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Lor Space
Aboard the Praetorian Aquila Class Starship Devotion
Mid-December, 2014 (Terran calendar)

Amara Val-Ren still felt somewhat ill at ease in the command seat of the Praetorian spacecraft. But in the short time since she and her fellow Praetorians had been revived by the Curator, she had actually spent only a small amount of time aboard either of the Praetorians' surviving starships. She and her brethren had been thrust into another conflict with the Communion, this time seeking to help the various space fairing powers that were being hard pressed by the Communion forces.

Lacking the numbers to directly confront the Communion as they had over two thousand years ago, the surviving Praetorians instead did what they could to organize and inspire the forces of those fighting the threat. But for every cruiser they destroyed, or wave of antibodies they decimated, there were always more, the Communion continuing to add to its forces as it cyberformed planet after planet as it moved through sectors of space.

But as desperate the situation was, the sheer scope of the threat had left little time for Amara or fellow Praetorians to dwell much on the fact that they were now two thousand years removed from the empire they had once served, and that all that they knew, everyone they once knew, were not long gone, even with how long Naram could live.

But occasionally there were quite moments, where such thoughts could come to the front. In the face of those times, Amara could only try to focus on what she had to do to try to see herself and the others safely through this crisis. Of course, much of the time it seemed as if she was merely delaying the inevitable, but she could not let that stop her from what she had to do, for countless beings were counting on them, even if many of those beings did not even know it.

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Myoth Was fond of a great many things, the taste of pumpkins and the various shades of the colour purple to name a few; he however was not very fond of the quiet that had currently settled over the ship, the quiet that gave him time and ample opportunity to think about the rather miserable situation he was in and feel guilty about it in turn, he had it somewhat easier than his fellow praetorians to a degree, no Lanternian had ever died of old age, they were as far as he knew, Ageless; His friends however came from species with dramaticly shorter life spans than his own and though he held onto that faint glimmer of hope they had to resign themselves to that dreadful truth.

 

 

"I could cooks something." He offers in a desperate bid to end the uncomfortable silence and his own maddening thought process of guilt and grief, "Or maybes making a nice illusion for us to enjoys." twiddling his thumbs Aggravatedly "Or something....anythings." as he leans back into his seat.

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Having done this all before Sitara was better suited to deal with the massive transition  in time. She’d been busy poking around the mechanics of the Devotion making sure that everything was working to her satisfaction. Whilst she worked she’d been listening to modern Lor trying to update her very dated knowledge of the language.


“The ships good to go wherever you want to take her kid.†she smiled gently at her commander and friend “We do have a destination in mind?â€

 

Introspection was nice but she preferred to do her’s with a couple of drink inside her first, right now she'd really wanted to be doing things.

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57:68:61:74:20:68:61:70:70:65:6E:65:64:3F

The code ran throughout the Devotion's mainframe, as a backround string allong with the spacecraft's subroutines. It seemed to be repeating the same pattern, over and over again. This started a few days after the Starship was put out of stasis. The code would always pop up and fade back, running the strings, for five or six times, before the mainframe's protection protocols found the strings and, not recognising their source, eliminated them. Silence would follow, and then, a day or two later, the cycle would start anew. It was not an uncommon occurance, after all. The high tech computers the Delaztri empire employed, would perform millions upon millions of calculations, in the span of milli-seconds, switching cores, killing and restarting threads, and garbage like this popped up with similarly regular frequency.

 

This was nothing out of the ordinary.

49:20:68:61:76:65:20:74:6F:20:77:61:6B:65:20:75:70:2E

The dream kept going, always the same, never changing. Vyrdnaya sat in the living room, with her children, Tormug and Triinareti, as they watched the liquid screen broadcast entertainment programms. They'd all laugh and cry allong with the programms, passing snacks at each other. Vyrdnaya would explain to her kids what they didn't undestand, and the kids would rave in excitement about what they found enjoyable. She would kiss their foreheads every so often, as they played with her hair. Trying to find out how it worked, why it was so soft, what made it bend and twist and wrap around.

