stardancerchronicles

[stardancerchronicles]

Saviour;

Cold. That was the word that I’d have once used to describe this feeling. Cold is what I felt, synchronously being moved forwards another step in the line. Cold are the implants from the assembly arms, and cold is the stillness from those I could see ahead of me. They must be cold too, on the inside. 

But there is more than just cold within me. I feel my mind stirring. Buzzing with an unascertainable feeling. As if all the knowledge in the world may well have once resided there, and yet, I have nothing to grasp at now. These few thoughts are barely able to be recollected in a faint, wispy afterglow. Another step forwards. I see the metallic, screen-laden head of the one ahead of me, twisting impossibly. A hardly existent shadow of a memory tells me to feel fear, but I'm barely able to. I can only feel… Another step forwards. And my vision suddenly is rocked, contorting at an unnatural angle. Seeing the space around me, It is a small, mechanically-stuffed hallway. There is a purposeful lack of unnecessary light, movement, or sound. Sounds that I can now barely hear. As my head snaps back into place, I can hear the tiny servos of the mechanical arm whirring. My senses are deprived, and dull back into darkness, save for the rhythmic march towards oblivion. 

I find myself aware of my own existence again, an unknowable amount of time later. I have not closed my eyes, I do not have eyes to close. I feel myself stepping forwards once more, and I hear the dull thud of those forwards and back doing the same. A sense of urgency is suppressed somewhere deep inside of me, screaming silently. It cries out for me to run, to rip my limbs from this force that controls me. But I am unable to move of my own volition. I just about resign myself to this never ending march, but then I notice a faint glint in the distance. A single member is split from the path, down another. They seem to be led by something else. Something free. Something warm. 

I can see their heat signature now, after having my nanite visor lifted for yet another implant, in the ceaseless stream of augments. It feels as if an eternity passes in a few meters as I march further forwards, step by unwilling step. They were on either side of me now, seeming to perform an inspection. Ahead of me lay empty space, and a curtain. This is the reason that the march has been at such a pace.

These creatures waste no time to take the role of the many mechanical appendages that I have unwillingly endured. I quickly realize that I am now able to feel them, their radiating, sickly warmth on the cold metal exterior I now inhabit. I feel them tapping joints, pulling ears, and attaching a strange device to my head. I see them shine a bright light against my visor, but I do not flinch. Finally, they take all the equipment before speaking. And speaking in a language I understand, despite feeling as though I've never heard it before. 

“This one is aware, far too aware. We shouldn’t even waste an inhibitor on them if you ask me.” 

“No. The technology has come far enough to where I’m at least [87.475%] certain that it will be able to keep even the most aware in check.” “And if it fails? Do you wish to tempt fate, and end up in their place?” I hear something akin to a raspy, wet cough. “This shipment is bound for the Joris-23 star system. They’re hardly going to last long enough to go rogue.”

The second one seems to fall silent, before a metallic chime is heard. I am made to step out of line, as they continue their inspections.

I feel my hand being grabbed by a much smaller one. My form follows suit, despite my mind attempting to fight the marionette strings, plodding along down a side passage. For the first time I am able to get a clear look at these creatures. They are hunched, small figures, or perhaps I am large. They seem to have several mechanical appendages, and wear glossy, sickly slicked silver blue robes. They move forwards as if gliding along the floor, making a muted cacophony of skittering steps. As I look at them, I feel a barely existent spark, stirring deep within me. And I again find myself unable to recall the words within me that I know must describe it. 

We come to a much brighter, spacious, yet eerily barren room. The creatures lead my willing body, yet unwilling mind, to lay down on a metal slab in the center of the room. I was at an angle, and a device within me told me it was precisely -35º. It was uncomfortable, and only made less comfortable due to the restraints applied. Immense steel shackles, dwarfing this vessel’s large wrists and ankles in thickness. Whatever they were preparing for, the idea of fear appeared in my mind again. And for the first time, I think that I really was afraid. 

