Stuff and things from the 31st Century.

7 09 2008

Pascal on Altair: Vignettes from the Old Worlds

Raighleigh watched as one of the larger WD-800s helped a struggling AF Series "Little Rascal" move a cargo container. "Look," she said "that big robot is helping the little one!" Pascal seemed remarkably unmoved at this revelation of machine altruism. "I wouldn’t be too amazed by it" he mentioned, barely looking up from the screen. "On this planet the authorities made sure that all cybernetic devices capable of even a monkey like level of awareness have morals. Kinda like the Three Laws but for machines which don’t even come near being self aware…"
Pascal went on to explain, his pleasure in complaining about eccentricities of Krell now more important than the data he was watching on the screen.” You see it comes from the founders of this planet all being religious, mostly Catholics. And with their Industrial Age thinking they were never really comfortable with the idea of the Machines amongst their society so every once in a while a Board or two gets up some ridiculous meme about" , and with a derisive snort Pascal concluded with "immoral godless machines" (the irony that the 100km sphere which orbited Krell and many believed to be a mouthpiece to God was nothing but a machine itself was never lost on him.)
"So a new law is passed making sure toasters and garden-bots are programmed to kind and considerate to one another and especially their human masters."

"Pascal," sighed Raighleigh "if you hate this planet so much why do you live here? It’s not like you don’t have a choice to live wherever and with who ever you want?" Raighleigh had recited that ago old tautology in the Community, that if for whatever reason you didn’t like the society you grew up in you could always move to one you did want to be a part of , or start your own out on the frontier. Now that M-space travel and wormholes were commonplace in the affluent Community there was no excuse for whinging away on a planet you just couldn’t get to grips with. This made Pascals bitterness towards the people he shared a planet with all the more puzzling.

"I’ve got family here, amongst the Kabbalists. And strange though it may sound, this place is my home." Pascal finally looked directly at Raighleigh, the harsh blue light of the Altairian sun amplifying his piercing expression as he confessed his perplexing reasons for being on Krell.

Another Day in the Life of the Century Eagle

"Well, there is that theory isn’t there…." Victar went on to explain. "Theory?" questioned Ingstock, already suspicious of another onslaught of pop culture babble.
"Yeah, the theory that since the dawn of the Information Age all our cultural artefacts have been endlessly reproduced and regurgitated for each generation and whereas in earlier times the narrative rivers which guided the various isolated communities were prone to noise and reducing memes and led to wildly varying mindsets around the globe the homogenisation and……"
Ingstock closed his eyes as if a headache were coming on.
"…..standardisation of culture across the Earth since the 20th century has led to repetitive cycle that rarely progresses. So then, if the culture which illustrates our mindset is endlessly repeating itself then it is no wonder that memes from 1000 years ago can still
be prescient today." continued Victar who by now was on a roll and clearly enjoying himself. "If it weren’t for the injection of fresh memecomplexes from other intelligences such as the Blee and all the way across to genetically modified dolphins the narratives of the Information Age would be even more dominant in the Terran-based human noosphere!"
"Right" commented Ingstock, his face a mixture of wariness and tired bemusement. "So that’s why in the year 3008AD somebody still gets Batman?"
Ingstock turned away from Victars exalted face, clearly ending any further discussion. As he turned his worlds-weary head to calibrate the 11-dimensional fractals in the starboard M-jump nacelle he thought to himself that he much preferred Victar on his femme days, when he was masculine he was the most persistent geek.


Field Marshall Worriunt The Grand:

"and his journeys through the decadence of the Community”

The exoskeleton that encased his body was itself covered in tiny sculptures, sometimes abstract, sometimes of humanoid figures that seemed to be as alive as the man inside and expressing various emotions in much the way his natural body would. For example the anthropomorphic robot figurines that “lived” on his knees resembled a beloved childhood pet robot, all big headed and cute but capable of writhing around on his knees to emote all kinds of things. Such an intricate and ornate battledress was worn by someone who had done well in the martial rankings of the Nuur Clans. A suit no doubt earnt punishing the enemies of Humanity, from the millennia old but still marauding drone fleets of Mazdans, through to the everyday criminals that dared prey upon those populations under the “benevolent” protection of the Clans to the Ancient Enemy of the Tri’Ef’Ed the perennial bogeyman of the humans in the LMC.

