Auxesia - Stories on the Eidolon Wraith

[A/)- The Inner Phalanx]

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Partners in Programming

Elhertani jogs along the plating of the observation deck with all the comfort of a rolling tank. She never liked observation decks - even though the glass was a mirage and the windows were fiction she detested even the idea of being shielded from the vacuum by a glass gauze. Jogging was a triviality, a residue element of person-hood. Little point in exercising her legs when her muscles could sit a thousand years in vacuum and still be perfectly serviceable after a few meteorite strikes. She was on lap seventy five now, and whilst the remains of her ventricles still throbbed and her

blood plasma still burned inside her, she showed no signs of slowing down. "Tacitus, close up, thanks." She said as she ran past. "What?" He asked while she jogged past, lowering himself into a controlled sprint to keep up and hear her answer. The stars whisked passed the Eidolon in a synthetic parabola of speed. They were supposed to change rapidity based on the velocity vector - Elhertani knew it was a crock of crap. Stars don't look like that at subliminal velocities. "You've seen the keeper anywhere? I've had mail sitting in her inbox for the last ten hours. Damn woman hasn't followed my advice to get a secretarial AI." Jested Elhertani. "She just went back to her room." Tacitus' voice was a little uneven due to the fact he was running while answering that. "How do you know my name?" It was the only obvious query he had at this point.

Nesrin grinned, swerving to avoid steamrolling the better half of Saracen wing huddled together amongst the star loungers. "That would be the obvious query wouldn't it. I make a habit of reading everyone's open bios. Yours was tough to check-lock and all I could grab out of it was a callsign. I figured anyone whose identity is critical enough to dapple with black ink was sufficiently close to H' and R' to give me an excuse as to why they don't read their mail." Replied Elhertani. "I'm not sure how I feel about that....but I'll relay the fact you want your messages checked." Tacitus slipped through the pilots of the Saracen wing, quickly pushing himself forward and back into a jog to keep up with her. Nesrin nods affirmation, breathing stertorously through her nose, legs propelling her over the ceramic tiles. "Thank you soldier...." She swerved narrowly, nearly upending a floor plate out of it's fixtures as she ground to the stop, steel toes locking to the panels like breaks to a wheel. It's noticed she's not wearing any shoes. "Wait. That's MWS armour, right?" Queried Elhertani. Noticing her sudden stop, Tacitus jams his feet down, his boots magnetize and bring him to a halt about five inches from her wherein he nearly trips but manages to fumble out of her way onto his feet properly. "Right...magnetized boots and ceramic tiles...bad. Noted for future reference." He mutters before pondering her question.

"Yeah, woah, steady." A tungsten hand locks around your shoulder, suspending you on your feet. "MWS armour - C1 variant, correct? Not often you see someone test cruising that outside of the AGW suite. You mind coming with me for a while?" Asked Elhertani. "It's built on the same frame but employs different materials and a different exterior design pattern." Tacitus glances at the arm she has on his shoulder and then back at her, he can't help but notice she seems 'different' from 'regular' people and continues pondering the situation and her second request.

Elhertani grimaces, releasing her grip slightly awkwardly, her hand clasping behind her with a noticeable jar, like a body builder struggling with a can of pickles. "Sorry. I'm used to smaller interior environments than this one. Trip hazards tend to kill people." She paused briefly, taking another look at Tacitus. "I can see that. Yeah. Plasteel nano-lattices. Non-thermic situational hard-fields. I bet if I threw a rock at you it'd hit the ground as sludge." She angles her head, staring at him as a farmer would a prize cow. "It'd only be a quick trip to the armoury. Pick up cannon, shoot cannon, hand back over said cannon, go about your business. Please." She noted. "Alright then, lead the way." Tacitus felt a little...scrutinized, but it didn't feel bad, only slightly awkward. While walking with her he would pull up her files and read what he could in regards to who she was, which only ended up leaving him with more questions than answers.

