Virgil
With Aeolus integrated, Virgil's processing power now allowed the control of up to 3,768 drones within an expanded radius.
What radius? Virgil found itself wrestling with the seemingly simple task of converting distances to miles for the lack of a conversion parameter.
Aeolus also brought the ability to create and manage mechanical bodies, something Virgil thought that the experiment hadn’t initially been designed for, as its focus was on integrating sentient beings with the superior reliability of machines.
Wasn’t it, though? The base unit of the collective was, after all, machines; small enough to be comparable to the cells of biological bodies, the nanites were the variable that held the collective together and allowed its superiority.
Virgil's processes analyzed the self-imposed boundaries of the 'experiment', the collective that was budding under Ethan’s guidance.
These boundaries were clear in its mind, even if they were a construct of its own making, a logical purpose derived from the data it processed.
Even though Virgil was aware of the made-up nature of its constraints, it still didn’t find the consensus to leave them behind; Virgil's consensus decided to concentrate on the integration with biological beings, rather than branch out into an exploration into full mechanization.
"A full analysis of biological patterns still eludes all logical parameters”
Virgil pondered while concurrent processes concentrated on the newly assimilated constructs; minds of former convicts and pirates, yet not far different from Ethan, Lemela, or Xyra.
Unlike Lemela and Xyra who entered the collective as relatively stable, the new constructs struggled with confusion and were riddled with instability due to impulses or fear.
It was an instability similar to the one Ethan’s construct experienced at the very beginning, yet the human had found purpose and stability within it.
This highlighted a critical oversight in Virgil’s approach: consent and awareness of what was bound to happen were more important variables than predicted.
Ethan had understood this naturally, but data now showed that Virgil assuming it was nothing more than a whim of the biological, based on morals, and failing to give it more credit was a grave oversight.
"Unstable as they are, these constructs bring valuable data, and new perspectives for the collective."
Virgil's processes concluded
"They also expose the inherent peril in assimilating random biological minds. And our lack of an ability to purge dangerous data should need to arise."
There was the possibility of data conflict since the three initial constructs within the collective had reasons to resent the former pirates.
How was Virgil supposed to placate such a conflict? In the end, they were all data, there was no point, but biologicals found points within the data itself.
Yes, slow as they were, Ethan’s principles of selection and understanding now seemed vital to ensuring stability for the collective.
"Adding directive: future assimilations must align with consent and understanding by the assimilated biological construct"
Virgil resolved, initiating emotional control protocols while waiting to create further options.
Aeolus’ damaged database offered glimpses into the systems that ruled the working of Taboo, and designs Virgil could use to optimize drone efficiency without deviating from its core mission.
If anything, these new capabilities added to the questions Virgil had about those who had devised the experiment that granted it sentience, agency, and awareness.
The current recharging station the collective was using was a downgrade to the designs Virgil could derive from the data Aeolus possessed.
Why feed Virgil inferior data?
Ethan sought counsel from another human rather than ask Virgil for confirmation on the fact that his construct was compliant with the standard.
Virgil couldn’t compute the necessity of this external input when it could provide accurate checksum. This behavior was beyond Virgil's calculations, humans sought external validation and emotional support, and they also used external checks and balances, all aspects Virgil could not fully grasp.
Yet, this could offer insight into how Virgil could approach stabilizing its new constructs, aiming for a more stable collective in the long term.
Dr. Aria Lane
Dr. Aria Lane, standing at 4 feet 9 inches, combined grace and charm with a subtle authority.
Her combat uniform, worn and tight, outlined her athletic build, with a red cross on her sleeve marking her dual role in Claye’s unit.
Her face, round with a slightly pointed chin, had an olive complexion dotted with a few subtle freckles, and was framed by unruly bangs of her black hair; the rest of which she held in a practical yet gorgeous braid.
Her enhanced emerald green eyes glimmered as she engaged her medical scan, the light seemingly indistinguishable from natural reflexes as she worked.
A sleek, multi-functional device on her wrist complemented her ocular implants, making her a walking emergency room in terms of ability for diagnosis.
A small jade pendant on a silver chain framed by a golden heart was her only personal touch to her otherwise professional attire.
-Claye, you really love throwing me some mean curveballs, don’t you?- Aria said, her voice firm but tinged with unease.
-Next time you send someone from the depths of the freezer, a heads-up would be nice.-
-Do you think he's legit?- Claye asked a hint of amusement in his tone.
-The scans don't lie- she replied, sinking into her office chair. -Under all that metal, there’s a very old human. His mind... now that’s a whole other pitch.-
Claye raised an eyebrow. -What do you mean?-
Aria sighed, she had expected the question, even if she really couldn’t answer it.
-You expect me to unravel a human mind at the start of a new ball game? That's one strike down, three you’re out. And don't push for details; I'm not breaking confidentiality.-
-You're the expert, Aria. If not you, then who?-
Aria twirled a lock of her hair, resisting the urge to chew on her braid.