Right now Worriunts’ impressive body armour was displaying a range of feelings, from his pharmologicaly inspired comfort and blissful satisfaction on the sprawling silken bed to a vague sense of restless and a need to get up.
Luckily for him that eternal battle most people feel between the drug induced bubble of warmth and an urgent need to perform the usual bodily functions was unlikely to affect his current mood. With a contented sigh he relieved himself where he lay and let the absorbent innards of this ornate red and white cybernetic suit take care of the mess and recycle it into a little flask of purified water. He would have some fun with that later with the lotus eaters writhing orgasmically around him.

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Warrior Lesbians of Izpadisti.

10 08 2008

warrior lesbians

Fleeing persecution for their radical all femme society 2000 years ago in the more conservative parts of the Mellard Imperium this hardy band of technocratic feminists ventured into the justly named Dead Core. Based on cyber-pharmological visions of their venerated leader Raife Iz Raagmulker they cashed in all their wealth and bought a fleet of FTL capable ships and borderline legal nano-technological devices. Upon entering the system of promised system Izpadisti they discovered a vibrant and unheard of robot ecology left over from experiments in Ashenar times.
The bot ecology was suffering, without the guidance and purpose offered by humans they had fallen into a rut and transformed the rings of the major gas giants into billions of copies of their various forms. This bot pollution would have carried on until encountering a complexity cascade and spilling out grey goo into the larger system like a burst metal pustule.
Thankfully the Ultra-Femme technicians managed to translate ancient computer code and got talking with the processing nodes of the bots. Now that they understood and tamed the bots “farming” of the various bot designs churned out by the replicators in the planetary became commonplace though there was a lot of trash to wade through. Cybernetic evolution and replicating errors had produced robot designs of a redundant but bewilderingly varied types floating helplessly in space.
The bots pledged unswerving loyalty to their femme masters and started about building habitats on the moons of worlds like Iry and then developing individual droid companions for the Izpadistians with every imaginable device a modern woman needs (dildonic attachments have become an art form and are much prized outsystem)
All would have been well for the Izpadisti synergy of lesbian and robot until raiders from a sub-light ark ship unleashed a barrage of antimatter weapons into the Mastortiver 412 planetary system killing over a million Izpadistis before they were beaten back by the auotmatic defense systems. The assault cost both sides dearly and the normally pacifist Izpadistis were forced to embrace the masculine world of violence and power when linking in with their newly developed bot wardogs and combat drones. The second phase of the raiders attack involved the unusual step of raping and plundering the inhabitants of Mastortiver 412 themselves. In the aftermath of the initial antimatter attack surviving Izpadistis were shell shocked and unable to offer much resistance to the invaders, it was unusal for such a vicious attack to be followed up by an attempted at manned invasion. Normally that level of violence signified the invaders wanted to obliterate their opponent, not subjugate them. It became apparent soon after the radiers landed that they subscribed to some ancient fertility cult under some mission from their god to spread their genetically perfect seed into even unwilling females (talk of genetic purity and lust for adventure fuel links to Nuur clans to this day.)
When help finally arrived from Izpadisti A the drones were driven to a blind revenge lust from the reaction of their synchronised femme pilots. Showing that rage and vengence are not exclusive to either sex, not one raider was left alive in the Mastortiver 412 system and the Izpadistis mercilessly chased the fertility cult back to the home ark ship hiding out in the binary systems Oort Cloud
Since that orgy of violence the Izpadistis have developed a militaristic culture of honour and contempt for the brutal and venal male world outside of the mother system (ignoring the irony that they have very much become the type of culture they hate.) Duels for love and honour are common though rarely fatal, a humiliating scar or severed body part is worn with shame by the loser for a week before surgery to heal scars and reattach limbs is performed.
The Izpadistis xenophobic and violently defensive nature has led them to dominate nearby systems as a precaution against further aggression.For the most part the Izpadistis keep very much to themselves in these “Protectorates”, the locals sometimes thankful for the protection and sometimes enticed by the Izpadisti culture of violence and sexual adventurism with their dildonic servants. Despite their fearsome nature and recent rumours of uncovered Ashenar superweapons the Izpadistis are still sometime harassed by sexual interest from travellers afar who have become addicted to the lurid and rarely authentic Izpadisti porn which is currently the fashion in the Greater Networks.





