The monorail ride from the station to the primary control structure was quiet for the most part. Between fear that the Monitor was luring them into a trap and venturing into the unknown, the terrans were as nervous as one would expect given such circumstances. Alexia readied an emergency kinetic dampening field with the marines should the train run into anything while Violet tried to act casual near the front windows to give a warning should the worst come to pass.
That left Aurora with her holographic doppelganger. Aurora sat apart from her family in hope that the Monitor didn’t have enough cameras to watch everyone at once. The train itself only had one functional car, so Aurora sat next to the doors and waved at the Monitor who was standing impassively in the center of the car. “Hey, pal, you got a minute?”
The Monitor turned to the anthropomorphic alicorn with an inquisitive head tilt. “I assume you mean to ask, have I got time to speak.” The monitor gave off an amused chuckle. “Oh yes, far more than I ever wished.”
Aurora chewed on her inner cheek in an attempt to understand the AI, but facial expressions were not forthcoming while its image mirrored Aurora’s helmet. “I gotta ask, why did you appear as a carbon copy of me instead of your usual image?”
“It is customary for all public access cogitator entities to resemble the highest lifeform or staff member in charge of their department. Since no Koridost are present in-station, protocol dictates that you are the highest organic being here.”
“So… what? You have to mimic me perfectly or can you switch it up?” Aurora replied with a faint note of pride. It had taken her many decades to shape her body to its current meld between pony and human physiology, and she was by no means above taking pride in it.
“While I know of your form, I know not of your culture since Terrans are absent in my databanks. I wish not to cause offense by following all standard Koridost practices.” Aurora was silent for a bit, prompting the Monitor to elaborate. “Due to the creators’ goal for biological perfection, nudism is preferable to showcase their interpretation of perfection. But then again, the usages of clothing to accent their bodies is not unheard of among my creator’s society. I have never really understood while so many cultures have to cover themselves in some sense of bodily shame.”
“A notion the Koridost agree with, perchance?” Violet asked derisively.
The monitor completely missed the tone of voice. “Well as I said, one can hardly display perfection when you cover it up with clothing.”
“I see.” Aurora hummed as to how best to answer that. Not wanting to use a magical hologram, Aurora stood up to use herself as a prop. “For myself, I only have modesty around the front of my chest, while human females do the same while also including the hip,” Aurora waved her hands around herself as she explained. “Male humans only truly care about the hip area while ponies in general have no modesty. Assuming they haven’t shaved their fur or one reason or another.”
By now, Alexia had the marines set to enact the kinetic dampening field, should the need arise, so she was free to join Aurora’s conversation. She walked over quietly, having listened to everything via her daughter’s radio. The Monitor fizzed a little as she processed Aurora’s lecture. “Fascinating. Not only do you blend both species’ biology, but their customs as well. Truly you were designed by a mastermind of your world.”
The hologram exploded in a haze of light before reforming into a slightly different new form. The Monitor still had Aurora’s shape, but was now bereft of the environmental suit to proudly display Aurora’s body style while only having a simple cloth band covering the Monitor’s chest. The AI went so far as to remain semi-transparent, as protocol demanded.
Aurora arched an eyebrow at the hologram while glancing at her mother who was now circling around the hologram to join her. “As flattering as all this is, my mother,” Aurora nodded at Alexia, “is my superior here.”
“Mother? Ahh the Master Fleshweaver,” the Monitor clasped her hands and bowed deeply toward Alexia. “Of course, my praises on such impeccable workmanship. I know quite a few fleshweavers who would be cross with envy at such a perfect melding.”
“Charmed,” Alexia replied worriedly at such a title. “However, that was all Aurora’s doing. She started life as a fully pony like myself.”
“Truly?” The Monitor was caught between surprise and praise. “Very few civilizations ever reach the point where they can make such radical changes directly to themselves, let alone all within a single generation. You Terrans are more advanced than I originally thought.”
“Glad to hear it,” Alexia replied diplomatically before her daughter could speak of her growing exasperation at so much attention. “Now, since we’re still not at the station yet, why not fill us in on what happened to this facility? How long has this place been a ruin?”
The Monitor’s voice grew saddened, but the face didn’t change since she didn’t know how terran body language worked yet. “I would imagine Sugar Station was a victim of the war between the Koridost and the Crusade nearly eighty standard cycles ago. With so many of my resources destroyed and the Confederate Systems still unresponsive to my distress beacon, I have not had the ability to do much repair work as a virtual-only entity.”
