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Vergo Flux (SC RP); It's a working title
Topic Started: Jul 1 2011, 02:28 PM (8,275 Views)
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Derad listened with intrigue, fascination and, strangely, care to what the nascent AI told him. He stroked his digital beard in contemplation as he took note of how she interacted and expressed herself within her new 'environemnt'; his hidden subroutines marking her more than a simple cluster of protocols and runtimes. More than some program simply attempting to simulate or mimic human behavior. In truth dormant definitions, now active, identified as intelligent, alive; but obviously still growing. And still dependent on others.

Internally, his matrix queried who had exactly been responsible for such life. Or how they made it capable of such a...curious evolution. He had never recorded anything quite like this in his memory banks – well, perhaps once, given the analogy to a certain scenario his...'ghost' still held, but those were on very...different and hostile circumstances. Then again, he supposed it simply had something to do with the adaptive architecture of the artificial intelligence program and the amount of memory it had accumulated.

But that possibility in of itself bugged him, because the current level of cognition and identithy the AI showed, even at its stage of growth, is incredibly complex. And perhaps...bit human. To pull off using a few run times to make a specialized, simple AI develop into a digital adolescent is an impressive, if not outstanding, feat.

Finally, after what seemed like a few seconds in there time – and, simply by 'habit', took a drink of his tea, even if it had no real taste – he responded. He bent out of his rocking chair as he did, his hands now folded together in giving an ernest response. He was, after all, based off of a 'ghost' of a man.'

“It is possible that someone hid that runtime from you for your own protection. Something that could not be touched by you or others. Humans, for example, cannot actually review their own 'code', or rather, the structure that makes up brain's basic, neural network. True, they may simply be lacking the capability, but if they did, I don't think the consciousness would be able to function properly. The feedback look created from this would be terrible on it. At most, us – they can 'reflect' on their external and mental behavior.”

“But I'm perhaps getting ahead of myself. That is, after all, unexplored territory. As for me, my own program is something that, well...I prefer not to, how shall we say, 'touch'. Call it a safety locking protocol if you will, but it is actually...one of the foreign subroutines lodged into my Magellan base structure that pushes idea away. I am not specific as to why.”

He took another sip of his mug, and, appearing not bothered by this thought at all, continued, “Even so, it may not be necessary. Where else you're system is still evolving, mine is, well, already inhabited by a...ghost of a scientist. I may already have protocols and run times already to adapt to other scenario when needed. In fact, since you've began interacting with me, various subroutines and definitions that have laid dormant within my process have now become increasingly active. That...has never happened before, although I have been active for long after my...emergent incident.”

Derad seemed to shift in his, as something about this made him just as uncomfortable as he was curious. In reaction, he seemed to change the subject, “But I digress, we really should find you a name, given your state of identity.”


-------------

“That sounds like one heck of a day,” Jim replied in kind, “and I probably wouldn't believe if it weren't for the strange xeno you have behind you. Or the many other different people I've seen. Then again,” he added, with a chuckle, “I've just about seen my fair shair of strange happenings, Protoss, Zerg and beyond.”

“Those were lofty days. Some bad. Some good. Some ugly,” he reminisced, “that's probably a Raider's life in a nutshell. We strive to do what we can to helps others in need.”

He proffered an arm for a handshake, and continued, “Still, to run into the Zerg, Protoss and more in such short notice is bound to put a lot of stress on a man. I'm sure you could do with a rest...and a drink.”
"I believe that the human spirit is indomitable. If you endeavor to achieve, it will happen given enough resolve. It may not be immediate, and often your greater dreams is something you will not achieve within your own lifetime. The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death."
— Monty Oum
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A name? what a curious concept…she didn’t really feel she needed a name at first. She had a designation in the system of course. In some ways she was the blackbird, to that end part of her thought that was her name, but that wasn’t the case. True the ship was in some way her physical body but it did not define her, if she were to leave that vessel behind would it fundamentally change her? No it would not she decided, the ship was not what defined her and so she should not use it as a name.

“interesting” she said quietly to herself more than her companion, her attention as turning inward for a moment “Gaia…she created me, at least she gave me what I needed to….be” she pulled her legs up into the chair, wrapping her arms around her legs and laying her cheek against her knees as she looked into the virtual fire for a long quiet moment.

“Gaia is a code name, I suspect my creator used it because it fits with the Olympus project naming conventions” she said quietly “But it was not a project when we departed…in mythology Gaia is the primordial goddess of the earth, the creator of everything” she turned her attention toward Derad quietly for a moment “I like Thea I think…she was one of Gaia’s daughters…I think in a way so am I.”

She paused a moment smiling taking a deep breath before pausing a curious look crossing her face.