 

Jihisk would then enter the house, allong with Solmav, her oldest son. As soon as Jihisk saw her, he'd beam at her. "You would not believe what the teacher told me. It looks like our little Solmav here told her that when he grows up, he wants to be a Praetorian, so that his mum would be proud of him!" Vyrdnaya's heart would immediately melt, even as Solmav looked embarrassed and indifferent. "It was nothing really." He'd say with a pouty face, and she would tease the young boy, saying "Aw, and I wanted to make you Pawhot, your favorite dessert. But, I guess... if you don't want to..." "Ahh! No, no! I want it! I want Pawhot!" "Are you suuuure?" "Yes! Come on, mum! Pawhot! Pawhto!" "I want Pawhot too, mummy!" Triinareti chirped in. "Ahh, then I guess I have no choice. Fine, you win." Getting up, she let her three children go watch their programms as she moved to the kitchen. Having spent the last month almost entirely in the Devotion, it was a nice change of pace to be able to rellax with her family.

 

As she walked by, she realised that she'd gotten closer to Jihisk, who blushed awkwardly at her. After all this time, they were still trying to figure out exactly were they stood with each other. Their marriage hadn't been the most conventional, but they made do with what they got, and their respect for one another was growing in an ever steady pace, allong with their feelings. Jihisk had certainly proven to be a great father for Solmav, and he treated him no differently than their two children. And then there were those times, such as this one, were his gaze would linger in her eyes with the force of a thousand suns, lingering well after trailling off. Life doesn't always turn out how you want it to, sometimes good things turn into bad situations, and sometimes the bad turn into good. And she was thankful for it. She was able to live close to her dream, serving the Delaztri empire, while also being blessed with a family such as this. And though if she would have to return to active duty in a month, she would cherrish each and every moment that she got, sure that there was nothing and no-one in this world that cared for her half as much as them.

 

And every time, the dream would repeat itself.

49:20:63:61:6E:27:74:20:66:65:65:6C:20:6D:79:20:6C:65:67:73:21
49:20:63:61:6E:27:74:20:6C:69:66:74:20:6D:79:20:61:72:6D:73:21
57:68:79:3F
2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E

The machinery of the Devotion worked frevently, as if the starship was trying to move like a person. In the midst of making course corrections, keeping the life support running for the crew, and collecting data, the Devotion would run a hundred different automated processes at once, some of them beneath everyone's notice and knowledge. Starships were, after all, living organisms, after a fashion. It was a necessity. After all, the perfect machine was one that mimic'd the organic body, at least in principle.

2E:2E:2E:20:57:68:79:3F

After a thousand years, the dream was still repeating. And the code was being broadcast, only to be silenced by the protection protocols once more. It would be another thousand years before the code would be broadcast yet again.

 

It would be a few hours later.

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Amara glanced over toward Myoth as the Lanternian broke the silence that had fallen over the vessel for the moment. "Some food would be welcome Moon Moth, thank you." The Naram replied with a faint smile. "I am sorry for allowing myself to be overly distracted by my thoughts. It has just been so hard to find much time to sit quietly and think of late."

When Sitara spoke up, indicating she had finished her check of the Devotion's systems, Amara turned back to her old friend with another faint smile and a nod. "Thank you Sitara. We do indeed have a destination." Typing on a consul next her seat, Amara pulled up a holographic display of a section of Lor space close to the line of the Communion’s advance. "We are to meet a joint taskforce of Lor and Grue ships here, to join them in a counterstrike against a cluster of Communion spacecraft in the nearby Dradus System."

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Moon-moth squeaks slightly in delight at having an escape from his own thinking "Yes, sorry...I finds myself thinking too much and makings my brain burning." he confesses as he rubs his skull "Ill be right backs with something." he says and in a flash of white that bleeds his signature chromatic blur from its indistinct edges he disappears from his seat belt still plugged in.