Despite how friendly she seemed, Tacitus was reluctant to ask her anything out of the concern she might see them as personal questions. "What's your name?" He asked for the sake of formality and introductions rather than just blatantly pulling that from her files. "Take this lift." Elhertani punched in a series of floor numbers that seemed to defy reason as the mag tube slewed through the ship, pushing them against the floor in spiteful defiance of the inertial dampeners. "Didn't I inform you already? Frick's sake, sorry. Nesrin Khan, guardian status but with a few special privileges like the one I'm about to show you. I've got a few pointless middle names but they're dead air." She replied with a formal undertone. "Derek, Sentinel. I work under direct instruction from the Keeper and the Curator." Tacitus offered her a handshake by stretching his arm out slowly before he would consider getting into the lift. Elhertani's demeanor switches faster than she would have if she was whacked with a cattle prod. "Sir." She salutes, fist-to-chest, before returning the shake. "Callsign Erinyes for all that counts. Whoever thought of that one clearly has a sense of ironic humor." She jokingly said. "I'd assumed you were one of the deck five marines, Sir. Apologies for breaking chain of command and ordering you around." Tacitus chuckled to himself under his helmet. "That's fine. Easy to mistake a person hidden inside a combat suit for one of the regulars." He took one slow step into the lift, clasping his hands behind his back. Although not visible behind his tinted visor, he would occasionally glance at her, remaining quite curious about this whole situation.

The android seals the lift doors as soon Tacticus steps inside, nearly clamping the tube around his calves. From the slight depression indented into the hand scanner it's a wonder if it's ever going to work for anyone else, ever again. "With your permission, sir, I'd still request your aid. I need someone other than me to test out an anti-infantry cannon. My psyche profile doesn't permit me to carry live arms on the Wraith." She said plainly. "Which kinda' fubars everything when you're head of weapons RnD. You see the problem, Sir. Plus, the system is kinda' designed to work with the C1, and you're model is as close as I'm going to get. Call it opportunism." She smiles, cheeks askew, with all the hale eyes of a human desperate struggling to give the illusion that they actually like people. "Understood, I'll help you out." Tacitus said in a firm tone, not wanting to bother her too much with chatter but she seemed comfortable with talking to him at least. He would wait for this lift to reach its destination patiently. He briefly turned his helmet towards her and let his visor run a quick scan. Revealing she had more prosthetic material on her body than there was actual flesh, unlike the regular person however he didn't find this unsettling, neither did he decide to comment on it. But it explained a few things and lead him to the assumption that she might have been a sentient machine of sorts, but once re-reading her file he concluded she was a person with sentient artificial intelligence inside her.

Nesrin bridled slightly at the prospect of being scanned, her tampered nervous system spitting cortisol. She breathed, steadily, locking her fingers together behind her back. "I'm radiologically sensitive, Sentinel. Scans tend to... agitate, the... host. The being I'm a carrier for." She grimaced obliquely. "Gammuian paranoia." Mentioned Elhertani, slightly unnerved. "I'd appreciate if you warn me before hitting me with anything more intense than LIDAR, Derek." The lift slewed to a stop that would have fused bone together if not for the field dampening. "We're here. Come this way sir." Gestured Elhertani, disabling the door's magnetic locks. "I'm...extremely sorry, I didn't...realize." He muttered in an uneven tone, slightly agitated with himself for doing that now. "It's my fault, I should have warned you. My file isn't exactly transparent either and I should have assumed you would have run one. Don't let it trouble you." The cyborg stepped into the matte gunmetal hall that lead to the armoury and range, deep within the bowels of the ship. The chrome artistry and blue and white light strips that defined much of Auxesia's interior design did not exist here - just functional, blast resistant polymer walls, and empty surface volume. "Step inside." Tacitus gives her a nod and does as she asks, stepping inside where she wanted him to go albeit slowly, scanning the area since it appeared so different from the rest of the ship. "So this is where...all the shooting happens?" He asks in a quiet tone, still looking around. "Close to it. Just behind here."

At the end of the corridor lies a heavy, mottled security door comprised of four, interlocking tungsten steel plates. The kind of metal you'd clad a rocket engine bell with, covered with Widmanstätten patterns of fortified structural alloy. It'd take a mid-sized artillery piece a week to blast through all that structural mass. Nasrin pressed her hand against the biometric scanner, and you wonder how it operates in the absence of flesh. You assume there's a transceiver of some kind between her palm and the mechanism. The door slides apart without so much as a hiss of a seam.