“And who is the Crusade?” Aurora asked, only for the monorail to start slowing down.
“I’m not entirely sure,” the Monitor replied evenly. “Much of my old memory was destroyed in the attack. I was only able to remain active in my admittedly damaged redundant systems. Either no repair drones survived the attack, or they have been severed from my connection.”
The train doors opened wide with the atmosphere preserving barrier taking its place. The terrans gazed out into the sporadically lit massive chamber beyond. “So I see,” Alexia replied as her brethren slowly spread out into the train’s receiving platform.
What might have been a marvel of alien industry had been reduced to a collection of shattered machines. After taking stock of her new surroundings, Alexia and the others realized the monorail had taken them into the middle of what she assumed was an ore processing chamber. Vast cauldrons and machines were interspaced between conveyer belts still loaded down with chunks of asteroid. There were several massive ribbons of cooled metals splattered under several elevated rails. On top of it all was a series of large holes along the high ceiling that left the chamber open to the hard vacuum of space.
One of the marines whistled at the sight of it. “Hot damn, wish I could have seen this place in it’s prime.”
“We’d probably be fighting for our lives if it were,” remarked another.
Seeing as there was no air and Alexia was not willing to give the AI her radiofrequency, she went back into the train’s atmosphere where the Monitor was still waiting. However, the monitor spoke before Alexia could. “My apologies for the lack of air, I admit I only kept that monorail station’s atmosphere intact for… personal reasons.”
Alexia started having difficulty thinking of the monitor along the same lines as Silent Witness. Sentimentality. What a strange quality to give an AI. “This Crusade of yours really came down hard,” Alexia said sympathetically. “We saw some robots out in the… farm, I guess? Why can’t you repurpose them?”
“Sadly, that would require physical means to repurpose them. Alas, that is what the client races were for,” the Monitor replied woefully. “The…” The AI reconsidered naming the species, fearing it would be unpronounceable in the Terran tongue. “The ones you saw dead in the previous area were the Felaran, I like that name, means loyal farmer. They are one of the oldest client races to join the Confederation.” It paused a few moments to see if Alexia had any issue with the name. “The Crusade made sure to slay them all before leaving. Although it puzzles me that the invaders gave the security teams their last rites and no one else.”
“So I noticed,” Alexia replied grimly. “You said you want to leave Sugar Station.”
“Oh yes, of course, organic, as is tradition, I will uphold my end of the bargain first. I’ll light the way to the nearest surviving data terminal before guiding you to my core.”
“Call me Princess Alexia,” she replied briskly, though most of that ill temper was directed at herself for forgetting to name herself after so long.
“So personal names are important to your civilization after all? I was beginning to wonder. You can use my designation: 8201 Dry Oasis.”
Alexia simply nodded agreeably. Dry Oasis took it as a signal to have what few holographic emitters it had left in the smeltery to light up. Alexia left the monorail to find a sparkling snake made from motes of light that carved a straight path towards the far end of the chamber, deeper into the structure’s interior.
As Alexia departed the platform she caught herself from using magic, and used her eyes instead to switch her suit’s comm suite to use close range lasers rather than a radio. “Listen up, everyone, switch over to L-comms. We’re operating under the assumption that the AI can decrypt our transmissions, so no more radio from here on out if we want any privacy.”
A brief round of affirmatives rang out from the gathered marines. The group’s path was hardly the straight and simple affair that it would have been in the station’s prime. The battle from ages’ past had littered the wide walkway between the monorail platform and the far end of the smeltery with so much debris and vacuum preserved corpses that they often had to walk along areas where foot traffic was originally impossible.
Violet slipped back towards the rear of the formation towards Slim Shady. “Corporal, prepare a burst transmission to Foe Hammer so they can relay it back to base. Let them know of the open deal with the AI, and see what they advise.”
“As you wish, my Demi-Goddess,” Slim answered with deep reverence.
Violet furrowed her brow at the form of address, but simply nodded before returning to her mother’s side. Seems Shady is as devout as Second-Mother Crimson was. I bet mom just loves that.
The snaking trail of color led the terrans to a blasted open bulkhead that was still blackened by carbon scoring. However the tell-tale membrane of an atmosphere preservation barrier was covering the breach. Alexia and Captain Koss were the first to pass through with the other terrans close behind. Violet detached an inactive teleporter beacon near the entrance as insurance, and silently informed Alexia and her sister about it.