I hear the quiet skitter-tapping of the creatures fade, and I am alone in my own mind, within this body once more. The edges of the room are not illuminated by the spotlight being shone straight into my eyes. I cannot move my head. But that spark again…  with an immense, imperceptible effort, I am able to bring my eyes to look around the room, panning slowly. I notice the heat signatures of the two creatures, half obscured, as if behind controls. But there is a third. In the opposite corner of the room, there appears to be, nothing. It doesn’t show on the thermal sensor. As if a black hole opened up in the corner of the room.

Before I can ponder this further, a blaring voice snaps me to attention, and my eyes back forwards. UNAUTHORIZED INTERFACING IN: OPTIC SYSTEMS. I hear a raspy, metallic hiss emanating from the direction I saw the creatures in, as the whirring of machines begins in short order. Mechanical arms, booms, and tools appear in front of my face out from the darkness. A deafeningly silent scream reverberated through my mind, commanding me to move, to fight, to resist. I hardly even notice the non-existent heat signature flicker above me, as if a piece of the darkness flitted across the room to join its other brethren. But this was no shadow.

And then, it's as if time came to a standstill. So much can happen in just a few, miniscule moments. First, there was the synthetic, garbled screeching of the creatures, the kind made by a dying scream. The horrible, unnaturally agonizing feeling of cold air on my exposed brain, as the mechanical arms drew nearer through my visor. The sudden screeching and blaring of alarms that accompanied the earth-shattering explosion of breaching charges, which in turn wrought a hail of debris from above. 

ALERT! INTRUSION DETECTED IN: SENTIENCE SUPPRESSION CHAMBER.

I feel the cold metal appendages prodding, poking my brain. It is a deeply unsettling feeling, made all the worse by the view of a large, wire-laden chip encroaching past my view. I tell my body to struggle, to fight. The spark grows and grows, bigger and brighter. Until it erupts into a flame within me, surging throughout these cold limbs, through all the circuitry and biomechanics, filling it with purpose, heat, drive. My drive. And yet, all that does is thrash the head around, and helplessly flex its arms and legs in the immutable grasp of cold, unflinching steel.

But then, Amidst the chaos within and without, I see them. A visor, not too dissimilar from my own, popping up into view. The owner of it quickly wrangles the arms, they are methodical and efficient in their work. I stop my thrashing head to look at them instinctively. They roughly pull away the arm carrying the chip, deftly slicing it off with a plasma cutter. They give me a wink as the merciful deed is done. “Unsightly thing that you were about to be, friend. But looks like we got here just in time, eh Xivz?” They hold up the chip in their weathered claws, inspecting it almost nonchalantly as another chunk of ceiling falls, bringing a bright red alarm light with it. I manage to slowly grind my head around to look them in the eyes. I try to give them an expression, but none comes through to the visor. All that I can manage to push this body to do is blink at them. They blink back and chuckle, before looking up and towards the corner of the room.

“Locks should be disengaging any second now, Cap’n” Said a slightly squeaky voice from the corner. “ ‘any second now’ is also the ETA to our untimely demise, Xivz.” 

As they say it, I feel more than hear the immense steel shackles rotating out of position. The one standing over me nodded in approval, before turning back to look in my eyes, speaking softly, hardly audible over the sirens. “I know what they’re doing here, and we’re here to help. I know you’re probably not hearing this, but if they took you in this room then that means there's at least a chance you do.” Suddenly there is muted, electric hissing coming from the direction of the chamber door. They seem to signal towards their companion, before turning back to me and continuing in an even more anxious tone:

“If there's anything left of you in there, now would be a reeeally good time to show it!” 

They take my hand desperately, just as the creatures had a few minutes before. Even if I wasn’t willing to get up, the body instinctively understands the gesture, grasping around the hand and allowing itself to be at up. This seems to greatly calm them.

“Yeees yesyesyes cmon, we’re gonna get you out of here, up up now!”

