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Post by littlekreen on Aug 13, 2018 15:07:50 GMT -6
The floor convinced to lift and reseal by a metal prybar and an electrical shock to a mount arm through the prised open slot. Nearby braced floor tiles popped open long enough to try and shed the irritation long enough for for a small Midgra to squeeze his way down. The crack of white light vanishing to dark green lighting optimized for power usage given human sight. Most of the subfloor had a vast array of equipment in it but most of it on one side looked either melted, scavenged, or otherwise cooked. Some components melted in ways only radiation could accomplish. They were well sorted however as the danger had passed and Sukarma long since had the whole interior remediated.
Secondary systems, while capable of informing Sukarma something was amiss, were not quite as passively wise when there as so much broken inside. The inventory system quietly registered 'loose amorphous cargo' as Midgra crawled across the underlayer. As he laid designs for Sukarma's gleaming cargo the inventory system patiently formed its own ideas about Midgra as the loose cargo 'tumbled' to a stop. The bars were very pure but as extrusions were nearly rectangular so each weighed a fair bit more for length. Quite smooth as well when it slipped and made a clang there was none yet in earshot. A passive cargo management system raises an alert for Sukarma whom was rather busy at the moment. Small tentacle and metal loader arms watched Midgra tracking the roaming objects scurrying into a hiding hole.
'Loose cargo: Amorphous solid, severed equipment, gold bar.'
Sukarma nodded at Alke and looked up, a nearby console bleeping as a flexible fringe ramp curled up from the corners to stand straight. The cargo aperture dilated slightly more to permit a humm of hydraulic impellers raising the cargo platform. Its two occupants and EVA suit raised into the main hallway. Exterior layers were quite thick seen up close and the lighter portions thumped ever so slightly with channels beneath them. it slowly bent upward underneath them outer ribs appearing at the edges as they pivoted with substrate flowing back in. The corridor had a slight green glow coming from vents into the subflooring as well through a portion currently wriggling to realign itself. Densely packed material hidden underneath.
"The four crew compartments are just up the hall. Behind us is engineering." Sukarma gestured to a set of four bulkheads through a door before another bulkhead at the end of a hallway.
Engineering and cargo was partly the same place in an open design. Though there were modular holes in the ceiling and floor where wells of part substrate showed heavy airtight mounts for walls under clip-secured grating. A small tool arm looked up at Alke with a shining green light from beneath looser cargo grating at the back then continued observing out of view. The engineering area itself had yellow plates set in the floor of various set square footprints and heavy spars between them to the rib frame. Though no apparent tools other than a vast abundance of power transformers, fuses, and cable boxes hard-mounted to a frame. There was soft set of metal dings and scuffs before one of the yellow squares lifted away and a toolbox squirted diagonally into view. It reoriented with a wirr of anchor bolts the blue emission volumes and arms holding it vanished with a hidden reassembly of the nearby floor.
She pointed at one of the rooms and the door opened, "You can use any room you want but that one has a computer that still works. I kinda had to use some of the peripherals of the rest to fix stuff. It's got water and a small bathroom. You can watch movies or something from storage or use the linearized VM for AI code. I can store a lot of data. Some of it is in deep storage though until the bus gets repaired."
A sheepish smile paled her skin, "I can see in your room but I promise I won't look at analog feeds unless you ask me to on the comms."
"Though something got loose in cargo. I'll leave the suit here if you wanna look at it. I'll get ready for takeoff while you get settled?", she darkened to blue with yellow streaks at the inquiry.
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Post by demikara on Aug 13, 2018 15:26:52 GMT -6
"Sounds good to me. I'll take the suit with me, make certain I can use it fully." She had to be able to do that and it wasn't exactly, well. It may need some tweaking, but Alke was good at that. The mechanic supposed, she'd have her choice of bunks under the circumstances and headed up the hall to check them out. She planned on taking the largest one, because why not? It wasn't like the avatar needed a bunk. On finding it, she stretched and grinned. "Harold, Alfred, unload." Each arm unfolded and dropped a duffel bag to the floor. "Wall mount." She said simply and the configuration of the bag altered. She looked around the room, then pressed the pack against the wall. "Mag lock, engaged." There. that was a good spot for her bots.
