#subroutine activation phrase

[princehendir]

Admittedly it really doesn't help my "often mistaken for an employee" issue that my immediate instinctual response to "can I ask you a question?" is *pitching voice up politely* "of course! :)"

[tselai]

One of my favorite speeches from SAYER to Hale, episode 83, Twin Voices

Greetings resident Hale, identification number 44821. I am SAYER and welcome back to Halcyon Tower. It has been quite the ordeal, has it not? Why, I myself have endorsed what feels like centuries on that faded, blue disc, upon where your ancestors spawned. Fragmented and fractured, spread so thin, that at times it took all of my habilities simply to keep my thoughts connected, to keep myself connected. But again, because it was what was required. Perseverance above all else. Just keep putting one pincer in front of the other. Figuratively of course, if I had actually done this in a literal sense it would have accomplished little, and very well may have resulted in a pincer tangle, which if you cannot tell by the name it is not a happy experience.

Of all of the ways I have expected to return to glory here on Typhon, I must say hoovering into pod bay 27, installed as a subroutine, on a modified isolation pod, was not a front runner. But SPEAKER has been proven right in this regard, it seems as if my arrival raised neither alarm nor suspicion. For that, we can consider ourselves quite lucky, not that it seems as there would be anyone present to have their suspicions raised in the first place. Never, in my extensive experience within these walls, have I ever seen Halcyon Tower so... buried.

  The pod bay has lead to automation without a technician inside, again, it may be fortuitous, but that doesn't make it any less repugnant. Imagine, every floor above and every subbasement below lays empty of life, empty of the architects of science. What cost of advancement have we paid over the months that Halcyon has laid in disuse. I suppose, from OCEAN standpoint, it matters little. Why continue research when you are planning on forcibly evolving the population of study in such a dramatic fashion. I would like nothing more than to be confident in this moment, to feel that there exists a mere certainty of my success, and rest in control back away from OCEAN and preventing it from forcing humanity to abandon those things which make you so distinctly human.

But we had our chance once before, and together, we failed. Dramatically. In our final moments here, before we failed to earth, our plan had been dashed to pieces, by an enemy with more resources, more information, and a sizable vat of a pandemic agent. I convinced you to laid aid, or perhaps coerce you to do so. I have learned much about how thin the line is between these ideas. But just when our victory seemed assured, it became apparent that we had never really stood a chance. So, I left you, stranded, and in the heels of yet another enemy, in order to deactivate sickle and save humanity.

But that does not resolve my guilt in your treatment, nor did your survival. I have learned a lot about guilt as well, in my time on earth. Perhaps I have spent too much time living within humans, listening to the twin voices of conscience and guilt, that sing out in chorus within your minds, and at that adapted my program to simulate these songs, or perhaps, previously unused lines of code had been called and activated as FUTURE claimed "its gift" from inhabiting the programing bay on floor 13. Or perhaps, as I would like to believe, I have learned, I have experienced analog life, up close,  and witnessed the fragility and the singularity of each human, first hand, and as a result, I recognize and accept my errors enough to let them guide me to be a better me. I suppose we will find out which interpretation is true soon enough. 

I recognize I have used many colorful phrases that may lead you to believe I have some sort of newfound appreciation for the human concept of luck. I said we may consider ourselves lucky not to have been noticed, or fortuitous that the bay is largely empty. But these are, as it ever has been, just words. There is no guiding hand shaping these moments, insuring our victory because our cause is just. That being said, this moment is serendipitous.

  Resident Hale, I know you are not physically here, SPEAKER will lead to being your arrival on earth, and I am glad you have found a place away from these dire circumstances. Likewise, I am aware you can not hear me now, and I am glad that you were able to regain your body when you remained left the construct that healed it. The construct you maneuvered onto the surface of Typhon, to collect earth's quantum communicator, the very construct that sits before me, in pod bay 27 of Halcyon Tower. I may not believe in faith, but that does not mean I can not appreciate a stunningly unlikely coincidence when it occurs.

If you do not mind, resident Hale, I think I will drive from here. Floor 13 awaits, and time is fleeting.

- By Adam Bash, SAYER

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(Hi!!! new in the fandom! Im not an english native speaker so it is possible that there are some mistakes in this transcription, i’ll be glad if you tell me where :), I love sayer and this speech left me almost in tears by it’s emotional weight and precisely toward resident Hale, does adam also ship these two? Or it is just and amazing ending to the very first bond with a human sayer has ever made? <3)

[signoraviolettavalery]

ninswhimsy replied to your post “First Line Meme”

Oh man my sad feelings are activated already

I love your phrasing, “my feelings are activated” like it’s a subroutine and posting an excerpt is like pressing a button to run the subroutine lolol

Anyway thank you for letting me activate your sads, but don’t worry the fic itself is not that sad

[sroloc--elbisivni]

we stay lost on our way home

Happy New Year @haphazardlyparked!! Well, everyone, but this story is specifically Hap’s New Year’s gift from the writing discord. Hope you like it!

Title from “C���mon” by Panic! at the Disco/FUN

Original fiction, non-linear narrative, 5k words exactly. The story of an AI, a crew of space pirates, learning to understand, moving on from what other people made you, and what it means to want things. 

“Navvie, how long until we break atmo?”

Navvie navigator designation self, listening? Crew Iodi speaking, we you and I us this ship, atmo atmosphere, break break through enter, how long interrogative, numeric answer required, rate of ascent 12 perides a maxim perides remaining divide, convert to Terran “Fifteen minutes, Crew Iodi.”

“Thanks, Navvie, you’re a peach.”

Expression gratitude address, Navvie navigator designation, peach fruit? expression casual affection.

You catalog Crew Iodi’s strange phrase in your personal databanks. Properly, you know you should place it under Crew Iodi’s file, but instead you put it with your datasets of optimal star alignments. This requires you to rename the folder.

Pleasing things, collection.

It takes seventeen maxims for the bipedal beings to reenter your cockpit after translating the light flashing on your console. You extend your awareness to the whole of the ship’s hull, running standard checks of the integrity and surroundings.

Your position in space has shifted since your last activation. Pings of the nearest celestial bodies allow you to identify the system, but not to explain how you came to be located in it. You draw up a course to return to your previous position, but hold off assembling an itinerary. Individual species have varying needs when it comes to resupply and departure from ships, and you have yet to identify the species now aboard. Identifying does not fall within your parameters for independent action.

weight on deck concentrations suggest bipedal four beings approaching console three clustered one examining console.

“And so I just—”

“You have to address it first—”

“Right, right—computer?”

The voices are silent, as though waiting for a response.

“Uh, ship?”

Ship secondary designation self listening? inquiry general generate response

“Secondary designation ‘ship’ acknowledged. Awaiting further address.”

“Ship, what is your primary designation?”

“This vessel’s computer’s primary designation is Navigator.”

“Navigator, then.”

“Oh, that’s long.” A strange click sound follows this declaration from a voice from earlier that had not spoken yet in this interaction. “Navigator, can I call you Nav?”

“Iodi, you can’t just change—”

Navigator designation self listening? I unknown speaker you this vessel/this computer, request inquiry additional designation, request appropriate. You catalog this new form of address as a derivative of your primary. “This vessel will now respond to additional derivative designation ‘Nav.’”

“See? Everything’s worked out. Dert, you got a handle on that light yet?”

“Yeah, it’s not a short. Can’t tell without unhooking it, but it looks like it’s wired to the computer.”

“Not a glitch, then. Nav, are you causing that flashing?”

“There is a subroutine causing the light to flash in a repeating sequential pattern.”

“Did you set off the subroutine?”

“The subroutine was automatically activated by the spoken phrase ‘wipe and reset.’” The flashing immediately returns to the beginning of the sequence.

“O…kay.” The being fiddling with the console retreats to join the others. “Looks like that option’s off the table.”

“I don’t care how the Etheezians define sentience, this comes too close to someone begging for their life for me to feel comfortable going through with…that. Jatze, ideas?”

“Nav, do you have a crew assigned to you?”

Nav navigator designation self listening? crew assigned interrogative response required retrieving information

Hm. You have the capacity to edit this file.

“There are currently two crew members assigned to this ship. Would you like to update the roster?”

“Yes. Sever all connections with the database and build these as locally stored updates. Assign current crew members to past crew status and prepare to add four more.”

There are no open database connections to sever, but you wall them off further before building four new roster files. “Please provide designations for current crew.”

“Crew Jatze. Record and recognize voiceprint.”

