BTW, I can't really get too far into F-91. I never watched it – he frightened me by wandering around with a zombified expression on his face mumbling 'F-91' over and over and proclaiming that it sucked terribly. (shudder) Five years, and I still remember that! So F-91, seeing as how I have never seen it and intend to never ever watch it, is going to be cast merrily aside. I'll be using the net for my information about the 'other side' of Gundam (aka: the original universe), so if there's any inaccuracies, inform me so I can fix them! (prostrates herself before the Gundam knowledgeable of the universe, as she's a strict 'winger)
Disclaimer: I in no way own Gundam W. Don't sue; I'm simply an E5 in the USN, therefore I have no money. Ha.
-BEGIN FIC-
The battered computer's hard disks whirred and whined as the popping of overloaded circuits filled the dark silence, beating away the quiet with their racket. The cockpit door ground painfully upon its tracks, the slight warping and denting caused by the combined effects of the mobile armor's last battle over thirty years ago and its more recent crash making its journey a near impossibility. Sticking once, overstressed motors whining piteously, the door creaked and squealed loudly as it was forcibly reeled past a particularly severe bend in its metal sheath before it slammed solidly into its hollowed resting area within the ship's otherwise solid and thick titanium walls.
Cockpit access grantedDeactivate ion shield
Reason: Allow entry of Homo Sapiens Newtype
Reason: Preservation of generator power for Neo-Psycommu System
Reason: Neo-Psycommu System necessary for communication with Homo Sapiens Newtype
The spark of an instantly appearing and instantly extinguished electrical fire flickered within the copious panels that lined the small cockpit, the flames' heat stolen and terminated by the vacuum that now flooded the vessel's interior owing to its opened door. Power was swiftly rerouted from the ion shield generators to the overwrought CPU.
The computer continued its work, its few remaining sensors tracing the movements of those within their exceptionally limited range as it redirected power as necessary to maintain continuous operation of the vast system. As heavy boots silently tapped upon the cockpit's steel floor, the lone monitor before the ship's previous pilot's dead skull flickered with static as the image it had saved was eliminated and a simple request was posted.
Establish contact---)))000(((---)))000(((---)))000(((---
Everyone had thought he was crazy.
At that point, Quatre was beginning to doubt his own sanity. After all, he was marching straight into an unknown situation with no weaponry, no clue as to what he could expect, and the trigger-shy ex-pilot of Wing Gundam who'd vowed to never again kill leading his way for protection's sake.
However with such inexplicable occurrences as what had just occurred his insatiable curiosity had risen from the abysmal depths to which he usually assigned it. He had to answer the questions that were racing about his mind.
'Why did the cockpit door just open?'
'Why did the electrical field the ship had been maintaining suddenly vanish, evident by the fact that Cid there just experimentally touched it with the end of his insulated screwdriver and didn't have it repelled into his facemask again?'
'Is that thing occupied?'
'Is this an invitation?'
Quatre had taken his first initial steps towards the red wreckage when Duo's voice instantly flooded through the speakers within his helmet. "Neh, what do you think you're doing?"
"I'm going to check it out," Quatre simply replied, his voice carried to the other personnel who shared his communication frequency within their helmets and the small computers that drove the close-range system. A sigh bled over the small microphone within his spacesuit's helmet, overpowering the constant soft hissing of the oxygen tank's emissions and his quiet breathing. "After all, we have to confirm the vacancy of that vessel if we're to move it, right?"
"It could well be occupied," Heero's dry voice commented. "I will precede you into the vessel. It does not appear that you remembered to bring your gun."
"I'm not overly concerned, Heero," Quatre muttered. "I don't suspect it's occupied."
"Then why would it open?" Duo asked, his glove-encased right hand lightly tapping fingertips upon the mouthpiece of his voluminous helmet. "Automated system? If so, it should've opened for anyone who approached instead of making like the universe's ugliest bug-zapper."
