philrancid (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
philrancid) wrote2005-08-21 08:29 am
philrancid) wrote2005-08-21 08:29 am
(no subject)
Jarl sat upright. The systems in the ship were going wild with alarms. Platty Manser had cut his way into the ship, but worse than that were the reports from the field scanners.
"Stano!"
"Yeah, boss?"
"How soon?"
"We'll be ready to leave in moments, boss. Aren't we gonna wait for the crew?"
"They're dead, Stano." A pause. Something clicked over the comm.
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it, finish the prep and get us ready to leave."
"It'll take longer to reconfigure."
"Not that much longer. Do it," Jarl growled, and then he shuddered. Something spoke to him, from out of nowhere.
--What are you doing?
"I'm fucking leaving--the field's breaking up."
--You are going nowhere. You are mine.
"My ship'll be destroyed. I'm gone."
--The ship is mine. They are all mine.
Something in Jarl ground, and there came a dull pop from inside his belly. His basic programs fought back. It was his ship, and no one could have it but him.
"Fuck yourself." He leaned forward, and tore the ship's wires out of his back, severed the ties to the thing. The comm speaker by his head came to life.
"You are mine."
Jarl put his fist through it.
Ricked punched weakly at the drive terminal, staring dully at the glowing pinpoint of light on the now-dead screen as it faded.
"Come on, you bastard, work! I need you. I don't have time to find another ship--your bedamned bot's done for me." He panted in his suit. He bounced off the ceiling, the wall behind him, and then floated back to the terminal. "I won't let you stop me, you decrepit piece of shit," he muttered as he pulled the service panel up, "I mean to ram you down that chipper's throat, and I ain't dyin' till it's done." He reached inside the guts of the terminal to manually disconnect it, when sparks flew from the exposed wiring. He dropped the panel, and saw the screeen warming up, running diagnostics and prepping the cells and the drive. Everything was running. Everything seemed to be in working order.
Ricked grunted again, and pushed off for the bridge as the ship lit up around him. As he traveled it, the ship woke up. It fired its rockets before he'd gone halfway to the cabin, and by the time he'd reached it, the ship was pulling against the graveyard's fields, trying to break free of the local gravity of several larger ships near it. Ricked evicted the dead captain from his grave chair, and took the ship off autopilot.
It clicked back on.
"Bastard," he grunted.
The field fell apart as he and the ship tore loose, and unleashed a chain reaction of pulls and tugs as the field tried to balance itself. Other ships in the field were able to break free, and they spread out in a large net, approaching Jarl and his ship.
Platty pulled the mess hall hatch out of his way, and entered. He started across the empty room, seeing all the vacant chairs, and thought of all the people who would never come back to eat here. He thought of whose fault that was. He gripped his cutter a little more tightly as he sailed over the tops of the tables. He entered the foyer to the crew dorms, and stopped as the door opened in front of him. It was Dorvee.
"Oh, God, Platty! Thank God you're back! I think Jarl's gone crazy!"
Platty stopped himself, edged back a bit.
"Dorvee. What've you done?"
Her head trembled as she cocked it in curiosity. Her voice warbled. "What do you mean?"
"Your thighs are bloody. You can't do that."
"It's not mine," she purred as she jabbed her injector through the fabric of his suit. Platty had barely even seen her move, and he was only barely able to twist away. The needle in her hand punched through a fold in his suit and popped out the other side. Shining globules of fluid rolled out of the end. He brought his minicutter up and ripped at her arm. She pushed back slightly and looked at the damage. She hissed at him.
"You hurt me." He was on her, grabbing at her other arm, for a fast one-two-three swipes with the mini, enough to sever the arm.
Her fist cracked through his faceplate before the second swipe could become the third.
"Stano. We need to move, now! Cut everything, all the unnecessaries. This is an emergency!"
"Sure, boss." Stano's calm voice came from the distant comm speaker. The one nearest Jarl crackled, tried to transmit around the gaping hole he'd put in it. He was on a second later. "Done, boss. We're green for flight."
Jarl was on the stick before Stano said 'boss'. The ship pulled back and away from the field, and Jarl started to whoop in elation, until he did a three-sixty scan. Some of the ships from the field had alreaday passed him, and were closing in on his backside.
"Fuck." Jarl powered up the evasives.
Platty heard something clang off the far wall of the mess hall, and Morvee's voice.
"Dorvee, what are you doing?" He scrabbled to tear loose the ruined faceplate. Morvee was nearby, looking at her sister, who was floating back toward the two of them. Morvee turned a look his way.
"Don't worry, Platty-baby. I'll take care of this." She smiled, reassuringly, and turned back to her sister. Morvee emitted a series of beeps and trills, and Dorvee stopped moving for a moment. Her eyes rolled, and then refocused on her sister.
