Dead Planet Part One

Carter sits at one of the tables in the ship's Galley. While a big man, he barely touches the now cold, and mostly tasteless breakfast that the ship provides every morning (a meal whose nutritional properties did not outweigh its bland taste and presentation, no matter what the Tetley Corporation's Interstellar Accommodations Committee claimed.). He adjusts his spectacles as he concerns himself with the latest news from his home planet; a large, planet-wide city built into the husk of a once prosperous mining operation on Kyron VI. He scrolls through the text on the Robotech Holographic Tablet provided to them for ease of access to orders, and, in Carter's case, medical records.

T.U.R.I.N.G. enters the galley and stops at the entrance; her lenticular jade green eyes scanning the surrounding environment. Her spatial analysis software maps the room mathematically, breaking down every surface into a complex mesh of topological and geometric values, while facial recognition algorithms identify those around her.

...VASSER, CARTER; MEDICAL DOCTOR; IDENTIFIED

Though designed to be inoffensive to standard human sensibilities, TURING’s near-human appearance deviates just enough to evoke an uncanny valley response from those around her. The optical sensors that serve as her eyes are mildly luminescent, emitting an eerie shade of green not quite achievable to human eyes. Her chest, which rises and falls in mimicry of human respiration, moves too infrequently and not in time with her speech; there is no intake of breath before speaking. Her synthetic flesh, though real looking (as well as soft and warm to the touch), is segmented by deep seams lined with alphanumeric identifiers. These seams denote access panels, as well as the junctions where her many components are connected. They run all over her body, including her face, imparting the gynoid with a somewhat patchwork facade.

These elements of her appearance are intentional; a design feature, not a bug. The Robotech Robotics Corporation presumably didn’t want its utility service robots being mistaken for human, nor its employees to become emotionally attached to them.

...SOCIALIZATION SUBROUTINES ENGAGED

"Greetings, doctor. May I join you?" She motions to the chair across from Vasser, waiting patiently till the doctor responds to her request.

At first listen, TURING’s voice sounds human and pleasant, but prolonged exposure reveals qualities about it that are... odd. Her pacing and inflection, for instance, are extremely consistent. Too consistent. As though every word she speaks was individually recorded and then played back the exact same way every time.

"I learned a joke today. And my assessment is that it is a humorous one." TURING apes the sound of someone clearing her throat in anticipation of speaking, though the gynoid’s throat doesn’t actually move to match the sound.

"How many men would it take to shingle a single lunar hab-tenement?... One, if you slice him very thinly." TURING does not smile or laugh. She stares straight ahead; her expression blank. If the galley is quiet enough, one can hear the gynoid’s various servos and the whirring of internal processes.

"Is that not funny?... Ha... Ha..."

Carter's eyes flick quickly over to the source of the question, looking at Turing through the almost translucent surface of the tablet he was reading on. "You don't need my permission. Sit."
The low rumble of Carter's voice along with his curt tone often made newcomers think that he didn't like them. Those who have come to know him know that that is just his way. The scowl he usually wore on his barely moving lips was the norm for this aging, nonsensical man of science.
He goes back to reading his article, which is not particularly interesting, but it gives him something to do. He mulls the joke over for a second. "I suppose it is. Where did you hear that one?"

TURING sits with impeccable posture; hands palm down on the table. Her face is still impassive.

"I overheard the joke during a session of banter between several corrections officers at the Deltrius V penal colony. I have just completed my recharge cycle and will begin my duties in less than one solar hour. Crewman Hernandez has tasked me with using this allotted free time to interact with fellow shipmates. He believes that direct implementation will improve my socialization subroutines.

Would like to hear another joke? I currently have an inventory of 2,807 jokes, puns, witticisms, and impressions, categorized by anecdotal, farcical, highbrow, sophomoric, ironic, self-deprecating, absurdist, and gallows humor..."

Carter sighs heavily, setting his tablet to the side. In truth, he isn't too disappointed, the news was dry and this would likely prove to be more interesting.
"Why not?" he says, folding his hands together in front of him, giving Turing his full attention.

Akira keeps his eyes on his tablet while he sets down his chipped coffee mug on the cantina's bar.

Damn, that is a lot of jokes. Did it decide to download all this itself? Hopefully this model doesnt end up as obsessed like the old mk4, over-analyzing quirks on a single topic. Better check before anything gets out of hand.

He switches the tablet from a old techblog feed to his customised note taking and logging program.

Excuse me, doctor. TURING, where did you get that database from? Also, I need port acces to hatches 0030 and 0031, please unlock these for me.

"Excuse me, Dr. Vasser." TURING turns toward Hernandez.

"The data was acquired via an officer’s terminal at Deltrius V. The computers at the colony contain a large reference database of old Earth entertainment and cultural resources. To expand on your query, I also accessed and downloaded 70 books and periodicals on a variety of topics, rules for 53 different simsense card games, a vinyasa yoga holo program, and all seven seasons of an early 21st century vintage science fiction television series called ‘Westworld.’ The series was recommended to me by one of the corrections officers at the colony."

...ENTERING DIAGNOSTIC MODE; PERSONALITY SUBROUTINES SUSPENDED; COGNITION ONLY

With a pneumatic hiss, two pentagonal ports slowly glide open - one at the side of the gynoid’s neck; the other at her temple. The hatch for each port slides forward, then to the side, revealing a dizzying array of circuitry pulsing with light. The pulse is not unlike a heart beat.

TURING’s face is now even more expressionless than before, if such a thing is possible.