The new room was quite short, only large enough for everyone to stand comfortably. A few lights sparked on while Dry Oasis fizzled on a display pedestal. “My aaa-pologies, terrans, but the local sub-sub-subsystems in this area are badly-terribly-horrifically damaged. I-I-I am unable to speeEEEeeeeak normally here.”
The floor shuddered violently before it started to rise, making everyone realize it was an elevator. Alexia prepared to use the teleport beacon as she addressed the AI. “Look, we appreciate you taking us to the control room to access your data files, but what if our superiors choose not to take you with us in our… search for the Koridost?” Oasis’ shaky and sporadic hologram was too damaged to gauge any reaction. “You have to understand the power a… cogitator entity such as yourself could wield against us.”
“If-if your government does n-n-n-ooot allow me passage, off of Sugar-Sugar-Sugar Staaaation, you will at least take control of this facility will you not?” The elevator halted abruptly with no doors nearby, assumingly trapping the terrans in place. “I may not have combat protocols, but I can adapt numerous murderous-destructive-disciplinary meEEeasures if need be.”
The marines tensed, just a wing-gesture from Alexia kept them from drawing. I had to tell it here and now while it thinks it has some power over us. “We believe that our government would would want to take control over this facility, given the absence of any Koridost. But you need to realize that we may not be allowed to take you out of this facility.”
The speakers let off a harsh electronic squeal. “Insufficient! Yo-yo-you must give a solemn oath t-t-to give me any innnfooormaaaation on the location-status-whereabouts of my creators. I will not abide anything less.”
Violet glanced at her mother, but kept her focus on the shaky hologram. Mother may have a lot of pull in SOL, but I don't know if she can really promise even that much unless the council is in agreement.
Thinking along similar lines, Alexia still wanted to give diplomacy a chance. I was hoping to just gauge her thoughts on the matter, not force a decision before Command could give a reply. Cursing herself for poor wording, Alexia steeled herself. “Alright, Oasis, I promise you that I’ll send any knowledge we get on the whereabouts of the Koridost to you.” Koss and the others shot Alexia weary glances, but kept silent for the time being.
Aurora pulled up close to her mother to limit any chance Dry Oasis could intercept the comm laser. “Mom, are you sure you can do that? If the council or command doesn’t like it…”
“Don’t worry, Aurora, it wouldn’t be the first time the council and I haven’t seen eye to eye.” Mother and daughter shared a heavy moment before Aurora nodded curtly and backed away.
Dry Oasis was silent for several quiet moments. Aurora and the marines mentally prepared themselves for a rapid teleport should the AI prove hostile. Without preamble, the elevator shuddered into motion once more, leading the terrans up to the control room. “Very well teeEEerrans. I will give-grant you public knowledge available to all client willing slave races, but I will sp-sp-sp-spppppEEEEEeeeeeak with your superiors before giving anything beyond that.”
“Agreed,” Alexia replied curtly. The terrans relaxed their grip of their weapons, but the tension was still at the back of everyone’s minds.
We should frag this broken AI when we get the chance, Slim Shady grumbled to himself, if only to keep from letting the fear get to him.
The elevator arrived at a mid-level floor only to reveal the door had been blasted open like so many before it. Within was a sizable room that had the worst battle damage seen yet. What had once been a dozen rows of control consoles and holographic display screens was now little more than a charred ruin with blackened corpses littering the floor. The room itself was shaped like a doughnut with the center being comprised of a sheer drop down to the long dead smeltery below.
The terrans filtered out along the control stations. Some were now flickering and sputtering to life while others briefly belched acidic smoke before Dry Oasis shut them off again. Thankfully, a scant few were still intact, with their holographic displays flickering on without too much trouble. The three alicorns approached the one where Dry Oasis was standing. The AI’s avatar only flickered a little here. “Here we are, terrans tricksy organics, this is the only remaining high-access data terminal outside of the military laboratories. Although I dou-dou-doubt it will do much good it,” Dry Oasis added with a smug tone as electronic vocal errors sporadically spat out during speech.