Inside, lay a grey chamber, the size of a small warehouse. You wonder how much of the Eidolon's interior volume it spans - certainly enough to make for a respectable range. Bizarrely, the walls give off slight EM emissives, as if a supercomputer rack was concealed behind the blackened plates. "Impressive..." Tacitus whispers to himself as he walks in just behind her, taking it his surroundings and preparing himself for weapons testing. "This is our range. It spans the majority of the armoury and its associated machine shop. We can test everything up to fighter ordinance in here, and when it's not being used as a range, we can reconfigure the entire room's structure to simulate any CQB environment imaginable, in any conditions possible." Nesrin took a moment to pause and look around, pointing out objects of interest. "We can simulate wind, weather, feature convincing holograms to provide the illusion of being planetside, and holo-androids that will knock you on your ass given the chance. The closest you can come to a ground war without being at any risk to your own life or the lives of others." Tacitus doesn't reply to that, but notes down the location mentally so he can come here in the future to work on his weaponry efficiency.

"we're volume limited of course, so no tank battles inside the Eidolon." Elhertani smiles weakly. A machine's approximation of a joke. "Fair enough." Tacitus agrees albeit with a small muffled chuckle. Nesrin's eyes widen enough that the LEDs become visible. She'd not used to people laughing with her. The perception passes as quickly as it came. "Oh Christ, I don't think I ever answered your question properly why I needed specifically you. Wait a mo'." Said Elhertani. "Sure." Tacitus responded, almost enthusiastically, standing firm and resolute, waiting patiently. He observes Nesrin opening a trap door in the floor that would have been invisible to observation otherwise. He realizes that probably the entirety of the walls and ceiling are comprised of equivalent reconfigurable panels - this room was probably designed for zero-gee ops once. Inside, lies a gun rack. "Here. Take this." She offers out a weapon. Tacitus takes a few steps towards her and takes what she's asking him to, looking over it carefully.

"This is tinier than I expected." If she could see his face she would know he was grinning as he gripped it firmly in his hands. "Yeah. It's not huge. Singularity power pack in the buttstock so it won't run out of power, ever. It's a Quark-gluon plasma gun with no frills, using a magnetic bottle to project the plasma in the required direction instead of causing the atmospheric air to explode. Absolutely no thermal change until the pulse impacts the target. When it does impact, well, we're talking four trillion kelvin. Atomic particles don't survive well under that much thermal energy. This is the no frills, no stock prototype model. Great for drilling a very small, precise hole in body armour and vaporizing the person behind the armour. On the plus side, if you get shot by it, it's self-cauterizing. Design of yours truly." Elhertani performs a joke of a bow.

"What do you want me to shoot?" Tacitus asks, familiarizing himself with the weight and feel of the weapon, taking the information she told him into account to further utilize the weapon to the fullest efficiency it could possibly go. "Nothing yet. Hold on. You see anything going on in your armour HUD? If it hasn't calibrated yet, give it a few more seconds. There's a reason why this hand cannon doesn't have iron sights." Inquired Elhertani. Tacitus suit's systems automatically enabled a small crosshair on the H.U.D allowing him to track where his weapon was pointed. "Yep, I've got the sights virtually simulated." He replied. "That's not the impressive part. Hold on, I'm going to dial in some targets. Better yet, I'll show you how to do it yourself so you can come here whenever. Here." Khan takes a few steps over. "Permission to call you 'Nessa' from now on?" Tacitus asks abruptly, practicing his movements with the gun, suddenly snapping his arms up and aiming at imaginary targets. "There's a spot for it. Usually I don't use the terminal since I'm neurally interfaced.... wait... Nessa?" Nesrin hesitates, and does something remarkably normal. She bites her cheek. The fact she's doing it with ceramic clad tungsten teeth doesn't spoil the image even slightly. "Sure. Feel down to this spot on the floor for me. Where my hand is." Tacitus crouches down, at first his hand brushes on top of hers before falling onto the surface of the flooring just next to it, feeling about like she asked. "There. You've got it. Alright. Don't press, don't try to pull the tiles up. Just think about picking something up, but don't actually do it. It'll help make the neural connection. Try not to jump when you pull an access terminal the size of a small car out of the ground, EDI will think you want the gravity lowered and you'll brain the ceiling. I did the first time." Mentioned Elhertani.