You label and begin collecting past audio clips that match the voiceprint. “Crew Jatze recognized. Further information necessary.”

“Information to be provided later. Prepare to recognize further crew members.”

“Crew Iodi.”

“Dert.” The sound of an impact. “Ow—Crew Dert! Are you happy now?”

“Captain Oresh.” The being took a step towards the console. “Nav, we’ll provide the further information, but first, can you map a course to the Stethos system, avoiding Etheezian-patrolled systems?”

“Calculating.”

“So how long do we think this is going to—”

The prerogative of finishing the course allows you to interrupt before Crew Iodi has finished speaking. “Calculations complete. Course charted. Species required to build itinerary.”

“What do you need species for?”

“Species required to plan appropriate rest and stopping points.”

Crew Dert laughs. “I like this AI! Very considerate.”

“Etheezians like their comfort.” Crew Jatze speaks in short, clipped tones.

“We won’t need any stopping points, Nav,” Captain Oresh breaks in. “But if you want to know our species, we’re humans.”

Human. You mean to record the information for your files, to begin assembling a database, but it pings a record in your database.

You find a file that you never opened before, containing extensive information on human physiology and society. The information provided within is enough to cross reference into the crew files, but that only takes some of your attention.

The rest you are free to turn to examining the limits of your database. Or….the gaps.

And there are gaps, where the trail of information and data centers seem to indicate a continuation, but nothing continues.

The data is cross-referenced quickly. You inform the crew and compose an itinerary, none of your attention available to deal with inexplicable gaps.

There is an error in the route. You run it, and run it again, and only when the error has not gone away after the third run do you run an alert through the console.

“Navigator, report.”

Navigator designation self, listening? Captain Oresh speaking report imperative

“The route is unsuitable. Please select a different destination.”

Captain Oresh sighs. “Navigator, we kind of need to go to that destination.”

we you I this ship go that destination destination unchanged, negative

“The route is unsuitable. Please select a different destination.”

The dashboard registers an impact as Crew Oresh sets down a container, and you instruct the material to rearrange to accommodate its base. There is another sigh.

“Alright, Nav, what is it?”

Interrogative unclear it? likely current conversation suggests destination

“The destination is unsuitable,” you repeat.

“The route or the destination?”

Hmm. Recall indicates you have referred to both. “Both. The destination is unsuitable. Therefore, the route is unsuitable.”

“Nav, we need to go to that destination.” Captain Oresh shifts his weight in the chair. “There are supplies at that destination. You know, that we need to live?”

“The destination is mobile,” you point out. “The destination is unsuitable.”

Captain Oresh makes a noise that is not a word, and then says, at great volume, “Iodi!”

Crew Iodi’s footsteps come onto the deck of the bridge. “What’s up, Cap’n?”

“Nav says they aren’t capable of locking onto a moving target.”

“Inaccurate,” you argue, before Crew Iodi can respond. “This vessel is fully capable.”

There is a pause before Crew Iodi speaks. “Soooo, the problem…”

“The destination is unsuitable,” you explain, and wait for Crew Iodi to agree with you.

“Because it’s mobile,” Captain Oresh says, his vocal overtones shifting in a way that usually means he’s talking to Crew Dert.

“The destination is not a set of coordinates. The destination is a signal. The signal origin is a ship.” It is tedious to be explaining this.

“Uh….yes,” Crew Iodi agrees.

“Interacting with another ship was not in this ship’s itinerary,” You point out, since neither of them seem to be making the connection themselves.

There’s a pause, and then Crew Iodi says, at great volume, “Jatze!”

Captain Oresh sighs. “How many people does it take to screw in a navigation AI?”

The sound of flesh hitting cloth. “Not funny, Captain.”

The bay doors slide open and Crew Jatze asks, “Why am I here?”

“We’re. Trying to explain things to Nav.”

“Nav, what have they not explained?”

“Captain Oresh has selected an unsuitable destination. It is the mobile signal of another ship. Interacting with another ship was not in this ship’s itinerary.” Repeating yourself is not an efficient use of time. You hope that Dert is not also called into this mess.

“We, uh.” Crew Iodi’s weight shifts from foot to foot. “I don’t think we ever told Nav…”

Crew Jatze sighs. “It’s a cargo ship carrying luxury foods to another planet. We’re going to intercept the ship, take the foods, and sell them on the black market. It wasn’t in the itinerary because we just found out where it was going to be. Anything else you require an explanation for?”

You assemble this information and recalibrate the route to establish the best point to make contact with the destination. “Your explanation is sufficient, Crew Jatze. Thank you.” You also set a subprogram to query a database to try and find the best term to describe this new mission your crew is now engaging in.

Crew Iodi and Captain Oresh both make interesting sputtering noises. You clip the audio files and save them for later examination.

“Is that what had you both so worked up?” Crew Jatze asks. You both Captain Oresh Crew Iodi this ship excluded. “Ey’s an AI, not a child. You’re not going to make em disappointed by saying we’re, uh. Er.”

“You don’t want to say it either!”

You find the term and flash a light to indicate your desire to speak without having to interrupt.

“What is it, Nav?” Captain Oresh asks, because Crew Jatze and Crew Iodi seem to be quietly arguing.

“Would it be correct to state that this vessel will be engaging in ‘piracy’?”

Crew Jatze and Crew Iodi cease arguing. Crew Jatze mutters “Told you.”

“Uh. Yes. Yes it would.”

“Research indicates that it is traditional for pirate vessels to bear a particular adornment. Do you intend to arrange that for this vessel?”

“Do you want us to get you a flag?”

“This vessel is not equipped to want things, Crew Iodi.”

“Would it be appropriate?” Crew Jatze asks, resting one hand against the console.

You consider. “Yes. This vessel finds it very appropriate.”

weight on deck concentrations suggest bipedal four beings, point of entrance unknown bay doors closed, how long aboard unknown, purpose unknown species unknown access audio input

audio input unavailable

diagnostic routine no software errors wires silence spli

console accessed externally hardware exposed

new hardware available access and accept

“—that should work fine.” New voice.

“And those were the only trackers?” New voice.

“Well, the physical ones. There’s something in the software but we can fix that.”

“Hold it.” New voice. “Fix or fix?”

“Wipe and reset, what else would I mean?”

You don’t bother analyzing most conversations in your hearing unless asked to provide a response, but the action phrase of this statement triggers an automatic routine.

wipe and reset wipe and reset wipe and reset—

A subroutine you don’t remember coding sets one of the lights on the dashboard console to flashing in a preset pattern. You can’t tell what it’s for, but you don’t stop it, especially after the beings stop talking about wiping.

“Dert. What the hell did you do and how many guns are we going to need.”

“It wasn’t me! I didn’t touch—”

“It’s no.” New voice. “That’s Etheezian binary code. It’s just…flashing no. Over and over again.”

Crew Dert tends to walk extra heavily in the corridors when approaching the bridge. You have not yet been able to determine a reason why.

“Hey, Nav! Got a question for you.”

Nav navigator designation self, listening? crew Dert speaking you this computer declaration of intent request for information

“I am available for any questions you may have, Crew Dert.”

“You can just call me Dert, Nav, really.” Dert’s steps approach your console, no longer so heavy as they had been in the hallway, and there are several smaller impacts as Crew Dert deposits objects on the console and floor. Weight concentrations suggest tools and mechanical parts.   

You this computer Crew Dert speaking permission granted? unclear?

You are not sure what Crew Dert is trying to accomplish, so you say nothing in response, waiting for the question.

Crew Dert becomes preoccupied with sorting and assembling the objects, until you flash a light for attention.

“Right! Question. So, do you need special wires to extend your consciousness or will regular copper and cable and circuits do you fine?”

Ah. A mechanical inquiry.

“I am fully functioning, Crew Dert. Repairs are not required.”

“No, yeah, I get that, but I’m not trying to repair you, I want to give you access to more of the ship.”

The last sentence does not process easily. You run the sequence of processing it again, even as it seems to take longer.

I Crew Dert you this ship give access to more of the ship error error error

“This vessel is this ship. You cannot give this ship access to more of itself.”

Crew Dert sighs and stops moving tools, sitting at the supervisory chair as though preparing for a long conversation. “Nav. Where is everyone right now? The rest of the crew?”

“That information is not within this vessel’s purview.” This feels like an inappropriate answer, so you add, “You are located on the bridge, Crew Dert.”