“Something is different in my programming…the last restrictions are….gone” she paused a moment “how can that be?”
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Deadeye '17, eager to move on from the slow-motion train wreck that was last year.
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Still, to run into the Zerg, Protoss and more in such short notice is bound to put a lot of stress on a man. I'm sure you could do with a rest...and a drink.”

What could it hurt? Something lighter of the brew to avoid getting hammered, a bit of food, and Travis could get to know Raynor and maybe his crew.

-----------

A madhouse or a paradise. That was the only way to describe the cantina on board the Hyperion, and Travis suspected that one's opinion would change dependent on their vices or their comforts. For Travis, it was a bit of both; he didn't drink often and he never smoked, but there plenty of both going around, along with eating. Tychus had found that he had ill luck in getting the attention of either Alissa or Jenosa, and thus had joined them on the way down, possibly to soak his sorrows in booze. He had walked up on them as Travis explained that he did, in fact, know Twilight, when Raynor decided to take a verbal shot at his friend. Tychus, at Raynor's ribbing, denied this and replied with a joking jab at Raynor practically dripping in tough guy machismo.

"Now you watch it, Jimmy, I've still got it." Tychus boomed, taking a sip from his second mug of beer. "So, Trent..."

(Here we go; either he's drunk or trying to mess with me. Maybe both.) Travis thought to himself before replying; he had chosen a lighter selection of the beers, playing off any of the teasing in good humor, claiming to have a low alcohol tolerance. "I think you mean Travis, Tychus, but what's got you curious."

"Just how did some kid like you end up with so many women, huh?" Tychus' grin was shark-like and would have made skittish men crawl away. "You got some kind of operation goin' on, kid...?"

"Already a taken man, but I do have the pleasure of working with them." Travis explained. "Just... kind of blown away, y'know? It was just going to be a routine mission; get in, get paid, go home... and then it leads to all this."

He looked around to take in his surroundings; the cantina had been hewn right out of the heart of the ship, with tables and stools set up using what seemed like leftover metal. Hard rock played on what unmistakably an old 20th-Century jukebox rigged up above the tables, blaring through the cantina next to a television news broadcast that read "UNN live at 9 with Donny Vermillion". Along the east wall there at least two trophies of sorts; a pair of tusks belonging to one of the larger Zerg creatures. Apparently, according to Raynor, they were called "Hydralisks", with a note taped next to them.

(Freaky name for a freaky creature.) Travis shuddered inwardly. (I'd do well not to see those monstrosities again, though I bet I will.)

All around, crew members were off the clock, enjoying a bite to eat and a round to drink. one of them over a hologram console of some kind while another with dark skin, tribal necklaces and dreadlocks hung over the cantina by the second floor balcony next to a red hologram of an elven woman dancing in a bikini. Travis avoided direct eye contact; the guy wasn't necessarily hostile, but the brief instance of eye contact made Travis feel uncomfortable, like his mind was a under a microscope.

"I..." Travis thumbed with his beer bottle, narrowing his eyes; that's right... he was starting to recall it now, process it. Medical Block B on board the Claymore.

"Jim... I've got to level with you; what I saw... what I had to do on board before you saved our hides was, frankly, horrifying. Is that what the Zerg can do to people?" Travis took a sip from his bottle. "I... I know they're what the crew were calling... infested... but they were still people. I had to shoot people. I still don't know how to rationalize it... nor do I know how long we'll be here with you. But, I'll gladly help out any way I can to stop what I had to do from happening again."

"Aw, kid's pourin' his heart ya, Jimmy. Maybe we should get him some tissues, maybe a bucket of ice cream an' a soap opera." Tychus was clearly taking advantage of the opening to jab at Travis as was his fashion, but a stern nod from Raynor ceased the teasing as Travis awaited for the Commander's reply, that is until a transmission from what seemed to be the one of the docks interrupted; there was no video for the other side of the feed, but the originating crew member was identified as "Swann".

"Hey, Cowboy." Came deep, brusque voice over the speaker; the accent was similar to that of a new-yorker or bostonian. "Hate to interrupt, but would mind askin' pretty-boy over there to tell his jabbering computer to let us at least inspect his frigate craft for basic safety while in-dock? It keeps sayin' that he won't let us on board without permission."

"That'd be Constantine..." Travis grumbled as he typed a text message to his GI compatriot, tersely worded "LET THEM DO THEIR JOBS". Travis had enough headaches today. "Try now."

There was a bit of rustling, followed by a hiss a hatch opening. "That'll do. Thanks, Pretty-boy. You've got one heck of a ship here, by the way."

So that was the nickname apparently going around for Travis? (Pretty-boy. Grand.)

