20 Unto the monolith 1.3
Michael just sat there, not knowing how to feel about what had just taken place. It wasn't like he hadn't expected her to attempt to read his mind. If she didn't he would have thought it strange; she was probably (or at least used to be from context) a bandit after all. But it angered him a bit, contrary to his logical perceptions.
As it turned out after she had attempted to "read his mind". Foreward Star had intervened, acknowledging that the BP particle concentrations around her were directing themselves at Michael, and used the Humphree's BP-generators and stuff... to basically overload her (in her sensitive state) with other randomized information.
The Man-child only knew all of this because the A.I had told him. Otherwise, he still would have guessed that it was Foreward Star's doing, but not how it was done. Either way, he shrugged his shoulders at the extremely confused Carrian, who hurriedly asked him what happened.
"She did something... inappreciable"
Just as he had finished the sentence. A long red message slowly scrolled down his HUD.
It was a series of commands. A very "interesting" set of commands. He read all of them very intently, after being self-enlightened as to why the A.I was acting this way; apparently, after the actions of Miranda had taken place, "certain precautions must be taken" in order to ensure the "integrity" of the mission.
Michael grinned, under the visored helmet.
"This will be great!"
It all began with the first step; a hiss and pop of the helmet, removing itself from his head, and an incredibly serious expression directed at Carrian.
He tossed the helmet over.
"Here... you should wear this..."
.
Carrian Pov
'Does he seriously think I'd fall for that again?'
Carrian frowned, staring incredulously at Mitch, now holding the helmet in his one free hand; the other was used to support the unconscious Miranda, with a doubtfully contorted face. But he asked why just to make sure;
"And why would that be again?"
The other just stared at him, then a look of realization seemed to pop onto his facial features.
"Ah. You're thinking that I'm about to trick you into something again? Right?... hehehe" Mitch's laughed grew as if remembering the first set of events, eying Carrian as if to poke fun at him. A little, embarrassed blush grew on the bandits face.
"...well it's not like that." Mitch calmed down. " It just so happens that the tiny little medical room on this ship is a hell of a lot more stuffier than any other place on board. Dangerously so... for huma-...Uminos according to the A.I. But its also one of the only places with somewhat comfy bedding... that is... unless you want to carry her around for an hour, or set her someplace on the floor... but I'm guessing Miss Rhea here wouldn't take too kindly to the consideration put into either of the two options..."
Carrian pondered thoughtfully on what he had just heard,
'It makes sense....'
He held the helmet over his head. He cast furtive glances at Mitch who remained sitting there as if he couldn't care whether or not he put the helmet on at all.
'This shouldn't lead to anything too bad... probably'
and the helmet slipped directly onto his head. Carrian looked up to be greeted by the face of a grinning Michael.
"....what-"
He couldn't finish his words. Sudden darkness reigned over his conscience,
______________________________________________
When Carrian came to his senses... he was...
Where was he?
Bandit looked around the small unfamiliar room, which was undoubtedly just another place aboard the Humphrey.
The rough metal design features gave it away.
The light weight of the helmet on his head reminded him of that little talk he had with Mitch before it all went blank.
...
'Damnit....'
The realization that he was tricked once again dawned upon him faster than it took to recognize the faint breathing sounds behind him.
He turned to find someone chained to a metal chair. Their head was tilted to the side as they continued on - in their originally unplanned slumber.
It was Miranda.
...
"Uh...hmmmm...
...
Carrian stood from his seated position; leaning against the wall, and attempted to shake the tiredness from his eyes as he walked over to the small door. The room wasn't large by any means, at most it could fit 5 people, but even then it would be a tight fit. He had a hard time figuring out what such a small room was used for on a ship like this, much less where it was located onboard...
'Well shit....just hope the door isn't locked'
\\ Rest assured Mr. Carrian, the door to sanitation supply room A2 is perfectly accessible to you, much less Ms.Miranda there behind you. \\
He would have jumped in surprise had he not been trying to rid himself of the fuzziness in his gaze.