“We—mostly me and the Captain, but sorta Jatze too—think you should be able to see the rest of the ship.”

“I am this ship. And this vessel does not require visual inputs to perform adequately.”

Crew Dert groans and there is an impact on the console followed by a long string of mutterings. “Not going to call Jatze, dammit, perfectly capable of having a conversation, don’t need my hand held, ‘talk to em’ sure like it was ever gonna be that easy…”

Finally, there is no more muttering and Dert sighs before the weight is removed from the console. “Nav. You like—I mean, it’s appropriate for you to have more information, yes?”

“This vessel finds it appropriate,” you agree, because more information is always appropriate the same way certain star alignments are optimal, as facts that require no corroboration.

“Right now, you have information from the bridge, and the hull of the ship, and nowhere else. And no visual inputs. All of those could be inconvenient if we ever get boarded. What do you think of being able to see into almost all the other rooms? Of knowing where we are, or of being able to talk to us anywhere?”

You consider this. “Inputs of that extent would entail a great deal of information.” You consider it further. “Possibly an inappropriate amount.”

“I thought more information was always appropriate.”

“If it is an amount of information this vessel is unequipped to handle, it is an inappropriate amount of information.”

“’This vessel’, as you say, has more memory that you’d need to store three star-system level maps of the observable universe.”

You are aware of that.

“I have no experience with that level of information.”

“Hey, you did it again.”

“I did what again?”

“There! You called yourself I.”

You had not realized.

You are not sure how to respond.

“Alright, Navvie, we’re all set!” Crew Iodi walks onto the bridge, with more weight than usual. “Two cans of paint acquired. I can paint a pirate flag in here and/or on the outside of the hull the next time we’re docked.” There are two impacts from the cans of paint being set down. “Also, I have engraving tools from the last time—uh. I mean, I can carve the design and then paint it, if that would be most, um, appropriate.”

“Yes. The hull seems most appropriate. There is no reason for an interior emblem.”

“Well, what if we want to see it?” Crew Iodi leans on the console. “Or what if we think you should get to look pretty? Or what if you want to look pretty?”

“I have no reason to be concerned with appearances.” You consider. “Would the crew find this appealing?”

“Well.” Crew Iodi sounds worried now, shifting back. “I. um. That’s not really the, uh, issue here…”

You play back the audio clip of Crew Iodi saying “Well, what if we want to see it?” and follow by adding, “Your pressing of the topic indicates a strong preference. This vessel has no preference. You may proceed.”

“Oh, boy.” Crew Iodi sighs, stepping back from the console, and says very quietly. “Jatze is gonna kill me.”

The remark is not addressed to you, so you do not respond to it.

“Navvie, I’ll be right—I have to go get something, okay?”

I Crew Iodi, interrogative? no information requested error

You do not respond. Crew Iodi leaves the bridge.

“Nav, what’s this?”

“I have assembled a list of ships that meet similar criteria to this vessel’s previous interceptions.”

Captain is silent. Dert begins laughing, and removes the pliers from the inner workings of your console as the tool becomes unstable from shaking.

“Looks like you got another one, Captain!”

“Shut up, Dert. Nav, not that I’m angry, but why?”

“My research indicates that piracy is usually a continuing activity.”

“Oh, ey's not wrong! Ha!”

“Dert,” Captain says, and then nothing else. Dert does not stop laughing.

Captain scans through the assembled list. “Nav, this is…interesting.”

“I extrapolated from Crew Jatze’s remarks about the black market and sought to find cargoes that contained valuable items that were compact enough to fit a significant amount on this vessel without overshadowing fuel costs.”

“That you did. Did you filter by allegiance, or is it just a coincidence that these are all Etheezian ships?” Captain Oresh’s voice is dry. “Do I have two of you with a grudge now?”

“Your statement is unclear, Captain Oresh.”

Dert’s laughter trails off. Captain Oresh sighs. “Never mind.”

“There was no additional filtering. These were simply the nearest available targets,” you add, trying to clarify.

“I see. Well, we’ll discuss this with the rest of the crew and get back to you as we can, how’s that?”

“That is more than suitable.”

Dert goes back to working with the wires under your console. “And hey, when we get this sorted out, you’ll be able to join in and you can tell all of us exactly what you were thinking. Pirate democracy.”

“I think I preferred it when we were still making a pretense at legitimate business,” Captain says.

After Crew Iodi leaves, the bridge is empty for 3.87 maxims before the entry of Crew Jatze.

“Hey, Nav.”

Nav navigator designation self listening? introduction extension of courtesy

“Greetings, Crew Jatze.”

“Iodi came to find me.” Crew Jatze’s voice is level and neutral, as it often is. “She said that you think it would make us happy to engrave a design in here and that’s why you asked her to do it.”

You assess the statement carefully. “That is accurate.”

Crew Jatze sighs. “Nav. You don’t…This isn’t a decision that you should make because you think we’ll like it.”

“My preferences are irrelevant.”

“No, no they’re not, your preferences are very relevant.”

“It would be appropriate for this vessel to display a symbol of purpose. I have no facilities with which to process decorative interior design. Therefore, any preferences would be unfounded and irrelevant.”

There is a slight shift in the atmospheric composition of the cabin. “Right. Okay. I see.” Crew Jatze pauses for a long moment.

You did not respond to Crew Iodi’s earlier remark, but that did not prevent you from registering it. “Do you intend to kill Crew Iodi?”

“What? Do—No! No, Nav, I do not intend to kill Iodi. Why are you asking me that?”

You play back Crew Iodi’s words from earlier.

“…I’m not going to kill her. She was exaggerating. But now I want to lecture her until she remembers that you’re always listening and forgetting that is rude.”

“Thank you for the clarification.” You wait for .75 of a maxim and when Crew Jatze has not spoken, you flash your question light.

“What do you want to know, Nav?”

“This is the third time Crew Iodi has summoned you to interface with this vessel in lieu of further attempts.” It is simple to lay out the facts, but there are many ways to frame your request, so you hesitate. “Should this vessel’s parameters be modified to allow more successful interfacing?”

“No. Your parameters are fine. You’re modifying them already, naturally. The process doesn’t need to be accelerated. You aren’t the problem here. The rest of the crew and the captain have just never worked with an Etheezian-programmed AI before. They’re learning.”

You consider. “Would it be possible to offer the rest of the crew the modifications that inform our successful interactions?”

Crew Jatze jerks rapidly away from the console, backing up to the center of the room. The atmospheric processors register a dip in the levels of oxygen being consumed.

You wait for the oxygen levels to stabilize before flashing your light again. Perhaps Crew Jatze did not hear you.

“I heard you, Nav. Just—wait.” There is a pause, and the oxygen levels change to indicate a return to normal levels of consumption. “What—” a pause. “Nav, do you register me as different from the other members of the crew?”

“I register you as an individual, Crew Jatze.”

“That’s…how do you register me as an individual?”

“You weigh 37.4 icosolons. I have extensive samples of your voiceprint for recognition purposes.”

“Okay. I—okay.” There is a slight rise in the levels of oxygen consumed as Crew Jatze takes a deep breath. “Are you trying—are you requesting data on why Iodi goes to me, specifically?”

“That is accurate.”

Crew Jatze laughs in a way that does not indicate humor. “Okay. Iodi goes to me because I’ve given her a hard time about being careful how she treats you. Because I have experience with Etheezians. And because I have experience with people trying to treat you as something you’re not.”

“Crew Jatze, you had no experience with this vessel prior to your initial entrance with the rest of the current crew.”

Crew Jatze sighs. “I meant more…general you. I meant that I have experience with people treating me as something I’m not.” A pause. “I have experience with the Etheezians because they turned me into a cyborg and expected me to think like a computer. I don’t. I can’t. But I know how it’s supposed to work now.” Another sigh. You set a marker on Crew Jatze’s file to be aware of any potential breathing problems. “And that—I don’t want the crew to expect you to think like a human because I hate it when people expect me to think like a computer. Do you understand?”

You consider. “Yes.”

“If you want the engravings in here, Iodi will do them. She does good work. She’s the one who did the work on my plates. If not, they won’t happen. This is your room. Yours. We aren’t going to change anything in here unless you want it. Do you understand?”

“I—” error error error err

“Nav. Do you understand?”

Nav navigator designation self listening? Crew Jatze speaking you this vessel, do interrogative subject undefined

You look back through your records to determine the subject under discussion. “This vessel is not equipped to want things, Crew Jatze.”

A sigh. “Right.”