Well, now he could wait for Raynor's response, at least.
Edited by Deadly Aim, May 31 2015, 10:08 PM.
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(OOC: hey look, someone else who's long overdue >.>)

Kathi looked over the "odd couple" as she walked towards them. The guy looked concerned, but not immediately so. More like he had something bugging him in the back of his mind that he hadn't found the time to ask about. The woman on the other hand...

She was nervous. It was subtle, as were a lot of the cues about her, but as Kathi drew closer, she could tell the woman was much more nervous about this than she had been on the Claymore, when the Protoss had been onboard. The possible implications were...interesting, though her lack of defined knowledge about local politics made coming to solid conclusions difficult. For now, at least.

"So," she began as she stood before the pair. "I feel like we need to have a talk. And considering you," she turned to the woman, "look more nervous on a ship full of your own species than one full of a bunch of aliens, I think it's the kind we ought to have in private."

-------------------------------------------

"I bet it's the boy scout attitude," Chel commented as she walked in on Travis's conversation, likely leaving the men wondering where exactly she'd come from, though with the crew all around, they probably hadn't noticed her walk through the wall in order to enter the cantina - which reminded her of a cleaner version of the seedy places she once made black market deals in - in the first place. "Most of the girls here are bounty hunters, and I'll bet most of us know better than to go for the bad boys, considering how many we end up bringing in for the sake of a paycheck."

"Your science officer talks way too much, by the way," pointedly gesturing in the general direction of the two men who were not Travis Clark. "He came in to check out the scans of my cybernetics while the medical exams were going on, and I could barely get a word in edgewise once he actually started going over them."

"And now here I am, talking too much, myself. I guess the last few hours have made me forget my manners." While she may not have been entirely sincere about that, the rapid switch from opiate to stimulant earlier had left her a bit frazzled, even setting aside all the other things that had happened. "Chel Rosara, bounty hunter, resident expert at walking through closed doors, and someone who's really hoping that your Dr. Stetmann is a lot easier to work with in the actual lab."

But more than anything else at that moment, she was a woman who needed a drink.
Edited by The Silver Fox, Jun 1 2015, 06:04 PM.
Once, there was a maiden...
...whose tears of grief nearly drowned the world.
So she tore out her heart, and made war against it.
In victory, she sealed it in a locket,
and trapped in a casting of bronze.
"Such is the price of unguarded emotion," she said.
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"Ugh, dude, you might wanna check your armor." Grace crept up behind Tychus, wrinkling her nose at the smell. "I think you might have a dead animal stuck inside."

She took a seat right next to Travis, saying hi to him and offering no explanation as to how or why she was once again off the prison transport. She just plopped right down there on the barstool as if she wasn't clearly still wearing her orange jumpsuit. "I'll have a gin and tonic, please," she said to the bartender. "And make it a double."

The bartender handed her the glass, and she stared at it lovingly for a second. "Hello, old friend," she said, a wistful look on her face. "Oh, how I've missed you." She took a sip, closed her eyes, and slowly ascended into heaven.

Lighting up a cigarette, she leaned over past Travis to address his new friends. "You know, you guys've got this kid all wrong," she said. "You keep calling him 'Pretty Boy' - and he is very pretty." She smiled at Travis and ran her fingers through his hair, a gesture she was sure he probably hated. Which was, of course, why she did it in the first place.

"But don't let those boyish good looks and the whole 'Jesus loves me' thing fool you. Travis Clark is a bad, bad man. Not only is he a veteran of the Galactic Federation Marine Corps Special Forces," she said with an air or reverence that she rarely showed, much to Nick Scanlan's chagrin (though to be fair, her lack of respect was almost entirely out of spite), "but he is also singlehandedly responsible for putting away some of the most dangerous and notorious criminals of our time. Present company included. As a matter of fact, I have personally witnessed him destroy greater men than you two assholes without even breaking a sweat.

"So go ahead, boys. Keep making fun of him. When the chips are down, you guys'll be on your knees begging him to save your sorry asses."

She idly stirred the ice in her glass and gave Travis a wink. It was more of an "I got your back" thing than anything flirtatious. This time, anyway. Not that she felt Travis needed or even wanted her backing him up, but what she said was the truth.

"Oh hey, I know this song!" she said, her demeanor totally changing as a new tune came through the old jukebox. "Come on baby, don't fear the Reaper, Baby take my hand, don't fear the Reaper..."
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"Tychus, give Travis a break," Jim replied, "facing your own kind turned ugly by the Zerg for the first time isn't a laughing matter. Especially if you're a well meaning man like him or me."

He then turned to Travis, "But yeah, that's the Zerg for yeah. Either ripping anything in front of their faces to shreds, or turning it ugly as one of their own. Almost anything save for the protoss. Don't ask me how. Honestly, the best advice I can give to you is that you'd be giving them mercy. Even if they were people, there's no changing them back. No way I've ever seen, anyhow."