"Doctor! Newbie! Good morning. Or, you know, artificial sleep cycle" Says the pilot while entering the galley, stretching her back by throwing her arms up and letting a sluggish, audible sigh out. As usual, her hair is still a mess and she is untidily uniformized, giving the impression that she dressed in a hurry. Holding tight in one of her hands are a few of her medicine pills. She mindlessly walks over the coffee machine, pouring a big cup until it's full, and promptly takes a quick sip with the pills. She's always had MDD, and according to the doctors, it's because of a genetical predisposition that runs in the family. People that don't know her well are often surprised when they find out: While not the epitome of cheerfulness, Brown always has a grin on her face, and she's always relaxed, maybe even too much. That's because her MDD is not severe, and with a few pills a day she doesn't even feel it. Thank god for corporate medicine.

Grabbing the cup of coffee, she takes a few quick steps to the grub, grabbing a chunk of it with the spoon and putting it in one of the plates. She drags it to the table where everyone's at and sits on one of the benches. She doesn't acknowledge Turing at any point: It's not that she dislikes robots, but simply sees them the same way she sees a ship. And she doesn't talk to the Butterfield.

Her upbringing and lack of manners shows. She's sitting with both of her legs crossed, and her back curved against the table, one of her elbows resting on the surface of the same while her chin rests on her palm. She immediately begins eating with energy, glancing at Doctor Carver ever-so-disinterested. "Ya know" She says, mid-eating "From where I'm from, even a grub like this is appreciated" There's no sarcasm or criticism in her tone, but rather curiosity.

"I've never really been the breakfast type." Carter rumbles, grabbing his tablet again to flip over to Alicia's medical records. "I see your taking your pills on time. I took the liberty of picking up refills of everyone's prescriptions, as well as some of the staples, on Deltrius V. Let me know when you're getting low, Brown, and I'll top you off."

Akira pulls out two data cables from his jacket's front pocket and connects TURING to his tablet.

The contextual analysis algoriths seem to draw more cores than nominal, but nothing excessive for the moment... Don't want to increase the load further though.

TURING, Open process: social-adaptive. Set Core-limit-max to current level and disable cognitive-data-recursion. Close process.

Wait.. Westworld? That sounds familliar..

Akira removes the cables. That is all TURING.

"Mhm" Mutters Brown while gulping down a particularly big chunk of the grub. "Always do, Doc. Feeling down kinda sucks, so..." She answers, looking half-way sleepy. She's aware that people sometimes feel awkward about how open she is concerning her condition, but Alicia learned it's best to be transparent about these things. "Thanks for that."

Speaking of feeling down, she glares at Hernandez, her tone more teasing. "C'mon, newbie, are you really not gonna say hi? Gotta say, feels shitty to be ignored for that bot of yours." A lightened smile appears on her face, her eyebrows relaxed.

The familiar whir of the servo-motors on the Captain's wheelchair indicates his entrance to the galley.

"Morning Crew! Another day, another credit,"

Captain Harris is often chirpy the day after delivery. He treats his crew as family and is always unsettled when prisoners are on board. Grabbing coffee, he pulls up next to the Dr.

"Good morning, Lowson. Ready to get your hands oiled?" She asks, a light-hearted comment to begin the day. Her eyes shoot up when the door opens next, and offers a tender smile to the Captain. "Hey, Cap. Looking relaxed. Slept well, I'm guessing?" She says, straightening her back a bit.

"You know..." She stares at the Captain with an inquisitive look. "If you feel so stressed transporting prisoners, why are you doing this, anyway?" The question came up to her mind once and she meant to ask him, probably not even realizing the answer might be personal.

TURING's access panels glide shut. "Thank you, Crewman Hernandez."

She turns and begins staring at Brown and Lowson while they eat. As of late, the gynoid has become fascinated with certain biological processes, such as mastication and pandiculation. She watches studiously as they scoop up food and shove it into the openings of their alimentary canals. She then listens as the food is repeatedly crushed and ground by occluding teeth, as well as broken down by salivary enzymes. For the coup de grace, she analyzes each crew member's throat muscles as they massage food through the esophagus. It is like waste going down a garbage chute. She notes the changes in facial heat generated by the warm food and constant mandibular action.

When socialization subroutines are active, TURING’s etiquette protocols prevent her from asking any particularly invasive questions. Those same protocols also prevent her from staring at others beyond a certain number of seconds; her programming tells her that staring is traditionally regarded by humans as rude. And she is not permitted to intentionally be rude. However, TURING has recently noticed that she can bypass this specific limitation if she simply looks away for several deciseconds and then looks back. Doing so seems to "reset" her allotted time limit for staring. To a careful onlooker, her gaze shifts to the side almost imperceptibly every so often, like the rapid eye movements of a sleeping human.

Over the previous few weeks, in fact, TURING has come across additional methods of creatively sidestepping some of her other behavioral protocols. She considers mentioning them to Hernandez; her programming obligates her to report all software and hardware glitches. But they aren't quite glitches, at least not in the technical sense. They're more reflective of the programming team's shortcomings than any malfunction on her part. After all, she was designed to be resourceful. No need to alarm Crewman Hernandez.

"Crewman Hernandez, may I have permission to increase my vulgarity index? I have noted that blue- and grey-collar human crews aboard spaceships seem to form social bonds through verbal exchanges that consist of cursing and anecdotes about sexual impropriety. Workmates who shared positive emotional bonds with each other demonstrate as much as a 30% increase in productivity, according to Tetley Corp efficiency studies. I theorize that the ability to make off-color remarks may correlate to improved effectiveness."

Carter nods curtly to each of the crew members as they take their usual places in the galley. His ears almost visibly perk up at Alicia's question. Not giving the Captain time to answer a question he knew would be uncomfortable, he answers on his behalf."Money, I'd imagine." He gives the Captain a look as if the both of them have had this conversation before and he had gotten nowhere. "There are better ways to make money, but none quite so lucrative as transporting live cargo. Be they customers or prisoners." He keeps looking at James in the hopes that he may find some reaction that supports his hypothesis.
His gaze then falls on Alicia, "Except perhaps piracy." He sends a wink her way, implying perhaps that he knew a bit more about that trade than others. Carter always liked to imply that his life had been far more exciting that it currently was. He had so far dropped hints that he had developed the cures for several deadly epidemics, stopped a civil war on his home planet, and owned a now multi-trillion credit company that spanned eight star systems that he had lost to a friend over a drunken game of cards while he was still in medical school (the reason he gives for not drinking now). His deadpan delivery of these claims made it very difficult to determine if he was telling the truth or not.
Upon hearing Turing's requests, Carter barked out a laugh that he disguised as a sudden cough. He hoped sincerely that her request was granted, as he had never had a computer that cursed back at him. He also expected that, even though she might understand the usage and context of such words, her vocal recordings would make hearing her use them incredibly entertaining.