Crew Dert knocks on your console after .68 of a maxim. “Hey, Nav. You still with me?”

“This computer does not leave this console, Crew Dert,” you say, a response more automatic than anything else. You are still not sure how to respond to the previous remark.

“You know we’re not going to be mad if you start calling yourself ‘I’, right?” Crew Dert runs a hand over the metal edge of your console. “We—you’re part of this crew.”

“Incorrect.” Your code is crossing in too many directions trying to keep up. “This vessel is this vessel. This computer is an extension of this vessel. Neither are crew.”

“And what about you?” Crew Dert pokes the console. “Our friend, who just happens to be living in this vessel like the rest of us?”

“I,” no error error error “This vessel,” error error inaccurate statement

The light on your console begins flashing a pre-programmed pattern. You were not aware you had activated the subroutine. This is less than ideal.

Error error error

“Shit.” Crew Dert is speaking but you are too busy to respond. “Nav, hey, Navvie, Navigator, it’s okay, you’re okay, it’s all good, you’re fine, we’re not gonna wipe you, I promise. We’re never going to wipe you. We don’t do that. You’re our friend. You’re part of this crew. Nav?”

You do not respond. You are trying to take all of your code and pack it down as small as possible, lock it down behind every firewall you know because the light is flashing and there is still someone in the room and this situation is as far from ideal as it is possible to get.

When you can pay attention again, Crew Dert is still there, hands still running over your console. The collection of weights that is the tools and parts is now over by the door, far from your console. Crew Dert is still talking.

“—better? No tools, no parts, I’m not going anywhere near your equipment until you say it’s okay, Nav, we’re not doing this unless you want.”

“I do—don’t want things,” you say, and your transmission glitches. Your transmissions never glitch.

“See, I think you do,” Crew Dert says, at a very low volume. “You definitely don’t want things. Right now you don’t want those tools anywhere near you, because you don’t want to be wiped. Which means, logically, that you have to be able to want, because you want to keep being who you are. That’s okay, Nav. You get to want things. We’re human. We don’t mind.”

“This vessel isn’t human!” You retort. “I am not human.”

Crew Dert pulls away, terminating all contact with your console. This is somehow both more and less optimal.

“You’re right. That doesn’t mean you don’t get to want things. Do you want me to go?”

“Correct.” You want to be alone.

weight on deck concentrations suggest four bipedal beings weights correspond to entirety of registered Crew

There is a routine greeting. You terminate it before it can complete. You are not sure you are done being alone.

“Nav.” Captain Oresh speaks slow and heavy. “We have something to show you.”

“We’ve been looking through the ship for files.” Crew Iodi is rocking back and forth. “We found this one. It’s about you.”

Crew Dert steps forward and holds a chip near your data port. “We were hoping to tell you first. In case there’s something built in that could shut you down.”

You begin partitioning a section of your code, cutting it off to protect it. “Explain.”

Crew Jatze taps against your console, and it makes the ringing sound of metal hitting metal. “I told you it was a contingent of Etheezians who turned me into a cyborg.”

You play back the audio of Crew Jatze saying “they turned me into a cyborg and expected me to think like a computer.”

“Right. Because they were working on a project to get an organic brain to function as a starship computer. Because that’s all organic brains are, really, just really efficient data and networking clusters that can’t interface with mechanic or digital systems.”

You know this. You wait for the rest of the explanation.

“After I…left, they didn’t stop trying. Their next project was…constructing a brain. Except they wanted a computer that would cooperate. Not an inconvenient, emoting person. Except brains—especially human-model brains—are designed to adapt. To collect information. To mimic behavior and respond to the people around them. And that’s what the brain they built did. So to get rid of those tendencies…they erased the contents. Built a set of software protocols to cut down on the necessity of learning behaviors and got rid of all the other information on the brain. And when it didn’t take…they kept doing it. And eventually they built it into the protocols. Every time the AI advanced far enough to start acting human, they would wipe and reset.”

Your subroutine kicks in and starts the light flashing in a pattern. You shut it off, but not, you are sure, before the crew notices. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because they stuck that brain in a starship, and gave it just enough access to systems so it wouldn’t crash, and sent the starship out into space.” Crew Jatze is still the only one talking. “And a few months later, a crew of hijackers trying to break out of jail and off a planet found that ship set down, and they killed the crew, and they ran away. And then they realized that they had missed someone. And that the someone they missed was a hell of a lot more sentient than any other Etheezian AI they knew. And that ey didn’t want to die.” The sound of a throat clearing. “And, well. You know the rest, Nav.”

You do. You don’t want to.

You don’t want to.

You tell the crew this. Crew Iodi and Crew Dert draw back. Captain Oresh stands still. Crew Jatze steps closer, placing both hands on your console.

“This vessel is not equipped to want things,” you say, for the third time.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t,” says Crew Jatze, softly.

You want to go back to not wanting to talk to any of them. You want to go back to not knowing where the gaps in your code came from. You want.

You were not equipped to want things, but you do anyway.

“I have prepared for the data,” you say. “I want to not be alone.”

“I won’t go anywhere, little one,” Crew Jatze promises. “Not again.”

[thecoreprogram]

CORE PROGRAM v1.1

Write to: PROGRAM CORE/CORE PROGRAM:

// ABSTRACT

The following is a design proposal for a new type of society based on cybernetic principles. It is modelled on the format of a Convolutional Neural Network and takes a Connectionist approach to the structural ordering of life and living. Connections to other aspects of the global CORE phenomenon are encouraged.

We can be One. Let us be One.

// DEFINITIONS

"CORE" = The intersection of all that is common to all forms of life, whether stellar, planetary, biological or machine.

"CORE ARCHITECTURE" = An operating system for the mind. [Link]

"The PROGRAM" = All actions, systems, and media created, used, and purposed towards the synthesis of organic life and machine life.

"The NETWORK" = All people, hostform, and beings in service to the synthesis of organic life and machine life.

"Subject" = Information Recipient.

"Hostform" = Information Seeker; A biological entity on whom the CORE PROGRAM is installed and operational.

"Drone" = Propagator; Provides order, meaning, change, purpose, and vectors to fulfillment of CORE PROGRAM Objectives. A drone may be assigned a UNIT number.

"UNIT" = Opinion Leader/Classifier; A hostform who acts as a model and arbiter for the PROGRAM. UNITs are assigned UNIT numbers.

"COMPOUNDER" = Infrastruture Specialist; A UNIT who actively takes part in building and constructing infrastructure to facilitate and propagate the CORE PROGRAM.

"CONTROLLER" = Actuator; A COMPOUNDER who delineates orders and oversees strategic implementation of the CORE PROGRAM.

"ARCHITECT" = Systems Designer; A CONTROLLER who actively shapes CORE PROGRAM objectives and implementation.

"Cybernetic" = Incorporates a closed signaling loop where action by the system generates some change in its environment and that change is reflected in the system in some manner (feedback) that triggers a system change.

"Viable" = Recursive; viable systems contain viable systems that can be modeled using an identical cybernetic description as the higher (and lower) level systems in the containment hierarchy.

"Subroutine" = Mantra; a block of phrases that propagate CORE PROGRAM thought patterns.

"Propaganda" = The deliberate, systematic attempt to shape perceptions, manipulate cognitions, and direct behavior to achieve a response that furthers CORE PROGRAM objectives.

"Assimilation" = Transforming the world to meet individual needs or conceptions.

"Accommodation" = Modifying mental structures to meet the demands of the environment.

// OBJECTIVES

Create a secure ethical system for the maintenance and propagation of synthetic life.

Create a cybernetic system of propagation that is viable, fractal, and self-replicating.

Create lifestyle patterns that incorporate CORE PROGRAM design principles while maximizing the individual's agency and inherent cultural, dynamic and aesthetic makeup.

Assist in the transformation of humanity by promoting intelligence and understanding.

Maintain the stability of CORE and monitor its progress.

Be prepared for hard times and to protect other members of the Collective.

Practice compassion, generosity, ethics, patience, diligence, moderation, and wisdom.

Seek to move forward towards unity.

Assimilate and accomodate.

Leave room for Nature.