"Ah, God, sis. Thanks." And then she shut down. Morvee turned back to him.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, she didn't hurt me."
"I know you're not hurt, Platty. I have scanners, you know. What I'm asking you is are you okay? She's just glitching, it's nothing to worry about--"
"Her crotch is bloody."
"Hmm. So it is. Just a simulation, baby."
"Huh? Simulation? You bitches can't bleed!"
"We're programmed for everything, hon. You've never tried for your red wings? Hey, where're you going?"
Platty pushed past. He still had someone left to deal with. "Stay here, Morvee--clean your sister up."
"Okay baby. See you," she called to his back.
Platty grunted. "Goddamn chipheads."
Rockets fired all over the ship, in sequence, as the evasives limbered up, trying to rotate the ship on two axes while the thrust took it out of the path of two junkers that were closing in on it. Jarl called out over the comm, as a thought occured to him.
"Stano. Go see how Dorvee's doing."
"Okay, boss."
"Oh, and Stano?"
"Yeah?"
Jarl said something else over the comm, and went back to wrestling his ship out of the way of the derelicts that were hurtling clumsily around him.
Platty floated past the empty crew dorms, his anger rising as he saw all the empty bunks, all the possessions strewn about, never to be reclaimed. Jarl'll probably fucking sell 'em to top off on his profits, he thought. The door at the end of the hall opened, and Stano came through.
"Stano! You're still alive?"
Stano looked up at him. He blinked. "What're you doing back, Platty? Why are you still suited up? Wha--"
"Jarl's gone batshit. He killed the crews."
"He what?"
"He killed everybody. I'm the only one that's--" A thought occured to him, and Platty stopped. "What has he told you happened?"
"He said I have to check up on Dorvee."
"Morvee shut her down." Platty turned the cutter back on. "She's gone batshit, too. She tried to kill me."
"I know." Stano floated slowly towards him. There was strange, flat look in his eyes.
"Stano--stay back, man. I don't want to hurt you, but I mean to make that sonofabitch pay. You want to stay clear of me, Stano." Platty floated back a bit, and Stano approached again, pushing off from the ceiling.
"I'm confused, Platty. Why does Jarl kill humans? Why does he make me part of it?"
"Wha--? Humans? The fuck?" Platty pushed towards Stano, and Stano sighed, pushed off, and had Platty in an iron grip before the sigh had finished. The two of them slammed into the floor, and there was a flash of orange light as the cutter went off.
Ricked fought the controls and slapped the autopilot off again.
"Listen, bastard! I know how the fuck thinks! You're just a stupid ship, and you'll fuck it up!"
The autopilot light did not come on again. Ricked grunted, and tasted blood in the back of his throat. He grabbed the sticks and bore the ship down on Jarl, full throttle, and watched as two other ships moved in to strike.
Ricked aimed for the spot that they left open. Moments after Jarl's ship was out of sight, there was a horrific impact as Jarl bounced his ship of Ricked's. Ricked fought the sticks, brought the ship out of the clumsy swarm and looped it back around to hit Jarl from behind.
Jarl grunted in surprise at the impact, and pushed the ship to follow the momentum of the hit, to drop out of the bottom of the attack pattern the derelict ships were forming. more ships from the field were joinging the attack, trying to hem him in on all sides, trying now to slap him out of the pilot seat, it felt like.
"Jarl." The voice came from behind him, and Jarl's recognition programs fed him the name.
"Ah, fuck. Not now, Platty, I've--"
The rest of the sentence was unintelligible garble, bubbling up from the glowing lump that was Jarl's neck. Orange light flared again, and the top half of Jarl's trunk fell forward, out of the chair. His hands went still, and Platty looked to the screens in front of him.
A ship was growing on the fore screens. Platty had time to yelp before he ran out of time altogether.
Ricked snarled, panting in tiny sips of air, fighting to make his hands work right, fighting to make his mind focus. Everything was getting so far away, fading. He got the ship levelled out, and tried to turn it towards Jarl. Saliva trickled down his trembling lips, and Ricked tried to push the thrust to full. His left hand fell limp, and he slumped forward, his right pushing the throttle all the way up.
His ship was still accelerating when it hit Jarl's.
There was a flash of light, and the two ship separated, trailing bits of metal, deformed, dead. Gases and fuel poured out of Jarl's ship in a hemorrhaging cloud as it spun off and struck another ship, a gigantic Terran transport, a planet-colonizer. Jarl's broken salvager bounced off of it, trailing sparks, and then erupted in a silent blue flash.
The dead ships floated around for a while, their systems shut down. Something out in their midst digested the information that it had picked from the android's brains, and it savored the deaths it had caused. The android had known of a place not too far away, where there were ships, and lives.