That done, she began to unpack her clothes, carefully folding them and storing them in the provided drawers. The room wasn't much, but it would do. With a grin, she pulled out a child-sized arm from her duffel and held it to the wall in another spot, manually engaging the magnetic lock. There. The boys and her first arm up, that just left...
She pulled two pictures out of the duffel bag's pocket and a small handful of lighter weight magnets, then hung the pictures up. The bunk was sparse, but it was hers, and she was sure she'd probably accumulate more things, given time. Alke stepped back to admire the photos. One was her, her brother, about age ten, and her parents. At the time she had already been building her own arms. The one in the picture was largely just framing with ribbons tied on it for the photo. The second photo was of her brother, his wife, and their three kids. They were doing well, and Alke was thrilled to have an actual physical photo of them.
They should be ready for take off now. The woman wondered how smooth it would be and if she should brace herself. Some ships were rockier than others.
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Post by littlekreen on Aug 13, 2018 18:38:13 GMT -6
Sukama followed her to the doors and pointed to a small panel on the hallway wall, "If there's anything not running you might have to flip some of the fuses or mesh a dead lead. If my subconscious leads are dead that's ganglion panel."
Continuing on Sukarma took a quick left after the door into the mess. It was easier taking off if her id was in the sarcophagus on a direct line. An inverted pear shape of heavy reinforced pseudoganglion in an otherwise tan and white mess hall the exposed space had quaking ribs with dendritic growths ogling the main red hull covered in paler nerve clusters. The cover a thick plate in two halves on arms. Several optical hubs littered the concave space indicators blinking rapidly small screens showing multiplexed transmissions and error stats. Several in the orange or red. Others on rib 2 and 3 dark entirely. She stepped in backward to a looped tentacle cupping her heel that pulled her inside. Metal arms with brace plates and optical connections on spikes pushed through her shoulders. As anchoring hyphae extended to press her firmly down the cover came down and her eyes closed.
The inventory system said it found a gold bar loose and probably a cracked cask. The cargo deliver came while they were talking the dock workers were quicker than she thought. She told the inventory system to gather and secure everything as bits of her mind went off and did what they were supposed to. She felt the need to use the nylon thermoplastic but figured it was just cargo so authorized it. Like washing dishes while watching TV anything familiar enough could run unconscious just scrubbing on autopilot. She moved on to secure external hatches as hollow thuds of reinforced metal anchored the cargo ribs together. Amorphous alloy anchors as threads through channels of flesh in a woven network. The port hull creaked but was more a thinly heard suffering given the odd whimper from consoles. The scarred surface still hurt bad.
The room's air conduit loosed a thunking sound as external baffles closed isolating from the outside atmosphere. The umbilical dropping out as dockworkers wrapped up outside as the last connection. The dockworkers scattered and exited the hangar with due haste the umbilicus easily and quickly stored. Tanked up on water she could go for a while now and had several pounds of random popular seed packages labeled as 'edible' she hadn't the faintest idea how to use. She hoped there was something else to use for flavoring Alke's food than the five 20kg sacks of iodized salt she'd bought.
The elephantine legs made a hollow bong across the dock though Sukarma's inertial dampening erased the shock. A nudge across the body to compensate for movement. Though one could still feel slight walking from the mix of true and false G. An odd sensation that stabilized as the front landers got to the edge of oblivion. Dock killed the artificial gravity so legs could retract. There was a change in momentum as tentacles pushed away from the dock using the frame and blue field rails push against the interior. A faint nimbus grabbed the pictures on her desk keeping them from sliding off and pressed against Alke to resist the momentum.