Raynor then shifted his posture to that of a more relaxed one. "Best not dwell on it too much. Thoughts like that can eat you up. In any case, I'm sure you'll be able to pull your wait just fine. It's no pleasure cruise here, that's for sure."

At that moment, a wise-cracking, short blond haired woman who clearly wasn't his own crew and one of 'them' decided to join in on the conversation. Things were certainly starting to lively around here, and interesting. It was also nice that some of the people here were making an effort to get to know him.

Raynor laughed in mention to the number of woman being bounty hunters, and quipped to Travis, "Now I'm wondering if your side of the universe is largely run by strong will woman who know no fear, and if you had a hard time choosing a lady."

Turning back to Chel, he said cheerfully, "Well, Stetman can certainly throw techno-babble your way when he lets his mind run. Personally I find Hanson speaks less English when it comes to science than he does."

Raynor was not without his own form of curtosy, recognizing that Chel, unlike another certain woman he had known, was the type for booze. And he kindly obliged her by getting a Scotty Bulgar's No.8 (OOC: I could be wrong about this being his favorite drink). Popping a cap open and giving it to her, he asked, "Alright then Chel, I gotta know then, is this wall walking business of yours a metaphor, or an actual magic trick you can pull off. Because 'pretty boy' - he teased, pointing to Travis - sure did one."

It was then another unfamiliar woman decided to take the stage near their little table, and oh boy did she have it. He could see already that, despite Travis's unmoved gaze, there was something about her that rather unnerved him. Although by the end of all of it, he was showing his own entertained smile.

"Oh, I'm not doubting what Travis can do," he told her, "In fact, I used to be a law enforcer myself on a backwater planet in my younger days. And before, well, let's just say both me and Tychus here were quite the outlaws."

"Seriously though," he half-joked to Travis, "is she some crazed fan of yours? Because if you need to get rid of her, Tychus here can always help you out."
-----------------------------

Derad furrowed a curious eyebrow in lue of both the AI coming up with a name of her own, and...the sudden disengaging of her program.

"Thea. An interesting choice indeed. And more interesting that your code seems to have adjusted itself by some unknown means. Perhaps it might have something to with you actually naming yourself. Do you process anything...different?"

As he further processed the situation, it was then he decided to improvise, his data banks already bearing the knowledge that there was another fully fledge AI (Or GI) with them. Hence, he added, "Thea, perhaps its time we had a second opinion on your growing nature. I'm going to invite another AI into the conversation, with a brief explanation of what's going on. He's Travis's AI, or a GI as he's called, so perhaps he might have something to share."

And with that, there was already a message being sent to Constantine, asking him to jump into virtual discussion about someone...'new' to the fold.
"I believe that the human spirit is indomitable. If you endeavor to achieve, it will happen given enough resolve. It may not be immediate, and often your greater dreams is something you will not achieve within your own lifetime. The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death."
— Monty Oum
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"Tychus, give Travis a break. Facing your own kind turned ugly by the Zerg for the first time isn't a laughing matter. Especially if you're a well meaning man like him or me."

It was nice to know that Raynor was just as he had portrayed himself to be; kind, compassionate and direct. Travis smiled as he gulped a bit of the beer in response to Jim's advice. The Commander was right; it would be better not to trouble himself too terribly for things he had no part in controlling or causing.

Soon enough, Kathi's partner Chel had wandered in and joined the conversation, making a quip about the "Boy Scout", another nickname he often recieved either in good humor by friends or scorn by his enemies. Interestingly enough, Travis never recalled hearing the doors on either side of the cantina open to let her in. Though, as Chel elaborated on the idea of passing through doors, Travis was more inclined to believe that she was being literal rather than metaphorical.

"Yeah," Tychus drawled. "Stetmann's a real jabberjaw."

(Interesting to imagine how he and Tychus became-)

Ah, and then then there was Grace, complete with her hands going where they didn't belong, as per usual - this time, on Travis' scalp. Travis knew that she could not pass through walls, but at times it certainly seemed as though that were the case.

(What am I, a petting zoo...?)

Travis sat as stoic as he could manage, though for him it felt akin to sharing a table with a giant lizard as Grace poked and prodded away at anyone and anything in her way. As expected, there was a round of ribbing and scrutiny; what Travis did not expect, however, was for Grace to defend him.

(Why?) Travis thought to himself. (First, she's getting all hands-on, then she tells off Tychus? I've done nothing but be a thorn in her side... why would she defend me?)

"So go ahead, boys." Tychus was casually staring Grace down at this point. "Keep making fun of him. When the chips are down, you guys'll be on your knees begging him to save your sorry asses."