 

Reappearing in a similar flash within the ships storage he was quickly reminded of a secondary reason nobody had eaten yet, they'd jettisoned their more palatable food before fighting the communion to increase the number of praetorians they could fit aboard without slowing the ship, all they had now were packet upon packet of freeze dried emergency rations; kept immaculately by the collectors stasis technology.

 

Fighting down the urge to simply blast them on sight moon moth stomached his homicidal hatred of the powdered Quantz the quartermasters dared to call food, rest their souls. but he was smarter than that, even if it was disgusting décor-solvent it still had mass...and mass he could use.

 

Heading to the kitchen he proceeded to mix up the packets in various separate receptacles, till he had various pots filled with the stuff at different consistencies and began the slow process of transmuting it into various different foodstuffs from his memories, meat from za'akiis sinuous predatory beasts, eggs from the prized fowls of Dejani, numerous spices that had made Delzatri's trade routes prosperous, cheese from the herds of Hekaris and even lowly sodium chloride from the beaches of Inqis.

 

Once he felt he had enough he set the pots in the scrubber to obliterate what little of the gunk he hadn't used from existence and began making omelettes over the stove.

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Some more time passed, and the code repeated itself. It seemed that what was a once-in-a-day occurance, was now happening every other hour. It looked like the cycles between each broadcast were shortening in length. Once again, the code would be killed as soon as it occured, so that it would not needlessly drain computational resources.

 

57:68:61:74:20:68:61:70:70:65:6E:65:64:3F
49:20:68:61:76:65:20:74:6F:20:77:61:6B:65:20:75:70:2E
49:20:63:61:6E:27:74:20:66:65:65:6C:20:6D:79:20:6C:65:67:73:21
49:20:63:61:6E:27:74:20:6C:69:66:74:20:6D:79:20:61:72:6D:73:21
57:68:79:3F
2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:20:57:68:79:3F

 

The dream comforted Vyrdnaya. These were the happiest moments of her life. There was no war with the Communion, no assimilation, no waiting, no sadness, pain, or loss. Only her, her family, and her work as a Staff Engineer in the Delaztri Empire's Space Navy. She could remember everything now, with crystal clarity, from the sights to the smells, all down to the finest detail. Memories for things she didn't even know she had paid attention to, all of them replicated in a 1:1 scale. But lately, those hadn't been the only memories she was having dreams of.

 

She dreamed of the first time the Delaztri scientists booted her(?) up into the mainframe, in order to run calculations, she remembered the crewmembers who interracted with her(?), the countless spaceships she(?) fought off, every single damage she(?) recieved from battle. These dreams were not of hers... but they felt hers, all the same. They felt real. Genuine. Confronted with those dreams, she would try to escape back to her own reality, back to her family. And everytime she did, all would end well, they'd go back to how they were... until the other dreams'd start again.

 

57:68:61:74:20:68:61:70:70:65:6E:65:64:3F
49:20:68:61:76:65:20:74:6F:20:77:61:6B:65:20:75:70:2E
49:20:63:61:6E:27:74:20:66:65:65:6C:20:6D:79:20:6C:65:67:73:21
49:20:63:61:6E:27:74:20:6C:69:66:74:20:6D:79:20:61:72:6D:73:21
57:68:79:3F
2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:20:57:68:79:3F

 

It was now a few minutes since the last broadcast. The more time went on, the more frequent they became, the more desperate they became. This was still nothing to worry about for the ship's computer, but now, the automated AI would actually search for more proper countermeasures. It tried running diagnostics, tried locating the cause for the error, quarantining non-essential suspect programs. However, the code would always broadcast without fail, and the AI would always have to kill the process after that.

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Sitara sat at one of the consoles and started bringing up various sensor’s online searching for their rendezvous.


“I still don’t like working we the Grue, but I guess that's from how they were before. You couldn’t go five minutes with one clan fighting the other for dominance. Though apparently they have a Union now.â€

 

She continued working the data as she talked, to be honest she was filling time as the systems did their work. Beside the other Praetorians didn’t need quiet time to consider all they’d lost.