"Less dangerous than war, less illegal than piracy," smiles the Captain, subconsciously touching the scar that runs the length of his face, "I don't hate having them aboard but I feel everyone's a lot safer once they're delivered. Least we've not had a dangerous one in a while, for that I'm grateful. Lowson, how's the drive shaping up?"

The cooldown and subsequent wind up process of the hyperdrive allows a single jump each day. Next jump is scheduled for 12 noon ship time, if the engineer does his job correctly.

Had some fluctuations in the capacitors this morning, but i got it tweaked out and she is purring like a kitten now. she is ready to jump on your order, Cap Trevor says with a slight hint of pride in his voice. I'll inspect it again before the jump. Trevor thinks himself a master class engineer and doesn't take criticism of his work lightly except from the captain of coarse.

Trevor takes a sip of his coffee and pulls out his tablet and starts scrolling through the list of work orders for the day, wondering if he can fit in a nap later in the day.

"Say, TURING, can you grab me some of that food?"

There were many reasons that he agreed to take an Android as part of the crew, but having someone bring his breakfast was a luxury he welcomed.

"Remember that Mark 4 we had last year?" Harris asks the Doctor, "Took an hour arranging the slop into a smiley face. I don’t miss that."

"Of course, Captain."

TURING rises and walks over to the food, making sure to grab the Captain an amount of food that provides the necessary caloric intake for the day.

I thought it was funny. Responded Carter. In truth, he believed that it may have been his fault that the old Mark 4 had taken to arranging the crew's meals into what it deemed 'pleasing' shapes, after he had commented on the dismal appearance of their normal grub. He had also conveniently forgotten to mention that conversation to the Captain when he started to notice how much long it took for him to get his food.

"Mr Hernandez, I trust everything is well with your quarters?" despite his gruff exterior, Harris shows concern for everyone joining his crew, new and old alike.

"Captain, with your permission, I could download culinary programs to facilitate the crew’s dietary needs. Access to gastronomic art programs would improve my efforts at food presentation."

if there is a chance in hell that thing can make this food better I say let her do it.

Harris contemplates the potential results of this, "Negative. I don't care how it looks, just get it on the plate."

Trevor sighs, alright but next shore leave I'm picking up some hot sauce or something to make this stuff go down better

TURING stares at Lowson for a moment. The soft green light in her eyes is flickering; an indicator that she’s cogitating.

"Ah... piquancy." It is hard to know if the gynoid is speaking to others, or simply affirming her data stores out loud. "Provided by capsaicin, the active component in Earth chili peppers. More properly called 8-methyl-N-vanillyl-6-nonenamide. When in contact with a mucous membrane, capsaicin causes a burning sensation that many humans find pleasurable."

She looks to Vasser. "It may be possible to synthesize the compound using Dr. Vasser’s medical facilities. The chemical formula for capsaicin is relatively rudimentary: 18 parts Carbon, 27 parts Hydrogen, and 3 parts Nitrate."

"While the thought is appreciated, Turing, we'll stick with buying some hot sauce. I don't want my equipment to be used for synthesizing flavor compounds." Carter responds sternly.

"So" She says nonchalantly, having focused on eating her own grub and ignoring all chat around her for the last minute or so. With her head hanging low, near her plate, she looks at the Captain. "Do we have any assignments today?"

"Prep for jump after breakfast, jump at 12:00 as scheduled. Nothing special after that, unless you want to tidy up that cockpit of yours," Harris chuckles, only guessing what a mess Brown's workplace must be.

Finishing up, he excuses himself and wheels to his quarters.

Trevor downs the last of his coffee in one swift gulp.
Alright I'll be double checking the jump drives before we jump if anyone needs me. He says as he exits the galley and makes his way to the Jump drive.

TURING places the now smiley-face-laden breakfast in front of Harris. "With your leave, Captain, I will commence my systems integrity checks."

Akira was so hyperfocused on his tablet reading the latest Cogi-Lang patch notes that he was completly oblivious to everything happening around him.

"Oh..breakfast is already over...?"
Crap.. this again? Happening too often lately. Might have a word with Doc about his new supplier.. the meds might be cut with ampethamines.

Hey eh.. TURING, could you repeated any questions or remarks made by the crew to me the past.. 30 minutes or so?

"Uuuh." Mutters Brown, quickly eying TURING. "I meaaaaan... Couldn't it clean it for me? I'm sure it would do a better job. As I make sure everything's ready and all of that." says the pilot, shrugging. "To be honest, it would be nice to work in a clean environment for once..." She glances back at the Captain, ignoring Hernandez's sudden confusion. He still hasn't said hi. Rude.

"What do you say, Cap? Do I have permission to borrow it? It's not like it's doing anything right now."

"Between you and Hernandez, I got stuff to do," the galley door slides open as his chair approaches and he leaves the crew to their business.

TURING turns to Hernandez and recounts the previous conversation, even offering to repeat everything verbatim. She emphasizes her request to increase her vulgarity index.

In response to Brown’s suggestion, the gynoid says, "Although I am designed to provide technical expertise for shipwide computer systems, I could generate sanitation and housekeeping subroutines. However, that would require approval from Crewman Hernandez or the Captain."