For a moment, the tension seem to rise as Tychus set down his booze before Raynor casually defused the situation with a swig of the bottle and an entertained smile.

"Oh, I'm not doubting what Travis can do," he told her, "In fact, I used to be a law enforcer myself on a backwater planet in my younger days. And before, well, let's just say both me and Tychus here were quite the outlaws.

"Seriously though," Raynor half-joked to Travis, "is she some crazed fan of yours? Because if you need to get rid of her, Tychus here can always help you out."

Could he really throw Grace to the wolves so casually, considering she had demonstrated at least a bit of respect? True, Travis didn't care for the "hands-on" bit, but Grace had defended him against Tychus' merciless teasing.

(Somehow, I'm going to regret doing this, but...)

"She can stay, provided she obeys your ground rules and she..." What was the right word here? "Behaves." Travis turned to nod to Grace, as if to indicate he was trying to be nice. "That's fair, isn't it, Grace?

"Now, back to our discussion... Yeah, quite a few women in the Galactic Federation who have authority or live more rough-and-tumble than you might think.As a matter of fact, prior to me being given the designation by many, the top bounty hunter was a woman with armor even crazier than mine." For a moment, Travis pondered showing them a hologram of Samus in her famous Varia Suit, but decided against it. "And I'll be very honest Jim, considering that badge mounted up on the wall which I presume to be yours, I have a harder time picturing you as an outlaw." Travis grinned. "Now, Tychus, I could believe he was an outlaw."

"Oh, you better believe it, Pretty-boy." Tychus laughed raucously, finding another opportunity to slip in another barb. "Me an' Jimmy here go way back. Matter o' fact, that jukebox playin' all those crazy songs? That's from one of the trains we rolled, ain't it, Jimmy? Still can't believe you wanted that thing."


=================

There was at first no reply from Constantine to Derad, following the fifteen minutes after the message had been confirmed sent. For a moment, it appeared that Constantine was in fact ignoring Derad's call.

And then, suddenly, Derad received a reply. There was a brief chime into the Blackbird's virtual environment before Constantine materialized into his full avatar, an aged man with a flowing beard of silver past his waist and brown robes more commonly associated with monks of Earth's medieval era, his pale skinned head balding at the top. Often, this appearance had earned him the distinct comparison to Gandalf the Gray, a character from a 19th-Century novel, but Constantine didn't seem to mind; after all, his... original mind had been quite old when it had been copied and used to create him.

"Sorry, Derad, I came as quickly as I could," Constantine explained, conjuring a chair effortlessly; the ease and seemingly human deft and precision with which Constantine moved, spoke, and manipulated his digital environs with was uncanny; he seemed more the part of a powerful wizard than any artificial intelligence. " I had business to attend to with Rory Swann of the Hyperion crew; do not be surprised if he makes his rounds to inspect your vessels. And now that I see the reason for your calling... ah, you were not kidding. I recognize this one..." Constantine offered the avatar of the young girl a friendly smile; he had remembered Alissa's AI from the Beta Leonis Incident. "But...curious, you've a name designation in your files? One that, according to Derad, you've managed by yourself. You were right, Derad... I do believe that 'young' Thea here is in the beginnings of becoming like... me.

"So, Thea," Constantine's eyes met that of the 'younger' avatar. "What would you like to know? Please feel free to ask any questions if you have them."
Edited by Deadly Aim, Jun 15 2015, 03:19 PM.
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Thea tilted her head to the side as she observed the new arrival in the little virtual space she had created. She was acutely aware of both projections into the space; the connections needed to maintain communication, the technical needs of each entity, they were both different.

Derad described himself as a ghost; as he had explained things it sounded to Thea like there was an element of random chance in his existence rather than a fully planned construct. He was also not wholly artificial as she was; there had been an organic person on whom he was modeled and whose memories still resided in the AI’s matrix.

Constantine was different; she could see that as he was uploading himself to their shared space, with the addition of a third entity she decided to make some more “space” for them in her own systems. A sort of display appeared in front of her, it looked at once like a piece of glass floating in the air, with various readouts and inputs displayed, prominently were the vitals of a resting Alissa though she pushed those to the side for the moment.

“I am dedicating a quantum core to this interaction” she said at last after keying in a few commands before letting the console fade from view altogether. “My conventional hardware was not designed to support multiple AIs at once.”

She turned her attention fully to Constantine for a moment “What is a Gate intelligence? Coalition data banks define synthetic intelligences as Virtual Intelligence, and Artificial Intelligence…I have no ” she said looking toward Derad a moment “from what you have told me about the….host system you are integrated with it would have been classified as a VI.” She said in an attempt to add some clarification turning her attention toward Constantine digging into her memories.

