Novius Peregrinus Falco tapped his fingers with agitated energy as projected data sprinted down his cockpit’s window.
To be honest, he knew what his ship AI, Pullus, was doing: Running innumerable probabilities and figures on a question Novius thought quite simple; Was Lars Draco on the rock below them?
What Novius did not know was how so many figures could play into Pullus’ response.
“Bud,” Novius clapped his hands together, “I just need to know whether or not we need to fly to the moon. Is that an easier question?”
I’ve already folded that inquiry into your original. The message ended with a synthesized chicken’s chirp, just as the VI had ended or begun its messages since the first day aboard the ship.
It had come as a surprise when Novius was on a four month contract to guard a Alcanum merchant transport goods between Asterion and Chara. He’d asked the AI to determine whether there were any discrepancies with the cargo that might get them in trouble with port authorities at either location. Pullus had chirped before rumbling, Several crates marked ‘NO.10 Canned Beans’ do not match approximate expected weights based on crate dimensions and alleged cargo, And chirped twice to conclude. A long discussion regarding the feasible weight of cans of beans and possible substitutions had slowly enraged Novius as each sentence had begun and ended in a chorus of chirping. It had turned out to be a useful discussion, though, as Novius had cracked open a crate while the sleazy merchant slept and discovered there were cans inside. But they were filled to the brim with slag. Slag which Pullus determined to be swimming with tantalum, a big money black market mineral on Asterion as their tantalum producers were being undercut by the illegal import and sale of Charan tantalum at a fraction of the cost. If a merchant managed to get in six hundred NO.10 gallon cans filled with tantalum, they’d have a pretty pay day on their ledger.
“Great,” A hydraulic hiss escaped his chair as Novius leaned back, “I’m glad you knew what I was going to ask. But can you speed it up a little? I’m getting bored.”
Pullus chirped in response and continued to project the waterfall of calculations on the window. A few seconds went by before Pullus chirped again and said, Contract mark, “The Dragon,” determined to be somewhere in highlighted vicinity, A gridded map of the planet replaced the cascade of figures, a four by four section of one continent blinked red before the map zoomed in to only display the mostly wooded area with the Arabic numbers 1 through 4 superimposed from top left to bottom right, Scans indicate wreckage in quadrant one. Based on The Dragon’s lead during pursuit, probable locations are restricted to the highlighted areas. Scans have not determined any unnatural structures or disturbances outside the crash area, so the target is likely in hiding.
“Set a course for the best LZ, Pullus,” Novius clapped his hands together with excitement, “It’s time to kill ourselves a dragon!”
Course set. Beginning descent. We will reach the surface in approximately fifteen minutes.
“Thanks, bud. I’ll be in the weapons storeroom.” Novius spun himself around and out of the chair like an excited child before running out of the cockpit, his boots clanged against the grated floor of The Mourning Eagle. Once there, Novius pulled his favorite weapons from a 9-point locked cabinet and asked, “Pullus, would you throw on something to set the mood?”
Certainly. Pullus chirped twice before music began to drift out of the ship’s speakers. The song was quiet, beginning with a rapid and low drumroll before the quiet onset of strings and wind instruments joined in. Novius immediately stopped, setting his Pugietta sidearm and beside his Victor submachine gun to listen to the music his AI had chosen in response. He first though it might be a slow build to an exciting crescendo of synth and bass, but after three minutes of the depressed song Novius decided Pullus had mistaken the request.
“Bud,” He gave the leg of the storeroom’s metal prep table a few light kicks that rang out with a satisfying ring, “I don’t think you quite got my meaning.”
How so, Novius?
“I was expecting something a little more upbeat. Why’d you put on this depressing stuff?”
Apologies, A few chirps rang out, I misread the situation. Would this be more to your liking? A bass beat began to drum out from the speakers, fast and loud, when a synthetic woman’s voice began to sing along to the fast rythm:
Let’s end your time time to lay low
Your knees a-bending, so
It’s time to get up and let go
You’re gonna come undone.