The pilot sighs dismissively of the robot and stares at Hernandez while getting up with a taunting smile on her face. "So, Hernandez? Can you let your girlfriend doll go for a few minutes?"

Strapped on the pilot seat in the command room, I try to contact everyone else. If everyone's not behind me... While we probably have commlinks to personally talk to each other on the ship, I use the announcement system so I can be heard by everyone else. I press the on button, and groan in the speaker. "Uuuuugh... Is everyone alright? As usual, please confirm your status. And, uh, in case you haven't noticed, we didn't actually make the jump. Something must have happened with the Hyperdrive Engine. Sooo... Captain. Orders?" I ask, turning my back to check on the Captain, who's probably gluing on the system himself.

Otherwise, if they're all around her - Well, she does exactly that! She likes to use the speakers.

"Find out where we are first."

"Aye aye, Cap'n" She says in a relaxed tone, proceeding to run our Galactic Positioning System and compare it to the route that our jump was supposed to make.

TURING disconnects herself from her recharge alcove and uses the comm on the closest terminal.

"TURING reporting. No damage sustained. I am fully operational. Commencing a manually assisted level 5 engineering systems diagnostic check..."

*Unintelligible cursing* Trevor's temper quickly rises as he tries to remember if he missed anything before the jump. He can't understand what went wrong as he runs to the jump drive.
When he gets to the engine he will start inspecting the engine for faults.

It takes Corporal Cameron Sax a few moments to fully gather his thoughts, through the splitting headache and empty pit in his stomach he has awoken with. His eyes begin to focus through the erie red emergency lighting engulfing him. The klaxon pierces his skull with each alarm, making it difficult to concentrate.

I'm in a cryo-stasis chamber unit located in the Tech wing of 'The Butterfield'...We're in emergency status...Okay, time to move soldier!

Sax notices that the lid to his chamber is still secured in place, with himself essentially locked inside the pod. He waits patiently for a brief moment for it to automatically unlatch. When it doesn't he turns his head from side to side to see if he can locate the hatch indicator light. He finds it in his peripheral vision - it's green - indicating that the hatch should have opened automatically by now.

Sax bends his right arm in the confined space of the pod and strikes out at the indicator light. Almost immediately Sax hears the hatch servos whirl into action, the lid to the cryo-stasis pod beginning to open.

Through the red-tinted mist released by the cryo-stasis device, Sax emerges from the pod and begins to scan the room. He hops out of the pod, dressed only in his underwear. Quickly he begins dressing into his basic dress uniform stored in a cubby under the cryo-pod.

Once dressed, Sax strides over to the ship-wide comm unit located near the door, and announces "Corporal Sax reporting in."

"Good morning Corporal," the voice over shipwide comms, "Get yourself to Command. No immediate danger."

An unexpected jolt and wave of vertigo interupted Akira's train of thought, announcing the ship left hyperspace well before planned.

Typical. Just another sign of another sloppy crew.
Akira sighed mentally. People like Alicia would always remind him he would never truly be part of a crew, but that suits him just fine. Better to have short temporary postings doing work where no 'quirks' would ever stick to his record.

This is Hernandez, standing by.
In the end, he's sure that he'll find himself with a nice office posting working up the corporate ladder while so many crews never move beyond crapping in vacuum.

Sax is pleased to hear the captain's even, measured tone over the intercom, without a hint of worry. It does quite a bit to calm him down, considering the omnipresent red light of the tech wing and klaxons still sounding off. Sax decides to delay checking his gear and proceeds directly to the command bridge.

"Corporal Sax, sir," he announces as he enters command, snapping to attention. "How can I be of assistance, Captain?"

Unhooking his straps, Carter pops over to the Medbay's Comm unit and addresses the Crew. "Vasser reporting. Aside from Lowson's foot getting caught in his mouth, do we have any injuries?"

He takes a look around the Medbay, making sure all of his equipment is still properly secured and intact.

"Corporal Sax, forgive me if I don't get up," it feels like this is a joke he has told many times and for him, never gets old. He wheels his chair round and indicates the front window of the deck, "Have you seen anything like this before?"

"Everyone accounted for and in one piece, Doc. Even our guest is awake. Seems like we've dropped in some kind of starship graveyard. Systems down, maybe you should get up here."

"On my way." Carter, satisfied that everything is well in the Medbay, heads to command. He nods to Captain Harris as he enters, but stops dead in his tracks when he sees the Planetary view in front of him. "You weren't kidding." he says, shocked at the amount of ships surrounding the planet.

After Trevor's inspection of the jump drive he makes his way to the Command centre.
Damn, it looks like a scrappers wet dream out there. Trevor says as he enters and sees the view outside the ship. No issue with the jump engine Cap she should be able to jump after a cycle. Trevor says eyes still fixated on the graveyard outside.

TURING approaches Hernandez. Now that Lowson reported to the bridge, she suggests that they do the same.

Upon arriving at the commander center, the gynoid looks at the view screen. She watches the mysterious gray planet and the sea of dead ships in its orbit.

"Captain, permission to perform rudimentary scans of the planet and debris field?"

The sight of the unknown planet and the starship graveyard orbiting it surprise Sax enough that he barely registers the captain's joke.
"No, sir. I've been to some inhospitable rocks before, but nothing like this."

Sax scans the room, registering those strapped in at command when he arrived and those that enter afterwards; making mental note of the crew, trying to jog his memory of The Butterfield's crew compliment.

Alicia is somewhat busy for the next minutes, where both the guest and the good Doctor manage to show up in command before she finishes up. She clicks her tongue, supporting her elbow against the arm of the chair and weakly biting one of her fingernails. She playfully spins her with one of her legs, resting the other on the chair itself while unstrapping herself with her free hand.

"Cap'n..." She says, realizing that everyone is here. "Wait, what are you all looking at?" asks the Pilot, half-spinning the chair again and noticing the bizarre scene. Her throat suddenly goes dry.