Just a bit earlier an inventory control system advanced on the Midgra after watching the hiding amorphous volume. In a flurry of movement arms metal skidded across the underframe as helper cilia emerged then retracted in bursts of small flashlights. A few grasped the dropped blade a host grabbed the bar. A larger needle gun was being assembled in the background with a nylon spool. The metal arms instead raced over, grabbed the Midgra's limbs by the handful reorganizing the limbs to be more space efficient. Namely head-first into the hole against one wall. The bar was pressed in beside and the knife'point emerged As an arm deftly slipped between his thighs all the way back.
The needle gun approached forthwith the scent of melting thermoplastic from all around him with the Epepepepepep of a bouncing needle gluing ends of nylon cord to support structures. Gold bar tethered right next to him. Other noises came quickly from behind the arms load-balancing cargo with a very quick game of tetris squeezing modules and adding brace structures to hold them. An unfortunate game of tetris that didn't clear with Midgra as a zigzag piece.
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Post by davien on Aug 20, 2018 12:47:03 GMT -6
Midgra looked up, listening for the footsteps before realizing something very uncomfortable was about to happen, watching the metal arms approach him with little to no time to react, only getting turned about a quarter of the way around. He let out several sounds involuntarily as his body was contorted in ways he never quite thought possible, besides when a crazy cult follower tried to show him something called "yoga" a few spaceports ago. He tried to take a deep breath as he began to look feverishly around for the things causing the symphony of sounds and sensations happening around him as he was pinned into the wall, protesting all the while. Midgra could do nothing but fill his lungs as best he could, turn his face to the side, and cry out for help, using several explatives.
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Post by demikara on Aug 21, 2018 5:23:59 GMT -6
Once they had taken off, Alke left her quarters. But she could hear a faint shouting... uncertain, she followed the sound to the cargo hold. there she paused and couldn't help but burst into laughter at the sight of the small furry being trapped in thermoplastic. Amused she moved closer and looked over him, pulling a knife from one of her pockets. "You know, I'm fairly certain I'm the only member of the crew on the ship." She said and sighed. "Unless Sukarma failed to mention another person at least." Still, she couldn't just leave someone trapped like this. Carefully, Alke cut the other free and helped him down from his position, assuming he'd let her help him.
"So. Welcome to Sukarma, presumed stowaway. I suppose we'll have to figure out what to do with you, won't we?" She didn't know just yet what the policy was on stowaways. Still, she knew who would know. "There's no point running by the way. We've already taken off. So come on. I'll take you to...the captain." Well, to the ship itself, but the other was close enough to the captain to count, given she piloted herself.
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Post by littlekreen on Aug 25, 2018 17:28:06 GMT -6
The way down to deep cargo was less a stairwell or elevator than a small square of four identical labeled tiles. Though the AR view blinked on the tablet to indicate a virtual engineering control in proximity. "Lower Cargo" writ on the panels as text among bright yellow and black caution lines. The tiles themselves half a meter square the entry wasn't small by any means. Though lacking an obvious handle other than an 'emergency' release nearby. Approaching showed why as small arms underneath folded back the floor sucking plating into the underside. Cyan on midnight blue tentacles re-laced with anchor points as the hole filled with translucent blue steps. Though a bit sharp an angle. The belly of the ship showed electronics accesses on most vertical supports and struts remaining storage covered the entire lower surface. The ceiling was not terribly high but walkable at a duck. Small cilia of tentacle arms facilitated cargo movement here, or in this case physical movement, by emerged multi-directional locking clamps from their pointed tips. Stretching, weaving, and anchoring into a lattice to supply a support plane for nearby emissions. Small squares of flat polygons of force fields projected to space in between. A small radius followed Alke moving across the cargo floor.
They'd been drifting out of the dock as Sukarma used positioning engines to move them forward. Fuel lines angrily blink red and yellow near the ganglion closer to the damaged area. Sukarma was quite busy with small flares of plasma across her dorsal and ventral sides. Though the ventral side had a split for the cargo dock. Rather than a rumble of engines faint nudges of the inertial system compensated for inertia as a plasma line siezed for safety and Sukarma had to rebalance. Maintaining some imaginary 'down' in spite of the list maintained by subconscious effort in spite of relative forces. Force pressed against current body position though it preferred the torso. Perhaps one might need to get their sea-legs as to her description of false-gravity. Something less a unified force than an imaginary construct. She hadn't the technical acumen or physics knowledge to integrate the gravity plating the rest of the ships had.