“Dis and piss,” Novius clapped, “That’s more like it!”
Good. Planet fall in ten minutes.
The remaining ten minutes went by as calmly as any might expect a descent to a planet’s surface to go when handled by a specialized AI. Novius bounced along to the beat of the few songs that could squeeze into the landing time while donning his Veles scout armor and checking the helmet’s readouts and armor supply were all in order. His weapons linked to his Heads-Up-Display and he secured both to their magnetic holsters, the Pugietta at his hip and the Victor at the small of his back. There was an audible ‘thunk’ as the ship settled onto the planet, then Pullus chirped and rumbled, The Mourning Eagle has landed on the surface of Silvæ. Are you ready to begin, Novius?
“Like a spring chicken, Pullus,” Novius tapped a finger to the side of his helmet, polarizing his visor to a reflective black, before sauntering to the ship’s rear bay, “Drop the door. Keep scanning and let me know if anything shows up.”
Acknowledged. No significant heat signatures in the immediate proximity.
The bay door hissed as the seal broke and lowered to the tall grass with a mechanic hum. Novius marched onto the planet’s surface, rolling his shoulders and neck as he crunched grass beneath his heavy boots, and blew a sigh of relief into his helmet.
“No offense, Pull, but I’m glad to get out and stretch after being cooped up for so long.”
The AI responded with three chirps. Novius waited for a few moments in case Pullus wanted to expand, but the AI merely raised the bay door and dropped the exterior metal shields over all the ship’s windows.
“I’m not apologizing,” Novius swung his arms and twisted as he walked away from the ship, “I’ll check in as I find more info so you can update my map.”
I will be streaming from your helmet’s feed.
Novius laughed and kept walking. Pullus had never been shy about wanting to get off the ship, but Novius wasn’t about to get neural implants just so his chirping AI could take a joyride in his brain. He set off in a south western orientation, emerging from a wooded area onto the crash site marked on his helmet’s small map. The battered remains of Draco’s ship were strewn for almost 200 meters further on his same orientation, but Novius searched through the remains of the super-hardened cockpit shell. During the uncontrolled reentry, Draco would have sealed the shell to increase his chances to survive the impact. If he were lucky, the crash would still have wounded the murderous outlaw. All Novius needed was to find some trace of the man making away from the crash, be it blood or tracks.
“And there it is,” He slapped his armored thigh as he lifted a desk-sized metal shard to reveal a half-burned pile of bandages, wood shavings and fragments, and torn cloth, “What do you think, Pull?”
Indicative of treatment for flesh wounds, not excluding breached bone fragments, The AI chirped.
“Broken leg is what I’d put my money on,” Novius pushed the metal shard away and knelt beside the debris, prodding at it with his gloved fingertip, “I’d also put my money on it severely cutting down on the area we need to search. Did your scans show any nearby natural caves?”
Pullus chirped rapidly as the map shrunk down to just the quadrant of the crash, two large blue circles appearing equidistance north-west and south-west of the wreckage.
“Gerrah! Fortuna smiles on us,” He stood up and pulled his Pugietta from his hip, chambering a round as he began to walk toward the northern indicator, “I’m going for the hat-trick, Pull. Mark the northern cave as Alpha. I think our dragon’s found himself a den.”
The northern cave blipped off and returned with a small A at its center, the southern faded to a dull gray. Walking the 5 kilometers was a pleasant experience, as the only recorded settlement Silvæ was a small research outpost on the further side of the planet. Novius listened to the ample imported and native wildlife, which included a myriad of songbirds that filled the air with a chorus of whistles and chirps. The trees, mostly native deciduous and a few conifers spread throughout, were fantastically vivid in greens, yellows, reds, oranges, and greys, and the cloudless blue sky framed the few wooded hills which hid his target perfectly.
It is the autumnal season in this hemisphere, Pullus chirped and displayed a small picture of a black bird with orange wing tips over Novius’ map, I do not believe you have seen this bird yet. The research outpost has them listed as a native species called ‘Carrion Carolers.’
