Challenge #00828-B097: Homicidally Annoying
Ethics. Of all the flaws for a crew member to have, why did it have to be ethics?
Do’jii had to wonder why he was carting this human around. Sure, his actions were often in a confounding chain of cause and effect that came out with profit at the other end, but at other times…
Like this time…
It was hard to see the profit at the other end.
“Let me understand the chain of events,” began Do’jii.
The adolescent male cringed in his place and bared his teeth. A nervous reaction that made Do’jii bare his more ominously.
“You went into the cargo hold, despite numerous warnings not to…”
“…’esbut,” squeaked the human. “It was Ar’jii. ‘E said ‘e’d bite me head off if I didn’t check th’ locks.”
Ar’jii was going to be reprimanded for that. Later. Much, much later. “And, once in the cargo hold, you opened the door that you were expressly forbidden to open.”
“…itwasunlocked…”
“Well…”
“Hwell, sir.”
“Why do you keep doing the things you were told not to do?”
“Um. You see. This time…“
O Gods. Not a ‘this time’er.
“This time? Sir? I couldn’t figure out why the lock wasn’t locking? So I turned on the light inside? To see if there was anything in the mechanism? You know how grit gets about? Um. And then I saw what was in there? I mean - who was in there?“
Ethics. Of all the flaws for a crew member to have, why did it have to be ethics? Do’jii scraped his talons down his spine crest in an effort to calm himself down. Must not kill and eat the profitable mammal… “So of course you felt sorry for them and called ahead to the Committee for Cogniscent Rights…”
“Yessir. I knew it wasn’t you as put them there, sir. It had to be Ba’jii. He’s a real bad sort.”
Evidently, the meaning of smuggler vessel had escaped the humans’ notice. “Well Barra…”
“It’s Hwell Barrow, sir.”
“You are fired. Gather your belongings and your cargo and leave this ship forever.”
“Yeahbut–”
“UNDER PENALTY OF DEATH!”
The human fled.
When the CCR came around asking about the notice, Do’jii disavowed all knowledge and informed them that the human had the sole responsibility of freeing that particular batch of live cargo.
He didn’t know that there was a Four Year’s reward for their release and repatriation. And, to add insult to injury, the humans’ last, insane purchase also went for a small fortune. Of which, the human frittered most of it on charity.
The next time he got a human? It had to be one with less moral fibre.
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Challenge #00827-B096: Cataclysmic Server Event
Extinction Level Events are just the real worlds way of conducting a server update.
[AN: Apologies for the lateness. I got distracted.]
“Okay, so what kind of server reboot are we looking at?”
“Rocks fall, everything dies.“
“Seriously? How are the event quests even managed for that?”
“We’re removing most, but not all of the Saurians and replacing them with Mammals. Loads of customisation possibilities with the Evolution quests.”
“Yahuh. And what are the event quests for the Saurians?”
“Try to save the world. None of them are taking it up though. Looks like everyone’s tired of feathers and roaring.”
Tapping on the keys. “Dude! This entire species run doesn’t have the cogniscence mod.”
“Uh. Whoops.”
“It’s too late to do anything to fix it! They’re still at hunt-and-kill and nowhere near rockets.”
“Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit…”
“Damnit.”
“Well… nothing to be done about that. Start working towards the cogniscence mod on the mammals after the reboot.”
“Yessir.”
“You’re bloody lucky nobody else noticed. One hundred and seventy-five million years and no cogniscence. Crap.”
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Challenge #00820-B089: Going Viral
:Speaking of real-life, actually-happened biological warfare development:
After deployment failed, killing only five hundred million individuals before the target population began developing immunity, development started on another attempt using a different disease. Loss of containment on that one killed ten million during testing, and let the unfinished virus into the wild.
(…The twist is it was the testing of RHD (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rabbit_haemorrhagic_disease) in Aussie attempts to control the rabbit population after myxy (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Myxomatosis) didn’t finish the job)
Exerpts from Report on the Efforts of Redesigning a Deathworld by Blixxo Maxx:
Having taken note of the mating habits of the resident mammals, we then concocted a virus that would attack their immune system and leave them vulnerable to the planet’s abundant diseases. The long incubation period was a deliberate design choice to remove the association of cause and effect, as well as to maximise spread.
Initial results seemed successful, tracking by infection rate, large portions of the population were infected within three decades. However, mutant strains arose, as did awareness of the virus.