"Oh...yeah, hey uhh...Foreward.....you wouldn't mind telling me what's going on would you?"
\\No, Mr. Carrian, I would not mind at all. But I believe you are mistaken.
I am not the 'Foreward Star' to whom you would mentally attach the usage of this helmet with, but merely a temporary copy.\\
"A copy huh? Temporary?" Carrian rotated the door's small handle, and as previously stated, it opened without a hitch.
\\Correct. My code will sustain itself for the period of approximately 1 month, before being subject to rapid deterioration and corruption.\\
...
"That sounds...nice" Carrian awkwardly replied, looking back over to the unconscious Miranda.
"Sooo...where are they then?"
The temporary A.I. immediately responded.
\\ If you are referring to Operative Mitch and my predecessor: AI designate 'Foreward Star', they are currently positioned inside of the U.P.C. satellite in orbit above planet Sava V.\\
...
...
"...And we're not?"
Before the A.I. had even responded, Carrian had completely forgotten Miranda and rushed to find the cockpit, he slipped through a comfortably slim entrance space and into the ships second deck main hallway; a place he barely recognized. From there he made a greater effort to reach his destination, all the while ignoring the blatant red message that had appeared seconds earlier.
\\ That is also correct Mr. Carrian.
We are currently on course to a newly discovered nearby trading hub. My predecessor had found it when accessing the satellite's older manifests. It is necessary to obtain specific parts for the repair of the satellite's communications systems. \\
.
Upon finally reaching the cockpit, Carrian observed from the view, that they were indeed nowhere near the satellite. The reason was simple; specks of light were bending past them like drops of rain in a thunderstorm (Although it's only a once in a century event on Sava V)...
...They were in FTL.
"I suppose there's no going around this then?"
\\ Affirmative. This sub-task has been delegated to both you, Mr. Carrian, and Ms. Miranda, who was recently drawn into the operation. The same consequences apply for the personal aspiration to terminate the mission or its attempted placement into jeopardy. \\
...
'Thought so...' A headache began to encroach upon him.
"Ah. Ok. Hey...Fo-..uhhh....wait... What am I supposed to call you if you aren't the original?... It would be nice not having to refer to you as "Temporary A.I." for however long this takes...?" Carrian leaned up against the back of the main pilot's seat, resisting the strain to either rub the top of his head, or his chin.
// Feel free to label me as you like Mr. Carrian. However, as my "lifespan" is only the duration of a month, I do not see the need for such an action.//
.
"Hmmmm" Carrian let off a small smile, "I get to name an A.I., this should be fun...."
"I'm just trying to differentiate the both of you, so how about...'Backwards Star'....no, that's too simple...I've always thought of A.I.s as grandiose things, things sacred to those advanced bastards in their starships and whatnots...Ah!...I know just the word!... 'Hierophant'...an old friend taught me that word. Someone who actually knew the history of acting. Its meaning is someone who perceives the "sacred mysteries" and "the... esoteric principles of our universe"...that's it....yes! From henceforth you shall be known as Backwards Hierophant! It may sound a little on the fancy side, but I'd expect nothing less from an A.I.!"
By this point in the conversation, Carrian was laughing uproariously.
"While we're at it, change the color of your display...it needs to be something more majestic..something to suit the name. How about purple!" Carrian continued to happily chortle, until a message flung itself onto his visor display.
\\ Does this suit your preferences Mr. Carrian?\\
..
"..."
Carrain didn't know whether to laugh at the fact that the A.I. took his request seriously or be appreciative of it. But the sudden heavy rocking of the ship didn't allow him to continue that mindset any farther. The return of color to his eyes from the ship's cockpit signaled a return to 'normal space' or at least that's what Carrian could gather from it.
His breath became silent as, in his eyes, a wonder unfolded itself.
A massive asteroid.
Hundreds upon thousands of spacefaring ships.
.
A hive of activity.
.
And a monolith...
{[| Michael's Pov |]}
"Say Foreward..." Michael grinned wryly as he gazed at the accessible screen in front of him, "how long do you think I've gotten rid of them for?"
