued with itself that this was the best course of action — stay out of sight until the Captain of the ship ordered all crew to the briefing room. How could it remain in the sidelines if it were to be thrust into the lime-light? With a smooth turn, the machine hulkingly maneuvered its way to the briefing room. It entered and stood motionless, just to the right of the entrance.
The blue optic shone curiously over the Captain, Marino. Plates contracting and extending in minute movements, twin radar antennae twitching slightly. Its arms rested in front of itself, hands of one set folded over each other, with the remaining set doing the same but only lower.
(Apologies, on mobile and unable to type 100% properly.)
Nexus surveyed through blast shielding, the Dimensional Gate. It was a spatial anomaly which acted in similar fashion to a black hole without the intense density. The machine had taken to building a station around the anomaly in fact. Creating droids and robot frames under its own processors to conduct operations and experiments with the Gate. So far it had only lost thirteen frames. According to extensive experimentation, anything attached to the item that came into contact with The Gate, was sucked in as well. Where the frames or items went, was unknown as all contact was simply lost. The hole was man sized and tear shaped. Wide base and tapered tip that wavered in uncertainty. It was like staring into the sun. Awe inspiring, but absolutely disturbing and harmful to face longingly into.
The machine made a curious noise, plates on its head stuck outwards in surprise as the frame was roughly pulled into the Gate. Everything went swimmingly, information about the Gate's density and reaction to various materials. So far everything was "DISPLACED" so far. An explosion from the Development Wing made the machine snap its head backwards.
..If the Development Wing hand a cataclysmic explosion... In the blast, sixty machine frames went offline. The blast must have been wing-wide. Nexus began running scenarios instantly. The escape pods were hundreds of meters away. It had a few seconds until the entire station vaporized itself when the ionic stabilizer core lost coolant. There was only one possibility which very well could result in a faster deconstruction. The Gate.
With what remained of the machine frames, an order to separate the Development Wing was issued and completed by two simple droids stationed near the separating airlocks. Two fists simultaneously breached the glass ahead. Vaulting through the newly created hole, the machine broke into a dead run forwards, disabling the Anti-grav within The Gate chamber remotely. Upon entering, it held onto the floor of the station, haphazardly plunging a hand into The Gate as it heard the space-distorting warble of the stabilizer core going into meltdown.
.
.
.
An explosive expansion, space station warping in and taking its place, contents shifted heavily but all remaining. The Gate had disappeared and the station appeared to have gone through a blender. Wires sat hanging from the ceiling. Panels were simply missing. Every electronic system had appeared to have short circuited, except Nexus who appeared rather fine. Peering around the the eerie darkness, it decided that the first step was to activate the distress beacon and set up the auxiliary power.
It took an hour. The Distress beacon had quite a far broadcast, running off a battery which would charge off the auxiliary generator. While it waited for either pirate or rescuer; it would make moves to repair a small research corvette and repair a handful of machine frames to assist.
_______________________________________________
The space station is hardly bigger than a cruiser. It had four, but now has three wings. Research, Analysis and Implementation. These wings were rather superfluous and mostly if not entirely to science and logging. Only a few trinkets and pieces of equipment remained, but they were most likely broken. The station would appear to be heavily weathered and derelict. Almost nothing was left undented or undamaged. It appeared to be slowly rotating and moving towards an obscure direction. Only creeping along. But enough to be noticeable in the stillness of space.
Nexus surveyed through blast shielding, the Dimensional Gate. It was a spatial anomaly which acted in similar fashion to a black hole without the intense density. The machine had taken to building a station around the anomaly in fact. Creating droids and robot frames under its own processors to conduct operations and experiments with the Gate. So far it had only lost thirteen frames. According to extensive experimentation, anything attached to the item that came into contact with The Gate, was sucked in as well. Where the frames or items went, was unknown as all contact was simply lost. The hole was man sized and tear shaped. Wide base and tapered tip that wavered in uncertainty. It was like staring into the sun. Awe inspiring, but absolutely disturbing and harmful to face longingly into.
The machine made a curious noise, plates on its head stuck outwards in surprise as the frame was roughly pulled into the Gate. Everything went swimmingly, information about the Gate's density and reaction to various materials. So far everything was "DISPLACED" so far. An explosion from the Development Wing made the machine snap its head backwards.
..If the Development Wing hand a cataclysmic explosion... In the blast, sixty machine frames went offline. The blast must have been wing-wide. Nexus began running scenarios instantly. The escape pods were hundreds of meters away. It had a few seconds until the entire station vaporized itself when the ionic stabilizer core lost coolant. There was only one possibility which very well could result in a faster deconstruction. The Gate.
With what remained of the machine frames, an order to separate the Development Wing was issued and completed by two simple droids stationed near the separating airlocks. Two fists simultaneously breached the glass ahead. Vaulting through the newly created hole, the machine broke into a dead run forwards, disabling the Anti-grav within The Gate chamber remotely. Upon entering, it held onto the floor of the station, haphazardly plunging a hand into The Gate as it heard the space-distorting warble of the stabilizer core going into meltdown.