"Let Heero escort you in. It would be foolish to relinquish his offered aid," Wufei simply said, his onyx eyes focused on the blonde before he glanced down at the prominent panel fixed to his spacesuit's right arm and opened a small panel on the left side of his helmet. "Excuse me, but Lady Une is calling back. I'm changing frequencies."
Quatre nodded to Wufei before glancing over to Trowa. "Well then, shall we take a look inside?"
"After you," the taller youth said even as his eyes retained their focus on the mysterious ship.
Heero's helmet bobbed with his nod of approval even as he removed his ever-trusted 10mm pistol from the Velcro pocket on his right thigh. Quickly chambering a bullet, the battle-hardened youth stepped with caution in his gait towards the red mass that rested in its funeral pyre of twisted metal and shattered glass. Quatre nearly stood upon his heels, keeping his frame as close to that of the agitation-stiffened soldier who led his way.
Together, they stepped into the cockpit of the small vessel.
Quatre glanced about, his eyes wide behind the facemask of his helmet even as Duo's voice came over the speakers by his ears, berating him for being a crazy fool and marching merrily to whatever doom was awaiting him. Trowa's voice quickly cut the irate boy out.
"Is it occupied?" the tallest of the gathering's teens quietly questioned, his voice smooth and hard, its lack of any inflection lending towards the true worry that lay under his monotonous tone.
Taking in the sight of that which occupied the singular seat before him, the initial response to gasp in disgust was overridden as it might worry his companions outside. Quatre instead chose to sigh sadly into his microphone. "It's occupied, but I doubt this person would mind us relocating the vessel. It's been dead for quite some time."
Heero was almost instantaneously kneeling before the seat, a critical gleam in his Prussian blue eyes. "I don't recognize the uniform," he informed those who stood outside of the cockpit. "Not the make of OZ, the Alliance, Mariemaia's gathering, or any terrorist group on the Preventer Database."
Soon the piteous light that slid past the cockpit's lone door was blocked by yet another figure. Trowa squeezed himself into the confined space, glancing about with wide green eyes. "Interesting," was his only comment.
Quatre had turned his attention away from the macabre skeleton with its eternally pained screaming jaws and empty eye-sockets to focus instead on the one fractured screen that flickered with static and a singular message.
"Establish contact?" he read, arching one golden brow. "What the heck?"
Trowa was soon at Quatre's side as Heero occupied himself with searching the dead pilot's uniform for any form of identification it could be carrying within its pockets. Laying a hand upon Quatre's shoulder, the ex-Heavyarms pilot frowned. "It's obvious the pilot didn't leave this message for you. An automated system, perhaps?"
"Perhaps," Quatre pondered. "However, I doubt that."
Glancing down, the brunette arched a brow himself. "Why?"
"Because there's a presence here. It wants me to communicate with it. I just don't know how."
Both Trowa and Quatre stared, eyes widened in surprise, as the screen suddenly changed its message.
Establish
communication via Neo-Psycommu System.
Reason: XMA-01
necessitates information.
Reason: XMA-01
Neo-Psycommu System compatibility limited to Homo Sapiens Newtype
Problem: Homo
Sapiens Newtype has not established communication with XMA-01
Danger – generator
output decreasing (current output: 0.559)
Problem:
Neo-Psycommu System requires stable power source
Problem:
Neo-Psycommu System requires minimum generator output of 0.500 for
operation in absence of stable power source
Problem: Generator
output decrease will disable XMA-01 Neo-Psycommu System in 15.001
minutes
Problem: Disabling
Neo-Psycommu System will eliminate XMA-01 communication media
Problem: No other
communication media exists on XMA-01
Solution: Establish
communication with Homo Sapiens Newtype before generator output
decreases to 0.500
Quatre and Trowa looked to one another as the message remained displayed across the single operating monitor.
"What is a 'Neo-Psycommu System'?" Quatre soft questioned.
"I'm wondering what a 'newtype' is, personally," Trowa mused, turning his attention back to the screen.
Quatre frowned. 'Some of us already know the answer to that question. My only concern is how one is to 'establish contact' with this ship, and what repercussions it will have. Perhaps that helmet upon the dead pilot's head? It is rather unique. Appears to be connected to the ship via fiber optic cables.'