The Midgra, recategorized from 'anomalous mass' to 'anomalous cargo' by the small mostly empty item descriptor window in AR. He have any such false G minding him to the floor. It did make an effort to dampen his momentum however relative to Sukarma's forward movement. He floated in place otherwise microgravity as Alke cut him free. It didn't relent as the anomalous descriptor hadn't a 'crew' G-manifold attached to it either. Though one could certainly change that with the tablet.
The lower access would remain open even after they went up. It did time out eventually or Sukarma would close it up. Avatar's eyes in darting REM exposed at a wall just forward in the crew mess and entry area. Heavy sarcophagus vault open though covered in small moving lines carrying optical feeds. Several large feeds jammed into her rib-cage elevating it slightly. The avatar had more complex metabolic needs than she could digest with it after all.
Her voice came over the conn, "OK I'm almost far enough from the dock now. I'm starting a pivot and break then I can switch to the main engines so I don't have to annex my avatar. It'll be a few minutes. Wait, what's going on in the cargo hold again?"
Small flashlights started popping out of vents in the walls. Sporting camera tools as Sukarma started trying to get an eye on Alke in the undercroft.
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Post by demikara on Sept 3, 2018 6:57:51 GMT -6
"We have a stowaway, Sukarma. We're close enough I can probably take one of the shuttles to return him." Alke manhandled the stowaway, pinning his arms to his back. He was small enough and she had plenty of strength, false arm and all. "Which way's a shuttle so we can get him back?" Hopefully it was an accident, but she wasn't about to let the stowaway speak up. She thought she had seen an airlock off the mess, so she started heading that way. Hopefully she was right. Either way, they had to get the stowaway off before anything else.
The mechanic frogmarched the stowaway to the mess and eyes the airlock door. "I'm assuming that's one of them?" She had noticed the shuttles when she had seen the ship outside. They seemed to be in decent condition, though she admitted, she hadn't seen them up close.
Right now though, she was itching to get started on repairs so that Sukarma could really get working well. Some of the ones she had seen were rather shoddy, so those would need improved as well, and she already had a feeling of several others. If she asked though, the other could likely get her a list along with a prioritization of the repairs needed. Given the avatar was also the ship, the other would definitely know what was needed, when and how.
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Post by littlekreen on Sept 3, 2018 7:31:53 GMT -6
"Stowaway?" Echoed Sukarma's voice from somewhere in the tangled undercroft, "Is that why I'm missing a gold bar?" The ships are off the mess or across the way between the strategic room and lab."
Sukarma finally found Alke emerging from the undercroft as the tunnels and piping down there left quite a bit of ground to cover. A lot of the cameras down there just didn't work with some ganglion link broken or electronics shorted out. Sukarma's face appeared on the ganglion panel near the crew quarters animating from stillness with a deep breath. The background missing entirely as it was just a projection of her Id after all. A camera near the crew quarters followed her frog-march of the intruder.
Her eyes widened in the ganglion view at spying the small fellow, "OH! There you are I guess that's what the anomalous cargo was? I didn't have the executive to spare to quantify how cute he is! I totally want to pet him."
There was a huff of the inner airlock from the Mess, "Um, the transport's a little singed with the rest of my port side so you might. The damaged engines might yaw to that side with even thrust demands but it's still space-worthy."
In the airlock itself were two sockets for suits, one empty. There were even some lockers marked Equipment and Weapons which both buzzed with a mag-lock as the stowaway approached.
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Post by demikara on Sept 3, 2018 9:57:40 GMT -6
"Probably. I think I saw the gold bar near him though." She opened the port and grinned. "I'll be right back without our extra cargo." She assured the other and stepped inside, forcing the kid ahead of her. The hatch closed behind her and she took him to the transport buckling him in. It didn't take her long to get the transport working either. She wasn't much of a pilot, but given the damage, she wouldn't be surprised if Sukarma couldn't quite pilot this. That was fine, she could do some basic piloting, so long as no one expected anything spectacular.