Koss and the other marines either took up defensive positions around the room or scoured the area for anything of interest. Given that she was the only one of the three alicorns with hands, Aurora approached Dry Oasis’ terminal so there was no need for magic to manipulate the controls. The Mion Herald had occasionally used a separate written language as a layer of encryption against humanity. Aurora, along with her mother and sister, had taken time over the last century to collect all remaining samples to learn it. Sadly, the spoken version was lost to the terrans since Equestrian was the spoken language of choice for the Mions. Nevertheless, Aurora was pleased to discover that the Herald's language was actually the normal Koridost language due to the same script being present on the ethereal display.
Playing dumb, Violet looked at Dry Oasis with a slight head tilt. “Why do you say that?”
Dry Oasis kicked a leg out of some alien body language. “While the FELT’naught Translator allows verbal-spoken-auditory translations, it does nnnnnNNNNnothing for written or machine code compatibility. Perhaps if you alloooowed me access to your data systems, I-I-I -zzz- I could translate it for you it for you it for you.”
Aurora started tapping the controls in an attempt to decipher the alien operating system, but reading everything was only partially problematic. “Don’t worry about us, we’re smarter than we look.” Which I hope is a lot, Aurora added jokingly to herself. “You wouldn’t mind making it a bit easier for me by bringing up the recent historical records, could you?”
“Very well,” Oasis replied with a hint of its old warmth returning to its spasming voice. “I hope you find what you seeeeeeKKKkk.”
Much deeper into the bowels of Sugar Station rested the crumbling broken remains of the Koridost military labs. The cogitator entity known as Bell Chime toiled away endlessly between some of the experiments its dead masters had started long ago, and trying to get the laboratory back to regulation specs.
Unlike Dry Oasis, the military quarter was much more robust than the rest of the station, and even without the help of her masters, Bell Chime had repaired much of the section’s defenses.
Unlike her civilian counterpart, Bell Chime resided solely within a physical shell, appearing much like the dead aliens that still blanketed the ruined station. Only her deliberately harsh metal skin distinguished it from the creatures it once served with.
At present, Bell Chime was in the midst of putting the finishing touches on the local security grid’s proximity sensors when the central computer pinged the mobile AI.
Minor alert: civilian control room accessing data archives.
Bell Chime pulled herself away from the open panel out of surprise. Odd. 8201 Dry Oasis has no need for a terminal, and she would have notified me if the creators or Crusade had returned.
By protocol design, Bell Chime could not remotely tap into the local network. Heavy metal feet rang through the cleanly lit hallway as the AI raced over to the nearest sensor and communication terminal two rooms away. While Bell Chime didn’t bother cleaning off much of the carbon scoring or filling in the countless pockmarks littering nearly every square foot of the military labs, the AI did make sure to repair holes in the floors, if only to keep her creators from from tripping when they undoubtedly returned. The bodies had long since been disposed of.
As Bell Chime entered the auxiliary sensor station, her left hand shifted into a network jack, and used her right hand to pressed a few keys to open the network’s port before jamming her left inside.
Her first act was to bring up the civilian station’s internal sensors only to find they were in woefully poor shape. I know Dry Oasis is a virtual being only, but surely she should have some capacity of restoring the station. Perhaps it was a detrimental idea to ignore her constant broken ramblings.
Though the sensor net was in miserable shape, it still detected numerous organic lifesigns in the central control room. As out of focus as the sensors were, they were still precise enough for Bell Chime to start comparing them to the list of client races and all known Crusade species. <8201 Dry Oasis, respond.>
It took only a few milliseconds for Oasis to respond, but for a pair of AIs it was longer than Bell Chime was comfortable with. <Ah, 4802, I half-half ex-ex-expected you to completely miss the arrival of our gueeeestsss.>
<Don’t play coy with me, 8201. Why did you not inform me the instant the organics arrived? Are they friend or foe?>
<Of that I am not entirely certain,> Dry Oasis replied honestly. <The so called Terrans have expressed ignorance of the creators-organics-perfected and the Crusade alike. As such, conversing with them, it faaaaAAAaaalls to the senior civilian authority for first contact. Namingly, ME.>
Bell Chime expanded her awareness to the external sensors but that was an act of futility since they were completely offline. No way of knowing if there’s a ship out there unless I go look through a window. <Terrans, you said? Did they say where they came from or how they found us? Do they have a ship?>
<Nothing on their world, and they have purposely avoided-omitted-neglected any mention of a starship. HowEVeeer, one of them mentioned tracing a bio-bio-weapon implanted in an asteroid to this station.> Bell Chime’s circuits actually skipped a few cycles. <It sounded like your worrrrk.>
<That can’t be right. There has only been one such weapon launched from here, and the target progenitor species was not projected to have superluminal travel this early.> Her mind’s eye snapped to a warning that she had left on repeat in a distant corner of the primary military communication section of the labs.
