Flowered Metal

A hiss filled the gravity-absent, white textured plastic paneled tunnel. The kind that looked like it belonged on the dash of a low-budget ABC car the poor drove, and Doctor Jeremy White hated it. Long stainless steel handrails had been bolted on all 4 walls, running down their entire length as a ring of white LED lights formed a square ring every ten feet.

As he floated through Valkyria Weapon Solutions Internal Space station, he read the black warning signs that'd been plastered every 10 panels. The first one being "Have valuable information on one of our competitors, or know someone who does? Call your local Espionage Officer today!", or "Please keep one hand on the handrails at all times. Offenders will be given write-ups. Repeat offenders will be jettisoned."

Dr. White mumbled something incoherent as he passed a Light Frame Worker standing guard in a small hidden enclave. Its faded and scratched once-glossy frame was like a stain against the one pristine wall. Its anorexic body was hideous as it was practical in that it used the bare minimum of parts to pass a purse-tight government contract. Its short hexagon tubed head housed a single camera and its processing unit.

Three stainless steel hydraulic pipes, positioned in a triangle linked it to the somewhat rounded rectangle torso before linking off into blade-like arms. It held a Primal-War M4A1 rifle, with several large magazines. The Light Frame even had a barely noticeable faded emblem marking it as an old-war "Devil Dog" as an ex-marine attachment bot.

"Piece of shit," Dr. White snarled as he passed it. "They're really giving my treasure the shittiest equipment in the fleet." The drone only tilted its head in confusion before returning to its end-of-life post.

He floated on, attaching himself to the wall above him to avoid getting near the old-tech. The man felt his mood plummet even further as he readjusted a pistol on his hip; hiding it the Light Frame primitive scanning algorithms. He proceeded onward until he reached the end, and with a flash of the briefcase to the camera over the door, it hissed open.

"Welcome aboard Pathfinder Omega, Doctor Jeremy White," A sweet, almost sultry voice came over the overhead speaker. "Admiral Walker and Diplomat Theresa are already awaiting you on the Bridge."

"Thank you, Opal," Dr. White said.

"I am not Opal, Doctor," The ship's AI responded. "I am FOWAI."

The doctor didn't respond, smirking to himself as he floated onward into the Pathfinder. The tunnel was faintly illuminated with the walls on either side of him complete plexiglass. Beyond the thick transparent tunnel, two open bays were on either side - the tunnel itself burrowed through the dividing support wall. Each bay was completely taken up with a plethora of Orbital Resupply Drop Pods , all of them were various sizes for different supply grounds.

Unlike the Light Frames, these were new, Custom and freshly assembled. Though, no doubt they'd have sourced used pods if they could, but just about all of the systems onboard this intergalactic ship had to be made from scratch.

A half-minute later, he'd crossed the long tunnel; mulling over his thoughts and plans as he did. The coming door cracked with a hiss just before he reached it. It opened briskly and silently to reveal a monorail carriage that had plexiglass panels on all four sides. As he slipped in, he gripped the handle on the inside right side and used it to swing himself around to where the control panel was. A diagram of the ship's layout had been placed there.

Tens of rooms had been mushed together, all color-coded for munitions, material, drone, and other major storage rooms. A single arrow pointed down to the ship's center, indicating where he was at the moment. He clicked the button that was labeled "Bow". The monorail vibrated as its systems took the command and sent itself forward.

He passed different rooms, all of them holding cargo for the Pathfinder's mission. That was until he passed through a thick wall, thicker than the ones before. Instead of the dimly lit storage rooms before, it turned into a nicer, but still industrial, assembly line on the left side and a foundry on the right. The monorail came to a slow before it halted. A chime rang through the intercom as the door opened.

"They really did outfit you with an Auto-Forge," Dr. White cooed.

The assembly room had been illuminated with bright LEDs, while the foundry kept the light low. He wasn't versed in the smelting process, but if he remembered correctly; it had something to do with seeing the color of the melted metals.

The doctor turned his eyes upward, seeing the unpainted reinforced core that was the Pathfinder's forward. It'd been quite the 30 years, and along with nearly deathly levels of stress but he did it. The web of reinforced steel had been a war in of itself as it was completely off plan. The VWSI hadn't planned for the Pathfinder to ever de-orbit, but Dr. White wasn't stupid.

Omega was a large intergalactic ship, and while they outfitted it with plenty of sensors and programs to help it avoid colliding with debris - he didn't want to chance it.

He had spent twenty years creating the Foward Operating Warmind Artificial Intelligence (FOWAI). Not to be confused with the primitive "Warmind" that'd been used during the inter-continental war 50 years ago. No, the FOWAI had been his own invention and life achievement. He was not about to let some sleaze-bag rich guy scuttle his creation because he didn't want to leave his homeworld.

In fact, the Pathfinder mission had become what it is today if only because of the doctor's pestering and repeated calls to various funding governments. He'd given his darling the best fighting chance he could, today would be the show if it would come to fruition.

He floated across the observation deck that rested opposite the assembly area. He reached the far wall and used it to propel himself towards the stairwell. He gripped the stair's handrail and pulled himself upward until he came across a door. Dr. White grasped that door's wall handle before he waved the briefcase next to the glass keypad next to it,

The door opened, and he floated in. The room hummed as the walls blinked with various blues, reds, and yellows. Two pillars rose from the roof and floor's center where they met. Inbetween their metal jaws, a large black tinted orb that had two large rubber tubes on the top and bottom rested. A large prism-like orb of light flickered in the tinted orb's core.

"Ah, my dear Opal," Dr. White muttered with such love as he floated over to the orb's pillar. Its base was alight with a myriad of different processes.

"I am not Opal," The FOWAI responded, neither impatient nor offended. "I am FOWAI."

The response that came from the speakers overhead only served to make the old man smile. He nodded, accepting her answer. Dr. White opened his briefcase before he extracted a large black block that resembled a smartphone. He came to a stop at the base, where a single open compartment had been left. It was the same size as the device in his hand. Without ceremony, he slid the device in.

The ship's lights went black for a moment, then everything rebooted. A screen pushed out of the pillar, along with a keyboard. It was black with a single flicker of the indictor before it began to run through its booting process.