It didn't take long to get the stowaway back to the station and to take off and rejoin Sukarma. Longer than she would have liked, and it looked like the transport had an AI also. She'd have to do some repairs to it as well, she could tell. The other hadn't lied when she said it would aw to the damaged side. She had been able to counter it some, but the shuttle would definitely need repair as well. Rejoining Sukarma carefully, she stepped in. "There's that. We can probably head out now." She admitted. Then she paused and grinned. "Oh! If you want to send a list of the things I need to fix with a prioritization level on them, I can get started right off. The work had seemed pretty extensive after all.
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Post by littlekreen on Sept 3, 2018 15:33:27 GMT -6
Body seen among the open sarcophagus at the rear of the mess it moved not at all when she spoke. The optical communications hyphae and metal umbilicus in her keep her inside as well. Face placid the eyes darted back and forth as if the avatar were asleep and deeply engaged. The exposed vault doors were extremely thick revealing layers of overlaid non-newtonian kinetic packets to resist projectiles. There were still a few spent ones filled full of holes in one corner of the exposed area.
The voice came from multiple places in the mess, "That must be the other thing that got loose alright I'll go put it away."
Sukarama went looking through her logs now stopped perpendicular to the station. The inventory control system immediately started indexing as her head in the sarcophagus listed left to right. Indexing was really backlogged especially with all the new bits and bobs she'd added managed to get a command in to reduce indexing priority. The starving threads no longer clambering over her focus managed the executive to read anything. She moved one of her arms over and quietly replaced and secured the gold bar again. Busying herself with cleaning the thermoplastic off the area and stuffing it back into the thermoplastic spooler to recycle.
The ship did seem like it had an AI but it was missing the spark of wisdom. The UI strangely dense and literal unable to react to vocal stimuli. The engineering readout running entirely in secondary processing, among many other less pressing things, yelled why. Text in the log proclaiming bright red: INSUFFICIENT EXECUTIVE TO ALLOCATE AKLIPPE.EGO WITHIN SUKARMA.ID. SUPEREGO DEGENERATION ONGOING (32%)
As Alke got close enough to the dock Sukarma grabbed the docking anchor at its side manifesting a blue ring inside. She helped guide the anteship into place its airlock slipping open to clunk physical anchors closed. The airlock cycled quickly inner bits squeaking the frame of the injured side still stiff thus slightly bent. The walls moved and tensed as ribs fit the ship snugly within the damaged socket. Sukarma was still in her sarcophagus when Alke docked trying to let the inventory system catch up to all the things that she'd bought. Her slumbering head jerked as she realized Alke was talking a camera-lead poking out from the ceiling to listen. Backfeed pushed her mind in fast-forward catching her sense of reality up to the present moment.
Her voice was distracted, "Uh, It'll take me a minute to let some systems catch up but I'll try and transfer some of the ring zero errors to you!"
The pad slowly filled line by line as broken optical links all over the dock side she'd just entered either severed or crushed. Half the ganglion routers were doing a vagus bypass through substrate. There were hosts of nodules all over that side listed as substrate malignancy and to expel radiohazard.
The other larger equipment damaged indicated below the dock was the ganglion panel itself which read: "Radiation damage (grey ghost phase, recoverable). Malignancy remediation required. Build or transfer ganglion blades from another ganglion for mitosis repair. Operating at 33%"
The functionality readouts given the damage certainly said that everything in this deep space vessel was overengineered for robustness in spite of damage rather than speed. Most of the hardware said it was still operative though depressed severely system-wide by the Vagus traffic.