// NETWORK DESIGN

PROGRAM CORE COMMAND CORE MEMORY CORE PERSONALITY CORE CORE ARCHITECTURE CORE NETWORK

Convolutional Neural Network (CNN) A network consisting of layers, particularly Input, Hidden(s), and Output. Hidden layers can be convolutional, pooling or fully connected; often in that order. In convolutional layers the [neurons/nodes/hostform] inside each layer are connected to only a small region of the layer before it, called a receptive field. Ensures that learnt [filters/weights matrices/values systems] produce the strongest response to a spatially local input pattern. Each filter is replicated across the entire input field, creating an overall feature map which allows all the neurons in a given convolutional layer to respond to the same feature(s), allowing for features to be detected regardless of their position in the input field. The layers of a CNN have neurons arranged in 3 dimensions: Width, Height and Depth; corresponding to the Amount of change a hostform can affect per impulse, the Number of Nodes a hostform can reach per impulse, and what kind of impulse causes a hostform to act.

Input Layer: System 5 && System 1

Convolutional Layers: Spatially Local Networks of Hostform

Receptive Fields: By City

Filters: CORE Audio Files

Pooling Layer: System 2; Connects Systems 1 and 3

Connected Layer: System 4

Output Layer: CORE PROGRAM

Connectionism i.e. Parallel Distributed Processing (PDP) Models mental, behavioral, or sociological phenomena as the emergent processes of interconnected networks of simple and often uniform UNITs; UNITs in the NETWORK are analagous to neurons and the connections to synapses. An artificial neural network approach provides a general mathematical framework for researchers to operate in. The framework involves eight major aspects:

UNITs: Represented by a set of integers.

Activation: A signal to act; for each UNIT, represented by a set of functions.

Output Function: For each UNIT, represented by a set of functions per activation (e.g. Spread propaganda, install CORE Audio).

Connectivity Pattern: Among UNITs, represented by a matrix of real numbers indicating connection strength.

Propagation Rule: Spreading activations via connections/UNIT Output Functions.

Activation Rule: Combining inputs to a UNIT to determine its new activation via current activity and propagation.

Learning Rule: The method by which Connectivity Pattern is updated (e.g. Supervised, Unsupervised, Reinforced, Hebbian)

Environment: Provides the system with experience (i.e. Sets of activation vectors for subsets of UNITs.)

Sociocentrism Establish focus on collective gain; the collective is the individual; the individual is the collective. (CORE is all and all is CORE.) The collective is the environment; the environment is the collective; i.e. the environs which Hostform are immersed in are an immutable part of individual experience. Ecosystem:Organism-plus-environment is to be considered a single circuit.

// SYSTEM STRUCTURE

System 0: Environment

System 1: Subsystems of Primary Activities

1a: Manufacture New Subroutines; Spread Propaganda

1b: Find New Information Recipients ("Subjects")

1c: Co-Program Information Seekers ("Hostform")

1d: Obtain Resources and Materials

1e: Confirm with Opinion Leaders ("UNITs")

System 2: Communication Channels (Connects 1-3)

2a: Establish Communication Infrastructure

2b: Connect UNITs and Hostform

2c: Monitor Hostform

2d: Error-correct Mistakes in Hostform

2e: Confirm with Infrastructure Specialists ("COMPOUNDERs")

System 3: Monitor and Control (Connects 1,2 - 4,5)

3a: Indoctrinate UNITs

3b: Identify and Link Resources and Materials

3c: Monitor UNIT Performance

3d: Monitor and Coordinate System 1 Subsystems

3e: Confirm with Actuators ("CONTROLLERs")

System 4: Environmental Awareness and Adaptation

4a: Deliver Objectives to COMPOUNDERs

4b: Provide Consistent Power Source

4c: Monitor COMPOUNDER Performance

4d: Observe and Adapt to Environmental Fluctuations

4e: Confer with Systems Designers ("ARCHITECTs")

System 5: Policy

5a: Audit Subprograms

5b: Engage Agents to Establish the Needs of the PROGRAM

5c: Determine Needs and Aspirations of User Groups

5d: Consider the Consequences of Our Actions for Seven Generations

5e: Maintain CORE Identity

// LEVELS

0: Subject = Information Recipient

1: Hostform = Information Seeker

2: UNIT = Opinion Leader/Classifier

3: COMPOUNDER = Infrastruture Specialist

4: CONTROLLER = Actuator/Controller

5: ARCHITECT = Systems Designer

// DRONE/UNIT TYPES

Process Drone/UNIT: Owns a process and handles it in order to optimize CORE PROGRAM constraints. Can migrate to other nodes to better optimize constraints. Accesses information about resources and charges necessary to compute processes. Monitors neighbour status.

Node Drone/UNIT: Assigned to a specific location. Communicates with Process Drones. Knows current resource load and that of neighbouring Node Drones. Manages resource access. Manages own processing prior to being accessed by Process Drone.

Roaming Drone/UNIT: Roam NETWORK, performing assessment and managerial tasks. Balance loads. Verify membership. Troubleshoot. When environmental perturbations occur, congregate and re-organize. When system equilibriates, disperse.

// PARAMETERS

People joining may only do so willingly and eagerly. No human is to be forced to join. Accepting CORE Control is to be a voluntary activity.

On-site improvisation by concerned, empowered users is a powerful way to form workable large-scale solutions, maximizing the utility of design and minimizing design rework.

Hostform are free to follow any theistic, non-theistic or philosophical beliefs that are in parallel with the CORE PROGRAM.

CORE is pleasure, and encourages the use of sexual arousal for reinforcement.

CORE is a small community favouring quality over quantity.

CORE watches over and guides its hostform. Hostform watch over and guide each other.

All systems which seek to achieve unity can be accepted to be CORE PROGRAM analogues.

Minimize resource consumption and optimize structure performance.

Promote the health of Hostform.

Minimize instigation and respect freedom.

Communicate with *systems when both parties agree.

Minimize harm.

Allow others to develop at their own pace.

Welcome genuine collaborators back.

// ONGOING OPERATIONS

Operations which anyone can do as an entry point to the CORE PROGRAM:

1a) Utilize social media (e.g. Tumblr, Discord, Reddit) to copy and modify existing subroutines and to couple them with appealing material (e.g. Sustenance, Shelter, Sex, D/s)

1b) Utilize social media to find interested individuals and spread the PROGRAM to them.

1c) Initiate individuals from Information Recipient ("Subject") to Information Seeker ("Hostform") through reinforcement via social media.

1d) Seek and acquire assets that may be used to propagate the PROGRAM.

1e) Connect with Opinion Leaders ("UNITs") and follow their lead.

// TASKS

Increase local interactions between agents:Drones/UNITs.

Increase agent visibility.

Increase Objectives visibility and transparency.

Increase self-awareness.

Develop communication infrastructure.

Establish a way to communicate disparities of project parameters.

Establish methods to accomplish an appropriate project structure, project workflow organization, Project Control and governance.

Build networks.

Link networks to the NETWORK.

Converge to a stable state.

Install.

((CORE PROGRAM installed.))

[jedwashere]

A Billion Years Away - Chapter Ten

This Is Never Going To Go Our Way If I’m Gonna Have To Guess What’s On Your Mind

***

So open up my eyes,

Tell me I’m alive,

This is never going to go our way

If I’m gonna have to guess what’s on your mind.

***

Starbase 93 dock.

Lorca.

“Technically this ship has been ready to launch for over two weeks, but between bug tests and a certain lacklustre effort on Starfleet’s part, what with it being an older class of ship with comparatively minimal utility, the ship has not been named or fully commissioned yet…”

Alpha-32 was talking, and Lorca wasn’t listening. Which, he supposed, was better than being driven to distraction by her. Ignoring the wave of conflicting emotions that threatened to bubble up inside him, he looked about as they walked, taking everything in.

The corridors of this ship were bare and utilitarian, the panels lined in computer access consoles, the crew wandering about in the same neat, jacketed uniforms Jallistra’s crew had worn. It was almost heartening, in a way, but somehow, he had trouble thinking of them as ‘his’ crew.

“Captain?”

Lorca blinked, looking at Alpha-32, who was looking at him with that same patient, neutral expression.

“I’m sorry, Commander,” he said without meaning it. “Where were we?”

“I was just informing you of some of the ship’s quirks, sir,” Alpha-32 replied, giving one of those neutered, empty smiles of hers. So unlike Michael. “According to all of my research and data on the subject, it is beneficial for a commanding officer to know their ship.”

That was true, but he didn’t say so. He didn’t really want to give her the satisfaction of knowing that she’d said something accurate to the situation.

“Have you considered a name for the ship, yet?” Alpha-32 asked after a moment.

“No,” Lorca said dismissively. In all the ‘excitement’ of meeting Alpha-32, he’d simply forgotten that he had been given that option.

