“Approximately nine years ago,” Alistair began, sighing slightly as he paced back and forth, “A group of various programmers, engineers, computer scientists, and financiers came together with one goal in mind; To create the next generation of battlefield A.I. This consortium of great thinkers and powerful backers became known as The Manna Group. For nearly a decade they worked on divining the perfect algorithm and matrixes to make an A.I. that was not only autonomous and self-learning, but self-evolving as well. This went farther than just adding a few million lines of code to make it smarter. It was the aim… our aim to make such a consciousness that can analyze the pilot on an unconscious level and upgrade itself to sync with them perfectly. Two minds to one machine, with a connection that went as deep within the mental, physical and emotional state as one machine can be to an organic.”
“Hold up,” Cameron said, looking at Alistair warily, “What do you mean by ‘our aim’?”
Alistair coughed, pulling at his shirt collar, “There’s not really a sense in hiding it from you all I suppose, seeing as Ms. Moore is aware and that’s the only one who matters in the eyes of the criminal court. Yes, I was among the financiers of The Manna Group. For years I backed them and helped fund research and development for the system, until I was bought out by my contemporaries and left with nothing but pennies and information. Information which I then used for leverage with EarthGov to garner immunity as well as a special mission request with central command.”
Logan laughed derisively, “So the other kids said you couldn’t play with them anymore and you decided to go tattle on them. You’re a punk Alistair, always have been, always will be.”
Alistair sucked in through his teeth, responding back to Logan with a slight edge in his voice, “This punk is about to make you fucks a lot of money Rake… Show some respect.”
“I will… when you earn it.”
“Alright boys, put the measuring tape away,” Sybil said, amusement clear in her tone as she broke the tension with her easy-going persona, “Alistair, be a dear and show them what you showed me.”
Alistair sighed and reached into his pocket, searching around before producing a small device which he placed on the table. It was disk shaped and made of a dark reflective metal, with a white electronic dot set in the center.
“This should make things a bit clearer,” Alistair said, walking up and tapping the center, before stepping back allowing the device to spin up and turn on, producing a picture of a canister, close to Cameron’s forearm in size and glowing a deep sapphire blue.
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“May I introduce A.E.I.A, the Autonomous Evolutionary Integration Assistant, or Aeia for short. This is the culmination of a near decade of work, and enough money to fill a planet. This is what you’re here for. This is what we want.”
“In approximately thirty-six hours…,” Sybil said, standing up and switching places with Alistair who plopped down in the booth, “A team of special forces operators will be raiding Manna Group’s main lab on an asteroid cluster out in the Kruegan Reach. Thanks to Alistair’s intelligence, we’re confident the rogue A.I. is located there. What we don’t know however is the current defensive posture, which is where you come in, Gentlemen. Your job would be twofold. First of which would be supporting the boots on the ground, acting as the heavy hitters should Squires, or other A.R.M.S. units be stationed there. Second, we would need one of you to join in on the raid in order to grab the module to bring back her, or failing that, destroy it.”
“Destroy it?” Cameron said, “If this is supposed to be the most advanced A.I. around, wouldn’t you want its safe return a priority?”
Sybil chuckled and shrugged, “We don’t know the full extent of the A.I.. It could very well be all smoke and mirrors. A bunch of bullshit to tell shareholders in order to keep the money flowing. Or it very well could be the next evolution in Piloting since the neural uplink. EarthGov isn’t all too concerned about the specifics if I’m being honest, as long as it doesn’t end up in the hands of someone we can’t… work with.”
“So,” Cameron began, looking between a skeptical looking Logan and an expectant looking Sybil, “Let me get this straight. You want us,” he said, motioning to himself and Logan, “You want me and dickhead over here, to jump face first into some secret squirrel black ops style mission for the government who fucking EXILED me, because a bunch of assholes we don’t know decided to write a bunch of code a decade ago and y’all don’t like it?”
“Dickhead?” Logan said.
“Yes,” Sybil replied smoothly, batting her eyelashes.
“Why?” Cameron asked, crossing his arms and leaning back, eyeing his mysterious paramour warily.
“Because I’m asking nicely,” She said, putting a little extra honey in her voice.
“And because we’ll pay you enough silver to buy your own freighter fleet,” Alistair chimed in.
“But mostly, because I’m asking nicely, Cam,” Sybil said, giving him a grin and a wink that made his stomach knot.
“Welp,” He said, after a few moments of intense thought before turning to Logan, “I’m sold, what about you?”