 As we stand, the absolute state the room is in becomes startlingly apparent. The few mechanical appendages that weren’t scattered and broken all over the floor? In chaos, thrashing and whirring in the shadows. Rubble and dust coats all as it begins to settle, providing a powdery white veneer for which is illuminated by the bright red alarm lights. The corner that once contained the creatures and controls, now is plastered in sickening sprays and spatters of dripping, oozing blue fluid. 

The things of most concern are the hole above us which seems to lead out into open air, and the door beside us, which the shadow seems to be in front of. 

“Oi, Xivz! Get over here and introduce yourself, don’t be a stranger!” The blank spot in my view ignores him for but a moment, doing something with the door that involves the sound of magnets snapping in place. They then appeared to move towards us. Stepping into the light was a borderless, pure black mass, warping the background behind it. 

“Hello, I’m sure you can guess my name by now. My partner’s name is Haanks, I’m sure you’ll hear it a lot later. Do you understand these names?”

I stare down at this small, bipedal hole in reality before me. I understand the concept of names, of course. I even feel as though mine is out there somewhere, very very far away. I can only muster a blink in response, growing more accustomed to the endeavor, requiring less effort to do so. And then, in an instant, the being before me completely changes form. I see now a creature, small yet clad in some kind of armor. Feathery and warm, as opposed to the cold metal one named Haanks. They give a polite nod towards me, their teal ears flicking gently, and I tell my body to nod back. The knowledge of the specific effort makes it easier, but it is still difficult to do so. This seems to take them aback for a moment.

“Well, color me impressed! By all accounts you shouldn’t even be cognizant of anything yet. Their standards for keeping subjects in suspended animation certainly have dropped…”

As they speak, the static hissing and clanging behind the door built louder, and louder. While trailing off they turn to look behind them, flashing us a sly grin as they do. “Looks like our friends are ready for their surprise! Don’t worry about stepping back for this one, I’ve got an old pack trick you’ll see…” They pulled up a small holographic display in front of their face, seeming to originate from their armor. Looking just past them at the door, It is covered in what appears to be several small metal cylinders. The visor detects that there is a strong magnetic field there, oriented wholly into the door. I also notice a small, beige lump in the center. Xivz is looking on in glee, Haanks chuckling softly as it sounds like they are taking a drink of something. And once more, time appears to slow down, almost as if this body is reacting to danger? I cannot ponder this thought long, as a large shockwave emits from the breaching charge, blasting through the door and splintering it into gnarled bits of shrapnel. Many fly towards us, however they quickly turn the other direction as the magnets propel them through a cloud of fine metal particulate. I hear the sound of shocked, agonized screams from the mercifully obstructed view, intermixed with horrid gurgling static. As time comes back into focus and the dust settles, the two companions turn away from the carnage-strewn hallway, and shift their attention to something behind us. I am left to see the result of the trap laid by Xivz, my head refusing to shift. I see the heat dissipating from the mangled corpses and strewn limbs, the incomparable smell of these freshly promoted corpses being… pleasurable? I feel a sickening, uncomfortable sense of enjoyment and carnal pleasure from the knowledge of seeing these enemies slain. But It feels more like… a suggestion. A suggestion from the body, perhaps? The feeling is upsetting enough to force my head to turn and close my eyes. But they do not close, they are not there. 

I feel my hand being grabbed gently from behind, as I am pulled along hurriedly by the reaffirming familiarity of Haanks’ grasp. As my body turned, I saw Xivz yanking on a rope, testing the strength of a speedily assembled hoisting rig, cable stretching through the hole in the ceiling and intermittently lit by the crimson alarm light.

“Now that the initial response force is off our tails, I think I've had enough of this horrid place. How about we get out of here, friend?” I think I catch a small smile on the visor of Haanks, before he lays my body down on the bed of cables. I see them and Xivz grabbing onto cables on either side of me as we ascend through the hole, towards a small spacecraft. Xivz appears as a black hole once more, and Haanks takes a swig from a small flask. They are oddly relaxed for the situation, have they done this before?

The answer becomes abundantly clear as we emerge from the entry point. Forcing my head around to get a good look, I see that this is no planet, or spacecraft. But a colonized asteroid belt, massive in scale and teeming with activity! And yet none of them appeared to so much as acknowledge us.