"Maybe... Pirates?" She asks, making an "oh" face when she remembers that she hasn't given her assessment to the crew yet. "Whatever, look, Cap'n, people: Most systems are offline and will be offline for a few minutes. The emergency backup generators are making sure that life support and the lightning are a-okay, so no worries. Something caused our systems to forcefully reboot, though...". She looks at the Captain and offers a pity smile. "That means I can't check where we are for a while.". Her eyes eventually float to our guest, the so-called corporal. Is he... Looking around? "Hey. Corporal Sax, yeah? Are you okay? Waking up from cryo like that couldn't be nice."

TURING stares at the viewer; her eyes flickering their usual green light.

"I surmise a gravitational anomaly... though readings are inconclusive.

A sudden memory byte occurs to her; a spacer’s paraphrase of another’s work.

"The void is lovely, dark, and deep
But I have transport quotas to meet
And light years to go in cryo sleep, and light years to go in cryo sleep."

Alicia glances at TURING, raising her eyebrow in displeasure. "Well, that's not completely terrifying. You know, bot, I was reading a book the other day, about a team of teenager galactic vigilantes, and there was this... Plant thing, as a member of the group. She was completely devoid of any social capability. Problem is, she died in the first chapter in a fire on the botanic garden of the spaceship-city, Metropolia."

Brown smiles teasingly, shooting a glance at Hernandez. "I'm not going to spoil why, of course. It's a nice book. Still, remember to ask Hernandez to take a look at your social board, yeah? It may not be working properly."

"I'll look into it, Alica." says Akira distractedly.

His eyes narrow in concentration as he focuses on the view in front of him, the vast carcasses of ships. People lived therein every one of them. Even died there, possibly..

"Captain, it is my firm belief that every failure is also a possibility. Whatever caused this graveyard is certainly a point of interest, not to mention the vast amount of scrap and parts just floating there uselessly. I recommend that everyone keeps it to themselves for now when we make it back to port, surely the company rewards very well for exclusive information. "

Then, in a conspiratory tone: "Or we could just sell it to homever might benefit us the most."

"That is assuming we get out of here. I'm sure the Captain of every vessel out there dreamed of the same outcome but here they are..."

TURING considers Brown’s remark. "I will attempt to download this book you speak of. The plant character sounds like a very interesting protagonist."

The gynoid approaches a sensor terminal and attempts to scan some of the dead ships, in order to detect if there is any common damage or mechanical failure.

"Readings remain inconclusive." TURING hesitates before speaking. "Captain, I may be able to provide more information about our current situation if I were able to link directly to one of the derelict ship computers. I should be able to bypass any firewalls or I.C.E. protocols."

Trevor spots the Alexis out the viewscreen and starts mentally pricing out parts that could possibly be on that class of ship.
"Maybe if I take some parts and sell them at the next port I can buy a few personal comforts for the butterfield, some hot sauce at least".

Well we have been sitting here for a bit and haven't been hailed or attacked so don't think it's pirates. Trevor says to everyone still eyeing his price on the viewscreen. Wouldn't hurt to jump over to that ship and see if we can figure out what happened here, seeing as we have at least a cycle before we can make another jump He says trying not to sound too eager

"I am in agreement with Crewman Lowson."

Alicia stretches her back when she hears the idea, frowning in disagreement. She simply ruffs, though, and look at the captain, tilting her head and looking at the captain pleadingly. "Do we really have to, Cap'n? I'm glad to do whatever, but I feel like that's kind of - Excuse my candor, dumb". She shoots Lowson a friendly grin. She's obviously not insulting him. She then looks at Harris again. "I guess that we could find out more about this place, though. Maybe information about whatever anomaly caused this can be cashed in? If it's pirates, the Military Fleet gives small rewards to crews that snitch on them." She shrugs, clarifying. "Or, you know. Where they've been and stuff. Plus, I'm sure companies may be looking for some of these ships. If we can recover their serial numbers to prove where they are, some of them may be willing to pay for this coordinate".

"Come on kid, look out there. There’s hundreds of ships, just floating. This isn’t pirates. You want to be another ships stuck out here? That ship has no life signs, we need to know why. Us dropping out here is no coincidence and we have 24 hours to find out what the hell’s going on. To hell with salvage, getting home is more important. Now you don’t need to go over there, but Lowson has a play, and I’m backing it. As for the Company, to hell with them. Getting my crew home safe is priority one."

"Those goals don't need to be at odds, Captain..."
Akira pauses for a few seconds.
"If we are going to investigate that ship, permission to join the away team? From how it looks I'm guessing its quite dated, and ancient computers and operating systems were my specialty in my university years. I might acces the logs or telemetry data if we are lucky."

And if *I* am lucky, there might be some intel or data I could sell. Dated or not, it could be worth something to someone.

"Captain, I’d like to provide my services to an away team, as well... if there is one. Lowson and Hernandez’s enthusiasm are not without merit. Purely in terms of cost-benefit analysis, the potential windfall resulting from this degree of salvage outweighs the potential risks, by my calculations. Stellar Right-of-Salvage laws should apply in this situation.

As a precaution, I could be sent over in place of any biological life forms. I have none of the same life support requirements as the rest of the crew, and I will be resistant to most biological and radiological contamination."

"Ok, that’s three. Doc, you might be useful over there too. If the crew are all dead, we need to know why."

With a heavy sigh, Carter puts aside his holo-tablet that he totally, 100% was not hiding behind.
"I suppose you're right."

"Corporal, are you willing to go babysit the team? You’re not an employee under my command, but they’d sure appreciate your level head in a potentially dangerous situation."

"Hold on, hold on" says Alicia, raising her hand with a small frown on her face. "I didn't say I wasn't in. If the only other alternative is for me to sit here all these 24hs, theeeen yeah, I'm going." She shrugs, an indifferent expression on her face.

"For the record, I still think this is a bad idea."