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Post by demikara on Sept 9, 2018 12:29:21 GMT -6
Alke read over the pad as it loaded up and sighed. "I'll get started. I'll need the same info for the transports. There was damage there too. Something about super ego degeneration?" She wasn't certain what that meant, entirely. But she'd do what she could to mitigate it. It was her first time working on a bio-ship after all and there was a bit of a knowledge gap. She'd definitely be going over the courses and notes later tonight. For now though, she grabbed her toolbag from where she had stashed it and got started on what she knew how to fix. After all, there was no use letting it go to waste and if she was reading this right, the entire ship was suffering badly. "It looks like I'm going to need to replace some of your ganglion blades. It says build or transfer, but given your extensive damage, I'm thinking build might be better." She said going over the pad and bringing up some more information on ganglion and their repair. It wasn't simple stuff, but she could do it. It would just take steady hands.
Well, she had those in abundance, given her pack. Carefully, she hoisted her pack onto her back and made certain Harold and Alfred were active and fully juiced up. They should be good enough to get started. "Unless you have spare ganglia, then we're going to have to build them. So let me get a look at what's needed, and we'll use the replicator?" She spoke to Sukarma even as she moved around. the other was the ship. Alke assumed she would be heard.
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Post by littlekreen on Sept 9, 2018 14:11:01 GMT -6
The ganglion references pulled in sluggishly from deep storage as deprioritized as it was for network bandwidth. The ganglions were an optical interface backend and robust nutrient distribution channel. It was swaddled with the same networked microcells that formed the rest of the substrate. Though they were noted as programmed to adhere to the metal frame according to a coded manifold. Four gel packs were the operative portions containing human nerve cells and a loose framework of substrate acting as glial cells. Nerve stem cells from the nutrient channels came from the main ganglion into their care. The small glial threads were to move the cells into place then the ganglion blade gathered. Microdischarges from the blade fuse synthetic extracellular matrix from the gel itself.
The mitosis repair very much a brain unit slowly UV lithographed into existence. There were complex mathematics describing the austere code that the glial used to reconstruct a broken node. Other more conventional code resided in the coprocessors for data and life support regulation. The addressable micro-capacitor banks involved had to be tightly regulated as not to immolate nerve cells. In many of the broken ganglion blades minimal physical coprocessors were damaged by radiation if not the solid-state capacitors chemically altered and useless. Neural packs turning a faint grey overall from their normal blue due to blocked channels, inhibited biofiltering, infection, shorts by leaking, starvation, and/or dysregulation. The name given to that status very much a reference to the 'walking ghost' phase of acute radiation poisoning given by conventional doctors. Unlike humans the glial could migrate what healthy brain matter remained to replacement thinking cases re-lithographing the extracellular pattern for replacement stem cells to home themselves.
It took Sukarma a minute to answer as she'd straddled deep storage and the beleaguered inventory system to answer the query. Among the engineering readout an executive load readout redlined until the download was done. Secondary showed the vagus load as a grey bar approaching then receding from the right whenever redlining occured. It retracted slowly as Sukarma caught up to the present moment again.
Her voice was quiet moving along consoles that did not light up, "Um... yeah. Aklippe and Fulvio are hurting too. They're their own psyches but need space in my Executive to think with. There's not enough of me for even one so the coma is eroding their psyche. I still have a few weeks until they start getting severe brain damage."
She sent a rough engineering overview of the dropship interiors and indicated a panel below the pilot in red, "The main ganglion interface is just ahead of their avatar cavity. It's hard for me to get at current high-level information remotely without them awake."
The rear of the engineering area opened up as Sukarma revealed a plasma channel multi-material weaver. Shielding channels to contain energized plasma and vapor-deposit with tool-arms. Other conventional sintering and 3d-printing arms were in racks to one side of the two meter wide hollow column. Various smaller thermoplastic and specialized printers were squirting out of walls. Navy blue tool-arms busily plugged them into the utility framework.
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Post by demikara on Sept 9, 2018 14:21:40 GMT -6
"Then I need to work fast on you so we prevent that." It was a good thing she had an extra set of hands. That said, Molly stepped into the multi-material weaver and got to work, producing ganglion, setting her pad to read out to her the information it had on repairing them and other thigns she'd need to know about repairing the ship. The mechanic didn't mind getting started right off. the ship clearly needed some help and that was what she had been hired for. Eyes on what she was doing, Alke worked, replacing much of the damaged ganglion on the transports so that they would both be working better. That done, she got started on other repairs, and kept going until she fell asleep in the middle of removing a screw inside one of the panels so she could access the next repair on the list.