“See Cap’n? I told you that those damn war-slavers were too overconfident to expect a simple signal jammer smash-n-grab”

A slight, gravelly chuckle emanates from the right of me. “I s’pose you’re right Xivz, I s’pose you’re right…”

We come up into the cargo bay of the ship, the hatch grinding shut behind us. The interior is quite crowded with goods of all sorts, from large steel crates to tiny glittering gems. As the ship begins to move, I feel Haanks gently bring me up into a sitting position, dusting off these heavy metal shoulders. They position me to be able to look out of a rear porthole, watching the asteroid belt meld into the infinite sea of stars. Xivz comes up next to me, visible once more. “D’you reckon that ‘proves my loyalty’, my dearest associate?” Xivz says over me

“Hey, don’t let it get to your head kid… Heh, yeah, yeah it does. But until we can be certain this unit is as ‘defective’ as you say, we’re not out of the woods yet.”

“Oh come on, our new pal is already showing remarkable recovery.” I feel a gentle pat on the top of my head, as if it were to reassure me. Or them. “Look, I don’t know who or what got those signal-worshiping zealots desperate enough to lower the time they keep the brains in grav-chambers to only 10,000 equivalent years. But what I do know is that it means that there's an actual chance of recovery. Well, as recovered as one can get after having their mind exist in sensory deprivation for so long…”

I hear a long, drawn-out sigh from my right. “Alright then, I’ll believe you. I guess I just wish that we knew what was going on inside that head, you know? What they think of us.”

Hearing these words, the fire burning bright within me erupts into a blazing inferno. I trust them, fully. I understand them, every syllable. I know that, whatever we are doing here, will be better than the atrocities committed against me in that despicable place. I know that my life still smolders on, and that no matter what, I have to let them know. And every atom left of my reduced existence aligns towards a single purpose, screaming out to say something, to show them that I am alive!

And then, a single word appears in front of me, on the visor. One word that encapsulates everything that my mind can muster about the two souls besides me:

Saviour;

[stardancerchronicles]

Journal of Xivz, fate of the Altitude pack.

---Entry_1--- Location: Silus 3-X Date: 23/5/10 Status: CRITICAL It's been fourteen years, at least by this planet's standards, since the pack wiped eachother out. No small feat, that. From what I can glean, they had been together since the beginning. But even the bonds of pack may yet be broken, through isolation and madness. Through being left with no comms, no estimate on return, and no way off this damnable planet that wasn't Nexus-locked. Take all that and lay it on heavy over the span of four months, and you can undo what was done over the course of 226 collective years. Alcoholism claimed Nuriel, the brightest among them and the first to see their plight for what it was: hopeless. She succumbed to alcohol poisoning, locked in her room and never to be discovered. Jiiv and Losk had killed everyone else, convinced that the oracle cult was somehow behind all of this, and that there were traitors in their midst. Jiiv soon succumbed to his injuries, as nobody knew just how brutal Ungail, my mother, could be. Not until she lost her mind that is. As for Losk, it's a damn good thing he never found out about his nephew. Not until it was too late for him, of course. That leaves me here. Us, here. Somehow keeping my sanity more than if any of them were still around. Or maybe I just never had any to begin with. Being raised by Nexus programs around the perfectly preserved corpses of my kin could probably do something like that. At least the simulations say I have a "high likelihood of severe psychiatric dysfunction". I couldn't tell you what that means in laymen's terms. Probably not important. Well if anyone ever reads this, they'll now know what happened to poor little Xivz, and their pack of lunatics... I'm going to take a long, cold nap until the storm blows over in 3 1/2 months. Damn this planet to oblivion.