Then those apes did something unprecedented. They tamed a virus designed to kill them and used it against something else that was killing them. Then they designed a drug to defend themselves against the initial virus.
In desperation, my learned colleague attempted to fan the fires of the native’s anti-vaccine movement. He reasoned that the elites and the believers in conspiracies would wipe out a majority of the population intelligent enough to insist on preventative measures.
Fear is an excellent motivator for these balding apes. They have and will willingly walk into peril in order to avoid an astronomically small chance of a feared outcome.
To that end, I am pondering the invention of a purely mythical disease. These apes will believe anything they find on their own entertainment networks. The prevention method, of course, will be something that kills them or at least renders them infertile.
We may yet rid ourselves of intelligent life on this planet, but I have my doubts. These are a resilient species. In the end, we may have to be satisfied with them wiping themselves out.
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Challenge #00809-B078: Flight School
“We will begin this course with some examples of deconstructive lithobraking. This 30-minute holofilm is titled ‘When the Ground Isn’t Your Friend.’”
Wherever humans go, they bring alcohol. In actuality, you are better off if they bring it, because otherwise they brew it. And you do not want to know what goes into the process, because humans will drink the byproduct of anything they can get to ferment.
And sometimes they stick Things in it, after distilling, to “enhance the flavour”.
Therefore, when you’re running various tourist traps in the Impossible Nebula[1], the best idea is to make certain there’s a bar in every mall.
And into one such bar, came a regular casualty.
She was human, of course. Only humans were mad enough to view the fast-transit ‘flight’ between asteroids as entertainment rather than a means of not having to deal with inconvenient shuttle schedules.
She walked with the help of a crutch, and half of her combination flight suit and life suit was a tattered ruin.
A table full of humans greeted her with whoops and cheers as she limped towards their company.
“Where’d you bite it, Cass?” asked another of the girls.
“I got almost all the way around to the Third Quarter. Would you believe, Sash, that I completely forgot about Big Bad John?”
The entire table moaned in sympathy.
“Yeah. Hit the Caterpillar[2] sideways. Busted my leg but good.”
“Three quarters is better than half.”
“I made it all the way around…”
“Only because you stopped at every rock, Nancy.”
“So what? I still made it.”
“You only fly the year[3] if you fly. It’s not called ‘stop and shop the year’.”
Nancy blew a raspberry. “Note the lack of broken bones and my complete absence of flakks to give.”
The bartender readied another round of Stellar Slams and rolled hir eyes at the universe. Humans…
[1] A very interesting misnomer. The nebula in question is actually an asteroid belt that has managed to maintain a breathable atmosphere between its disparate parts. All attempts to turn it into a Ringworld have failed.
[2] The ‘Hungry Caterpillar’ is a grappling-and-processing system that’s good for taking debris apart very quickly. In the Impossible Nebula, it has been adapted to preserve tourist life.
[3] The practice of flying through the entire orbit of the Impossible Nebula.
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Challenge #00743 - B012: A Requiem for Glory
The grass is always greener on the other side of the nuclear war.
Sometimes due to glowing with radiation, granted.
“War,” said the Elder. “We had to fight it, of course. Those evil bastards on the other continent were going to destroy our way of life. So we had to destroy theirs.”
“Um,” said Krii, raising her hand.
“Yes, what?”
“Did they know that was why we attacked? Because, um, it might explain why they wanted a war with us… maybe?”
“We never attacked,” snarled the Elder. “We pre-emptively defended ourselves from a virulent enemy who would have destroyed everything we hold dear! Those inhuman bastards didn’t even know how to treat women right. They insisted on making them cover up or the girls would get attacked.”
Krii, already holding one Bad Chit for having a skirt two millimetres shorter than it ‘should have been’, asked a dangerous question. “How were they attacked?”
“Acid thrown in their faces. Beatings… horrible, horrible beatings… tied up and shackled if they put a foot wrong. And a man who married her owned her! He could do anything he liked with her, just shy of murder! Now aren’t you glad you live here with us? We let you vote!”
“Um,” said Krii. “But… We have to cover up. And we’re hit if someone says we’re bad even when we’re following the rules. And… Daddy owns Mom. And she can’t say when she wants Daddy to do his business on her. And he’s allowed to keep her on a chain in the kitchen… and Mom has to vote how Daddy tells her…”
“That’s entirely different and you know it. Or are you a Sympathiser?”
