Sigma
Enigmatik
Timemaster
abnormallory
Gerlando
Scrawl Banditta
Snowdrops
Savant James Heralds has many skills: engineering, politicking, holographic simulation creation, and most importantly, manipulating. He believes that last one is the most valuable ability a person can have. Delivered at the right time, given the right weight and wording, there is nothing more powerful than a lie.
But even that doesn't protect you from a club to the face.
Heralds only barely jumps out of its reach, but as soon as he has, the twisted protector's mace is swinging around faster than any real weapon should. It clips him hard on the chin- bleeding, bruising- then comes down on his head again in the same second. The only thing the Savant, genius leader of the ECU, can think to do is drop down and shield his face with his hands. He only gets blunted in the stomach instead.
Fighting is not one of the skills of Savant James Heralds.
He looks up in time to see his smiling assailant raise the club one more time, lifting it high enough to block out the sun, to hide the light, to murder a Savant, and- and- and then it pauses in mid-swing.
Heralds frowns, feeling a little disappointed.
When it stays stuck, still halfway through its murderous arc, he at last stands up to take a look. He meanders around his frozen murderer, examining the pose, prodding him a little bit. Thinking that wasn't supposed to happen.
Then, just as it paused, the hologram suddenly finishes his swing, bringing down the club at empty ground. Three times as fast and twice as hard as he's meant to. That's not supposed to happen, either. Clearly, this still needs a lot of work.
"Holographic Protector," Heralds commands, "Deactivate." The holo-protector stops existing, and the blood running down Heralds mouth follows its example. There is a lingering soreness, though: it really had hit him. It could really do that.
The holo-protectors are a personal project, a work-in-progress, and as per recent events, the best chance for the ECU's survival. The transmission from Student Adami's shuttle, detailing her experiences with a race of cybernetic former-humans, has prompted the Savant to pick it up again. Until today, the files had been sitting in his private database, untouched for eight months. Now they seem to be taking up residence in his mind.
How does it fight outside of Holographic Suites? How will it interact with electromagnetism? Can it communicate with others? Is there a way to make it stop smiling?
That is one thing. In every available program, the protectors are portrayed as benevolent, kind defenders. Friendly neighborhood heroes, who always smile at the viewer. It was only when he finally finished the first holo-protector program that Heralds realized this meant they would always smile at their victims, too.
Maybe it'll frighten people. That's worth something.
It's been hours since Abadi sent out the message. She told them all about her contact with the Zetans, and the Undefeated, and the mess of an argument that followed. She's received back three responses, each from a different Oligarch, with four different sets of instructions on what to do next.
None of it is helpful. She already knows one thing: her future is over. No matter what she does after this, no matter what instructions they send her or which ones she follows, her future is dead before it begins.
She was supposed to be initiated into the Oligarch formaly in six months. This scouting mission to Earth was only something to add to her Justification, to show the Noocratic Judges: look, I'm smart enough to be an Oligarch!
Well, not that it matters. Abadi is aware, like everyone in-the-know, that the Noocracy doesn't pick by merit anymore. That's just something they tell everyday people so they'll do what they're told. It wasn't always like that, some say. There was once a time where potential Oligarchs needed to have a host of discoveries to their name, or more importantly, a mind of elephantine proportions. There were dozens of tests to make sure you were smart enough to rule.
But all that's gone. Today, holographic indoctrination keeps the populace controlled, and the protectors violently solve any problem-causers. The Justification is a formality, for appearances. Abadi has never heard of a person who actually failed theirs.
Which means, wow, she'll be the first. That's something.
Because there's no way they'll let her in now. She'll need to be an example, she knows it. "This is what happens when you make a bunch of advanced cyborgs mad at us." Will she be a Student forever?
Will they kill her?
There's another vessel in orbit here. The Zetans are already talking to them, probably telling them how bad the ECU is. On another day, she would have tried contacting them next, making things right and... but she just can't now. Not with the noose hanging over her head. She already replied to the Revenant, telling them she'd let her superiors know the Undefeated desire a meeting, throwing in a bunch of nice diplomatic talk, and the girl decides that's all she can do right now.
She sends the massive ship a short little message. Something about hoping to meet someday, remembering the virtues of Earth, whatever. And then she drifts back through the Gateway.
"Hail! I greet you on behalf of the Earth Cultural Union, a league of mankind dedicated to preserving the ways and forms of Old Earth."
That's the message they sent, anyway. The arranged Diplomatic Greeting the ECU had determined to use for all new contacts. And they intended to mean it.
Only- they were a little concerned this time. There was already talk of war and alliances and exterminating the horrific cyborg menace, of course. And in fact, the ECU was already demolishing old Bezian ruins and using the metals to construct new, military ships as fast as they possibly could. And they were planning a propaganda campaign, new military tactics- the whole deal. But all of that might get just a little bit stickier if an already powerful Colony were to appear. One that had the weapons and ships, today, that could decide the entire war effort before the ECU completed a single corvette.