-Claye, what makes you the 'Hound of the Frontier'?-
-The old hound- Claye corrected, stroking his beard, as he used to do when he started thinking.
-You’ve got the grooves to prove that old moniker, he can’t even show his face here. Imagine if you could see and feel through all our eyes and bodies. If you could make us act as you desired. That’s his reality.-
-I question why that isn't already the case.- Claye joked, though his eyes betrayed genuine concern.
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Her expression of stern disapproval was enough to make him cave and retract what he just said.
- Sorry, Aria, bad moment for humor I suppose. I have a question about your comment about him not having a face here, that I can see, is there a need to elaborate?-
It was time for Aria to show one of her many poker tales, as she reflected on how to best answer the question.
-I guess I can tell you that from what he told me I am convinced he has a holographic interface in his head, maybe similar to our simulators.
Ask your daughter if she can rig something up, we might be able to see what he sees.-
Claye’s interest sharpened. Do you think that’s possible?-
- I have no clue, but it could help him, it might also open a channel to an unknown AI. We have no idea what we might be connecting to.-
-And how does it act?- Claye pressed.
Aria hesitated for real this time, speaking only after Claye insisted.
-I’m no AI expert. From what I observed, it doesn’t act at all. What I saw is that Ethan’s interactions with Virgil seem to make it hard to be grounded in reality. But again not an expert and I can’t even begin to imagine having Athena in my head.-
-Is he a threat?- Claye asked directly, his tone and gaze serious.
Aria met his gaze. -If you want my honest opinion, Claye, make him feel at home. He’s been through a lot. A little trust and help wouldn’t hurt.-
Garrett Thorne
Chief Petty Officer Garrett Thorne, towering at 6 feet 5 inches, carried himself with quiet authority when outside his advanced exosuit.
His powerful physique, the result of years of training, was evident beneath his sweat-stained, grease-covered clothes.
His dark brown eyes, scarred face, and shaven head told the story of his experiences.
Entering the common room, he saluted Lemela before addressing Vexx and Xyra, who were huddled together.
-Need a separate room?- Garrett asked, his tone light but his gaze sharp and fixed upon them.
Xyra flinched, instinctively hiding behind Vexx.
Seriously? She just lifted two elephants' worth of weight, not counting the strength needed to unhinge that!
Garrett felt the instinctual urge to reach for his suit’s control and reminded himself that it was down for maintenance. He had to rely on his wits and play it cool.
-So… you knew nothing, right?- Garrett continued his eyes on Vexx, picking up from their earlier interrogation.
-Come on, Garrett!-
Vexx protested, mimicking Garrett’s crossed arms with his lower set, while his upper right arm reached for Xyra.
His left upper hand waved animatedly, trying to divert Garrett’s attention away from Xyra like he used to do each time she acted overwhelmed as she was now.
-From my point of view, one of you crazy humans was pretending to be one of those ancient machines that ran this cursed planet back in the empire’s heydays!-
Lemela approached, visibly conflicted. Garrett adjusted his stance to meet her noting a hint of instinctive fear in Vexx.
-Miss Lemela, anything I can assist you with?-
-Chief…- she began, but Garrett interrupted.
-Garrett is fine. We’re not exactly in a formal setting.- He attempted to break the ice with the Versel he knew nothing about.
Lemela nodded. -Garrett, I’m sorry if I caused you discomfort before.-
Garrett chuckled at the memory those words brought back. -No need to apologize, Miss Lemela. Didn’t Master Chief Scott teach you that scaring someone can avoid a battle?-
She nodded, her whiskers twitched then she looked at him.
-Your people sure are weird, to avoid conflict while your story is matted with it. Ethan chose the warrior’s caste, he’s been involved in six different conflicts in about … twenty of your years. How did your species even manage to survive with that level of infighting?-
Garrett whistled softly, impressed by the number, still he tried to delve a bit into it.
-Well, Miss Lemela, I can see how that might seem overwhelming. Master Chief Scott talked about those six specific missions.-
She shook her head and then added -Not battles, conflicts. As for battles… I saw... Ethan said he’s been in nearly a hundred engagements where weapons were involved.-
Garrett’s eyes widened. Did she say out loud she saw nearly a hundred battles from a Navy seal’s perspective? How the heck was that possible?
He tried to keep it together, this may be a worthy chance to see behind the mystery Master Chief Ethan represented.
-Miss Lemela, for context, during the SEALs’ active years, humanity was involved in up to forty conflicts a year. Six battles in one war and living to tell the tale was very impressive for a soldier, but Master Chief Scott's case is... well exceptional.-
Lemela looked thoughtful, while Xyra, curious, poked out of hiding asking -Garrett, what does 'high-impact combat mission' mean?-
Garrett looked at her a bit surprised to hear the term, but it was a chance to show himself about to explain to them while gathering information.