Tacitus takes a breath and thinks about picking up a computer. For some reason that was the only thing he could think of in the moment. "Thinking about it..." He whispered while holding the thought so that she knew he was ready. Under Tacitus' be-suited hand, the grey tiles of the floor peel back against each other, folding back into seeming oblivion as a large data access terminal, unremarkable except for its entrance, pushed itself up against Tacitus' palm, rising up to sit against the ground, comfortably close. "Nice. I had problems on my first try." Nesrin grinned, flicking tabs on the display's touchscreen, before deftly bringing one to the front between two fingers. "I seem to luck out with my first attempts at things..." He mutters implying something he probably wouldn't want to explain. Somehow, without her moving in any way to affirm, it's noted she's listening. Of course she's listening. She probably logs every sound in the room. "Here you go. Simply select the range and tap in anything you want to shoot. Targets, drones, representations of people you have a vengeful streak for if you're so inclined - anything on the neural net, we can do here. That's the simple way of describing what we have here, but given time, you'll be able to create whatever environment you want here. All I need is the telemetry data from the gun. Safety is ambidextrous, standard positioning. Sorry if the grip is a little crap - it won't charge if I pick it up or even detach itself from the gun rack. Fail safes and all." Elhertani winces, cold in self-address.

"Best part is the gun will start self-correcting if what you're looking at through your visor and what your eyes are focused on are consistent and match, which means you can effectively curve the projectiles given sufficient practice and steady eyes. It's not foolproof, weirds some people out and can be turned off. But it works." Said Nesrin. Tacitus does as instructed and eventually a simulated version of those men from Cambridge appear down-range. Not moving yet because they haven't fully buffered in, but when they do, their holographic bodies charge down range. Nesrin steps back. The intangible feel of static between Tacitus' helmet and hair and the amber lights on your suit indicating the forcefield that had snapped on between you and her. "People. Interesting choice, Derek." She sounds demurring in a sense. "Friends of yours?" She asked. "They wish." His hand snaps up, firing four consecutive shots, all aimed at the genitals of the targets, who buckle over in intense but simulated pain and then vanish in a flash of corrupted code. She grins mirthlessly. "What is it with guys and shooting nuts?" She lets out a brief chuckle. "These ones in particular deserve it. Were you informed of what happened on Camrbidge?" Asked Tacitus. Nesrin shook her head. "Lots of things happen on Cambridge. That means no." She replied. "You seem trusted enough, so I'll share." He keeps the weapon at his side while walking back over to her. "It leaves a bad taste in my mouth to discuss the whole event, but in summary, both Aria and the Keeper were sexually abused by men on Cambridge." Tacitus explained, his tone somewhat going grim.

Nesrin's eyes greyed over, The cyborg's hands clawing the air beside her, mouth without a line. "What did you just say?" She said sternly. "Our squadron was assigned to extracting the Keeper and Keating during the aftermath, all of them are dead thanks to Keating, the two that tried to pursue us I killed personally. While Artemis mopped up those in a land vehicle." Explained Tacitus. Nesrin stared into the blackness of the far expanse. She could have been looking out to the end of the universe. "No survivors?" She inquired coldly. Tacitus gives her a reassuring pat on her metallic shoulder to both calm her down as well as bring her back to reality. "None that I know of." Nesrin turns at him like a trodden snake. You can see an edge of teeth. "What idiot was running their security detail?" She croaked, hollow eyed. It might have gone entirely unnoticed during their time together, but there was a blade sheathed on Tacitus' shoulder. "I'm not sure on those details, my assignment was simple. Land at the drop-site, extract them and I did just that." He explained. "Who tipped you off?" Asked Nesrin. "The Curator deployed us." Replied Tacitus. He shuffled momentarily on the spot, clearly uncomfortable on the subject of what occurred. "Why were they alone?" Queried Nesrin. "I don't know..." He says softly but also in contemplation, wondering whether telling her this is even wise, it's visibly upsetting her. Tacitus wiggles the gun in her field of view to get her attention back on the subject at hand. "The weapon is perfect, aside from the grip."