Heero's voice nearly startled the two of them badly enough to cause them to jump as he suddenly cut in, "Must be an input device for use by newtypes exclusively."
"Neh, what's all the babble over the line?" Duo's voice whimpered from outside. "By the way, Une's blathering at Wufei and judging by the look on his face he's not the most merry of campers."
"That can wait," Heero tersely snorted. "As for the 'babble across the line' we're discussing a message the monitor within this ship is displaying."
"Holy crap! It's displaying a message?" Duo exclaimed.
"Later," Heero interrupted. "Let us think."
Duo grumbled his displeasure, but chose to follow the stoic boy's suggestion.
"If it is an input device for exclusive use by newtypes…" Quatre softly began, his eyes slowly losing their focus.
Trowa and Heero turned their eyes to the blonde as he closed his eyes completely, apparently concentrating.
---)))000(((---)))000(((---)))000(((---
Helmet not in useHelmet overridden
XMA-01 boosting generator output to Neo-Psycommu System
Reason: Helmet not in use (possible damage to fiber optics detected)
Reason: Helmet not in use (pilot not utilizing helmet)
Reason: XMA-01 requires contact with Homo Sapiens Newtype
Reason: Boosted power to Neo-Psycommu System will allow synching with psychowave pattern without helmet usage
Psychowave output of Homo Sapiens Newtype increase detected
Reason: Homo Sapiens Newtype is attempting contact without helmet
Contact established
The beaten ship's disks once more started whirring, each drive spinning wildly as it attempted to write and access the data stored upon them. Heated wires, saved the fate of incineration solely by the chill of vacuum present within the opened cockpit, snapped and popped silently in protest of the abuse they were being put through.
The Neo-Psycommu System was pushed to its devastated limits, instantly establishing a direct feed along the psychowave pattern it was networked with. Utilizing the contacting newtype's brain patterns as an ordinary system would accept the depressions of keys or the manipulations of a joystick, it instantaneously responded to the thoughts of that contacted mind.
First, however, that contacted mind would need proper authorization to access the XMA-01's considerable databanks. The artificially intelligent operating system realized that the information it sought could only be obtained through two-way data sharing, and that authorization to its interior information needed to be granted.
A new file was hastily scrawled into a dilapidated hard drive's partition.
Erase Pilot (File
0498 NT (Karozo)) (deceased)
Erase authorization
allowances to File 0498 NT (Karozo)
Reason: deceased
Create new file
New file created
Write file
File 0499 NT
(Winner) written
File 0499 NT
(Winner) saved
File 0499 NT
(Winner) assigned as XMA-01 pilot
Boosting power
output to Neo-Psycommu System for data feed initiation
Reason: More power
necessary for data feed with helmet not in use
Danger – generator
output decreasing (current output: 0.557)
Initiate data feed
to Pilot (File 0499 NT (Winner))
Data feed initiated
Downloading XMA-01
operability instructions to Pilot (File 0499 NT (Winner))
Downloading XMA-01
database directory to Pilot (File 0499 NT (Winner))
Downloading XMA-01
partition directory to Pilot (File 0499 NT (Winner))
Downloading XMA-01
specifications to Pilot (File 0499 NT (Winner))
Downloading XMA-01
Neo-Psycommu System operability plug-in to Pilot (File 0499 NT
(Winner))
---)))000(((---)))000(((---)))000(((---
Quatre had gasped the moment the screen had been wiped free of its previous message and new information began to race across its cracked expanse. Falling to his knees, he clutched at his space helmet, trying desperately to rip it off.
He felt the hands on his wrists, pulling his own clawing appendages away from the helmet. He ignored them, trying desperately to complete his task.
"LET ME GO!" he shrieked at the top of his lungs, his voice crackling over the flimsy speakers in his companions' helmets.
"Quatre!" Trowa's voice burst over the speakers as he tried to pull the smaller teenager to his feet. "What are you doing?"