Krii shrank down in her place, holding her skirt as far over her knees as she could make it go. “No? I just… I just want to understand how it’s different…” She added the good girl words, “I’m very stupid, but I want to learn.”
“You’re lucky we’re the good guys,” rumbled the Elder. “The difference is we’re protecting you! Those dangerous animals are lurking on every street corner. Subversives set to ruin us! Agents of evil everywhere! They’d think nothing of hurting a girl because they thought she wasn’t behaving right.”
Okay. So… just like her Daddy. “How can we tell the difference? I think I know some bad men who might be Agents… and I want to be sure I’m right so I don’t wind up in bad girl prison.”
The Elder grinned. “Ah. So you think you’ve spotted some Subversives… You’re old enough to support The Party, so I should tell you everything you need to know about fighting for your country, the women’s way!”
Krii dutifully wrote down the indicators of a Subversive. Neatly and clearly. This was important information, vital to the upkeep of the nation.
But it didn’t make sense.
Every man she knew filled out this checklist to a T. And some of the girls, too.
And they also filled the checklist for a proper Citizen and Party Member.
Krii dared her friend Lel to ask the last question. A girl who asked too many questions was a girl who was Trouble.
“What if someone fills both lists?”
The entire girls’ class got hard labour for that one. None of them understood why. It was a perfectly legitimate question.
It was that day, toiling in the hot sun, that the Girls’ Patriotic Liberation Front was born. And it was going to cause a lot of problems for The Party.
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Challenge #00737 - B006: Fighting Words
“Veni Ad Me Frat”, Latin for “Come At Me, Bro”.
Shayde sighed as Rael caught her out again. “No? How about ‘non me tracagnum’?”
“Don’t beat me,” said Rael. “How about you stop pulling your Hackmeyer strategies, lay off the BS, and talk like a scientist to these people?”
“It’s hard,” Shayde whined. “I’m too used tae no’ being listened to. Too used tae being dismissed oot a’ hand. Too used tae tha’ jammy bastard takin’ all the credit jus’ fer translatin’. Badly. He’s left 'is mark, the spavined sod.”
Rael was ready for this, he’d done his homework. “Fair enough. Imagine, instead, that you’re giving your presentation to,” he consulted his reference notes, “Adam Savage, Jamie Hyneman, William Nye and Steven Hawking.”
Shayde glared at him. “Aye, leave the most important one fer last, why don’t ye?”
Odd. He thought he hadn’t. Evidently, more homework was necessary. “And anyone else I may have missed.”
Shayde re-consulted her e-ledger. “I’m goin’ have tae re-write all'a this…”
He breathed out. At last. The point he had been trying to get across for half an hour. But, on the plus side, he was being paid for this.
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Challenge #00736 - B005: Do We Need Them?
A friend and I, up in tropical Queensland on holiday - land of my birth. We are being buzzed by flies large enough to need Air Traffic Control, and slowly being drained of blood by the clouds of mozzies. The following conversation does not reflect any of my actual views. It was borne of frustration and humour.
Me: -slap- Hey, do we need flies for anything? Like, do they perform a vital role in the ecosystem or something?
Friend (amused): Yeah, I think they do.
Me: Soo… I’m _not_ allowed to plot their extinction?
Friend: No plotting species extinctions. I think that’s a valid blanket rule.
Me: -slap- What about mozzies, do we need mozzies for anything? I mean, unlike flies who are mostly just -slap- annoyances, mozzies carry malaria and denghue and ross river fevers and stuff - are the benefits they provide in their -slap- ecosystem role outweighed be being probably the most dangerous macroscopic animal on the planet, gram for gram?
Friend: I thought we had this rule.
Me: Aww… c’mon, just one little extinction? They’d hardly even notice, they have like -slap- five synapses.
Friend: No. I refer you to the rule.
Me: Not fair. Our common ancestors got to make mammoths and sabretooths and all these other cool things extinct, all I’m asking for is one family of -slap- - _freaking annoying_ - insects. :poke tongue and quickly retract it lest it become a landing pad for insects:
Friend: And wouldn’t you prefer it if you could see some of those species?
