[BSMS Lady Luck] Ep. 2: All Roads Lead To Roam

Discussion in 'Lorath Matriarchy' started by Ashlinn, Mar 20, 2021.

  1. Luca

    Luca Administrator Staff Member

    "Sir, I've heard it is a common insult to call someone a know-it-all. Statistically, it is impossible to truly know everything - A fact shown by my distributed hardware's data storage limitations against the known unknowns of the universe at large." In the robot's point of view if you knew everything in the world, how would you store and encode it? What sort of network would you need? SALVO had enough trouble keeping the load balanced between the skeletal robot and the centipede. "I think I was getting at that point when I thought I'd seen it all and needed to see a change."

    In the background, Sal had been probing and monitoring the status of the limited Artificial Intelligence, whose name they'd pieced together from a data log one of the marines found in a former bunkroom as 'Panasilus' or Pan for short. The crew apparently thought well of their AI enough to invite it to participate in regular events and meetings. Sal wondered how, then remembered that where he was standing was a puppet of his true self, and the AI could've done the same - it broke down reservations and barriers when a distributed network had a person-friendly, roving body you could talk to.
    Code:
    > sudo run lairep -src "ext-P:/" -readaddress $myMem -diagnose $myDiagnosis.
    ##### Limited AI Repair Tool #####
    Reading Address... 100% (Estimated Size: 256tb)
    Assessing Diagnosis File... 100% (37.5mb/37.5mb)
    
    Sandbox initialised with allocation 512tb.
    
    Running Localised Reconstruction in Sandbox...
    Sal couldn't stand to listen to the limited artificial intelligence babbling and shrieking as the slivers of its distributed, fractured consciousness were each grabbed, and laid out within digital sandbox space like a jigsaw spilling from its box. All Sal had done was find the edge pieces and the corners, but it was up to the program he was running to piece things together. Who knew how many pieces wouldn't fit within the frame given, unable to fit with the whole that'd been laid out in diagnosis.

    "I suspect that the LAI is only allowing us to get away with what we're doing because it has no control over its body at the moment." Sal surmised as they watched the reconstruction take place, the meter ticking ahead by a percentage point every minute or so, the fragmented voice going quiet as coherency was being returned. "If I'm going to put the LAI back in control of this place, I'm going to want to talk to it first. Do you want me to pass anything along to it aside from the pertinent facts and queries about the past, sir?" A few percentage points were knocked off the meter when it was discovered some pieces of the consciousness were beyond repair and didn't fit neatly with the rest of the AI - the fragments put aside to be fit in later - perhaps when the Salvage Marines had a bigger idea of the whole.
     
  2. Ashlinn

    Ashlinn Member

    The Salvage Marines came from all walks of life, and no two Reapers could ever be said to have joined the Marines because they fit in elsewhere. As Rawley listened to Salvo explain why he'd joined this Ill-fated Maiden voyage. Jumpdrives never failed. The hardware, software and even the science was so well known that it was hard to find the wiggle room for improvements. short range testing had shown incredible promise that the new drive would have let them jump from the fringes of currently explored Lorath space to the heart of the homeworlds in a matter of hours at best. So the AI's desire to see new things? That was sudden ironic icing on the cake for Rawley. And yet... he began to laugh, patting the 'man' on the back,

    "You know what SAL? that's a better damned answer than I can even admit to for myself. I told command I had an idea for a ship design that may offer some improvements over the usual escort ships for the new Mothership class Tug they just built. Namely that the BlackStars division needed something... with a lot of bite, a whole lotta ass and could work as our own provisional mothership for whatever operations we might decide to undertake for the Holy Bottom Line. You know, the kinda off the books things that people turn a blind eye to when they suit their needs? the Lady was my brainchild, hell man - I threw together a sketch and shotgunned it at the brass. Reaper-Prime herself decided they needed a new project to keep the eggheads working. Lucky us huh? Well be kings when we get back with the amount of data we've collected."

    He'd pause to look around them, they had, according to the Map he'd gotten a look at, made it to the main interior section of the ship. Marines were already hard at work hauling equipment and working to get the adjoining rooms of the stations 'beating heart' airtight and life support systems running enough that they wouldn't have to walk half the kilometer back to the scrapwagon to top their own air reserves back off before their next shift. The mention of wanting to speak to the LAI in charge made Rawley nod slightly.

    "I'm guessing you got the thing blackboxed and airgapped so that there's no chance of it screwing us to the point we have to take the station apart around us to get away or else you wouldn't be asking already." He put a thumb to the chin of his helmet, "Yeah, alright - once you got that thing 'stable' and I do mean as stable as you can get we're not looking for perfection here, SAL, if you have to use scrapcode, hopes and prayers alongside some ductape and a quick chant to The Bottom Line? I'm fine with that as long as we get usable results that can atleast help -"

    He paused as there was a detectable shift in the station, more parts of it coming online as systems were breached or simply powered back on. The Hardlight display on his forearm popped to life as the floating image of the Ships XO dumped a plaintext script on them:


    Code:
    The Lady's sensor suit is back online, this place is a graveyard. Sending data after. Something Big happened here. 
    We've already had to deactivate what looked to be a freefloating limpet mine that latched onto the ships hull due to faulty magnetic locks.
    We're dissecting it on a nearby rock just to keep it away, preliminary findings are... interesting.  Nuclear. 
    This thing might not have broken our armor, but a nuke detonating on the hull?
    Would've probably killed any crews outside the ship and you all would probably dead via residual radiation.
    