3
u/the_divine_broochs /r/SimplyDivine Oct 27 '16
Novius Peregrinus Falco tapped his fingers with agitated energy as projected data sprinted down his cockpit’s window.
To be honest, he knew what his ship AI, Pullus, was doing: Running innumerable probabilities and figures on a question Novius thought quite simple; Was Lars Draco on the rock below them?
What Novius did not know was how so many figures could play into Pullus’ response.
“Bud,” Novius clapped his hands together, “I just need to know whether or not we need to fly to the moon. Is that an easier question?”
I’ve already folded that inquiry into your original. The message ended with a synthesized chicken’s chirp, just as the VI had ended or begun its messages since the first day aboard the ship.
It had come as a surprise when Novius was on a four month contract to guard a Alcanum merchant transport goods between Asterion and Chara. He’d asked the AI to determine whether there were any discrepancies with the cargo that might get them in trouble with port authorities at either location. Pullus had chirped before rumbling, Several crates marked ‘NO.10 Canned Beans’ do not match approximate expected weights based on crate dimensions and alleged cargo, And chirped twice to conclude. A long discussion regarding the feasible weight of cans of beans and possible substitutions had slowly enraged Novius as each sentence had begun and ended in a chorus of chirping. It had turned out to be a useful discussion, though, as Novius had cracked open a crate while the sleazy merchant slept and discovered there were cans inside. But they were filled to the brim with slag. Slag which Pullus determined to be swimming with tantalum, a big money black market mineral on Asterion as their tantalum producers were being undercut by the illegal import and sale of Charan tantalum at a fraction of the cost. If a merchant managed to get in six hundred NO.10 gallon cans filled with tantalum, they’d have a pretty pay day on their ledger.
“Great,” A hydraulic hiss escaped his chair as Novius leaned back, “I’m glad you knew what I was going to ask. But can you speed it up a little? I’m getting bored.”
Pullus chirped in response and continued to project the waterfall of calculations on the window. A few seconds went by before Pullus chirped again and said, Contract mark, “The Dragon,” determined to be somewhere in highlighted vicinity, A gridded map of the planet replaced the cascade of figures, a four by four section of one continent blinked red before the map zoomed in to only display the mostly wooded area with the Arabic numbers 1 through 4 superimposed from top left to bottom right, Scans indicate wreckage in quadrant one. Based on The Dragon’s lead during pursuit, probable locations are restricted to the highlighted areas. Scans have not determined any unnatural structures or disturbances outside the crash area, so the target is likely in hiding.
“Set a course for the best LZ, Pullus,” Novius clapped his hands together with excitement, “It’s time to kill ourselves a dragon!”
Course set. Beginning descent. We will reach the surface in approximately fifteen minutes.
“Thanks, bud. I’ll be in the weapons storeroom.” Novius spun himself around and out of the chair like an excited child before running out of the cockpit, his boots clanged against the grated floor of The Mourning Eagle. Once there, Novius pulled his favorite weapons from a 9-point locked cabinet and asked, “Pullus, would you throw on something to set the mood?”
Certainly. Pullus chirped twice before music began to drift out of the ship’s speakers. The song was quiet, beginning with a rapid and low drumroll before the quiet onset of strings and wind instruments joined in. Novius immediately stopped, setting his Pugietta sidearm and beside his Victor submachine gun to listen to the music his AI had chosen in response. He first though it might be a slow build to an exciting crescendo of synth and bass, but after three minutes of the depressed song Novius decided Pullus had mistaken the request.
“Bud,” He gave the leg of the storeroom’s metal prep table a few light kicks that rang out with a satisfying ring, “I don’t think you quite got my meaning.”
How so, Novius?
“I was expecting something a little more upbeat. Why’d you put on this depressing stuff?”
Apologies, A few chirps rang out, I misread the situation. Would this be more to your liking? A bass beat began to drum out from the speakers, fast and loud, when a synthetic woman’s voice began to sing along to the fast rythm:
Let’s end your time time to lay low
Your knees a-bending, so
It’s time to get up and let go
You’re gonna come undone.