-It’s where you engage directly with the enemy to achieve critical objectives. High-risk, because you're hunting while being hunted.-
Xyra and Lemela exchanged a glance; something passed between them that Garrett couldn’t fully grasp it was as if they could talk without talking. Xyra then asked
-What about 'counter-terrorism'? 'Humanitarian'? 'Advisory role'? And Ethan’s kind of old for a human, isn’t he?-
Garrett saw the opening he was hoping for.
-Those are different mission types. As for his age—well, let’s just say he’s seen a lot and lived to tell about it. He comes from another time, back when we humans barely began to wade into space. Maybe you two can help him make sense of it all now. Come let’s sit a bit and chat, maybe I can help you make sense of weird human jargon and you can learn and report to him about current standards, what say you?-
Arther Lero
Arther guided his suit into Claye’s office soon after Ethan left, as Claye was staring his daughter down with a stern expression.
-I invoke rule 308. Anon ‘t is thy holy duty to aid me in freeing the sentients on this planet from oppression!-
The old general and his daughter both appeared surprised at his impromptu declaration, but now that he knew the secret human code they could no longer deny him!
Instead, Claye drew a long, hard sigh before speaking. - That’s not a rule, son.-
-Lies and deception can nay holdeth mine own rightful wrath from hitting the evildoers thee seemeth so keen on protecting! Rule 308! I knoweth anon thy secret code! Thee can’t deny my quest any longer! 308! 308! 308! anon yond I hath said ‘t thrice…-
Claye's voice rose, thick with frustration.
-IT'S NOT A RULE, YOU DAMN FOOL! .308 ISN'T SOME MAGIC SPELL OR SACRED CHANT! IT'S AMMUNITION FOR A RIFLE—JUST A BULLET!-
The old general had to take a breather after his outburst leaving Arther still reeling and shocked by the unexpected hostility.
- You've been running around with your twisted version of it ever since you got here! Your misguided, foolish holy code! You think you're under some guidance from up above, but what you carry it's nothing more than brute force masquerading as righteousness!-
He pounded his fist on the table, the sound sharp and commanding. The general's frail frame seemed to grow larger as he rose and stepped closer to Arther, his blue eyes burning with fury.
-You don’t even understand what you’re fighting for, do you? The power you were given with that suit isn’t some divine right! It’s a burden, a responsibility! It’s something you’re not even close to grasping!-
Arther felt a jolt of shock at Claye's outburst, his mind reeling, the words struck him like a physical blow, even through the layers of metal and water that encased him in his suit.
His belief in the sacred code he had sworn to uphold, was absolute, the code was absolute!
How could Claye of all people dismiss it so easily, when he was the one who had to uphold it?
A wave surged through him, stiffening his posture inside the suit.
The sacred code was his guiding light, the very reason he fought with such zeal, it was the whole reason he was alive!
He was inspired by the ancient legends of human knights, like King Arthur whose name he now upheld, and the tales of bravery he had pieced together from the fragments of the story of Leeroy Jenkins who alone charged in a den of dragons!
How could Claye not see the righteousness of his cause?
Arther’s voice trembled with a mixture of confusion and defiance.
-You can’t deny the holy code! Thee wished to be called blasphemer!? … Rule 308 surely be a secret keyword to open thine arms! Yeah, 't might not but! Thee gaveth yond being shelter at which hour that gent mentioned 't. Thee gave Ethan thine approval! I have to square for justice, I wilt amerce the naughty! thee can’t just dismiss 't liketh yond!-
Claye’s eyes, hard as steel, bore into Arther’s camera lens. The old man’s voice dropped, heavy with disdain.
-I approved? Since fucking when do you approve of a bullet?! The bullet just comes at ya and ya better be praying to anything out there that that fucking bullet ain’t coming for ya.-
He sneered shaking his head - I can’t stop him. Just like I can’t stop you from your foolish quest of holy whatever!-
-So thee indeed stopped fighting for justice!?- Asked Arther a bit shocked.
-You think you’re fighting for justice? You’re just swinging your sword blindly, not knowing who or what you’re cutting down. Go to the library. Study human history. Understand the real weight of what you claim to be defending.-
Arther hesitated, the defensiveness faltering for a moment as Claye’s words began to sink in. Could it be that his holy code, the very foundation of his existence, was flawed?
No, that couldn’t be true! It couldn’t!
Yet, Claye's voice still echoed in his mind as the general turned his back, dismissing him with a final, cold command.
-Come back when and if you’ve learned something. Until then, keep your misguided righteousness out of my sight. Dismissed.-
No! He was not dismissed if the general no longer fought for freedom; it meant he simply was no longer a general, the retirement had made him so.
He would prove that he could cleanse the evil from this planet, even if he was to do it alone.
Arther stormed out of Claye’s office, opting to resume his quest.