“I have access to plenty of rations, so there's no worry about that. But air, power, and water are things that'll be lacking until we can crack a couple of icy asteroids in the belt and get them processed. I want to use your shelter for that, unless we can find a way to do it up here. The manpower would go a long way to helping us all out.”
“Aaaah. I'll see what I can do, Archon Station. We've basically been sitting around dumb and stupid for the last five hundred years, since the surface is a major no-go. We use a thermopile drilled into Drune's mantle for power, so we have enough to spare, on that angle. As for water, we drain up ground water, but that's been slowly drying up over the last hundred years or so, and the decontamination process is extensive to make it usable.
“Personnel shouldn't be a problem. While no one down here is used to space anymore, we all desire to see the stars again. You bring us materials, and you'll have all the workers you want. Once you get down here, we'll register Archon Station as your own salvage, too. Just... get us out of this mess, okay?”
“Roger that, Site Prime. I'm not going to be able to do it all on my own; so it will have to be a group effort. But I'll be heading that way in a handful of hours. The trip from the station is going to take a while, rough estimation is fifteen hours.”
“ETA 15 hours, gotcha. I'll get things rolling down here, Archon Station. Let us know if anything else comes up.”
The radio goes off to static as the signal dies, and I give a soft sigh after turning it off. It seems things are getting bigger. But no one ever said that life was always fun or fair.
Still, it brings a grin to my lips. This is the sort of thing I enjoy. The burning need and desire! Putting everything I have into simply living! And it doesn't even involve combat. But it is still a war. A war against fate. Against the harshest of conditions imaginable.
This is war of survival of the fittest! And it doesn't even require all that much brawn to do it. There's a reason why our prehistoric ancestors spread out and conquered nature itself in order to survive. Not by being meaner or stronger or faster. But by being smarter.
By using tools, making things, and learning about the world.
Learning and understanding the enemy in order to control its reactions and eventually beat it into submission!
And space is the pentacle of that sort of war! The smart ones survive, and all others are pushed to the wayside.
It’s a war that every man, woman, and child has to face up to should they choose to live in space. There are no other options. A single wrong move can spell instant death for an individual in space. Even worse, a mistake can end up killing others as well. Friendly fire is definitely possible, in a variety of ways.
It’s the sort of thing I crave. To prove to myself and everyone else, to the Universe itself, that I have what it takes, regardless of the obstacles in my path.
To me, this is heaven. That's all there is to it.
I have work to do though, so shutting down the tug again, I get to it. I get out of the Tug's airlock and toss myself back into the hold. Now that I have a plan, I need to gather supplies.
That'll be a time consuming process by myself though, so I pull out the drones I'd grabbed earlier. Their footprint is small enough to be stashed inside my inventory, but their batteries are dead. I go to the capsule and plug them in inside, so as to not draw any more power from Bub.
I have to fiddle with them a bit though to figure out how to get them to open once they've started charging. They basically fold out into slim, thin droids.
Four and a half feet tall, they are curved and smooth; their outer shells painted a slight off-white. Their main components are in the chest, with all the sensors and the like mounted in the head. Their faces are a slightly convex monitor, and they have a drop-down keyboard in the chest cavity.
Complete with two arms and legs, they seem to be simple bots in a short human shape.
I start one of them up, and its face-screen starts scrolling through coding like a computer monitor. I pull out the keyboard and start browsing through its programming. It doesn't seem to have any sort of installed equipment, at least externally, so I don't have a clue as to what their purpose is.
I gotta look at it myself.
What I find makes me grin. They're autonomous worker bots. Hauling, scanning, storage and inventory work. The sort of simple, multi-purpose robots that any factory owner would drool about having in a busy warehouse.
I just got two of them, and in good condition too. They're built to work in all sorts of conditions, including zero-g. They have built-in positional thrusters and magnetic components in their arms and legs. They are perfect!
The only downside is that my cobbled-together infrastructure doesn't have what they require to operate as it stands. I browse through the coding and grimace. Yeah, it’s that bad.
Wireless connection to a controller mainframe and inventory systems. Recharge and maintenance bays. They require either direct supervision or automated orders. Damn!
I'll just have to work around it. I start by copying the command routines already in place within the bots and then move to the capsules computer. From there, I upload it and start editing the raw code. It’s a bit of a hassle. A whole bunch of if/then and if/then/else statements . Thousands and thousands of lines.
I do away with most of it, since it doesn't apply to this case. What I need it to do is move crates and supplies to and from designated points and sort and inventory newly found goods. Thankfully what is likely to be found on the station and mined from asteroids or gathered from the planet are already listed in the bots databases. So there's no need to put in all of that manually.