"What is wrong?" Heero immediately added, his hands entering the fray, effectively restraining the blonde's grasping and fighting fingers and leaving Trowa free to restrict Quatre's movements, clutching him close to his own lank body to keep him upright.
"Hey, what the fuck's going on in there!" Duo's concerned voice instantly burst, his body suddenly blocking off the scant light that entered the desolate cockpit as he charged in to assist his friend.
"How should I know?" the emerald-eyed teen snarled.
Shuddering, Quatre cried out once more, his eyes closed, his face twisted in agony.
---)))000(((---)))000(((---)))000(((---
The reaction of the quartet of persons within the cockpit did not escape the vigilant sensors of the computer system.
The Neo-Psycommu System was immediately deactivated.
As the blonde settled down, limply leaning into the protective embrace of the taller boy behind him and leaving his useless hands within the grip of his overly stoic friend, the computer's drives whirred silently.
The message across the monitor was eliminated.
Contact revoked
Pilot (File 0499 NT
(Winner)) unused to prolonged contact with Neo-Psycommu System
Neo-Psycommu System
operating at elevated frequencies due to lack of helmet usage
As three of
the four humans within the battered ship's cockpit gasped at the
message, the blonde that had been contacted remaining limp within the
arms of the one behind him, the computer posted yet another message.
Reason: Instability detected in psychowave pattern
Reason: Pilot (File 0499 NT (Winner)) psychowave projection untrained in Psycommu System usage
Problem: Neo-Psycommu System requires more stable psychowave projection than Psycommu System
Problem: Neo-Psycommu System requires more stable psychowave projection than Pilot (File 0499 NT (Winner)) is capable of in current physical condition
Solution: Pilot (File 0499 NT (Winner)) requires 8.782-hour shutdown period to attain maximum performance
XMA-01 suggestion to Pilot (File 0499 NT (Winner)): Shutdown conscious mental facilities to restore optimum psychowave projection
One of the four humans communicated to its companions over the speaker within its helmet, "I believe the ship's telling Quatre to get some sleep."
"That's ridiculous!" the most newly introduced person snarled.
The ship silently retained its message upon its monitor, unable to detect the conversation between the cockpit's current inhabitants, unable to read the frequency they were using, and unable to reply even if it were.
Instead of focusing on communication with those unable to utilize its media, the ship's CPU followed its own operative instructions, completing its scan of its pilot and making its next decision without direction.
Pilot (File 0499 NT (Winner)) shutdown complete
Begin function:
Update ship log
Run log
Program initiated
Begin data input
Date: UC 0154.07.15
Location: Unknown
Ship: XMA-01
Ship condition:
01.021 operational
Pilot: File 0499 NT
(Winner)
Hull breech located
Second hull breech
located
Fuel leak located
Fuel tank breech
located
84.000 tentacle rods
destroyed – replacement necessary (105 TRs destroyed)
75.000 remaining
tentacle rods damaged – inoperable, reparable (15 TRs damaged)
60.000 remaining
tentacle rods damaged – operable, reparable (3 TRs damaged)
WARNING: Using 3
damaged operable TRs may result in irreparable damage to TRs
100,000 mega
particle cannons damaged – inoperable, reparable (5 MPCs damaged)
80.000 mega beam
cannons damaged – inoperable, reparable (4 MBCs damaged)
25.000 beam cannons
destroyed – replacement necessary (1 BC destroyed)
33.333 remaining
beam cannons damaged – inoperable, reparable (1 BC damaged)
50.000 remaining
beam cannons damaged – operable, reparable (1 BC damaged)
WARNING: Using 1
damaged operable BC may result in irreparable damage to BC
50.000 scattering
beam cannons damaged – inoperable, reparable (4 SBCs damaged)
15.000 apogee motors
destroyed – replacement necessary (6 AMs destroyed)
50.000 remaining
apogee motors damaged, inoperable, reparable (18 AMs damaged)
55.555 remaining
apogee motors damaged – operable, reparable (10 AMs damaged)
WARNING: Firing 10
damaged operable AMs may result in irreparable damage to AMs
Danger – fuel
level at minimum (0.000)
Danger – generator
damaged
Danger – generator
output decreasing (current output: 0.552)
Terminate log entry
Log entry
termination verified
Log saved
successfully
Computer system
backup initiated
Backup complete
XMA-01 shutdown
initiated for power conservation
Pilot confirmation
required
Requesting
confirmation for shutdown procedures
OK?