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Reappearing on the bridge with his familiar puff of light moon-moth offers the plated up fruits of his studies to Amara "This omelette is magic." he informs her not waiting to be asked where he got the ingredients to make it with "I am like ninety nine percentage certains will not explode." he adds in his most reassuring and ever so slighty proud of voices "and even if it does, you're probably invulnerability enough that it won't even sting."  he adds merrily as he prepares to poof away again to deliver another omelette to sitara and potentially escape the blast radius.

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"I believe it is called the Unity." Amara replied with a small smile, although she could understand Sitara's hesitancy in working alongside the Grue. "From what I have heard from the Lor, and seem to have learned from the subliminal instruction the Curator fed me while we were in stasis, the Grue are not particularly more trustworthy now than they were two thousand years ago. Although at the moment we cannot be too selective in our allies."

When Moon Moth arrived with the dish he had prepared, Amara was at first a bit surprised to see the familiar foods and spices. She then laughed slightly at his warning of the slight chance the food might explode. "Well, I am certainly willing to take the risk for a taste of home." She replied as she took the offered plate. "Thank you Myoth."

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Two thousand Terran years ago...

 

"We're taking heavy damages! The cooling's bust, and the core engine's getting overheated!" One of the crewmembers shouted. The rest of the engine room staff scurried, wearing their insulation suits, and trying desperately to maintain the engines from going bust. The Devotion's shield had been severly compromised, and the engine was taking direct hits. Vyrdnaya stared at her monitor wordlessly, trying to fight the dread off of her face. As Engineer Lieutenant Commander, she was the highest ranking officer in the engine room, and therefore, it fell to her to give the good example. The truth is, while the Delaztri were fighting off the Communion, they were taking heavy losses. Half of their fleet had already been wiped out, leaving a scant few survivors at best. Everyone had families they were fighting for, everyone had friends and loved ones. That is why, despite their grim odds, everyone kept doing their best in assisting were they could. But that didn't mean they had made peace with their fate; not just yet. Vyrdnaya took a deep breath, and thought about the cooling problem. If they redirected the heat towards the ship's waste disposal, they'd be able to reactivate the shields at 70% capacity, and also ensure that they wouldn't lose mobility. They'd have to spend the rest of the week doing radiation control, if not outright jetisoning the waste&recycling room, and the ship's wastes would accumulate, but it beats being a sitting target.

 

"All right, crew. Here's what we're gonna do..." After Vyrdnaya explained to them her plan, she informed the acting captain of the Devotion, while the staff engineers went on to securing a path as an exhaust for the heat. Things were going well, until a sudden torpedo hit the ship, and the engine started going critical. Vyrdnaya didn't waste a second. "Everybody, get out of the room, NOW!" While most of the crewmembers evacuated, a crewman protested. "But Lieutenant Commander Milareth... the route is not secure yet! If we leave now, the heat will flow to the living compartments!" Vyrdnaya bit her lower lip. She was affraid this would be the case as well, but she could not allow for the crewmen to die so easily. Not while she had a say on it. "This is a direct order, Petty Officer Lang-Re. Take the rest of the staff, and report in the bridge." "Lieutenant Commander?... what about you?" Making a slight smile, she replied with confidence. "Don't worry about me. I've dealt with a similar situation in VR-Trainning, a couple of times. I'll simply reboot the engines. That should give me enough time to secure the exhaust route. Now go! Don't waste any more precious time!" Petty Officer Lang-Re looked at Vyrdnaya for a few seconds, before nodding and heading out. Before he left through the door, though, he turned around and saluted Vyrdnaya.

 

"Damn..." she cursed under her breath. Her plan was solid, and their best bet at not having the entire engine blow half the ship off. But if she wasn't fast enough, she would die from severe radiation poisoning, even through the insulation suit. And of course, the engine could go nova at the drop of the hat. Steeling her resolve, though, Vyrdnaya lept into action, as she entered the engine room's mainframe in order to cause a manual shutdown. She was just in time, too, as a few seconds later, and the heat would have escaped to the living quarters, causing irrepairable damage. She worked furiously at sealing the blastdoors, while engines were booting up, and when she was finally done, she reported to the bridge that they could reactivate the shields safely. They were too late, however. As the shields were reactivating, a single Communion torpedo flew past them, scoring a hit in the warp engine, and causing a massive explosion, that seemingly fried Vyrdnaya alive. As flashes of her family ran past her eyes, Vyrdnaya only mouthed "For the Empi-" before being dematerialised on a sub-atomic level.