Then I have to basically write the maintenance and recharging commands by hand. I want them to plug into the external fueling hatch in the escape capsule when they start running low on power, interrupting the previous sequence of commands and then pick up right where they left off. I also go ahead and authorize myself as the sole user and owner, and give my voice commands priority after linking them to my suits comm unit.
I also code in a program and a database for the inventory, to be stored and updated in the capsule's computer with periodical updates. It should take only seconds, and once I get things going I'll be able to check the updated list wirelessly. Once I cobble together a Wi-Fi node, though. I don't bother with doing that now.
I just need to get them functional. I do go ahead and upload my salvage list into the newly built database, and then copy and upload the code into the bots themselves. There. Everything I've uncovered and claimed since I started out in the station is now properly inventoried and available.
All that's left is to run a final software check to make sure it meshes well with the bots' hardware without any faults, and then turn these bad boys on!
Oh. I also give them names. Bot 1 and Bot 2. Not very original, but functionality and practicality takes precedence out here in space. I also make sure they display the numbers up on their monitors; about where the forehead would be. They are able to recognize when they are called, so it's all good.
That's a nifty ease-of-use bit of programming there. Haha. They are smart enough to recognize when they are being called and accept verbal orders.
There, done.
I turn them on and wait for their internal systems to start up and run their own internal diagnostic checks. Their monitors rapidly flash through the coding and programming and then disappears, leaving behind digital-looking O's for eyes and a slight smiley face mouth, with 1 and 2 on their foreheads.
Perfect. Now for a test.
“Bot 1, Bot 2, charge to 50% then follow me.”
I give simple instructions, and the bots register the commands with an ! Icon that appears on their faces before they both respond.
“Commands accepted. ETA to 50% charge is twelve minutes.” The bots even speak out in unison, although their electronic voices aren't all that different from other machines.
Good, good. I nod and then exit the capsule, le
aving the hatch open for now. There's no reason to close it, given that there isn't any atmosphere in it currently. I really am going to have to build an airlock to rectify that. Especially if people actually start living in it.
Now that I have those two helpers, the amount of work I can do will increase. I go ahead and bounce myself over to some of the crates I've already marked, and pull up the repair list as I start going through what I need to bring.
Crates of metal parts, mechanical parts, electronics, metal plating. I start tugging them over to the hole in the hull, which is big enough to push them through. All the crates are a standardized size, although their mass and weight are different depending upon what is stored inside of them. But because they were sealed, everything inside of them is pristine and in good working order.
I move four of them by the time the bots are charged, and I stop near the hole and the stack of crates there as I watch them.
Their movements are smooth and fluid, obviously using magnetic boots and their thrusters to move around in the zero-gravity conditions. I hadn't touched any of those controls, so they work as intended. It’s a very efficient way of going about it.
I find myself grinning at watching something so simple.
But it just goes to show how shit can go when properly made! Mwhahaha.
Good, good. Very good.
“Bot 1, stay here and load these crates into the Mining Tug's hold as they are delivered. Bot 2, come with me and move these targeted crates to this point.”
Now a time for a real test. Both the bots once more show the ! Icon, then agree with short verbal words broadcast over my comm unit.
The work picks up then. The bots are able to lift and move the crates much more quickly than I am by hand. I have to use my telekinesis in a lot of cases in order to keep up! Their motions are fluid, and they are smart enough not to get in each others or my way. Hurray! Success.
It takes a far shorter time than I thought to finish the loading, as well.
Afterwards they stand there, waiting for more instructions. Hm. I really should have them busy while I'm gone. I'll be gone for more than a day, at the least. Hm.
“Bot 1, Bot 2, organize the hold here. Then start searching all the compartments within a mile radius of this room. Any useable materials or machines that can be repaired into working order are to be brought here for inventory and storage. Mark any such as salvage under my name.”
I give them several blanket orders, and once again the ! Icons appear. But this time they take far longer to update their command lists.
““Order accepted. Organize the primary hold. Search and scan all compartments within a mile radius of primary hold. Mark as salvage any materials or machines found that can be moved and repaired to viability. Authorization required to permit use of tools to access potential inaccessible compartments.””
The bots speak almost at the same time, and I nod in delight. Hehehe. Awesome!
“Authorization granted.”
That's easy enough. Even if they have to cut their way in, assuming they have the tools, it'd just save time later should we have to do so anyway.
I'm not too worried about cutting up the station. It’s so massive that the damage to be repaired is already a breathtaking bit of work. I have no delusions that it won't take a whole lot of time, effort, and manpower.