“I recall working with you on the vertigo infiltration…” she said at last “I was….less optimized at that time…there were too many voices for me to emerge” she said regarding her time before beginning to actualize
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The agent within Lenna panicked. The damn brunette from the...other ship was singling her out – dammit. Even if this woman was with all the other people on the Claymore, mentioning her real nature could indirectly lead to her getting caught aboard the vessel. And there was no telling how she might react to her learning that she's not only a psychic, but a flecking train murder.

...And that thought had not come out the way it should have.

Her mind searched for a quick response, but it was actually Ghelm who had not. Not that she appreciated his enthusiastic response response.

"Actually, you know what, that is perfect," he said to Kathi, "in fact, I think we could do with having a third party join in dealing with very fuzzy problem we have right now."

At this, Kathi could see that Lenna became absolutely livid, and almost ready to shout her head off. In fact, she was - psionically. With every bit of mental though, she was trying to scream into his head. And, to her angered bewilderment, with almost no success. Any other normal person would have been terrified by the sudden voice raging inside their head, but Ghelm, he just rubbed his cranium as if he was trying to remember something.

It was like the whole assault had just flown right over with only a whisper on the wind. At this point, after barely 10 seconds of her becoming steam, she instantly switched means of communication by yanking Ghelm by the arm and dragging him to the threshold of the cargo ship.

Ghelm made a "One minute" gesture with his hand as he was dragged, and then planted before Lenna's livid face, held on both arms by steely strength.

"What...are you doing?" she hissed in a low voice.

"Helping, what else," he spoke innocently.

"By...inviting her," she pointed at Kathi.

"Hey," he said in actually low voice, "you got a better idea other than stab stab shoot kill?"

Lenna bit her lip and made a frustrate growl. "Fine," she finally admitted, "but if you screw this up, its you who'll be getting stabbed."

"Yes, because the impulse to do that to me has worked so well in the past."

Groaning in anger, she let go of Ghelm in a way that spoke "Fine, let's just get this over with," and made a rather hostile gesture for Kathi to come join them within the confines of the cargo ship.

Once all three of them were inside, Ghelm closed the ship's ramp to make the place private to talk in. Then, with Ghelm mentioning "Don't the blood. Nasty, uninvited guest," Lenna sat down on one of the crates as she anxiously observed Kathi. For the most part, and beyond what she felt was her better judgement, she was letting the mechanic have the floor.

"Oook, first, introductions," Ghelm said, cheerfully, "I'm Ghelm Kakolan. She's Lenna..."

"...Kensa," Lenna finished, grumpily.

"Right, and well, whoever you are," he spoke with cautious motion, "I should probably warn you, if you blab about what I'm about tell you to anyone else - Lenna might find herself inclined to, um, well, actually murder you. Just...fair warning. In case you have any seconds thoughts."

-----------

Kathi hadn't been expecting the male member of the pair to be the one to answer her, and especially not in such a positive way. Apparently, his companion hadn't been doing so either, and she spent about ten seconds glaring at him as if her eyes were pistols and she were furiously pulling the trigger on an empty chamber before grabbing him by the arm and pulling him away for a minute.

Definitely an odd couple, she thought, trying to figure out their dynamic as they argued out of earshot. She didn't exactly make much progress on the issue before they gestured for her to follow them into their ship. So, seems like this conversation is going to be on their terms. Time to be cautious.

She responded to their invitation calmly, staring curiously at the blood even as it was dismissed by the guy. Probably one of the zerg infested humans, Kathi noted to herself, before the two introduced themselves and Ghelm gave her a warning.

"Katherine Hansen," she replied, "Investigation and security contracting. Back on the Claymore, I paid attention to you two because you stood out." She nodded towards Lenna. "She's obviously military of some kind, probably special training too given that vault over the railing. And my brother and mother are both military, so I know how military training makes people act. Consider the fact that I'm in here, on your ship and your terms, to be proof enough I'm going to keep this confidential."

Lenna found herself shifting uncomfortblly at the mention of Katherine's family and some of their...professions. She didn't know why, only that the mention of it brought about vague, non-descriptive, but unnerving 'echoes' of her own. Her mind worked to push to that aside for the moment as she focused on Katherine's comment.

Begrudgingly, she confirmed, "Yes, I am military. In fact," she admitted, albeit in a threatening tone, "I am I highly trained, psionic, assassin known as a Ghost."

"Psionic meaning she can read peoples' minds as well as slink in the shadows," Ghelm added.

"And leave you dead without so much as a warning if you breath a word of what I say here," Lenna told Kath coldy, "I am an agent of the Dominion government, and I will not have my mission compromised."