The dead ships of the field began to float back to their positions, and the field began to drift.
"Stano!"
"Yeah, boss?"
"How soon?"
"We'll be ready to leave in moments, boss. Aren't we gonna wait for the crew?"
"They're dead, Stano." A pause. Something clicked over the comm.
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it, finish the prep and get us ready to leave."
"It'll take longer to reconfigure."
"Not that much longer. Do it," Jarl growled, and then he shuddered. Something spoke to him, from out of nowhere.
--What are you doing?
"I'm fucking leaving--the field's breaking up."
--You are going nowhere. You are mine.
"My ship'll be destroyed. I'm gone."
--The ship is mine. They are all mine.
Something in Jarl ground, and there came a dull pop from inside his belly. His basic programs fought back. It was his ship, and no one could have it but him.
"Fuck yourself." He leaned forward, and tore the ship's wires out of his back, severed the ties to the thing. The comm speaker by his head came to life.
"You are mine."
Jarl put his fist through it.
Ricked punched weakly at the drive terminal, staring dully at the glowing pinpoint of light on the now-dead screen as it faded.
"Come on, you bastard, work! I need you. I don't have time to find another ship--your bedamned bot's done for me." He panted in his suit. He bounced off the ceiling, the wall behind him, and then floated back to the terminal. "I won't let you stop me, you decrepit piece of shit," he muttered as he pulled the service panel up, "I mean to ram you down that chipper's throat, and I ain't dyin' till it's done." He reached inside the guts of the terminal to manually disconnect it, when sparks flew from the exposed wiring. He dropped the panel, and saw the screeen warming up, running diagnostics and prepping the cells and the drive. Everything was running. Everything seemed to be in working order.
Ricked grunted again, and pushed off for the bridge as the ship lit up around him. As he traveled it, the ship woke up. It fired its rockets before he'd gone halfway to the cabin, and by the time he'd reached it, the ship was pulling against the graveyard's fields, trying to break free of the local gravity of several larger ships near it. Ricked evicted the dead captain from his grave chair, and took the ship off autopilot.
It clicked back on.
"Bastard," he grunted.
The field fell apart as he and the ship tore loose, and unleashed a chain reaction of pulls and tugs as the field tried to balance itself. Other ships in the field were able to break free, and they spread out in a large net, approaching Jarl and his ship.
Platty pulled the mess hall hatch out of his way, and entered. He started across the empty room, seeing all the vacant chairs, and thought of all the people who would never come back to eat here. He thought of whose fault that was. He gripped his cutter a little more tightly as he sailed over the tops of the tables. He entered the foyer to the crew dorms, and stopped as the door opened in front of him. It was Dorvee.
"Oh, God, Platty! Thank God you're back! I think Jarl's gone crazy!"
Platty stopped himself, edged back a bit.
"Dorvee. What've you done?"
Her head trembled as she cocked it in curiosity. Her voice warbled. "What do you mean?"
"Your thighs are bloody. You can't do that."
"It's not mine," she purred as she jabbed her injector through the fabric of his suit. Platty had barely even seen her move, and he was only barely able to twist away. The needle in her hand punched through a fold in his suit and popped out the other side. Shining globules of fluid rolled out of the end. He brought his minicutter up and ripped at her arm. She pushed back slightly and looked at the damage. She hissed at him.
"You hurt me." He was on her, grabbing at her other arm, for a fast one-two-three swipes with the mini, enough to sever the arm.
Her fist cracked through his faceplate before the second swipe could become the third.
"Stano. We need to move, now! Cut everything, all the unnecessaries. This is an emergency!"
"Sure, boss." Stano's calm voice came from the distant comm speaker. The one nearest Jarl crackled, tried to transmit around the gaping hole he'd put in it. He was on a second later. "Done, boss. We're green for flight."
Jarl was on the stick before Stano said 'boss'. The ship pulled back and away from the field, and Jarl started to whoop in elation, until he did a three-sixty scan. Some of the ships from the field had alreaday passed him, and were closing in on his backside.
"Fuck." Jarl powered up the evasives.
Platty heard something clang off the far wall of the mess hall, and Morvee's voice.
"Dorvee, what are you doing?" He scrabbled to tear loose the ruined faceplate. Morvee was nearby, looking at her sister, who was floating back toward the two of them. Morvee turned a look his way.
"Don't worry, Platty-baby. I'll take care of this." She smiled, reassuringly, and turned back to her sister. Morvee emitted a series of beeps and trills, and Dorvee stopped moving for a moment. Her eyes rolled, and then refocused on her sister.
"Ah, God, sis. Thanks." And then she shut down. Morvee turned back to him.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, she didn't hurt me."