Me: You’re only saying this because -slap- they’re mostly ignoring you. I forgot how bad it is here, that’s the only reason you could talk me into this - I was quite fine in _sub_-tropical areas, thankyouverymuch. AH! Goddammit that was a horsefly!(Sorry if that was too long)
[AN: For Americans and other non-Australians, the horseflies we get here are not limited to flies that bother horses. We have the ones you could plausibly fit with a saddle and tack. They’re vicious bastards that can get to over an inch long and feature bright yellow pinstripes from head to tail. They’re not venomous, per se, but they can make you regret your place in life and their place on your leg for as long as two hours. And, according to this article, yes we do need mozzies.]
The influence of man, one author said, is so widespread that he doesn’t notice he was never there.
To put it in more scientifically accurate terms: introduce humans to an environment and watch the trophic cascade happen.
The first year of Wiwazheer was an education in trophic cascades for everyone.
To make room for the colony’s hobbit-holes and Central’s Anthill science complex, large volumes of trees, shrubs and other plant life had to go. There was loads of it elsewhere, of course. Part of the reason why it took six months to clear it all was that everyone was making absolutely certain that they weren’t causing an extinction by accident.
But what they did do, Susan noted, was cause a very localised deforestation, rendering entire populations of birds, bugs, lizards and amphibians homeless. Very few of them died for science, for which Susan was secretly glad.
And where the predators are away, the prey will play. Which, from a human point of view, lead to clouds upon clouds of locally-spawned insects. The air was sometimes so thick with them that it was hard to tell night from day.
And some of them were the kind of insects that no human would miss. The blood-suckers, the stingers, and the ones that loved you like a long-lost sibling. And, of course, the ones that liked to breed inside food.
Susan could only watch as her parents and all the other adults donned face masks and eye goggles and just soldiered on through the thick, living blizzard made of billions of winged bodies.
But the plague of bugs was relatively short-lived. Birds, lizards and amphibians soon caught on that there was a feast available in the burgeoning expanse of Wiwazheer. They were very un-used to humans and didn’t know what these balding, upright apes could have meant to their species. Some of the littler kids lined the windows and laughed at how the birds and other insectivorous species would casually use humans as a roosting spot before launching towards another cloud of bugs.
For Susan, it meant that her parents were no longer covered in bug bites at interviews through the safety partition. They were covered in insectivore crap instead.
“Do we really need to let the ecology settle?” Susan begged. “Look at you. You just got over the bug bites and you’re covered in potential pathogens.”
“We came here with the ideal of living with the ecology, not fighting against it,” said Momma.
"We’re already doing enough damage by clearing this much forest,” added Dad. “The rest is just the critters being themselves. You can’t hate them for that.”
It was a hard lesson to learn, she knew. Humans were used to eliminating that which annoyed them. Or taming it to the point where it was unrecognisable as the original species.
But it was a lesson she took to heart. And why she fought so hard against her instincts when she first saw the image of a Numidid on Doctor Theresa’s screens. And why, when she saw one in person for the first time, told hir to move away for hir own safety.
And why, in the long run, she became Ambassador.
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Challenge #00735 - B004: Might or Flight
“You suggested something diplomatic,” [Person] noted.
“What, I can’t be diplomatic?” I asked, affronted. “I’m extremely diplomatic. I’m just brimming with diplomacy.”
“Of the Admiral Perry variety,” [Person] said.
“Gunship diplomacy is still diplomacy,” I protested.
“This is all very well for definitive terms,” reminded Captain Mij. “But when it’s us versus the humans, perhaps a more delicate version of diplomacy might be called for.”
“They’re closing on us,” noted K'cops. “Five thousand Rels.”
“Also, Admiral,” said the captain. “Gunship diplomacy is universally deplorable. You open fire on a weaker party, and you are reviled as a bully. You open fire on a stronger party and you’re lucky if there’s anything left to inter for a funeral. You open fire on an evenly matched party and you take your chances. Rattling sabres only really works until someone’s smart enough or stupid enough to call your bluff… which leads you straight back to the previous three choices. I told you when you started this ‘pleasure cruise’ of yours that I won’t be a bully and I’ll be a blob of grease only after you volunteer. Well you bloody volunteered, Admiral! Shall I throw you to the humans and take my chances or let us all become vapour in space?”
The Admiral, already slick with sweat, murmured a noncommittal noise.
“Four thousand, five hundred Rels,” intoned K'cops.
“I have a translation,” said Arahu. “According to the computer, the humans are angry because the Admiral opened fire on an unarmed transit shuttle. Full of school children.”