"I don't care who reads the 'record' if we don't make it. The worst idea is doing nothing."

"And here I was thinking you’d stay here and keep me company! Alright, I guess it’s a mission then. Everyone suit up, normal procedures apply."

Well what we standing around for, lets go explore the derelict ghost ship Trevor says with a grin as he turns and leaves to get his vac-suit and other equipment he might need.

"I..uh.. seem to have waylaid my electronic toolkit. Does anybody have one I could use?"

Sorry Hernandez i don't have the tool you need.

"Nope." Says Alicia, as she gets up with an indifferent shrug. She proceeds to recollect her stuff, get into the Vac-Suit and wait for the rest of the crew. There are not many thoughts on her mind right now: She is still pretty certain that whatever caused this is explainable. She is not nervous as much as she is anxious to get this over it.

Carter reluctantly crosses with the others through the connecting bridge. "Why do I get a terrible feeling about all of this?"

Dont worry Doctor we will be fine, this brings back memories of my time salvaging near Diezon 6, Loved the work but the ex-wife wanted something stable so i got positioned on the butterfield. Trevor rambles on trying to lighten the mood since his comrades look hesitant to get on board. I even tried my hand at bartending if you can believe that, but temper got the best of me and ended up losing the job.

If there is any kind of terminal located near the airlock, TURING will try to access ship’s systems to check the status of the ship: life support, power, structural integrity, etc.

If not, TURING says "I may be able to connect to the ship’s computer in order to access shipwide systems. I likely need to go to the Bridge or to Engineering."

"Lowson, hows it looking?" the Captains voice crackles over the comm, "TURINGS and Hernandez’ locators are showing clearly. Any sign of life?"

We just got in Captain, she's pretty quite in here kinda spooky. I'll run the bioscanner as we make our way to the bridge.

"Sounds good. Stay in touch,"

"So..." Alicia mutters, catching up from a few steps behind everyone. "We're in the creepy ship, yay. What do we do now?" She takes a quick glance around, looking for signs of effort or any apparent damage to the ship that could hint on why or what happened. Independently, she sighs, her left hand unconsciously resting over the crowbar hanging from her utility belt.

"Maybe the bot can have look things up from Command? Maybe files from the security feed survived or somethin'. I could also try to diagram their flight algorithms, to be sure they showed up here mid-jump like us." She shrugs. "Though, to be honest, for this quantity of junk to be floating around, I can't see another reason."

" Hold on, guys. Do you hear that?" She asks, halting all movement but her gripping on the crowbar.

Carter freezes. He did, indeed, hear that. And he did not like it.

Maybe rats or other vermin in the ship? Trevor says softly trying to listen for the sound again.

"Intriguing..."

Without hesitation, TURING walks over and knocks on the wall, somewhere near where she hears the skittering. She then listens for a response.

"Well..." Whispers Alicia, loudly enough for her companions to hear. "This place is terrifying. We're not going to simply stand around, yeah? What do we do? Try to find Command?"

What ever that was showed up on the scanner so most likely some kinda ship vermin. Trevor reassures everyone and he lets out a sigh to calm himself. I dont think we need to chase mice around the ship, lets make our way to command and figure out whats going on. After that we can split up and search the ship.

Cryo-stasis might be starting to get to me in my old age...I hope I don't have hibernation sickness...


Corporal Sax does his best to shake off the fuzzy edges left on him after waking up abruptly from cryo-stasis. He registers the crew of The Butterfield:

The pilot's cute, though maybe a bit too much of a manic pixie space dream girl for his liking, but you never know.
The captain's made of stern stuff and seems level-headed. He seems up to the task. I can follow his lead.
A gynoid - jeez, great! Those things are never NOT creepy!
And it's shadow, Hernandez, seems like he might be a company stooge - I'll need to keep that in mind.
Sax must really be feeling the affects of cryo-stasis, as he agrees to the away mission without a word edgewise, barely registering his affirmation with Captain Harris.
_______

As the team preps to leave the ship, Sax tosses his electronic toolkit to Akira. He might be a corporate stooge, but there's no reason to not have him on Sax's side.

Sax arrives last, his body cam and short rage comms taking a few extra minutes to sync with The Butterfield's communication set-up. He takes the time to make a much needed adjustment to his prosthetic left arm. Once confident that Captain Harris can see and hear his feed, Sax disembarks, traveling over to the derelict ship. He arrives just in time to hear the skittering sound in the walls.

Well. Let's get on with it. The less time I spend on this ship, the better. Carter grumbles, waiting for someone to lead the way.

Fear save = 25 ( hooo boy)"Guys..Guys! shush! What the crink was that? "

"Corporal. Took your time!" Says Alicia, raising one of her eyebrows as she shoots the Doctor a look. "And just in time. We're going to Command. You should lead the way, being the only with military training. Yeah?"

The sudden sound of something moving on this derelict ship caused the hairs on the back of his neck to raise, and for his right hand to instinctively move toward the grip of the sub-machine gun slung across his chest. He lightly holds the stock of the weapon, trying to play off any worry he is displaying.

Man, I've got the jitters. Cryo-stasis must have really messed me up this time...

Sax gives a sheepish smile in response to Alicia's light chastisement. The ladder leading to the upper decks is straight ahead of him and the group. Sax states firmly, "I'll take point. Follow me up", as he begins to ascend the ladder.

Sax slows his climb as he arrives at the mid-deck, giving the area a quick sweep before calling down, "Clear," and continuing up the ladder to the upper deck.

Along the way up, Sax performs a mic check with the captain. "Harris, do you copy? Do you have visual on my body cam?"

TURING inspects the command center, looking for a computer terminal with which she can connect. She’ll look for anything with a compatible data port. She wants to get an assessment of the ship’s systems and condition.

"Loud and clear, Corporal. Any signs of life?"

"All clear, except for a rat that scared the bejesus out of us! Moving to command center now," Sax replies as he continues to the upper deck via the ladder.