.
.
.
An explosive expansion, space station warping in and taking its place, contents shifted heavily but all remaining. The Gate had disappeared and the station appeared to have gone through a blender. Wires sat hanging from the ceiling. Panels were simply missing. Every electronic system had appeared to have short circuited, except Nexus who appeared rather fine. Peering around the the eerie darkness, it decided that the first step was to activate the distress beacon and set up the auxiliary power.
It took an hour. The Distress beacon had quite a far broadcast, running off a battery which would charge off the auxiliary generator. While it waited for either pirate or rescuer; it would make moves to repair a small research corvette and repair a handful of machine frames to assist.
_______________________________________________
The space station is hardly bigger than a cruiser. It had four, but now has three wings. Research, Analysis and Implementation. These wings were rather superfluous and mostly if not entirely to science and logging. Only a few trinkets and pieces of equipment remained, but they were most likely broken. The station would appear to be heavily weathered and derelict. Almost nothing was left undented or undamaged. It appeared to be slowly rotating and moving towards an obscure direction. Only creeping along. But enough to be noticeable in the stillness of space.
Oh we're starting? My bad.
@Hawlin
I was referring to my terrible writing. I've just been sitting here cursing myself cause I just realized you probably were meant to go after Jones to set the scene a bit more. Which was an oversight on my end.
You have a lot of description and mood setting, something I can never pull off. Your writing is fine.
I was referring to my terrible writing. I've just been sitting here cursing myself cause I just realized you probably were meant to go after Jones to set the scene a bit more. Which was an oversight on my end.
You have a lot of description and mood setting, something I can never pull off. Your writing is fine.
Sorry for terrible writing.
The machine hadn't spoken a word.
It was silent being brought onto the ship, silent as it viewed every compartment and room with monk-like secrecy. When called to the meeting room and informed to listen to a cryptic message, it made no quips or responses. It doubted the notion of even a single member surviving. The message was most likely on loop as a distress to draw in more ships to their doom. It was a simple trap and they were to fall in like a mouse hunting cheese. It had taken one of the most recluse areas of the ships to call 'home': The cargo bay. Stowing itself in a more dimly lit realm of eight by five by four. Affixing its feet into the floor and shutting power down to its optic, it became a statue, running numbers and calculations in its computational matrix.
It had taken a liking to feeling the 'heartbeat' of the ship, the steady humming flow of power. As if struck by lightning, the machine powered on the optic and began moving, around the time the Monroe jumped into hyperdrive. "Calculating ETA." It spoke lowly, the first words it had ever made.
"Maintaining current speed without delays; one day, two hours, seventeen minutes and forty nine seconds." It logged in an obscure memory bank. "T8NG0, encode ship overall cyber-defense software in bit-code. Transmit via physical link or external copy." It commanded, assuming it had better fill its role upon the ship. The machine rotated all four wrist joints like it was nervous, actually just verifying that they all still worked. It had been under shackles for months before being released here. Even small amounts of humidity from prison cells could make rust with time. It knew T8NG0 extensively. It was hard to miss AI's in ships, especially when it required an AI core for piloting orders. The machine could feel its presence as the power flowing to the room shifted to accommodate the AI viewing its contents.
Create sub-folder, begin log... Extract stolen dossiers: Error, encryption key required. Error, partial memory dump recorded. Error, encryption key lockout virus detected: Isolating... Purging.
It had seemed that the Committee had several contingencies in place. Nexus had not thought to take anything from the encryption area. It would be forced to actually.. Speak with these people. How miserable. The machine lurched to a stop immediately, just entering the Hangar. It would have appeared like it struck a wall. Recovery in progress. Scanning. . . . Unencrypted data recovered. Summarizing...
Logging stations, races and years aboard Monroe.
It would have to manually go to each crew-mates area of work and log information, a task too tedious to perform during an monitored jump into unknown space. With seamless movements, it maneuvered itself in the complete opposite direction down the ramp.
"T8NG0." It commanded, making a gentle leap over the hand rail to land with a rather harsh bang on an unoccupied platform. "Access to AI Core would provide additional resources. We would be more efficient in defending ship-wide systems against attack, offering additional tactics and situational awareness ourselves. Proposition created." It stated more than asked, although it preferred it that way. Speaking direct to another machine felt much more natural. Harboring its shell back into the secluded area it called 'home', it prepared to wait out the jump to the S.O.S.