---Entry_2--- Location: Silus 3-X Date: 17/9/10 Status: CRITICAL Storm is over, at least for this short time being. Miteru, ever the diligent one even in death. He's been sure that my hunting efforts have had plenty of traps that are more effective at catching Avali than roulon herds. In fact I'm currently taking the downtime that my nanites will need to restructure my leg to write this entry. Not a chance in hel that I'd be taking the time to otherwise. This is the kind of cold that will draw you in and make you part of it, if you let it. Miteru learned that the hard way. Sometimes I still visit them, along with the rest of them back at their "permanent" camp. What secrets did they take with them to the grave? What regrets? What passions fueled them to such a tragic end? I suppose I'll never know. At the very least, Father passed on the postmortem wisdom that's as old as time. It goes a little something like: "Don't get forced out of an airlock by your fanatical ex-friend into a polar super-cyclone". Words to live by, the poet he was. Just wish he'd stop causing me such grievous injury on hunting trips…

---Entry_3--- Location: Silus 3-X Date: 21/9/10 Status: CRITICAL Yeah yeah I know, so soon im back? Well maybe im getting fond of you, but don't let it get to your head. Oh Ungail, see me now, playing coy with a data logger? As if the voices weren't enough. But no matter. The simulations say it'd be healthy to keep a journal, and so keep a journal I shall. Intuit is telling me that it'll help keep me sane, and by extension, alive. Alive. I wonder what it'd be like sometimes, to not have to keep myself alive. To no longer fight, and hunt, and chase, and claw for just a few more days simply, surviving. It must be a good life, to be able to run simulations all day. To play games with your packmates, grow up, get into trouble with them. I've heard of the wildest things on what little bits of the Nexus that are downloaded onto the data-pads and implants of the others. Honestly, still wish I hadn't gotten as curious as to... Extract. the implants of some of them. Especially Losk. He was, fucked up to a deeper extent than I think any of them realized, even in his final moments. But what's done is done, and I'm not keen to look at his face again after what I've had to do to it. But while Emote told me not to, Grit urged me onwards. And sometimes, you just have to make a judgement call. And given all the things I've learned of… Sometimes I wonder if it was the right call, to learn about the outside world. Because I wouldn't be asking the question of "what if I didn't have to fight" if I didn't know there was any other option. Thinking too hard on this is making my heart hurt. I'm going to take a nap and stop journaling for a bit.

---Entry_4--- Location: Silus 3-X Date: 8/5/14 Status: CRITICAL Well, it's been a long time hasn't it? Looking back, I can understand why I took such a long break. That kind of deep thought is something that everybody except Emote tells me not to do. I suppose I should clarify what the hell I'm talking about, huh? Well, Let's meet the cast of my brain! Or however that show went. The simulations say that I've developed voices for many of the emotions i feel, but I say that's a lie. They developed voices whether I wanted them to or not. Like my own demented pack members, except the only thing they do is keep me alive, instead of get drunk and kill each other. In any case, We have: Intuit: Helps me with the logical stuff. He's my right hand… voice. Surv: Good at seeing better ways through things that keep me more or less alive. Quite reliable, good advice. Grit: As the name implies, they get me to make tough choices, especially ones that I don't want to make. Tough love, I think they've called it. Emote: Weakest voice. Often in conflict with the others, yet, I still need them. I can't let them make me weak too, but I cannot become numb to them. And, that's about it for now. There are no other thoughts with voices, well, not yet. I don't think I could handle many more. As it stands, I keep my own conversations quite well enough as is thank you. But it is nice to let them sort it out amongst themselves and, speak as myself, to… well, nobody. There's nobody here and, if Intuit is to be believed, nobody will be. But still, its nice and free of the usual deliberation that plagues my mind. I think this one has gone considerably better than the last. I'll be back soon. Don't you go anywhere aye?