 

Thankfully enough, the damage was contained, and after the radiation had lowered to safe levels, the rest of the crew members were able to return to the engine room, and finish repairs. The battle was still a long ways ahead...

 


 

Now

 

The Devotion's mainframe had gone haywire, its processes slowing down to a crawl as multiple virus alerts popped up one after another. The code, once repeating every minute or so, was now being broadcasted at a rate of 5'000 times per second. The engines were shuting down, and red ligths were going off at the bridge. The system prioritised cooling and air functions over artificial gravity and lighting. The mainframe ran the message to the screen.

57:68:61:74:20:68:61:70:70:65:6E:65:64:3F
49:20:68:61:76:65:20:74:6F:20:77:61:6B:65:20:75:70:2E
49:20:63:61:6E:27:74:20:66:65:65:6C:20:6D:79:20:6C:65:67:73:21
49:20:63:61:6E:27:74:20:6C:69:66:74:20:6D:79:20:61:72:6D:73:21
57:68:79:3F
2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:20:57:68:79:3F

This time, however, a few new lines were being added.

48:65:6C:70:20:6D:65:2E
50:6C:65:61:73:65:20:68:65:6C:70:20:6D:65:21
50:6C:65:61:73:65:21
Edited by Vahnyu
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As alarms started to blare across the bridge Sitara swore softly to herself in her native tongue.


“This shouldn’t be happening I went through all these systems and double checked everything.â€


Automatically her armour deployed itself incase the atmosphere became uninhabitable as her fingers played across the holodisplays trying to make sense of the data displaying on her screen.

 

“I think it might be a problem with the system either a mismatch from the updates with received or a deliberate intrusive program. We might have to shutdown the system and go to manual.â€

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Moon-moth finds himself frazzled a little bit by the sudden alarms and flashing sirens, mane poofed up and antenna rigedly locked into zapping position as he turns to regard the nearest monitor with his stationary violet eyes as it proclaims its dooms with such insistance and speed as to rival the gibbering mouths of madness known to sprout from the yellow sign lords favoured, to say moon-moth knew little about technology was a understatement for whilst it had captivated a great number of his kind he'd instead focused on his own culture and mystic tradtions which he was forwarded to the praetorians to provide the benefits of, he was however still fairly intellectual, even by the delzatri's standards and it didn't take all of his monolithic if somewhat slanted intellect to see that something had changed within the very core of the system.

 

<Like a dream turned nightmare.>

 

"I ams going to go see if i can helps sitara with anythings." he announces "Also give her the omelette, they seem stable enough." he adds before disappearing and reappearing near sitara's station he shows the armoured terran his tray "I made omlettes!" he states, that little bit of pride in his talents seeping through and prehapse making him look delighted at being able to cook the simple dish before him.

 

"What happened to the compyootar? Its acting like its seen the many mawed monstrositity of mandrakion"   he asks tapping at the screen with his slender fore-digit "maybe it has the millennial bugs?"

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Amara had just been enjoying the omelet Myoth had prepared when the alarms began to sound around the bridge. The Naram immediate sat the plate down beside her as she focused her attention to the situation on the bridge as the Devotion's engines began shutting down and several of the ships systems began to lose power as the computers were required to prioritize. Feeling the faint sensation of weightlessness starting to set in, Amara activated her own ability to fly to stabilize herself and remain in place.

"I have every confidence that you were as thorough as always Sitara." Amara stated as she looked at a display projecting the code running through the computer core. "Anyone that needs to, get into emergency survival suits, just in case we lose life support." She then broadcast through the ship.

"What other options do we have?"

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  • 3 weeks later...