____________________________________________________________
Neglecting to actually secure its feet into the metal paneling this time, it was torn from the ground and sent stumbling into the cargo door, roughly smashing its shoulders into the steel and leaving two dents behind. "Repairs later, T8NG0, provide sit-rep on current cruiser condition. We will move to control opposition craft systems." It stated, borrowing the opposing ships transmitters to invade their power grid personally. Wireless infiltration was much more difficult than physical, meaning that even though it could place itself inside and get a view, it would take minutes to properly access anything important. Rooting its feet to the ground in preparation for evasive maneuvers, it diverted most of its power to flooding one of the enemy ships, a randomly selected assault-class frigate, with random directives and continuous power-fluctuations. Anyone viewing the opposition, would see one ship list off slightly to one side, pointing a little away from the Monroe before firing its primary weapon and thrusting backwards slightly. It was as if the crew had gotten drunk.
Of course this was corrected readily by the ships engineer, as power fluctuations were locked out of the machines command, but that frigate was temporarily out of the fight. Rather than leave its own ship defenseless, it diverted a few processing cores to focus their attention in Nexus' body, monitoring the power-filled hum of the ship ready to counter if need be.
Attempting to breach enemy ship weapon controls; processing. . . ETA: 5 minutes for total, 3 minutes for partial.
It was silent being brought onto the ship, silent as it viewed every compartment and room with monk-like secrecy. When called to the meeting room and informed to listen to a cryptic message, it made no quips or responses. It doubted the notion of even a single member surviving. The message was most likely on loop as a distress to draw in more ships to their doom. It was a simple trap and they were to fall in like a mouse hunting cheese. It had taken one of the most recluse areas of the ships to call 'home': The cargo bay. Stowing itself in a more dimly lit realm of eight by five by four. Affixing its feet into the floor and shutting power down to its optic, it became a statue, running numbers and calculations in its computational matrix.
It had taken a liking to feeling the 'heartbeat' of the ship, the steady humming flow of power. As if struck by lightning, the machine powered on the optic and began moving, around the time the Monroe jumped into hyperdrive. "Calculating ETA." It spoke lowly, the first words it had ever made.
"Maintaining current speed without delays; one day, two hours, seventeen minutes and forty nine seconds." It logged in an obscure memory bank. "T8NG0, encode ship overall cyber-defense software in bit-code. Transmit via physical link or external copy." It commanded, assuming it had better fill its role upon the ship. The machine rotated all four wrist joints like it was nervous, actually just verifying that they all still worked. It had been under shackles for months before being released here. Even small amounts of humidity from prison cells could make rust with time. It knew T8NG0 extensively. It was hard to miss AI's in ships, especially when it required an AI core for piloting orders. The machine could feel its presence as the power flowing to the room shifted to accommodate the AI viewing its contents.
Create sub-folder, begin log... Extract stolen dossiers: Error, encryption key required. Error, partial memory dump recorded. Error, encryption key lockout virus detected: Isolating... Purging.
It had seemed that the Committee had several contingencies in place. Nexus had not thought to take anything from the encryption area. It would be forced to actually.. Speak with these people. How miserable. The machine lurched to a stop immediately, just entering the Hangar. It would have appeared like it struck a wall. Recovery in progress. Scanning. . . . Unencrypted data recovered. Summarizing...
Logging stations, races and years aboard Monroe.
It would have to manually go to each crew-mates area of work and log information, a task too tedious to perform during an monitored jump into unknown space. With seamless movements, it maneuvered itself in the complete opposite direction down the ramp.
"T8NG0." It commanded, making a gentle leap over the hand rail to land with a rather harsh bang on an unoccupied platform. "Access to AI Core would provide additional resources. We would be more efficient in defending ship-wide systems against attack, offering additional tactics and situational awareness ourselves. Proposition created." It stated more than asked, although it preferred it that way. Speaking direct to another machine felt much more natural. Harboring its shell back into the secluded area it called 'home', it prepared to wait out the jump to the S.O.S.
____________________________________________________________
Neglecting to actually secure its feet into the metal paneling this time, it was torn from the ground and sent stumbling into the cargo door, roughly smashing its shoulders into the steel and leaving two dents behind. "Repairs later, T8NG0, provide sit-rep on current cruiser condition. We will move to control opposition craft systems." It stated, borrowing the opposing ships transmitters to invade their power grid personally. Wireless infiltration was much more difficult than physical, meaning that even though it could place itself inside and get a view, it would take minutes to properly access anything important. Rooting its feet to the ground in preparation for evasive maneuvers, it diverted most of its power to flooding one of the enemy ships, a randomly selected assault-class frigate, with random directives and continuous power-fluctuations. Anyone viewing the opposition, would see one ship list off slightly to one side, pointing a little away from the Monroe before firing its primary weapon and thrusting backwards slightly. It was as if the crew had gotten drunk.
Of course this was corrected readily by the ships engineer, as power fluctuations were locked out of the machines command, but that frigate was temporarily out of the fight. Rather than leave its own ship defenseless, it diverted a few processing cores to focus their attention in Nexus' body, monitoring the power-filled hum of the ship ready to counter if need be.
Attempting to breach enemy ship weapon controls; processing. . . ETA: 5 minutes for total, 3 minutes for partial.
© 2007-2024