"I know you're not hurt, Platty. I have scanners, you know. What I'm asking you is are you okay? She's just glitching, it's nothing to worry about--"
"Her crotch is bloody."
"Hmm. So it is. Just a simulation, baby."
"Huh? Simulation? You bitches can't bleed!"
"We're programmed for everything, hon. You've never tried for your red wings? Hey, where're you going?"
Platty pushed past. He still had someone left to deal with. "Stay here, Morvee--clean your sister up."
"Okay baby. See you," she called to his back.
Platty grunted. "Goddamn chipheads."
Rockets fired all over the ship, in sequence, as the evasives limbered up, trying to rotate the ship on two axes while the thrust took it out of the path of two junkers that were closing in on it. Jarl called out over the comm, as a thought occured to him.
"Stano. Go see how Dorvee's doing."
"Okay, boss."
"Oh, and Stano?"
"Yeah?"
Jarl said something else over the comm, and went back to wrestling his ship out of the way of the derelicts that were hurtling clumsily around him.
Platty floated past the empty crew dorms, his anger rising as he saw all the empty bunks, all the possessions strewn about, never to be reclaimed. Jarl'll probably fucking sell 'em to top off on his profits, he thought. The door at the end of the hall opened, and Stano came through.
"Stano! You're still alive?"
Stano looked up at him. He blinked. "What're you doing back, Platty? Why are you still suited up? Wha--"
"Jarl's gone batshit. He killed the crews."
"He what?"
"He killed everybody. I'm the only one that's--" A thought occured to him, and Platty stopped. "What has he told you happened?"
"He said I have to check up on Dorvee."
"Morvee shut her down." Platty turned the cutter back on. "She's gone batshit, too. She tried to kill me."
"I know." Stano floated slowly towards him. There was strange, flat look in his eyes.
"Stano--stay back, man. I don't want to hurt you, but I mean to make that sonofabitch pay. You want to stay clear of me, Stano." Platty floated back a bit, and Stano approached again, pushing off from the ceiling.
"I'm confused, Platty. Why does Jarl kill humans? Why does he make me part of it?"
"Wha--? Humans? The fuck?" Platty pushed towards Stano, and Stano sighed, pushed off, and had Platty in an iron grip before the sigh had finished. The two of them slammed into the floor, and there was a flash of orange light as the cutter went off.
Ricked fought the controls and slapped the autopilot off again.
"Listen, bastard! I know how the fuck thinks! You're just a stupid ship, and you'll fuck it up!"
The autopilot light did not come on again. Ricked grunted, and tasted blood in the back of his throat. He grabbed the sticks and bore the ship down on Jarl, full throttle, and watched as two other ships moved in to strike.
Ricked aimed for the spot that they left open. Moments after Jarl's ship was out of sight, there was a horrific impact as Jarl bounced his ship of Ricked's. Ricked fought the sticks, brought the ship out of the clumsy swarm and looped it back around to hit Jarl from behind.
Jarl grunted in surprise at the impact, and pushed the ship to follow the momentum of the hit, to drop out of the bottom of the attack pattern the derelict ships were forming. more ships from the field were joinging the attack, trying to hem him in on all sides, trying now to slap him out of the pilot seat, it felt like.
"Jarl." The voice came from behind him, and Jarl's recognition programs fed him the name.
"Ah, fuck. Not now, Platty, I've--"
The rest of the sentence was unintelligible garble, bubbling up from the glowing lump that was Jarl's neck. Orange light flared again, and the top half of Jarl's trunk fell forward, out of the chair. His hands went still, and Platty looked to the screens in front of him.
A ship was growing on the fore screens. Platty had time to yelp before he ran out of time altogether.
Ricked snarled, panting in tiny sips of air, fighting to make his hands work right, fighting to make his mind focus. Everything was getting so far away, fading. He got the ship levelled out, and tried to turn it towards Jarl. Saliva trickled down his trembling lips, and Ricked tried to push the thrust to full. His left hand fell limp, and he slumped forward, his right pushing the throttle all the way up.
His ship was still accelerating when it hit Jarl's.
There was a flash of light, and the two ship separated, trailing bits of metal, deformed, dead. Gases and fuel poured out of Jarl's ship in a hemorrhaging cloud as it spun off and struck another ship, a gigantic Terran transport, a planet-colonizer. Jarl's broken salvager bounced off of it, trailing sparks, and then erupted in a silent blue flash.
The dead ships floated around for a while, their systems shut down. Something out in their midst digested the information that it had picked from the android's brains, and it savored the deaths it had caused. The android had known of a place not too far away, where there were ships, and lives.
The dead ships of the field began to float back to their positions, and the field began to drift.