The bots register the permission, turn and walk off, each going their separate ways to do the work. I'm not sure how fast they'll get it done; but it doesn't really matter at this point. I turn and toss myself out of the hold and back into space.
Ah. I never can quite control myself whenever I see the wheeling stars while outside.
But I cannot stay out in space for too long, and instead grab hold of the Tug's hull and unplug the power cable that I just leave hanging in space, then work my way back into the airlock. Quickly dipping inside, I make my way up to the cockpit and start up the tug once more.
Away we go!
Well, not really. I check on everything first. Fuel, good. Batteries charged to 89%, awesome. Gravity and life support, good to go! Woo!
I turn on the engines and start piloting the tug away from the station slowly, even going so far as to wave. Bye, home! I'll be back soon! Haha.
Then I pilot the tug downward, and use the system chart to plot a course to Drune. I still don't bother with the autopilot though. Instead, I kick the tug into high gear and go zooming off as the engines fire. Yeah! Now we're going!
I can feel the g-forces building on my body, but I grin like an idiot driving a very nice race car. Which is kinda sad, given that it’s only a tug. But I do keep the acceleration to reasonable levels. I don't want to get crushed.
Thankfully the sensors don't detect anything along my projected path, so there's no reason to be too wary. Taking a moment to check the life support and atmosphere, I find it both warm and breathable now.
Only then do I switch on the auto-pilot with commands to put the tug into geosynchronous orbit above site Prime.
The computer takes over the controls smoothly, and I don't feel any noticeable difference from my own piloting. Good, good.
Finally, I undo my helmet and sigh in relief after taking my first breath of the clean air inside the tug. Aaaah. Unbuckling myself, I get up and make my way down into the living compartment. At the table I pull out a ration and actually eat my first taste of a food that isn't slurry!
The rations are basically bars, like granola. They taste pretty good, and it’s chewy. Ah, but I miss real food! I'm looking forward to getting some chow down on the planet!
After eating, I check the game time and sigh. It’s time for me to return to the real world for a bit.
So I lay out on the bottom bunk bed, enjoying the first feel of comfort I've had in Universe Online.
I close my eyes, and logout.
-|- -|- -|-
I wake up feeling good and rested. Or, well, as rested as one can be when they cannot even control their twitch-muscle responses. Which means I'm stiff and slightly sore; and yet unable to do anything about it. I glance around my hospital room, which is more like a small apartment flat than anything; but don't see Karren or any of the other nurses.
I'm not too worried though. Waking up from VR always causes an up-tick in my breathing and heart rate, so it’s something they've taken to recognizing when I log out.
And on cue, the door opens, exposing the hallway outside for a moment.
This time the nurse is a guy. His name is James. He's big and athletic, but has a gentle personality that wouldn't be awkward on a priest or other man-of-the-clothe. He was once a football player during his high school days, before he injured his knee and had to quit.
Tanned skin, dark hair, and brown eyes. You could call him handsome. He's big and he's also smart. And while his personality is usually very mild and gentle, he still retains a competitive streak which has been given a whole new life in VR games.
He's almost as much as an avid player as I am.
'Hello, James. How was your vacation?' I ask up front, before he can say anything. He gives me a wry smile and chuckles.
“Ah, so you already knew that I'd taken time off to play Universe Online, huh? Well, let’s get you out of the pod and to the table for some food and I'll tell you about it.”
He laughs and helps me into the wheelchair, my favorite, before pushing me up to the table. This time it’s a meal of mac'n'cheese, with proper cheese! With bacon bits and a side of sweet corn. A decent meal for me.
'You always take time off whenever a new game comes out that you want to play, James. It isn't that surprising that I would figure it out. So tell me about it.'
While the man no doubt has questions of his own for me, he laughs and feeds me another bite before answering.
“Eeeh. Lets just say it is much more involved than what I'm used to. And everything is just so big! I chose the Metrin race and starting aptitudes of a medic on a space station about two thousand odd light years from Sol. It’s on th
e frontier border with the Rangor, and they're fighting over several nearby systems. So there's always soldiers coming and going and wounded men and women being brought into the station hospital where I work.”
The Metrin are another human-offshoot race, big and strong. They get bonuses in strength and stamina, but have regular mental stats. Their only downside is that they aren't considered pretty. Or handsome. More like mountain men or the like. Rough and uncivilized in appearance.
The Rangor is one of the starting alien races. They are reptilian, and require a higher base temperature and less moisture in their atmosphere than the various human species. They are aggressive, militaristic and expansionists, and either go out and get hired on as mercs, guards, or bouncers by other races.
Universe Online - Enter the Game: Complete Edition Page 14