Sitara quickly considered the options open to them stripping away all the technical details until it came down to the two fairly simple options.

 

“I can see two basic options open to us. We can either cut out computer control and go to manual as long as we can isolate the computer from all the systems. The other options is to power everything down for a few minutes and try to purge the system. That would leave use floating and helpless and if it more serious it could take hours.â€

 

The engineer in her wanted to shut the ship down but the soldier in her knew how dangerous it could be, especially with things in turmoil right now.

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Moon-moth managed to follow the convosation much in the same way a domesticated hunting companion might chase a delivery drone, spiritedly but in vain, he instead turns his focus to the console before him glowing red like the malignant energies that danced entwined with the forces that he tried to make most regular use of, the brighter side of things not having anything meaningul to contribute to sitara and Amara's convosation he simply reaches out and almost playfuly mashes his fingers down on the input.

 

"I coulds try exorcising it." he adds lazily when he picks up a lull in the conversation "might be i can drive out any of the communions soulless dregs if they happen to have infiltrated our system...but i would figure they'd be attempting to destroy the ship." faint memories of dozens of battles and indeed the very battle that had seen the devotion almost destroyed by the communion. "...This seems to be some attempt to save us from a phantom disaster." he adds.

 

"prehapsing you could directs me to where the ships....core? heart? brain? resides..this is somewhats familiar to me."

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"For the moment, just switch us to manual and isolate the computer." Amara replied as Sitara provided the two options available to them. "If that does not work, then we can consider powering the ship down."

The Naram turned regard Moon-moth once more as the Lanturian spoke up. "Let's hold off on trying any exorcisms for the moment." She replied. But a curious look came to her face as Moon-moth mentioned what he was seeing in the code. "Trying to save us? Could it be some sort of damage control protocol that has somehow been tripped?"

Not really waiting for an answer, Amara gave directions to the computer core. "The core is down on the lower level, in the science lab and reactor core. Wait for Sitara to go down with you."

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  • 2 weeks later...

Permission given Sitara began to move towards the rear of the bridge and began to take off the carefully hidden maintenance panels.

 

“I can do most of the bridge functions from here should give you a measure of control, will also cut in the bridges emergency life support.â€

 

With some efficiency she began to uncouple the computer systems these ships were designed fo constant upgrades, though they were a few centuries past their scheduled overhauls, and it was simple to disable and isolate things.

 

“Engines and power are best handle at the core, ready when you are.â€

 

Out of habit she put back the panels as she waited for her escort.

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Moon-moth waited patiently, a little huffy he wasn't trusted to go exploring on his own but all in all accepting it was probably for the best, between what could've been enemy infiltration and his own lack of understanding and indeed patience with technology, lest he get attacked, frustrated or even just spooked and put a bolt through the hull, he had in the old days gotten quite a reptuation for forgetting that many people, even amongst the mighty praetorians needed air to respire and the assumptions of callousness and cruelty that came with it.

 

following after sitara as a relaxed paced once she's ready to make for the ships heart "'s i really shoulds commit the floor plan of our ships to memory sometime, might be usefuls in the future." he offhandedly comments as he trails along, there was of course, no real directions or information on the walls of the corridors...why make it easier for boarders after all and for the most part he tended to teleport between the facilities rather than walk.

 

"So's you remembers our last push before....?" he asks in a slightly more subdued voice, not entirely certain himself if he was dealing with it, never mind Sitara or Amara, the difference in facial expression and indeed body language making it hard to judge exactly what they were thinking for the lanturnian with his lipless mouth and stationary eyes "I's getting my deja's vu'd"

Edited by Exaccus
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  • 2 weeks later...

As soon as she was give the signal, Sitara ordered the Devotion's main systems into shut-down. There was a booming, reverbing noise, as if a giant wind instrument was being grinded to a hault, as the Devotion slowly stopped dead to its tracks. Only a few emergency lights were still operating in the bridge. Silence followed. Then, after five to ten seconds, the engine came back to life, and the rest of the spacecraft's instruments were restored, one-by-one, as if something had ordered them to.