Nesrin shakes herself. A physical, furious jolt as a few hundred thousand servos lock and unlock as one. "Yeah, I keep forgetting most people have shorter fingers. It's modular so replace it with whatever you want. Slide it, and it'll come off, but not if you're holding the grip or have it holstered so it won't come apart on you. It's imprinted to your suit so it's technically yours now unless you or somebody with the relevant access keys resets it - so keep it, Derek. It's yours. I've already gathered all the ballistic data I needed." She said plainly. "Don't even know what I look like and you're giving me gifts. I'll add charming as one of your traits to my observational analysis of you." He utters a small laugh and presses the weapon into a free holster of his. She squeezes her eyelids together, as if trying to crush out the pressure in her mind. "Raped. Allah be kind to them. Somebody must have sent them." Stated Nesrin. "They were just the regular vagrants. But I'll look into it a little more if I can." Assured Tacitus, trying to avoid escalating the situation. Nesrin narrows here eyes. "You really believe that? Really? Who ever heard of a gangbang in Cambridge?" Said Nesrin with a mocking undertone. "I know how you feel and I feel the same right now, but to be like this in the open only makes it tougher for them to move past the trauma. I /will/ look into the matter, you have my word." Responded Tacitus. Nesrin cut him off with a wave of a steel hand. "Hold on. It's easy to give somebody words. People do it all the time. If you really are going to investigate this, I'm joining you." She stated sternly.

Tacitus tilts his head at her slightly, pondering her reasoning behind her words. "They saved my life, Derek. More than that, they saved me from myself. I have a future because of them. And possibly, so does the rest of the bloody sector." Preached Elhertani. "Understood..." Tacitus raised his hand so that she didn't need to justify her reasons any further. "Warning. If you deny me this, I'll work on it independently... right. You're with me. Good." Replied Nesrin, calming down slightly. "I will allow for your cooperation with me on this, we share anything we find but under no circumstances bring this up to the Keeper or Aria. Discuss the results with the Curator. I don't want to traumatize anyone further. Since this isn't a squad assignment but one taken out of personal motivation, the rest of the squadron won't be assisting without clear reason, just you and me for now." Explained Tacitus. Nesrin nods. "Deal. I'm ex-BAF, Derek. I know how to respect chain of command. I'll almost certainly have a better command of Bretonian space than you - I even still have some friends in the Armed Forces. More critically, My God, I'm a head case. Give me a reason to protect my Keeper and to get out of this steel tube? It's fricking Christmas." Nesrin said, clenching her fist behind her back. "Your enthusiasm and skill is noted and respected." Responded Tacitus. "When do we start?" Asked Nesrin. "I'll contact you twenty-four hours from now once I've made proper arrangements and dealt with a few things. We start then, no deviating and investigating alone." Explained Tacitus, adopting a somewhat commanding tone. Nesrin snorts. "I know you don't trust me yet, Derek, but we almost got there. I'm the least likely person to gossip on the entire ship. And professionally; yes Sir." Replied Elhertani.

"Do you have evidence that I have distrust for you? If I did this entire conversation would never have happened." Elaborated Tacitus. "Good case. Apologies Sir, the last entity that confided in me transformed me into a walking server bank. You might understand my problem." Responded Nesrin. "I trust you and according to the popular phrasing people use I also 'have your back' in matters that require it." Said Tacitus. "Negative. I have yours. Rank considered." Retorted Nesrin. "I'd much prefer the consideration of a friend in this case. Rank when officially needed." Finished Tacitus. They would talk some more but only briefly before returning to their own personal business aboard the ship. Tacitus would leave early in the morning, his destination not really clear at the time of departure or announced, but his return was inevitable.

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