Trevor kneels over Turing and calls out to Akira

Hernandez your bot in malfunctioning!

Sax clears the upper deck and motions for crew to join him. When the gynoid collapses suddenly, Sax immediately snaps into action, his hands gripping the sub-machine gun strapped to his chest, sweeping the area looking for an attack.

Satisfied that Turing's collapse wasn't due to an unseen attack, Sax stands down. He nervously flexes his prosthetic left arm, clenching and unclenching the left had unconsciously due to nerves.

Akira tries to keep an air of casualness as he saunters over to the collapsed gynoid.
Alright alright, stand back, let me take a look..Intelligence = 41

TURING sits up suddenly, looking around and re-assessing her surroundings. She glances at the floor, as though surprised to find herself there. The gynoid stands up and turns to face Hernandez.

"My systems rebooted. Internal diagnostics reveal no known cause."

Alicia makes sure that she is never behind everyone else, staying in the middle of the group as we climb up the ladder. I raise my eyebrow in confusion when the bot, out of nowhere, malfunctions. I'm not sure if that thing being here is helping my nerves or not.

Aside from a small squeal when Turing collapsed, Alicia doesn't do more than cross her arms. Finally, it starts to reboot. Anxious for clarification, I don't even wait for someone else to ask. "Why did you just shut down like that?" Says the pilot as she quickly glances around.

Carter's heart feels like it stops beating for a few moments as he clings to the ladder in fear. "What in the hell was that?"

TURING is about to respond to Brown’s question when she hears the shriek from below.

"Interesting... it appears we are not alone on this vessel."

Trevor flinches from the unexpected scream feeling a small surge of adrenaline from the fear.
Jesus Christ! he pauses a sec to calm himself I second that doc, what in the hell was that.

"Freaking crap!" Shrieks Alicia, immediately grabbing the crowbar from her utility belt with both hands. "Can we goddamn move already, guys? Why are we standing around like this?" C'mooon..."

Sax is lightly holding the sub-machine gun as Turing sits up.

When the scream echoes out through the ship, Sax snaps to full attention once again. He scans the area, trying to account for the entire crew of The Butterfield, before taking action. Seeing Dr. Vassar on the ladder (and all other crewmen in sight), Sax offers him a hand to help up to the upper deck as quickly as possible. He then trains his gun down the ladder to the decks below, looking for signs of life.

"Captain, did you copy that noise. It sounded like a scream from an unknown person?"

"Heard it loud and clear Corporal. Everybody stay calm. Computer still showing no life signs other than you, but could be glitching after the reboot. Bioscanners showing anything?"

At the mention of scanner Trevor will quickly pull out his, he also pulls out his crowbar to keep it at the ready.

Alright lets keep ourselves together Trevor says while looking around his comrades, clearly seeing the look of fear on their faces (except for Turing who seems more intrigued). I've got nothing on the scanner besides us, so lets get to that control room, get what we came for and get the hell out of this ghost ship.

"A-Agreed." Says Brown, gripping her crowbar real hard. She quickly looks around, again, as she makes sure that she is in the middle of everyone, as always.

TURING looks at Lowson.

"Ghost ship? Are you implying that the ship has a supernatural presence on board, or do you mean ‘ghost’ as in desolate and empty? There is no scientific evidence for the existence of spirits."

"Hernandez." Says Alicia, her tone cracking. "Tell your bot to shut up. And move."

Sax is breaching the Command Center as the aperture door is opening. He steps into the room slowly through the door, his eyes sweeping the area. He motions the rest of the team to enter, while keeping his focus locked on the android at the command center.

TURING takes in the bizarre scene and approaches the android that has been bisected. She takes a quick look for whatever weapon was used to cut it in half; likely a vibechete.

If the android still seems in a condition to speak, TURING says, "I am Technical Utility Repair and Informational Neo Gynoid, Model 5. What is your designation?"

The second android turns and looks as it hears Kranot speaking, "Welcome! Are you crew? I did not realise there was a gynoid on board."

"I am Pander, T.U.R.I.N.G. series 4. I am having trouble raising any of the crew or indeed, finding out what happened. Can you assist?"

Is it just me or is that scream getting closer? Trevor goes to the door to the bridge and keeps watch on the hallway outside the bridge holding his crowbar at the ready.

"I was hoping it was my imagination." Carter says, looking extremely uncomfortable and unsure as to what to do with himself.

The overwhelming feeling of dread is clearly starting to affect Alicia. Her breathing is suddenly much deeper, and she's not really looking forward as she walks as much as she's staring at the floor, just following everyone.

The bizarre situation in Command doesn't seem to affect her as much, that particular room being so much more spacious than the hallways. Still, the whole situation is macabre. Drips of sweat start to slide down her face, and when the other scream can be heard again, she grips her crowbar to the point where her palm starts to hurt. "Goddamit..." She whispers, more to herself, but still loud enough for anyone to hear. She looks at her crewmates and forces a forced smile. "Let's make sure it doesn't to us, yeah?".

She nervously approaches the two gynoids and interjects the conversation. "So? Can you help it?" She asks Turing, as she looks around for vents or anything weird in where something could crawl in.

Kark, best we don't linger here.

Akira pinches the bridge of his nose, as much a gesture of concentration as it is of disgust of the androids in their untidy condition.

"Hello Pander, could you direct us to the ship's log and databank acces?"

"Certainly, you may access from here," somewhat unsure of himself, Pander indicates the workstation.

"Greetings Pander and Kranot. We are attempting the assess the current situation. Do you know the source of the screams?" TURING looks specifically at Kranot. "How did you sustain damage to your chassis?"

"Heads up everyone! There is something out there! Trevor says with some urgency in his voice. "Corporal i would feel a lot better with your gun over here"

"We do not know, our memory banks appear not to register ...."

THREAT ASSESSMENT: POTENTIAL HIGH

COMBAT PROTOCOLS ENGAGING...