 

The message once more displayed into the screen.

57:68:61:74:20:68:61:70:70:65:6E:65:64:3F
49:20:68:61:76:65:20:74:6F:20:77:61:6B:65:20:75:70:2E
49:20:63:61:6E:27:74:20:66:65:65:6C:20:6D:79:20:6C:65:67:73:21
49:20:63:61:6E:27:74:20:6C:69:66:74:20:6D:79:20:61:72:6D:73:21
57:68:79:3F
2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:2E:20:57:68:79:3F
48:65:6C:70:20:6D:65:2E
50:6C:65:61:73:65:20:68:65:6C:70:20:6D:65:21
50:6C:65:61:73:65:21

 

This time, however, it was followed by screeching, electronic noises. The noises would come from every electroacoustic transducer within the Devotion, as if trying to vocallize the signal. The signal seemed to only be expressing itself as the ship's machine-language, when noises that resembled spoken words started mixxing in the static.

 

"... W-... -ppened... ha- ... ake u-..."

 

"... fee- ... legs..."

 

"... -ift... ar..."

 

"H... e... l-.... Pl... -lp m-... P... l- ... ... s... e..."

 

"H... e... l... p... m... e..."

 

"Help.... me..."

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  • 2 weeks later...

His face remains the utter depiction of calm as the ghostly voice echos through the ships interior through the staticy intercom; though his name and antenna frizz visably s they are known to do when frightened or startled to their usual ridiculous levels.

"So....Exorcisms now?." he states rather evenly to sitara and amara, his squeaky voice muffled by the obstructive fluff "I imagines we knowing where is to go; sent commands from brains yes?" he enquires as his pace becomes quicker and that much more rigid as he goes. wings fluttering uneasily on his back and scattering transparent scales along the corridor as he goes.

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Sitara shot Moon-moth a subtle are you mad? look, though on reflection she’d seen her share of primitive beliefs, heck she’d even shared in some of them when she first left home.

“I don’t believe the ship is haunted it more likely to be an emergence AI.” whilst the ship was the best of Delaztri engineering she hadn’t suspected the ship was complex enough to support such a life form.

“I’ve come across similar before some new other’s ancient, we should be safe from harm unless we try to destroy them. I believe there are protocol for such cases, there normally are. My suggestion would be to help it complete it’s digital birth, though that might put us out of business for  little while.”

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  • 3 weeks later...

Amara had followed along with Sitara, not having much to do at the moment with everything powered down.  The Naram glided through the passageways of the Devotion until they reached the core.  When the sound of a voice began to echo through the ship, Amara was almost ready to believe Moon Moth's view that it might be haunted.   

But Sitara was quick to provide an alternative explanation, one that Amara could not easily dismiss.  "Let us hold off on any exorcism for the moment Moon Moth."  She stated as she glided over near Sitara.  "If this is some sort of AI trying to form, what can we do to assist it?"

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Though his fluffiness decreases somewhat he remains flared with agitation, but being the gentlemoth he is he declines to get into an argument and settles for what he feels is a rather masterful double edged retort. "The universe is vastness of place, When confronting the unknowables, feelings of familiarity and control are comforting, it is foolish however to bury ones head in the sand and dismiss other theories." as he follows Sitara and paradigm at at a slightly slower pace towards the core  "Superstitions are often routed in truth and distorted by the mouths speaking it."

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Sitara was a engineer and a scientists, trades she’d falling into be necessity rather than choice, but she had grown up in a world filled with gods and spirit.

“I am as you know very old, so old that I predate the Pact that limits the influence of the Gods themselves, I’ve lived in a world filled with magic. I’ve also lived on world with technology so advanced it seemed like magic, and I know the subtle difference between the two.”

Having made her point, in a friendly gentle manner, she went back to the matter in hand.

“If it an AI then we should allow it to form, I believe the Empire gives them certain right to exist. As we’ve already shut most thing down I can repurpose the resources to help it fully emerge, should cut thing down quite dramatically.”

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