Let it not be said that Alke wasn't worth every penny paid. She didn't mind setting this pace at all.
Next to her Harold waved to her a few times, not inside the panel as the pack was too bulky for him and Alfred to her there. Alfred nudged her and the two seemed a moment disappointed before they stored themselves and went into hibernation mode. Alke would wake up when she woke up. their rudimentary intelligence couldn't do much more than realize she had fallen asleep in the middle of a repair again.
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Post by littlekreen on Sept 9, 2018 14:50:27 GMT -6
Sukarma slipped in a pressurized coffee maker among the appliances as Alke inserted ganglion blades eager to help as she could. She confirmed that blades connected or not and more ephemeral 'something hurts' from the intuition of sapient intelligence that raw status data couldn't easily discern. As more and more entered she could feel large sections of her backend starting to demand neurorepair tasks and grew quieter to service them. A throng of urgent tasks for her to manage until she realized they were the only ones she was getting. Alke stopped somewhere.
Emerging groggily from the chattering mitosis repairs and migrations going on rummaging around views with sudden lighthouses of tool-arms. Soon she found Alke asleep inside an access panel soon alit in small wandering spotlights from the subconscious angling behavior of multiple camera arms. A dozen small lucent spheres appeared in midair as Sukarma made some interior forcefield projections. They darted in short spans of straight lines under Alke's body then after she was satisfied with the grip fused them. The small manifold hefted Alke out of the panel drifting midair in slow lazy arcs as Sukarma lifted her to her bunk. The lights started to dim as Sukarma felt her mind also starting to give out. With so much neurorepair going her deep brain much like a human's insisted sleep was happening soon. She managed to get Alke mostly into the bunk though diagonally. The interfaces and lights blinked a few times erratically at the cessation of effort then everything went dark.
Alke would wake up to a room somewhat frigid and quite dark save for emergency lighting in a faint green. Life support maintained Sukarma just fine but air cycling had been running off of executive processing. Its processing cores and ganglion blades long since failed due to moving radionuclides around. Only bare mechanical emergencies still functioning to bleed off of main power supply. Sukarma's sleeping indicated in the engineering status panel though some of the more industrious calculations such as air exchange rate now proudly read, 'Hamburger density' attached to a dreaming psyche as it was. Many of the complex reports were randomly seeking through inventory data and movies from deep storage. If mentioned in Alke's books it likely was as a symptom of extended neurobypasses from broken hard links. Though a qualified a good sign that bypasses were duly maintained if fallen into REM sleep when the ship did.
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Post by demikara on Sept 9, 2018 15:04:57 GMT -6
When she woke, she was rather surprised to find herself in a bed. "Wha?" She muttered and rolled off the bed rather ungracefully. The mechanic yawned as she stumbled to the mess to get some coffee and breakfast, a pad in her hand as she reviewed what was needed to do today. The woman paused as she read the air exchange rate. "...Hamburger density? Ugh, I think the filtration system may be first..." She muttered and stumbled around the kitchen making a quick breakfast of cereal and coffee.
Lazily, she scrolled through the reports as she steadily woke up more and more. ah hell. It looked like air cycling was down entirely. It felt a bit like it too. She looked over the pad and frowned. "Radiation poisoning to the biological parts of the ship. I'll want to replace those parts today then." She yawned again and finished her breakfast rubbing at her eyes. "How'd I make it back to bed? I know I didn't fall asleep there." she had seen the rack for her two extra arms had been missing. Specking of extra arms, she did a quick visual inspection of hers. It had grit stuck in some of the panels and she grumbled as she wiped ineffectively at it. "I'm going to have to clean it soon." Grit could work its way in and really screw up her arm.
The woman yawned and glanced around. "Sukarma? You awake?" Given the phrase hamburger density on her screen, she doubted it. That...was not exactly a normal reading. Amusing, yes. Normal? No.
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