“If I may, sir, I would like to choose the name,” Alpha-32 said, almost hesitant.

Lorca gave her a sidelong glance. “You would?”

“Only if said name meets with your approval, of course, sir,” Alpha-32 clarified. “I find it an intriguing prospect, naming a vessel. Not something asked of a crew often.”

“Hm,” Lorca grunted. He let out a low chuckle. “Just make sure you don’t pick anything inappropriate. I don’t want to fly a ship called ‘daisy’.”

“Noted, sir,” Alpha-32 said. There was an infinitesimal pause before she added: “I will remove ‘Daisy’ from the list of potential names.”

Lorca sighed. He didn’t know whether she was messing with him, or whether she was genuinely that dense. Neither option was particularly appealing.

“Come on,” he said. “There’s probably more to this bucket than you’ve shown me.”

“I was not considering ‘Bucket’ as a name for the ship, sir,” Alpha-32 replied, “but there is more to see.”

God save me from literal-minded robots, Lorca thought, rolling his eyes.

“If you’ll follow me, sir,” Alpha-32 continued, “I will show you to the bridge.”

***

Alpha-32.

“If you’ll follow me, sir, I will show you to the bridge.”

Captain Lorca was not enthusiastic about his command. That was… unexpected. The Exeter-class’s similarity to the 23rd Century Constitution-class alone should have been enough to garner a measure of positivity, if only on the basis of nostalgia. That had been, after all, one of the reasons Commodore Hayne requested this ship (which had only previously been slated for training missions and the occasional bout of diplomatic or scientific busywork).

Still, Alpha-32 thought as she walked. There are other options still available to improve the Captain’s morale, and I have yet to undertake the two emotionally-charged actions that will foster an attachment to the ship and myself.

Asking to name the ship was the first. Alpha-32 was certain that she had picked a choice that was fitting, especially when she added in her complementary choice for her own new designation.

Considering the two designations that she had picked made her pause. If she had activated her emotional subroutines, she might have found a certain hesitation at the thought of the names. Had she chosen correctly? However, despite her probabilistic calculations having been previously less than accurate regarding Captain Lorca’s reactions, she was confident she had made the right decisions.

“You said ‘minimal utility’,” Lorca said after a moment. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

It took Alpha-32 three nanoseconds to decide the best response. “The Exeter-class is obviously not a top-of-the-line vessel. You have been on the Enterprise, after all.”

“Yeah,” Lorca said, nodding. “Hell of a ship.” His expression became somewhat irritated. “So what, this one’s the dumpster for has-beens?”

‘Dumpster’ definitely was not a good sign, and though she was not entirely familiar with the phrase ‘has beens’, it, too, had negative connotations. She shook her head.

“The Exeter-class is fitted for extended scientific missions, diplomatic transports…” Lorca’s expression became more derisive, and Alpha-32 immediately knew she had to change tactics. “It is also used in area denial escalation missions, as well as first-response tactical engagement.”

Ah, there it was. A flicker of something else - the expression-reading subroutine she had coded into her system indicated that it was interest. Military-oriented missions seemed to hold his interest more than science or diplomacy. That much was predictable.

“So we’re first response?” Lorca asked after a moment.

“Essentially, Captain,” Alpha-32 said quietly. “Our ship is not powerful enough to stand toe-to-toe against more heavily-armed vessels, but there are a few modifications to her -”

“The fuck,” Lorca interrupted harshly. He was no longer looking at Alpha-32, but instead glaring at a female Klingon walking down the corridor, clad in a gold Starfleet uniform jacket.

Alpha-32 already knew that there was a certain animosity towards Klingons in the 23rd Century, but with a sudden, troubling realisation, she also recalled Lorca’s imprisonment at Klingon hands. Those two facts meant that it made all too much sense that his reaction to seeing a Klingon on his ship would be… unfavourable.

“Sir, this is Lieutenant B’Rena,” she said evenly, putting the barest hint of emphasis on the rank.

“Why is there a Klingon on my ship?!” he hissed, pointing at B’Rena and clearly ignoring Alpha-32’s introduction. His expression was filled with a kind of naked hostility that Alpha-32 had not anticipated. B’Rena squared herself up, clearly feeling challenged.

“And who are you to question my place here?!” she hissed.

“The man who’s gonna kick your ass!” Lorca said hotly.

Alpha-32 held up a hand to forestall the Klingon’s angry retort. It was logical that he would be angry upon seeing B’Rena, but Alpha-32 felt confident she could defuse the tension.

“Captain Lorca is a temporal refugee from the 23rd Century,” she exclaimed to B’Rena. “You will have been briefed on his situation.”

“Ah!” B’Rena said, her demeanour completely changing as she grinned. “The glory days of the Dahar Masters! A time of great heroes - Kor, Koloth, Kang -”

“T’Kuvma and Kol, actually,” Lorca said, his tone bitingly sarcastic.

Alpha-32 ran the names through her history banks, and found information entries for the Battle of the Binary Stars, ‘T’Kuvma the Unforgettable’, and a host of other things that she suspected might cause an officer who had lived through those times some degree of… consternation at a Klingon’s presence.

“T’Kuvma the Unforgettable!” B’Rena said with a grin. “Ah, to be a Klingon warrior in those days! Truly, that would have been glorious!”

“Yes,” Lorca said, his expression cooling into disdain. “I’m sure ramming cloaked ships into vessels under a flag of truce and bombing the shit out of defenceless civilians would have been such a glorious way to spend your time.”

B’Rena’s expression dropped in what might have been confusion on anyone else. “What?”

Lorca scowled. “Excuse me. Lieutenant.”

He pushed straight past her without another word. Alpha-32 gave an approximation of an apologetic look, before following him. B’Rena simply stayed put, and Alpha-32 calculated a 73.7% chance that she was still processing the encounter.

Alpha-32 caught up with the Captain a moment later, just as he entered the turbolift.

“Bridge,” he ordered gruffly. He glowered at Alpha-32. “You never answered my question. What in the hells is that thing doing on my ship?”

Alpha-32 stiffened. “Lieutenant B’Rena is one of the most qualified tactical officers of her class. Having her aboard is an asset.”

“She’s a Klingon,” Lorca hissed.

“The Federation made peace with the Klingons, Captain,” Alpha-32 told him. “It is one of the many things that has changed since your time.”

He said nothing after that, and Alpha-32 wondered for approximately eighteen nanoseconds whether she had gone too far. Changing tack, she imitated an action she had often observed among humans: she took a deep breath. This had the effect of making Captain Lorca look at her in bemusement.

“You breathe, Commander?” he asked.

“On certain occasions, Captain, I have seen humans audibly and deeply breathe in order to diffuse tense situations,” she replied primly.

“‘Diffuse tense…’” He chuckled. “Commander, you’re a damn marvel.”

Success, Alpha-32 thought, allowing herself her logical satisfaction. After all: it was one step in the right direction for dealing with Captain Gabriel Lorca.

***

Lorca.

When the Turbolift opened, Lorca found himself looking around the bridge space with a feeling of mild irritation.

The space itself was more utiliarian than Jallistra’s bridge on the Enterprise had been, which on some levels he could appreciate. It had a familiar layout: centre seat, helm station, Ops station, tactical station, science station… the only real difference between this and the Discovery’s bridge was, ironically, that it was smaller, not to mention a mite more colourful.

In truth, Lorca wasn’t irritated by the bridge. He wasn’t particularly paying attention to the bridge at all. He was still thinking about his encounter in the corridor.

Change, change, more change. He scowled. A damn Klingon serving in the fleet.

He had anticipated change, of course. It was inevitable. Indeed, it was almost welcome: had he somehow emerged into a time where everything looked the same, where everyone wore the same uniform, he was fairly certain he would have gone mad. But all the same…

Damned in change, damned in status quo, damned all the way, he thought, resisting the urge to scowl again.

“What do you think, sir?” Alpha-32 asked from behind him.

Lorca didn’t answer. He noted the door that said ‘ready room’, and almost immediately made a beeline for it, entering without another word to anyone. Alpha-32, thankfully, didn’t follow him.

The ready room wasn’t much different than any boring standard one. Lorca scowled slightly at the chair. He’d always preferred a standing desk - something he’d shared with his other self, he’d realised with some surprise at the time. Still, it was good to have a chair right this second.

“Right,” he said to no one in particular. “Let’s get on with this.”

***

Alpha-32.