And wouldn't you know...
They hailed the militarized ship again. Same message. Same secret fear behind it.
But even that doesn't protect you from a club to the face.
Heralds only barely jumps out of its reach, but as soon as he has, the twisted protector's mace is swinging around faster than any real weapon should. It clips him hard on the chin- bleeding, bruising- then comes down on his head again in the same second. The only thing the Savant, genius leader of the ECU, can think to do is drop down and shield his face with his hands. He only gets blunted in the stomach instead.
Fighting is not one of the skills of Savant James Heralds.
He looks up in time to see his smiling assailant raise the club one more time, lifting it high enough to block out the sun, to hide the light, to murder a Savant, and- and- and then it pauses in mid-swing.
Heralds frowns, feeling a little disappointed.
When it stays stuck, still halfway through its murderous arc, he at last stands up to take a look. He meanders around his frozen murderer, examining the pose, prodding him a little bit. Thinking that wasn't supposed to happen.
Then, just as it paused, the hologram suddenly finishes his swing, bringing down the club at empty ground. Three times as fast and twice as hard as he's meant to. That's not supposed to happen, either. Clearly, this still needs a lot of work.
"Holographic Protector," Heralds commands, "Deactivate." The holo-protector stops existing, and the blood running down Heralds mouth follows its example. There is a lingering soreness, though: it really had hit him. It could really do that.
The holo-protectors are a personal project, a work-in-progress, and as per recent events, the best chance for the ECU's survival. The transmission from Student Adami's shuttle, detailing her experiences with a race of cybernetic former-humans, has prompted the Savant to pick it up again. Until today, the files had been sitting in his private database, untouched for eight months. Now they seem to be taking up residence in his mind.
How does it fight outside of Holographic Suites? How will it interact with electromagnetism? Can it communicate with others? Is there a way to make it stop smiling?
That is one thing. In every available program, the protectors are portrayed as benevolent, kind defenders. Friendly neighborhood heroes, who always smile at the viewer. It was only when he finally finished the first holo-protector program that Heralds realized this meant they would always smile at their victims, too.
Maybe it'll frighten people. That's worth something.
~~~~~~~~
It's been hours since Abadi sent out the message. She told them all about her contact with the Zetans, and the Undefeated, and the mess of an argument that followed. She's received back three responses, each from a different Oligarch, with four different sets of instructions on what to do next.
None of it is helpful. She already knows one thing: her future is over. No matter what she does after this, no matter what instructions they send her or which ones she follows, her future is dead before it begins.
She was supposed to be initiated into the Oligarch formaly in six months. This scouting mission to Earth was only something to add to her Justification, to show the Noocratic Judges: look, I'm smart enough to be an Oligarch!
Well, not that it matters. Abadi is aware, like everyone in-the-know, that the Noocracy doesn't pick by merit anymore. That's just something they tell everyday people so they'll do what they're told. It wasn't always like that, some say. There was once a time where potential Oligarchs needed to have a host of discoveries to their name, or more importantly, a mind of elephantine proportions. There were dozens of tests to make sure you were smart enough to rule.
But all that's gone. Today, holographic indoctrination keeps the populace controlled, and the protectors violently solve any problem-causers. The Justification is a formality, for appearances. Abadi has never heard of a person who actually failed theirs.
Which means, wow, she'll be the first. That's something.
Because there's no way they'll let her in now. She'll need to be an example, she knows it. "This is what happens when you make a bunch of advanced cyborgs mad at us." Will she be a Student forever?
Will they kill her?
There's another vessel in orbit here. The Zetans are already talking to them, probably telling them how bad the ECU is. On another day, she would have tried contacting them next, making things right and... but she just can't now. Not with the noose hanging over her head. She already replied to the Revenant, telling them she'd let her superiors know the Undefeated desire a meeting, throwing in a bunch of nice diplomatic talk, and the girl decides that's all she can do right now.
She sends the massive ship a short little message. Something about hoping to meet someday, remembering the virtues of Earth, whatever. And then she drifts back through the Gateway.
~~~~~~~~
(Addressing: @Sigma)
"Hail! I greet you on behalf of the Earth Cultural Union, a league of mankind dedicated to preserving the ways and forms of Old Earth."
That's the message they sent, anyway. The arranged Diplomatic Greeting the ECU had determined to use for all new contacts. And they intended to mean it.
Only- they were a little concerned this time. There was already talk of war and alliances and exterminating the horrific cyborg menace, of course. And in fact, the ECU was already demolishing old Bezian ruins and using the metals to construct new, military ships as fast as they possibly could. And they were planning a propaganda campaign, new military tactics- the whole deal. But all of that might get just a little bit stickier if an already powerful Colony were to appear. One that had the weapons and ships, today, that could decide the entire war effort before the ECU completed a single corvette.
And wouldn't you know...
They hailed the militarized ship again. Same message. Same secret fear behind it.