“Best effort message back,” said Captain Mij. “Match speeds with us, and we will send you the individual responsible.”
“MUTINY!” Bawled Admiral D'wolbarh. “Insubordination! I’ll have your stripes for this!”
Captain Mij sighed. “That would only work if you were assigned command of this vessel, Admiral. And only then if you weren’t retired. It’s a big, bad universe, Admiral. Much has changed since your days of Conquer by Command. For a start, we met a bigger, badder, meaner group of Deathworlders who would literally eat us alive if we tried the… idiocy… you did today. My best bet for a continuing peace between us and them is to gift-wrap the asshole who pressed the big, red button.”
“You can’t do this to me!”
“I can and I will, even if I have to stun you and cart you over piece by piece, Sir.” Captain Mij discretely hit the button to summon security before she stood up and advanced on the older woman. Backing her towards the vertical transit. “You opened fire without knowing the situation. You opened fire in direct opposition to the standing orders from Space Fleet Command. You opened fire, Sir, on an unarmed vehicle full of minors. I can and will do anything I please to you and Space Fleet Command will give me a firkin medal. Assuming we survive.”
“Human fleet stabilising at four thousand Rels distance, Captain.”
The security goons arrived, and Admiral D'wolbarh tried to fight. It was pathetic, especially considering the fact that Security was equipped with Stun Sticks as standard issue.
Captain Mij didn’t have to follow Security and the limp and twitching form of Admiral D'wolbarh to the best escape pod to fire her, alive, towards the waiting human fleet. She did not, having followed Security to the pod, make sure the Admiral was safely buckled in. Nor did she have to press the button that ensured a non-emergency release.
But she did all of that, anyway. And then she watched from a local screen display as the humans took the pod, the Admiral, and then took their leave. She watched until the human fleet was just a pinpoint of light in a sea of other pinpoints.
On one hand, it was a lucky escape. On the other hand, it was the definitive loss of a friend and mentor.
Captain Mij dismissed the Security detail and adjourned to her quarters. She had a letter to write to the Admiral’s husband and children.
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Challenge #00732 - B001: The Better Part of Valour
Person #1: A ‘strategic withdrawal’ is running away. But with dignity.
Person #2: So lay in a course and let’s get the dignified hell out of here.
Human ships. A fleet’s worth. Just hanging around in space, as one of their own authors was wont to say, in precisely the way that bricks don’t.
The crew of the Expendable Question could instantly tell that these vessels had been made by humans. They showed a deathworlder’s evident disregard for basic safety.
“Sir?” said science officer K'cops. “Might I recommend a strategic withdrawal?”
Captain Mij was busy staring, transfixed, at the view screen. “Very carefully, if you please.” Her hands were shaking. “Passive scanners only, gas thrusters only. Do not do a single thing to earn their attention.”
“Aye, Sir,” said Ulus, at the helm. She even moved to manipulate her controls carefully.
It was as if the entire bridge crew were.
Lieutenant Aruhu, the only male on the bridge, focussed his attention on the ear-bud that was near-permanent equipment as a comms officer. “I’m monitoring their communications, Sir. There’s no signal whatsoever. No radiation… nothing.”
“Best to be safe and certain, Lieutenant,” said Captain Mij. “Let’s be sure we’re out of scanner range before we engage the big engines.”
“Aye, Sir.”
Probes, sent much later, would verify that this particular patch of space was a dumping ground for decommissioned terran space vessels.
Captain Mij refused to feel silly about it. Those were deathworlder ships. For all she knew, they were rigged to explode.
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Challenge #00731 - A366: That’s Me All Over
“I thought we were going to knock it’s head off?” “We’re disassembling it into easily carried pieces”
“I really would advise against that,” said their victim. Currently a head on a shelf. But that was the problem when one was dealing with robots. They didn’t always die all at once.
“Stop talking, you’re supposed to be dead,” said McLargehuge. He was the smaller, smarter, and sneakier of the two thieves.
“I did knock its head clean off,” rumbled the human mountain known as Tiny.
“Good job there, fella. But I wouldn’t touch those power cables. Your cutting tools aren’t—”
BZZZZT
“—insulated.” The robot sighed. The good news, she could call by wifi for help. The bad news, her body was now in some significant disarray and incapable of pulling herself together.
Now. To shut down and save power or keep the line open and hope?
Some days, it seemed reasonable to quit while she was a head.
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