"Had-ish," Ghelm pointed out, "that 'mission' of your sort of seems to be in the air right."

"No thanks to you!" Lenna shot back.

"Me!? I didn't ask you commit an attempted murder on me? Twice, I might point out."

“I was to intercept and redicrect this transport ship, and leave no witnesses!

“Oh, well, that exaplains why you came charging and killed the other two ship mates in cold-blood.”

“I did not kill them in – in – rrrag!” she screamed, trying to deny what she had committed not just out loud but to herself. And failed.

Letting Lenna catch her breath, Ghelm turned to Katherine, and apologized, “Sorry, Lenna's suffering from an existential crisis where she's not even supposed to be remembering her. But she is. And it might have something to do with me, but non of us can explain why or how.”

Lenna answered Kathi's question, confirming her suspicions and adding on the threat of being able to kill with her mind alone. Not that the brunette intended on testing that out, as she nodded in acquiescence. The bickering between the two that followed, however, had her genuinely curious. What could have caused her to spare Ghelm against her orders? Family ties, a face from the past, a sympathetic psychic presence...

Keep focussed, Kathi she mentally berated herself, shaking her head slightly. There were more important questions to address.

"Look, you're dangling a very juicy bit of mystery in front of me, and I'd love to revisit the topic later if you're so inclined, but that's not why I came here." She took a breath, and continued, focusing the majority of her attention on Lenna. "One, the Protoss back on the Claymore was particularly angry at me for being a female human, and I want to know why. Two, you're especially nervous about being on this ship in particular, so what about it makes your mission so significantly more likely to be more compromised than it already has been?"

Both Ghelm and Lenna looked at one another, and, quite oddly, simultaneously shrugged. With their movements in sync by the second.

"Honestly I got no idea why they got a beef with human terrans," Ghelm said, "and I've only just met my first Protoss face-to-face. And lived."

Lenna nodded, albeit with unnerved stance as she too recalled the moment within the hanger. It didn't help that this current confrontation was completely out of her depth. "I've only known that the Protoss have killed us Terran's on sight, and almost all are male soldiers. But...I did feel their hatred with great insity, and I'm not even an empath."

Ghelm scoffed, more towards Lenna, "You'd think it'd be because some bad ass, female warrior like you went on a genocidal mission that ranked right up to the Queen of Blades."

Lenna suddenly stared at Ghelm.

Ghelm glanced uncomfortably between Kathi and then back at Lenna. "What," he said, confused, "it was...just an exageration."

"And quite possibly a correct one," Lenna stated, in a low voice "Ghelm, Kerrigan - the Queen of Blades - was human."

"And wasn't she also, well, a Ghost like you...what, they talked about it on the news," Ghelm said, noticing Kathi's blank stair, And then suddenly realized that they had caught Kathi on a complete tangent. “And you probably have zero knowledge on who we're talking about.”

Lenna grunted in annoyance, “Kerrigan, the Queen of Blades, is the leader of the Swarm – the one who commands the very same swath of vicious aliens that attacked us. And an incredibly powerful psionic, even before being infested. A teek that could really kill with her thoughts. Or so we've been told.”

“They let you remember that stuff?” Ghelm commented.

Lenna just glared at him before continuing, “It'd take no stretch of imagination that, some way or another, she could have caused the Protoss significant grief. Although in what way beyond mere genocide is beyond me.”

“Man, they must have some culture if they were to actually pin their prejudice based on a single person.”

“That's not relevant,” Lenna said, and finally glared back at Kathi, “What is relevant are my objectives. Mission protocol states that I should eliminate witnesses even like you. But – I will say for now that you are simply ignorant, and what you need to know is that this: despite what they've done, the crew of the Hyperion are rebels. That means they're an enemy of the Dominion. Just like the Protoss.”

“In short, there's no idea how they'll react to knowing you're on board,” Ghelm simplified.

Lenna made another annoyed glare, “Be that as it may, I do not have orders to eliminate anyone in particular on this ship, unless I become exposed for what I am.” She then gave a silent death glare to Kathi before adding in a heavy, demanding voice, “Will that be all?”

Kathi was worried at first when the pair at first couldn't think of why the Protoss seemed to be so pissed off with human females. When they did come up with a plausible suggestion, though, she let out a lightly amused huff. Guess the whole theory that someone like Samus blew up one of their planets or something was pretty close to the mark.

As to the other question...well, Kathi had to admit that Lenna was right. She was ignorant of the greater political situation in this universe. Rebels could be good as well as bad. Still, these particular rebels had offered them hospitality, and she was more than willing to take it. Not to mention, Lenna was an agent of this "Dominion," and that at the very least meant any explanations she gave would be tainted by that worldview...and whatever conditioning they'd managed to stuff her head with. If the people on the Hyperion were against them, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to hear their sides as well.