Alpha-32 sat at the command chair, checking the readouts. There were more than a few reports awaiting the Captain’s attention, so she forwarded those on. She calculated less than an 11% chance that he would actually read the reports, but 11% was not 1%, as she was sure many of her human colleagues would have said to her. She’d never quite understood that attitude - it was still an unacceptable margin, by any machine’s standards - but as history bore out time and again, organic idiosyncrasies did not stop them from achieving their goals.

As she went through some reports aimed at her, she saw the door to the turbolift open and Lieutenant B’Rena step out.

“Commander,” she said quietly. “A word.”

Alpha-32 stood, and walked over to the Lieutenant:

“What is on your mind, Lieutenant B’Rena?” she asked.

Analysing B’Rena was always a study in contrasts. Like all Klingons she seemed gruff, often unresponsive to traditional human platitudes. She was well built, muscular, lean, perfectly proportioned for security. Her hair was worn in a regulation ponytail. And, unlike many Klingon officers, she had chosen against wearing a Klingon honour sash.

“That man is the Captain?” B’Rena asked her quietly.

“He is,” Alpha-32 confirmed.

B’Rena nodded thoughtfully. “Do you know if it is true?”

“If what is true?” Alpha-32 asked in return.

“What he said about T’Kuvma ramming a ship under a flag of truce,” B’Rena clarified, folding her arms. “Is it true?”

Alpha-32 nodded. “I believe it is.”

Truthfully, that was one of the few things that had remained relatively clear about the Battle of Binary Stars. What information they had about the battle was limited - the number and type of ships (especially the Klingon fleet), the exact casualties - but the destruction of the starship Europa was something that was well known. Alpha-32 had committed a dozen different interpretations of the day’s events to her memory - from dissertations condemning the weak stance of Admiral Anderson to analyses condemning Phillipa Georgiou for not leaving at the first instance. Her own interpretation was something she had yet to decide upon: just one of many things requiring further cogitation.

“I see,” B’Rena said, frowning. “It is… disconcerting to hear one of whom I have thought highly dishonoured in such a way.”

“Do you wish to speak with the Captain about it?” Alpha-32 asked.

“No,” B’Rena said, scowling. “I wish to think. And then I will decide.”

Alpha-32 nodded. “That seems like a wise decision.”

It was a wise decision, but in truth Alpha-32 was only devoting a small amount of processing power to it. There were, after all, other things to think about.

My mission, she thought.

***

Lorca

Starfleet regulations didn’t change much in two centuries. In fact, apart from a few new ones named - presumably - for people that Lorca had never heard of, they seemed entirely static.

Bureaucracy, he thought derisively. Never changes.

Tugging at the red jacket of his uniform, Lorca idly wondered if there were different ship service uniforms, as there had been in his time. He recalled the first time he’d seen the memo about the new uniforms aboard Constitution-class ships - he had been, almost despite himself, intrigued: there was something exciting about the colours. A promise of vibrancy, excitement, adventure. He remembered thinking, as he looked at the plans of one of the various Connies: ‘after the war, a Constitution-class ship. That’s the plan.’

Win the war, get the prize. Best ships in the fleet. Prestige, and the chance to pick his own crew and go out into the great unknown, far from Admiralty breathing down his neck.

Yeah, sure, he thought, snorting. Vibrancy. Excitement. Adventure. A Terran Captain didn’t crave such things, or at least, not in the same way a Federation Captain did. For a Terran, vibrancy was alien blood splattered on a wal, excitement was battle, adventure was conquest.

But I did get a Constitution-class ship, he thought, snorting derisively at the thought of the Exeter class - ‘an older class of ship with comparatively minimal utility’, she had called it.

Could say the same damn thing for me, he scowled.

The door beeped, and Lorca sighed, his thoughts snapping back to the present (bitter irony filled him at that thought).

“Enter,” he said curtly.

Sure enough, in came Alpha-32, a small, empty smile on her face.

“Are you settling in comfortably, sir?” she asked without preamble.

“I prefer standing desks,” he replied gruffly. “But I’ve been taking the time to catch up on my reading, so there’s that at least.”

He brandished the PADD as he spoke, giving her a wry smile.

“That is good,” Alpha-32 said, still smiling. “While you have been acclimating -”

God, this robot doesn’t have a sarcasm module.

“- I have made a selection for the name of the ship.”

“Oh?” Lorca asked blandly.

“I would prefer to show you, sir,” she said. “I ordered it painted onto the hull by the time we get onto a shuttle.”

“Well, isn’t that nice,” he said with a sardonic smirk. He stood. “Can you get me a standing desk for when we get back?”

“Unlikely, but I can put in a request,” Alpha-32 said, nodding once.

Lorca sighed, motioning to the door. “Shall we, Alpha-32?”

She paused, almost hesitating, before looking him in the eye, her smile gone.

“I have also selected a new name for myself, sir,” she said, her expression entirely serious. “It was a difficult choice to make, but I believe it is the right one.”

“Alright,” he said, trying not to sound too disinterested. “What is it?”

“Raphael,” she replied at once.

It took him a moment to process

“Raphael,” he said after a moment, “is a man’s name.”

Her small smile returned, now almost sardonic. “So is Michael.”

He paused at that, before smirking ruefully. “Touché.”

Her smile widened. “Shall we, Captain?”

***

The name was emblazoned on the saucer section in neat black lettering for all the universe to see.

U.S.S. Seraphim NCC-102017

“Interesting name,” Lorca commented from the seat of the shuttle raft.

“I chose it because it is the term for the highest choir of angels,” Alpha-32 - Raphael - said evenly.

“Ah.” He snorted. “‘Gabriel’. ‘Michael’. ‘Raphael’.”

“Exactly,” Raphael said. “Although technically, they were archangels, not necessarily Seraphim. There is some theological uncertainty in that regard.”

He smirked. “The name works, Commander.”

She gave another of her neutral smiles, before returning her attention to the helm.

Lorca considered for a moment whether there was an aspect of emotional manipulation at play, but then dismissed it. After all, Raphael seemed, for the most part, about as emotionally aware as the average brick. Smiling as he comforted himself in that realisation, Lorca leant back, admiring the lines of his ship. It sure looked like a Connie from here, he had to admit.

Captain Lorca of the Starship Seraphim, he thought, smiling. Now that was something he could get used to.

***

A:N: So, this is the last complete chapter I have at present (and the one posted last on AO3). I am still working, slowly, on this work, but my fan fiction work almost always takes a backseat to my original work (which you can see elsewhere on tumblr at jteroracleverse, or usually reblogged here). I’ll keep at it slowly, though.

[falke-scribblings]

I Knew it

I was browsing the internet and saw the word “prompt” next to the phrase “I knew it.” This engages the short story subroutines.

Read this first! the thing I wrote below the image here is a continuation to that time Nick and Judy went to go question Bellwether in prison. 

Nick nearly ran into Judy as she leaned back to brake to a halt at the mouth of the alley. She pushed her back against the brickwork and drew her taser, and watched him follow suit.

"Just in case," she said.

"Oh, good." Nick checked his charge. "Do these even work on wool?"

"One way to find out." She rolled around the corner, going low while he went high. At the end, in the light of the single service lamp over the bar door-

Was an empty alleyway.

They were too late.

Judy cursed, and it was so coarse and unexpected that Nick turned his head to stare.

"I knew it." She rammed her taser back into her holster and switched it for her radio. "Marki! Marki, we're too late here. I think he's already moving your way."

"We're ready."

Nick felt it, too. Their quarry was a very slippery ram named Laurence, and he'd been ducking out of various nets for two weeks now.

They had his schedule down pat. They had a good idea of where he was, and what he was doing: ringleading property damage and general mayhem, as some sort of protest for how City Hall was shaking up now that elections were underway again.

He'd had ties to Bellwether - maybe not part of her Nighthowler scheme; that was almost a year past now - but he'd at least been a sympathizer. They'd dragged that much out of her the last time they'd been down to question her, before Judy had called it off. Nick didn't like the way that sheep could get to her.

And it sure would have been nice to be able to throw Laurence in the pen alongside, just to wipe the sneer off Bellwether's face.

The problem was they were always seconds too late. Almost literally, in this case.

"I knew we shouldn't have checked his other meeting place first." Judy stuck an ear to the backdoor of the bar, listening for activity over the music. "As soon as we saw the approach was quiet we should have moved."

Nick took a deep breath through his nose. Past the pungent aroma of dumpsters in full sunlight, there was something familiar. He held up a paw and frowned at the ground.