Zombie Apocalypse

10 08 2008

zombie apocalypse

Sysum : Terrestrial world near Prastoj which was predominately run along communist lines. The posthumans, for reasons known only to themselves unleashed a nano-virus which turned infected into mindless meat puppets intent on spreading the virus further. The zombie plague although not actually reanimating the dead reduced a persons intellect to that of a drunken ape by causing the death of the part of the brain responsible for higher reasoning and general self awareness (“I think therefore I am”) and also bestowed incredible resilience to pain and injury hence the impression that the dead had taken over the world.
Due to Sysums largely peaceful and communist nature the virus spread quickly as the average citizen didn’t have firearms to protect themselves and relied too much on the State to protect them. The government collapsed under such chaos and soon only isolated communities (some of whom were seen as barbaric and backward due to their survivalist nature before the zombie plagues) and the few colonies in space survived. The Spacers inhabited three torus style stations, a rudimentary space elevator and high prestige bases on two of Sysums moons. The few thousand who dwelled in space were considered the cream of the crop of the Party’s ideal, plus a few brilliant eccentrics who the State felt would be better placed away from the general population.

The communist spacers decided to sterilise the world using dirty bombs to clear the vast swarms of zombies, much to the horror of the few uninfected survivors and the odd weapon toting eccentric who hadn’t been placed under arrest by “emergency measures.”
Whilst debate hotly ensued in space down below the zombies had started to spread out from the cities in search of food , as civilisation collapsed there was no-one to resupply the government supermarkets or work the fields. During this exodus a dirty bomb was detonated over the most densely populated continent wiping out the zombies and many survivors too. The spacers were shown the error of their ways when a final radio transmission from an isolated community barricaded up in the capital of the continent was received lamenting the fact they had come so far in the zombie apocalypse only to be killed by their own kind.
After that tragedy it was decided to let things run their course and the planet was quarantined but for the ocean based terminal at the space elevator (although the survivor communities were eventually supported by supply drops from orbit) eventually the zombies , not being great at keeping a civilisation going started to die off.
In the following centuries while Sysum rebuilt itself the actual cause of the catastrophe was uncovered. Not only was the nano-viral nature of the plague revealed but also the method in which it came to Sysum in the first place, five “meteorites” that hit the world shortly before the chaos started. This fact and combined with Sysums now passionately survivalist nature (personal firearms were carried as a matter of everyday life and eventually became a fashion accessory) led to Sysums ascendance as a regional military power. When the wormhole to Mundessentlitz was rediscovered a massive armament program began as the Sysums believe who-ever was responsible for the horrors that had befallen them would be out there in the depths of space. Dominating the region (even defiantly resisting Mellard subversion) they eventually tracked down those responsible and led a powerful allied fleet to Prastoj in revenge.
After much preparation the battle was hard fought with the Prastoj only just managing to defeat the Allied fleet. The Allies even managed to infect the suspected artificial world of Artefact Terrus with a reverse engineered zombie virus (despite much public unease with its development and use) which had little effect on the posthumans and led to the Sysum alliance being shunned by the wider galaxy for using the verboten technology.
By the time the Community came onto the scene the Sysum Alliance though militarily strong had lost a number of its members and was in the grip of a recession brought about by the trade sanctions and destruction of much of its once mighty fleet.
In the interests of regional stability and having sympathy for the plight of Sysum (despite having reservations about its militarism) the Community has is currently working on trade and cultural links, also keen to have military allies in the volatile region and making a bold (and some would argue empty) pledge to bring the posthumans responsible for the zombie virus to justice.