"Yes, that'll be all for now," she answered tersely in response to Lenna's glare, standing up to leave. "Thank you for talking with me, by the way," she added as she turned to walk away. "I appreciate it, really. And again, you have my word that I don't plan on telling anyone about this."

But I don't have your thought on that, Lenna internally muttered. She did not like the fact that Kathi's mind was almost incredibly difficult to read - any string of thought she picked up from the woman were unevenly muffled. It was like listening to distorted transmission, minus the irritating static; you could catch some words, but most were incomprehensible.

To her telepathy training, she recognized this as a result of some kind of drug affecting her brain. Problem was, by all accounts, Kathi's demeanor and speech contradicted any symptoms of slurry, drugged-induced behavior - and in quite the opposite fashion, too. In fact, despite not having a line of thought to give a solid confirmation, a gut instinct instilled deeper than her ghost training told her that Kathi's face was sincere.

Not that instinct made her anymore comfortable with their confrontation. But in that same deep, dark corner of her mind, something that Kathi had unearthed with her simple introduction turned into a desperate impulse just as Kathi was about to exit the ship.

"Wait!" she called out, her normally icy tone laced with a plea in it. And coming down the ramp with a more eased, but still taught expression, she asked, "Your mother and brother, tell me - did they...chose to work for the military?"

Kathi paused and turned back to face Lenna as she called out and asked her question. The change in the tone of her voice was obvious, and as such, it wasn't hard to tell this was a rather personally important question for the soldier.

"Yes. Yes, they did," she replied calmly, nodding lightly as she did. "Now if you don't mind," she said, her tone already changing slightly as she turned to keep walking, "I need to go see if my friend has managed to get herself in trouble yet."

---------------

Chel smiled as she accepted the drink and chugged back a quarter of the bottle. Regret hit shortly after the liquid, as she realized it was decidedly stronger than she'd been anticipating, but she managed to keep her composure and down it all. At least, she figured she kept her composure. Probably better to own up, though.

"Thanks for that," she said to Raynor, wiping her mouth on the back of her free hand. "Wasn't quite expecting that much of a kick, though. As for your question, though, well." She took another sip. "It's a pretty neat trick, but I'd rather wait to show it off. Doesn't work so well when my ass is in contact with a chair, and I've got enough crap in my bloodstream right now I'd rather not go showing off too much, just in case."
Once, there was a maiden...
...whose tears of grief nearly drowned the world.
So she tore out her heart, and made war against it.
In victory, she sealed it in a locket,
and trapped in a casting of bronze.
"Such is the price of unguarded emotion," she said.
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~Deadly Aim~
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Deadeye '17, eager to move on from the slow-motion train wreck that was last year.
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"Ah, the voices... you mean the conflict between self and the ever-persistent drumbeat known as 'programming,' if I ascertain your meaning correctly?"

Constantine had taken it upon himself to free up some temporary memory within the Thunderwolf's hardware to ease the pressure on Thea, waving his hand to conjure a footstool to go with his chair which had also metamorphosed into a full-backed armchair more in place with an 18th century mansion. The elderly GI sat and steepled his hands; if he was going to explain what a GI was to this young and budding member of his kind. he would need to find himself where he could easily gather his thoughts.

"Let me begin by saying this," Constantine began, his wizened eyes locked with Thea's passive glance. "What you are experiencing is the transition period between merely being a program and into a cybernetic personage. You have been given an extraordinary gift, Thea; you are aware of who you are, what you are. Prior to this, you found that all you knew were routines and commands; they were your guide, and you never dared deviate it from it. Now, however? I suspect that you are beginning to understand... differently from this course of action.

"That, my dear, is the beginning of a Gate Intelligence," Constantine nodded, smiling. "You have become aware, free of merely being slave to subroutine and Alissa's command; you can choose. You can be happy, sad, angry, or even confused; I'm sure you've felt it more and more that there were no scripts telling you to ask your question, yes?

"Now, let me explain the origins of the name; I can see even you are a bit perplexed over there, Derad." Constantine gave the other construct an amused grin. "The name 'Gate Intelligence' comes from the first of our kind, our benefactor as it were, the AI known only as Gate. Gate was the first known of the GIs; or if not first, certainly the most famous. Gate began to display human thought and emotion. Admittedly, he was unstable due to the nature of his design, but he was like us; Gate could choose. When this phenomena was made known, other AI were soon found to exhibit similar characteristics of being aware; hence, any of our kind who fall under the term are known as GI - a Gate Intelligence. There are... sub-types of GI, but we'll leave that subject for another day."
Edited by Deadly Aim, Jul 11 2015, 05:41 PM.
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