ITT: We are on an intergalactic road trip II

Gotcha.

Yeah... it appears that the transmitter is multiband too, so there's another signal nearer the highest frequencies. They don't appear to communicate anything intelligble, though - just modulated noise.

I'm back! and barely awake... I gotta stop waking up in the middle of REM sleep...

Modulated noise...

-Finishes tapping away at the console-

I can't help but think of fractals for some reason... Maybe because I've been messing around with software for generating fractal terrains lately... Try running through a program to translate it into something visual. It might produce a result. Anyways, I've got the virus downloaded into this little fella. -taps at the aeberian with my foot-

edited 19th Oct '10 5:17:31 AM by Vorthon

There must be a reason why it's transmitting on two seperate frequencies, though.

Wait, they're trying to wake something up, right? Maybe this is some kind of wakeup call?

Nobody knows what exactly they're doing...

Wait a second.

-Flanker fiddles with the controls for a few seconds-

I know it's crazy, but what if I combined the two frequencies...?

-the console beeps before playing a message-

This is an automated hail for Jotun Heavy Industries Shipyard Eta-Alpha. Current status is COMPROMISED. All civilian vessels are recommended to stay away, while warships may approach with caution. This is an automated hail for Jotun Heavy Industries Shipyard Eta-Alpha. Current status is COMPROMISED. All civilian vessels are recommended to stay away, while warships may approach with caution.

-the hail seems to repeat, with a pause between each repetition as a 4 digit identification code is transmitted in morse-

Well, that's great. I don't think ignoring this is going to be a viable option.

edited 19th Oct '10 5:51:55 AM by Flanker66

Yeah, I kinda guessed that. Hey, wait, where's Nysa?

-A small ship approaches the hangar bay, and Nysa's voice comes up on the commlink-

Hey! let me in!

Wait a second... there you go.

-The hangar opens its doors, which were closed for the hyperspace jump-

Wonder where everyone else is... It's getting kind of awkward with only two people...

-After the ship is settled in the hangar, nysa makes her way to where Flanker and I are.-

-A rather tall, powerful female torikan, snow leopard variety^ strides into view.-

So! How much longer till I get to kill something?

-I shrink back a bit, lookin rather meek.-

Hey, Nysa, It's good to see you again...

-She completely ignores me.-

Seriously! When do I get to kill things?

^: for those who don't know, torikan are an artificial alien race, originally created sterile. After wand the galaxy for a few hundred years, they came across earth and engineered themselves new bodies from the dna of humans and animals. Each individual torikan picked an animal they found interesting. So Torikan are essentially anthros. For example, I happen to be a puma variety torikan. (not in real life, of course!) By chance, the females are larger, stronger and generally more assertive then males.

edited 19th Oct '10 6:11:48 AM by Vorthon

Be damned if I know. Everyone has disappeared or gotten involved with other projects, methinks. I'm involved in one such project, and we're about to take a two week break before we start the sequel, so I could PM the others. Also, be advised that I'm going to be gone in less than 20 minutes or so.

We're about to dock with the shipyard... you'll get your kills soon enough.

Should the shipyard's defenses activate or should we wait until we're actually inside the thing?

I dunno. Flip a coin. or something.

-I walk over to a corner and look at the wall, with my hands behind my back and start humming.-

Rolled a die. Digits less than 3 meant we were attacked, while rolls the same as or more than 3 meant the shipyard's guns remained silent. Got a 5, so we're safe.

-The Erinthios wallows slightly as it connects to a docking tube, a few nearly complete ships and one complete example nearby. Although all of them are inert and there aren't any lights on, a few glowing amber light sources twinkle in the unfinished sections of the incomplete ships. The shipyard itself is a horseshoe shape, painted white. The windows have a greenish blue tinge to them, but only a few corridors seem to have running lights judging from the view in the Erinthios-

Well, here we are.