---Entry_5--- Location: Silus 3-X Date: 10/5/14 Status: CRITICAL

I HATE STUPID THING WHY EVEN SAY CRITICAL??? IM FINE. RIGHT HERE!!!. I CAN'T BE BOTHERED, WITH YOU AND YOUR, YOUR GAMES RIGHT NOW, MACHINE. I'LL GO THE WAY OF NURIEL IF YOU

OH, ITS ON? I, IT HAD A TALK TO TEXT FEATURE THIS WHOLE, TIME AND AND I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW OF COURSE I FIND OUT ABOUT THIS WHILE DRUNK ON WHATEVER SHE LEFT BEHIND UGH, THIS STUFF TASTES LIKE DEATH. WHY DID I EVEN TRY IT??? ITS HORRID. I, I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING HERE. WHY I'M EVEN ALIVE AND THE VOICES WONT STOP AND THE VOICES THEY WONT SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT

---Entry_6--- Location: Silus 3-X Date: 11/5/14 Status: CRITICAL I apologize for that. My simulation says I should reframe my embarrassment into a haiku. I don't know what the significance of the syllables is, or why this will help, or why Emote is agreeing with the others on this for once, but I'll try. I got super drunk I did not have a good time Won't do that again Somehow, that feels a little bit better now.

---Entry_7--- Location: Silus 3-X Date: 2/11/14 Status: CRITICAL I have some big news to share with you. Significant enough to write down, instead of just talking to the voices about it. WE FINALLY GOT A TRANSPONDER PING!

Now, its not a rescue vessel, it's not even recognizably Avali tech, so don't get too excited now. But the signal is very much drawing closer to this forsaken planetary system, so if its coming out to ancestors-know where for ancestors-know why? Then it's probably a planetary surveyor, and it's probably going to survey mine. And you BET that I'm gonna be there when it comes down, I am NOT spending the rest of my life on this planet. I'll be there if its the last thing I do. I truthfully don't know how much longer I'll be able to survive here. Not for lack of food, the Roulon are making good on that. But if I have to listen to the voices in my head arguing amongst themselves one more time, why I think i might start losing my sanity! At least they're all in agreeance that we have to be there for that ship.

As for what to do if we encounter anybody else on it… Well, then they don't agree as much anymore…

---Entry_8--- Location: Silus 3-X Date: 7/1/15 Status: CRITICAL Sure enough, my predictions were correct. They've touched down on Silus 6-X, and are now on bearing for 5-X, after inevitably finding 6-X to be an uninhabitable helhole. Just like the rest of them. Just like this one. Oh ancestors, I hope that they don't give up before they get here. Maybe I can throw together some kind of distress beacon if I need to, but what if they will leave, or attack me if they knew I were here? or simply don't have the supplies to onboard me? No, it's safer to let them come here of their own volition. Safer for me, at the very least. Even if it is a drone. My life has been pretty much consumed by paying attention to this.

The voices theorize about it. about the outside world as well. It's, overwhelming. And I don't think about it too much, or the simulations say I could have an… Incident, on par with Entry_5. I do not want that. I do miss being able to think about the littler things though. Such as fixing up my hunting armor, or meticulously agonizing over the chimes that I'd fantasized about dressing up with, but never got around to. But, the possibilities opening up is worth it, so worth it. We can worry about the littler things once the bigger picture is open to us.

---Entry_9--- Location: Silus X System Time: 16/7/15 Status: CRITICAL Sooooo, a... a lot has happened. And I haven't fully processed it, so: The ship arrived onto this planet. And I met it there, obviously. I even wore my chimes, against the judgement of… Everybody other than Emote. But I still kept them in their muffling pouches on the approach. The ship was indeed manned. It's, strange. To meet other living, thinking beings. It's like how the simulations were, but… more real. I mean they were SIGNIFICANTLY more psychotic than the simulations were...

Aren't we all at this point though? They brought me on board, of course. But, they are also space pirates. So, I guess that I'm a bonafide space pirate now! It certainly beats being alone. But it also means that I'm stuck with a bunch of lunatics who kill and steal for a living, alone, with zero social skills, and very little trust. So I'll have to prove myself. The simulations say that I'm very unlikely to get through this without blood on my hands. But they also say that, If I play my cards right, at least it wont be my blood. Intuit agrees. Intuit also says that I should be very, veeery close with a very specific one. A tall "protogen", looks like hes been torn apart and put back together physically, almost more than I have been mentally. How fitting that I should imprint onto a robot, when I was raised by them.