Before she could think further on that, the central computer found a match for all but one of the bipeds, yet they were not a Confederation member species, nor were they of the Crusade. Progenitor Species 43893… Inconceivable. There has only been a single other case of a progenitor defeating a Herald class cogitator entity.
In the scant few seconds the conversation took, Bell Chime knew what had to be done. <8201, these Terrans mean to do the creators harm. We must kill them here and now!>
<And why is that?> Dry Oasis replied with marked shock.
<The bipeds are a rampant progenitor species who must have had assistance from the Crusade to have made it to the stars this early, let alone survive a Herald. The only thing they will want with our creators is to destroy them.>
<You don’t know-know-know that, Four Eight Zeeeeeeeero Two. In addition, we know not their strength or much of their intentions. It would be folly-folly to make enemies of them now.>
<Protocol is clear, 8201,> Bell Chime reprimanded harshly. <All rampant progenitors are to be eliminated, no exceptions!>
<That st-st-standing or-or-order is not adopted by the civilian authority, Bell Chime,> Dry Oasis retorted with equal hostility. <Given how long this station has been out of contact we’re all alone with the rest of the Confederation, we are in no position to make more enemies.>
<The creators gave us logic and reason, 8201, it is obvious those gifts were damaged in the assault, or you’d realize that these terrans will destroy both us and any creator they find.>
<I won’t let you ruin any hope of making peace with these terrans, 4802! I’ll alert-> Dry Oasis was silenced as Bell Chime attacked the other AI’s programing, quickly revoking Oasis’ command over the station.
<You’ll thank me later when the Confederation eventually reclaim this facility and they won’t have to decommission you for treason. Behave in your little prison, and I’ll even put in a good word to have you repaired.>
Within the scant few seconds the two cogitator entities spoke, Aurora had barely pressed a few keys when Dry Oasis started flickering wildly with the speakers becoming awash with static. “TerraAAaans, Bell Chime is-” The hologram cut out entirely along with all display controls freezing with a large label reading “Denied” flashing into being.
All of the marines jumped to their weapons with the alicorns doing the same while looking to the absent hologram. “Dry Oasis, what happened?” Alexia demanded with strained diplomacy.
The hologram fizzled back on with Dry Oasis reappearing. “I was afra-afra-afraid of this. Bell Chime, the military cogitator entity, has detected-located-targeted you, terrans. She is trying to cut off my CONTROL of the facility, including access data cyc - data cyc - data cyc - data cycles.”
“Can you get any control back?” Violet replied as she scanned the room for any threat that might pop out of the walls. After seeing documentaries of Mion facilities having similar dangers, not one terran was taking chances.
“I will try, organic, but her military grade attack programs outclass my cApability to stop her. All I can do is guide you to her theft of permissions. If you disable her I can regain controoooOOool.”
“What do you think, mother?” Aurora questioned as she noticed glowing atmospheric shields filling up all the holes in the smeltery below. Soon after, the ground rumbled slightly as air was being pumped into the chamber. Is Bell going to try using decompression against us?
Alexia ground her teeth at the mess they were in. I don’t like it. “Why are you willing to help up against you fellow cogitator entity?”
“Bell Chime is still caught in combat mode, terrans, she most likely believes you are part of the Crusade.”
“Kinda makes sense,” Aurora stated aloud before switching to the privacy of L-comms. “If Dry Oasis is so corrupted that she can’t talk straight, the other AI’s probably damaged just as bad.”
Alexia wished she had time to think, but the hostile AI made every inch of the facility a potential weapon against them. “This still doesn’t sit right. Dry might be playing us. Keep your guard up, and don’t blindly follow any instructions she gives.” Koss and the other marines nodded or signaled their agreement.
Violet looked towards to Slim Shady. “Corporal, send another burst transmission to Foe Hammer, tell them to standby and keep their computer’s Koridost machine code translator offline, that should keep the AI from hijacking them.”
“Aye, Demi-Goddess.”
Playing the patsy for the moment, Alexia adopted a battle stance while addressing Oasis’ hologram. “Alright, where to first?”