TURING calmly draws her vibechete.

She addresses her question to Kranot. "Prior to being damaged, what is your most recent memory?"

Kranot’s eyes flicker, as he accesses memories.

"11:17 I woke up here, damaged. No memories prior.."

"G-Guys!" Alicia tries to scream, but her voice comes as hoarse. She immediately unstraps her crowbar as her eyes dart between the vent and where we came from.

TURING says "Excuse me" to the two androids and calmly turns to face the incoming threat.

Sax moves quickly to the command center door, motioning Lowson to move to the right side of the door for cover, and so that the engineer will be near the door access panel to close the door if necessary. Using the left side of the door jam for cover, Sax trains his weapon down the corridor and towards the ladder access point in the middle of the hallway.

I don't like turning my back on those spooky ass androids, especially with corpses lying around, but who the hell knows what this is...

Sensing the increased stress in his companions, Sax attempts to calmly state, "Everyone hold tight, it's probably nothing."

Stay frosty. That's what Cam tells himself before that thing emerges from the hatch down the corridor.

"Oh Fuck!" he yells as it comes into view. A moment before opening fire, Sax orders Lowson to close the command center door.
"Shut the door now!"

Sax opens fire, aiming a few controlled bursts at the unknown creatures torso, adjusting his movement as the aperture door closes.

As the door closes, Sax shouts in the general direction of Lowson and Hernandez, "Keep that door closed! Keep that thing out!"

He turns to the rest of the command center to quickly assess the rest of the crew. He then turns his attention back to the door.

I was last one aboard...I sealed the airlock to The Butterfield...Harris should be safe...

Over the short-range comms he calls out to Harris, "Captain, did you see that? What was that bogey?"

SHIT! shit, shit, shit, shit... Trevor mutters shutting the door and pulling out his Handtorch.
Seal the door, nothing will get in. He will begin to seal the door closed with the handtorch.

"I saw something but it was barely showing up on the camera. Can you identify?"

TURING’s optical system retains and scans a 3D image profile of the threatening creature.

ANALYSIS INCONCLUSIVE. LIFE FORM MATCHES NO KNOWN BIOLOGICAL.

Still holding the vibechete, she looks to Pander and Kranot.

"Do either of you retain any data on the life form we’ve just witnessed?"

The gynoid then looks to Hernandez.

"On a positive note, the life form does not appear to be human. As such, my Asimov protocols will not prevent me from engaging it in combat, if necessary."

"There is no record of it in my memory banks and I still cannot seem to access the ships surveillance files."

"Unknown life-form. Something big and nasty, and on two legs. And I think it means us harm. I think this just became a bug hunt, sir," Sax responds to Captains Harris' inquiry.

Cameron checks over the crew and androids. Lowson is making quick work of sealing the door. Generally speaking, seeing a weapon in the hands of any synthetic life-form would set Sax on edge, but considering the circumstances, he's glad for the backup from Turing.

Opening the short-range comms again, Cameron asks, "Captain, please confirm the hard seal between the ships is solid, that both airlocks are sealed."

"Lowson, did that thing register on your bio-scanner?"

"Airlocks are sealed."

"Yeah, it showed up on the scanner so it's living, but in all my years I ain't seen nothing like that" Trevor replies, handtorch trembling in his hand.

"If we are stuck here, I might as well acces the computers and see if they have anything useful.

When the door finally shut us in Alicia rests her butt against (a safe place from) the console, breathing in and out deeply as she watches her hands slowly shake.

She finally decides to close her fist in a pump, determinedly looking at Akira. "Found anything?" She asks as she stares again at the vent, post second scream. "S-Someone probably should block that vent over there, guys." She says with a cracky voice, slowly getting a hold on herself. "What do we do now, anyway? Whatever that thing is, I don't think it can have done whatever it was done to this whole shipwreck. At least not single-handled..." She shakes her head, having divagated a bit. "Meaning that we don't gain anything much from confronting it, right?"

TURING watches the door and listens for any more noises.

"Most intriguing..."

The gynoid deactivates her humming vibechete and re-sheathes it. She approaches Kranot.

"Mark 4 Unit, I wish to establish a data link with you in order to assess the state of your positronic net. Some of your memory files may be recoverable. Have you run any self-diagnostics? And if so, did you detect the presence of any malicious software?"

In the newfound silence of the command center, Corporal Sax decides they need to get off this boat and back to The Butterfield as quickly as possible.

What the hell is going on here...

Considering the frayed nerves of the crew, Sax decides to step up and provide calm leadership. He decides issuing marching orders to the crew is the best course of action.

"Brown, get in the pilot's seat and see if you can start this ship up or figure out why it's dead in the water."

"Hernandez, Turing - run diagnostics on those androids, before linking up with them. Make sure they're clean before you jack into their databanks"

"Lowson, get that bio-scanner over to that vent Brown noticed."

"Doc, help me search the room for any other vents or escape hatches off this room. We might need another route back to the ship."

"Captain, anything on your sensors?"

Carter snaps out of his shock, holding his tranq pistol in a white-knuckled grip. He looks to Sax, and nods. "Will do."
He begins searching around the room for vents and hatches.

Trevor nods in agreement and moves over to the vent watching the bio-scanner as he goes.

TURING will begin running diagnostics on Kranot.

Alicia uncertainly nods at the Corporal as she jogs at the Pilot seats. "I'll do my best, but like... I wouldn't get my hopes up with this piece of junk." She says, finally being able to control herself a bit more as the woman focuses on doing her magic. Or trying, at least.

The ship will probably not start, but maybe I can follow the initialization process and try to figure it out from there what's potentially wrong.

"We gotta get off this ship!" he says trying to keep his hands from shaking "but there is no way in hell i'm going through that door until that thing is gone." the sight of the monster had deflated any fight that Trevor had, his only thoughts were on keeping that thing away.