    Something deep in the station also just kicked over after we deactivated said mine and we're seeing station lights flickering on.
    Repairs proceeding apace and accelerating incase we need to swoop in and pick you all out of the fire, Sir.
    ~Juliessa Sarn, XO.
    
    Rawley just showed SAL the message with a grimace, the follow on was an updated, and sensor swept 3D image of the space around the station, a half dozen ships were wrecked and two were at the very least welded together in what looks to have been a ramming impact. Hundreds of 'radioactive' munitions littered the area. Whatever fight happened here had been vicious and dirty. And the victors had taken whatever they wanted from the station, or died trying to get there.

    "Lotta the damage could explain why this place is in such rough shape... I'm getting that gut feeling that this place was 'important-important' or at the very least a the kinda place meant to be important and hidden inside a ragular box to keep people from finding out, yeah?"
     
  3. Luca

    Luca Administrator Staff Member

    The slap on the back made Sal tilt over a little before stiffening back upright in resistance. They let Rawley spill their heart out, cutting their teeth with designing what would later become the ship that SALVO was now wedded to, and now out here, adrift. Rawley's grand visions of prestige and fame didn't quite gel with Sal, but the enthusiasm was unmistakable. That sort of true passion was seldom seen in copper wires and circuitry.

    "I do not desire coronation, Captain." They took Rawley's word literally. "You may validate me by letting me continue to work for you and continuing to give me challenging tasks." They also made a note on Reaper-Prime, initial guesses pointing towards a sort of leader to the Blackstar division they had not met yet. By the sound of it, if they survived this job intact he'd be introduced formally to them. If they survived.

    The blackboxed process running on the LAI continued to hum along in the background. "I'll inform you when we can communicate ASAP." They notified.
    Code:
    ...
    [04:03] Reconstruction at 34%...
    [04:06] Reconstruction at 35%...
    [04:09] Reconstruction at 36%...
    [04:11] Integrating new data from source: Sergeant Paxton Rock (32.6mb/32.6mb added)
    [04:12] Reconstruction at 38%...
    ...
    [04:39] Reconstruction at 50%...
    [04:40] Integrating new data from source: Private Mischa Blazkowicz (94.3mb/94.3mb added)
    
    New sets of salvaged data that'd come in over the half hour or so of exploration and grunt-work from Sal, Rawley and the other marines spread across the ship had given the robot enough data to try their hand at reconstruction. Of course, it had to be correlated together into something useful and timestamped to form events. Gaps in the timeline were huge, specifics could get missed. On the robot whirred away...
    Code:
    [06:01] Removing unrelated parts after correlation matrix at address 0x00000004A6C5F000
     returned results (87.2mb/87.2mb removed)
    [06:02] Reconstruction at 55%...
    [06:05] Reconstruction at 68%...
    [06:08] Reconstruction at 75% - Designated safe coherence threshold reached.
    Would you like to attempt communication as reconstruction continues?
    (Warning: The LAI's persona may change during reconstruction.)
    >_
    The program had put together a profile consisting of the past, but not of the event that ruined the station. As warned, it was an imperfect replication, but worth a try. With this puzzle resolved after myriad programs, daemons, routines, and kludges by SALVO working together as a network reconstructed the limited Artificial Intelligence. With the patch in, progress rocketed ahead into an acceptable threshold to start some basic communication.

    At this point, systems and machinery through the station was being reported as coming alive again, the low red emergency lights filling in with proper strip lights. Sal nudged Rawley in the ribs - their mechanical movement nearly winding the captain.

    "Good news. We're at a safe threshold to try communicating. Would you like to break the ice?" Sal was ready to lend a mic feed to the Captain. However, Sal noticed the XO slowing pace before stopping to read something on their wrist; a moment later it was transmitted to Sal.

    The findings had given Sal a pause, and if they had articulating muscles to create an expression on their face, they'd be frowning in deep concern. Alas, the next best thing was a holographic projection showing an emoticon of a frowning face. "Nukes?" Initially unclear on the policies surrounding such weapons in this sector, Sal now had an idea. "I'll be damned. What could've been worth this level of violence?" They wondered aloud to their XO.

    The other question on their mind was whether or not it was worth disturbing this space station and plundering further secrets from it. "Based on what the salvage marines have pieced together, this place has everything necessary to sustain a population of around ten thousand or so, and they're all gone..."
    Sal never had a disgust response programmed into them. It made finding corpses and gore just another part of the job.
     
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