-Flanker picks up his laser assault rifle and gingerly walks up to the airlock, which opens after a few seconds. A group of chittering robots are on the other side, taking him by surprise-

What the -

-A few attempt to pounce on him, while others fire weapons of varying types. Luckily, Flanker is quick enough to avoid being mauled by either the machines or the gunfire and ducks behind the wall-

Okay, it appears we've got a welcoming committee.

-He leans out, taking pot-shots at them. One or two are disabled, but it is clear that at this rate the group will never progress-

-the aeberian slithers out, spreading itself out so that it's a barely visible sheet crawling across the ground.-

-Flanker is still firing at the machines, while a new one skitters nearby and fires a large projectile-

Is that a grenade?!

-He dives to thicker cover, but the projectile stops, and it appears not to activate. However, it slowly hovers into the air, sprouting two thin cables that begin spinning rapidly, making a nasal buzzing noise as it begins making its way to the nearest target-

Hang on!

-Flanker diverts his attention to the canister-turned-robot, but can only fire single shots for fear of accidentally shooting his allies or an important piece of equipment-

-the aeberian extends thread-thin filaments and slips then into cracks in the nearest robot's exterior, and begins to interface with it, downloading the virus into it.-

-The robot quivers for a few moments before its razor sharp wire comes to a stop. It floats in an inert state.-

That's a relief...

-Meanwhile, the other machines have spotted the Aeberian and begin diverting some of their fire. Flanker returns to shooting at them, disabling a few more-

-The aeberian slides over the robots attacking it, forming a film over them. It then extrudes more filaments into them, and starts to interface with them.-

-A quiet popping noise issues from beneath the film: it appears that the film's captives have committed suicide via overheating-

Well, that's one way to do it.

-Vorthon taps out a sequence on the console linked to the aeberian, and it brings one of the less damaged robots over for him to inspect.-

Thanks. Hmm... interesting...

-Nysa sneaks up behind him while he's studying the robot.-

What's interesting?

-Vorthon jumps a little, scared almost witless by Nysa's voice.-

Gah! Don't sneak up on me like that! This robot, that's what interesting. Hey, Flanker! Come take a look at this.

-Flanker treads over to the pair, still wary in case the machine has one last surprise up its' (non-existent) sleeve-

What is it?

I've seen this kind of robot before. Back when Nysa and me were part of the crew of the Obsidian, we were hired to do a little surveying. On the tenth moon of the largest gas giant in the system we were hired to survey, we found a little outpost of some kind. It looked like no one had inhabitated it for centuries, possibly millenia. There were no traces of organics, but we did find a few battered robots that had apparently stopped functioning in the middle of whatever they were doing. They looked just like this guy. Although, there's one minor difference...

-Vorthon reaches into a hole in the robot's body, and rummages around, trying to find something. After a while, he tugs out a small, metallic spindle-shaped device with a few wires dangling from one end. He glances at it and grimaces.-

Poor guy, he must've been enslaved...

Can't think of a good reason for why I just reappear from out of nowhere, so there won't be one.

Bloody hyperspace jetlag...

-walks up just in time to hear Vorthon's last sentence, raises eyebrow-

Enslaving... a robot?

...Can you tell if it's been manufactured, or is it a machine-species of some sort?

We found evidence of mind-transfer tech on that moon, so we're guessing they were originally an organic race which went down the whole 'becoming one with their technology' path. I really think we should have a remote base of operations. Y'know, somewhere we can fall back to if things go badly. I know just the system, too. A G 4 V star called Psundo. It's got two roughly earth-mass worlds which are essentially ice planets, but Niixol, the bigger of the two, is only a bit below freezing at the equator. But let's finish up here first.

Yeah... thanks for the offer.

-Flanker enters the shipyard's docking tube. It seems that apart from those machines, this corridor is completely empty-

I wonder what happened to everyone?

...Don't tell me this was an automated facility.

Maybe they killed everyone and processed the bodies into inorganic soot?