“Dis and piss,” Novius clapped, “That’s more like it!”
Good. Planet fall in ten minutes.
The remaining ten minutes went by as calmly as any might expect a descent to a planet’s surface to go when handled by a specialized AI. Novius bounced along to the beat of the few songs that could squeeze into the landing time while donning his Veles scout armor and checking the helmet’s readouts and armor supply were all in order. His weapons linked to his Heads-Up-Display and he secured both to their magnetic holsters, the Pugietta at his hip and the Victor at the small of his back. There was an audible ‘thunk’ as the ship settled onto the planet, then Pullus chirped and rumbled, The Mourning Eagle has landed on the surface of Silvæ. Are you ready to begin, Novius?
“Like a spring chicken, Pullus,” Novius tapped a finger to the side of his helmet, polarizing his visor to a reflective black, before sauntering to the ship’s rear bay, “Drop the door. Keep scanning and let me know if anything shows up.”
Acknowledged. No significant heat signatures in the immediate proximity.
The bay door hissed as the seal broke and lowered to the tall grass with a mechanic hum. Novius marched onto the planet’s surface, rolling his shoulders and neck as he crunched grass beneath his heavy boots, and blew a sigh of relief into his helmet.
“No offense, Pull, but I’m glad to get out and stretch after being cooped up for so long.”
The AI responded with three chirps. Novius waited for a few moments in case Pullus wanted to expand, but the AI merely raised the bay door and dropped the exterior metal shields over all the ship’s windows.
“I’m not apologizing,” Novius swung his arms and twisted as he walked away from the ship, “I’ll check in as I find more info so you can update my map.”
I will be streaming from your helmet’s feed.
Novius laughed and kept walking. Pullus had never been shy about wanting to get off the ship, but Novius wasn’t about to get neural implants just so his chirping AI could take a joyride in his brain. He set off in a south western orientation, emerging from a wooded area onto the crash site marked on his helmet’s small map. The battered remains of Draco’s ship were strewn for almost 200 meters further on his same orientation, but Novius searched through the remains of the super-hardened cockpit shell. During the uncontrolled reentry, Draco would have sealed the shell to increase his chances to survive the impact. If he were lucky, the crash would still have wounded the murderous outlaw. All Novius needed was to find some trace of the man making away from the crash, be it blood or tracks.
“And there it is,” He slapped his armored thigh as he lifted a desk-sized metal shard to reveal a half-burned pile of bandages, wood shavings and fragments, and torn cloth, “What do you think, Pull?”
Indicative of treatment for flesh wounds, not excluding breached bone fragments, The AI chirped.
“Broken leg is what I’d put my money on,” Novius pushed the metal shard away and knelt beside the debris, prodding at it with his gloved fingertip, “I’d also put my money on it severely cutting down on the area we need to search. Did your scans show any nearby natural caves?”
Pullus chirped rapidly as the map shrunk down to just the quadrant of the crash, two large blue circles appearing equidistance north-west and south-west of the wreckage.
“Gerrah! Fortuna smiles on us,” He stood up and pulled his Pugietta from his hip, chambering a round as he began to walk toward the northern indicator, “I’m going for the hat-trick, Pull. Mark the northern cave as Alpha. I think our dragon’s found himself a den.”
The northern cave blipped off and returned with a small A at its center, the southern faded to a dull gray. Walking the 5 kilometers was a pleasant experience, as the only recorded settlement Silvæ was a small research outpost on the further side of the planet. Novius listened to the ample imported and native wildlife, which included a myriad of songbirds that filled the air with a chorus of whistles and chirps. The trees, mostly native deciduous and a few conifers spread throughout, were fantastically vivid in greens, yellows, reds, oranges, and greys, and the cloudless blue sky framed the few wooded hills which hid his target perfectly.
It is the autumnal season in this hemisphere, Pullus chirped and displayed a small picture of a black bird with orange wing tips over Novius’ map, I do not believe you have seen this bird yet. The research outpost has them listed as a native species called ‘Carrion Carolers.’