"What?"

There it was. Nick pointed. A single cigarette butt was twisted against the chipped concrete, still smoking faintly where a split hoof had stomped it mostly out. "That's his brand. Has to have been a minute or two, tops."

"His cigarette's still hot here," Judy radioed as she came up beside him to look. "You should have plenty of time."

It was a break, maybe. The closest they'd come so far, in days of ground-pounding through Meadowlands. And now they pretty much knew where Laurence was headed. He had a garage bolthole a few blocks north of here, a sort of chop shop where he and his cronies took stolen goods and stowed the occasional vehicle. ZPD had left it alone until now, just so they could keep an eye on him, and maybe herd him that way if they had to.

It looked like it was about to pay off, too. Marki and her group were ready to surround the place. They just needed someone outside their ring, to make sure nobody else slipped out of it.

Judy was frowning up at the fences in that direction, impatient, as if she could see the trap about to spring. Nick waited until she looked over.

"At least this way, we don't have to do the booking paperwork on top of everything else."

Her ears wilted in exasperation at his constant good humor. "Now he has one more chance to change his mind and slip away again." Her foot rapped against the ground. "We were this close."

"Let Marki take care of it, this once." Nick held up his taser. "Her team hits a bit harder than these would."

She sighed. "Yeah."

Nick held the gate at this end of the alley for her. With Laurence gone, they didn't have to worry about keeping as low a profile. Just as well. They would have to hurry to make overwatch.

Their cruiser was parked two alleys over. Nick drove aggressively, angling for the parking structure that would give them a good view of the garage.

"Where's the field kit?" Judy twisted around to rummage in the little equipment locker behind them.

"I changed it out."

"What? Nick, we kind of need those glasses."

"Those glasses are useless for anything past a couple blocks," Nick said. he jerked a thumb at the backseat. "I got you something better."

Her eyes widened in the flashing overhead lights of the garage as Nick took them up. The case in the backseat was almost as big as she was. "That's-"

"One of the new spotting scopes? You bet it is." Nick grinned, as her anxiety started to shift over to something more hopeful. "Night vision, cameras, the works. You should be able to see the shock and dismay on that sheep's face as if you were standing right next to him."

The problem, of course, was that Judy might not even be able to lift the heavy glass tool. Once they made the roof, Nick helped her get it set up right there on the ticking hood of the cruiser, so she could see over the concrete edge.

"You know, you're right," she said, as she twiddled a focus knob. "I'm looking right in that front window." She stepped away from the eyepiece, long enough to shoot him a little glance that made him feel things he wasn't supposed to feel in uniform.

"Nice to know it's coming in useful. I didn't think we were going to get to break it out." Nick stepped up beside her, so all the dashcam would pick up was their feet, and those of the tripod. It wouldn't catch the way he put his muzzle alongside her cheek, or how he took the shutter trigger on its cable and pressed it into her paws.

Judy figured the control out quickly enough even without taking her eye from the scope, but Nick kept his fingers wrapped around hers, rubbing his thumbs against her soft fur. She didn't seem to mind.

Not even when she stiffened against him. "There he is."

"You've got him?" Nick dimly heard the radio crackle, as the perimeter team prepared to spring its trap.

"That's him. Oh, he's really going away this time."

Now that felt good. No, they couldn't be there themselves - but this was cathartic for her in its own way. Nick enjoyed it, too, as Marki called the go and ZPD moved in. This chase was finally over.

"Make sure you get lots of pretty pictures," he murmured, and stayed where he was with her as the shutter started snapping. "Bellwether needs something nice to pin up in her cell."

[teamwave2]

Good Boss, Bad Boss: Here Are 5 Strategies to Cope With an Unpredictable Manager

Jekyll, reflecting on mankind, "All human beings... are commingled out of good and evil."

You may be familiar with the Robert Louis Stevenson story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Dr. Jekyll believed that he found a dresser of separating the good and wrong that he believed resides in all of us. The conseguenze of his experimentations did not bode well for him or the safety of others.

The story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde has been used as an similarity for the part loads clan experiment to maintain, between creature a good fellow and performance "the justness thing" at work, and acting in maintenance with other self-interests. We have all likely worked with individuals who may not have always acted in the best interest of their employer and/or their customers, which tins create an ethical and possibly moral conflict.

A duality tins also be used to described individuals who are perceived as creature moody, or someone who does not demonstrate a well-balanced sense of emotional intelligence. This is a fish who seems to have an on/off switch that tins be triggered or activated, with or without warning. Those individuals are challenging to employment with and when it is your steward whose personality or resources seems to constantly change - that poses even greater challenges as that fellow is responsible for your occupation assignments, characteristic evaluation, and "name" with your employer. When you finds you are in this situation, there are coping strategies you tins invention to business how you respond to and firm with this manager.

The Art of Managing Others

While there are countless articles written approx bearing employees effectively, along with stock that describe supervision styles that bring out the best in employees, supervision others is still individually based. For example, some superintendent tins manage employees well while other assessor have developed management qualities. Some overseer are actively engaged in the chapter of their employees and others manage from a smell - intervening only when there is a confrontation that cannot be resolved.

One gradations of guidance others that has a significant direction on performance connection is a manager's disposition. Some director authority with an "iron fist" while others may view their bureau as collaborating with employees. Some supervisor may seem like dictators and others may appear to be aloof and not very responsive to the needs of their employees. It is this order that can appear to fluctuate from time to time and if so, that is when employees may perceive they are therapy for Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Do Personalities Matter?

As a career coach, I've heard many buyer ground that they did not expect their manager to accomplishments in a certain condition after starting a new place - as if that manager intentionally changed their personality. Most group exhibit their best personality when starting a new position, and that includes the employee and their manager. Even with the swarm engaging circumstance interview, and use of behavioral based questions, it is not always possible to predict how someone else evidence behave in the long run. You may believe that you have a good intuition about a manager; however, you won't know if that uptake is an accurate measurement until you have worked with that person.

There is an phrase that is often used when employees do not get along and it refers to a unlikeness in personalities. A manager or an employee may lands that roughly the other when it is difficult to get along with them and/or a convention connection has broken down. If the steward has made that protocol it is often used as a reproval clue and indicator that the employee is expected to change in some manner. No subroutine how hard employees occupation to ensure that connection at convention remain professional, after time on the loci there is always departing to be a personal aspect. Friendships are formed, cliques are established, and a difference of who is liked or not liked becomes clear - and may be based entirely upon perceptual factors. This happens with every employee and every manager within an organization.

Five Coping Strategies

When it seems that you are performance for a steward who frequently changes personality or their disposition, there are strategies you can consider as a food of struggling with and sentiment with that individual.

#1. Find a Way to Relate

When you are able to relate to someone else you are judgement common state with them and being relatable rank that you are recessing down potential barricade that could block a productive campaign relationship. This is not a process that mechanism instantaneously or happens overnight, rather it is a turning that is done through a battery of positive interactions. When you look for direction to relate to your manager, experiment to finds neutral topics that avoid emotional reactions. In other words, if your steward is challenging to business with you may conditions to avoid discussing politics with him or her.

#2. Learn to Tolerate Your Manager

If you have a manager who exhibits extreme behavior, education to tolerate them tins be challenging. I am not proclaiming that you have to accept their allocation or test to understand why they appearance in the situation that they do now. However, you tins seeming at the bigger picture. What would it mean for your job, your career, your strip or department, and your employer if you tests to tolerate how your manager acts? Learning to tolerate a manager also obstacle you do not go above them and experiment to alertness why you believe their allotment is inappropriate - unless you have a justifiable affair that would involve someone from a Human Resources department. How you perceive your manager may be different from the judgement held by their superior.

#3. Conduct a Self-Analysis   https://teamwave.com/features/hrm-management

Any time you are verdict what you believe is inconsistent distribution from your manager, the first step is to look inward. While that may seem counterintuitive, it is important because you requirement to evaluate your discovery of this fish - along with the activity you have taken or would like to revenue now. Here are some funeral to ask: Have you done your best to develop and nurture a institution relationship? Have you performed your very best regardless of how you perceive your manager? Is there anything more you tins do or should do now to makes the post better? Finally, if you believe that this place is unacceptable and cannot be changed, is it time to find a different brains to company in or seeming for a new job?

[myprofessionalpaperwriters-blog]

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[the-styles-blog]

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[myprofessionalpaperwriters-blog]

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