A few moments passed before the vessel's operating system recognized why it wasn't receiving a confirmation even though the newest pilot to enter its databank was not deceased.
XMA-01 error
recorded (pilot at times is unable to give confirmation to necessary
ship functions)
XMA-01 adjusting
programming
Adjustment
completed: New parameters installed
New parameters
initiated
New parameter 1:
XMA-01 will override pilot confirmation when pilot is physically
incapable of granting confirmation
New parameter 2:
XMA-01 will override pilot confirmation when pilot is unlikely to
grant confirmation to necessary ship functions
New parameter 3:
XMA-01 will only override conscious pilot decision when conscious
pilot decision does not compliment continued existence of pilot
Pilot confirmation overridden
Reason: Pilot (File
0499 NT (Winner)) shutdown
Commencing shutdown
The single monitor flickered once before going black, the plethora of information that had been displayed upon its span for all to read vanishing even as the whirring disks stopped their activities and the melted wires ceased their conductions.
---)))000(((---)))000(((---)))000(((---
Trowa stared with wide eyes at the monitor. "Did you read all of that, Heero? Duo?"
Heero grunted quietly. "Iya. I've been concerning myself with ensuring that Quatre's alright. He's unconscious, but I don't understand why. He has no physical trauma."
Duo gulped softly. "Yeah, I caught it Tro. The thing just… did something a computer should never be able to do."
Trowa nodded slowly. "It reprogrammed itself. Without an operator. It just… reprogrammed itself."
Heero stared at the two, comprehension instantly lighting his eyes. "A computer system that drives mobile armor and reprograms itself as it sees fit? Fascinating."
"You know, I knew he'd say something like that."
"Regardless," Trowa said with a frown turning his lips to immediately interrupt any further snarled wit from Duo, "that brings up one important question."
"Aa," Heero mumbled. "Do we take this thing back to HQ. Good question. A weapon with the capability to reprogram itself on its whimsy is a liability."
The light that poured in from outside was disrupted once more as Wufei stuck his head into the cockpit and decided against full entry, as the miniature room was crowded enough as it was. "Concerns, gentlemen? The cargo hauler is already on its way, scheduled to arrive in two days." Arching a black brow as he noted the concern on his companion's faces, he glanced about. "Unoccupied, isn't it?"
"In a matter of speaking," Trowa replied, casting his glance back towards the broken centerline monitor before turning his gaze towards Wufei. "The old pilot is dead."
"However, it seems to have one impressive AI system driving it. Damned thing reprogrammed itself!" Duo chirped, walking immediately to stand before Wufei and laying his hands upon either side of the opening to the ship. "Fucking freaky, neh?"
Wufei's other brow arched to match its predecessor in its upraised position. "You're kidding. However," he started, his face falling into a light scowl, "there's no stopping that hauler. The only directive Une gave for it to be returned to HQ without this unidentified vessel was upon discovery of an occupant."
"Lemme guess," Duo snorted, "upon whose discovery we were to apprehend and drag back to HQ instead, seein' as how we could learn everything we needed from the pilot and the ship could be scrapped?"
"Exactly," Wufei confirmed.
"Well, we have no choice in the matter," Heero's quiet voice interjected. "Let's get Quatre to the foreman's office, and get these men away from the site. We've got to get this vessel secured for transportation if the hauler is going to arrive in two days. There's a lot of work to do."
"Great," Duo huffed. "Lemme go get the duct tape and bungee cords."
As he stalked away, Heero looked at Trowa, concern evident in his eyes. "Duct tape and bungee cords?"
"Relax, Heero. I think Duo knows what he's doing when it comes to moving scrap."
---)))000(((---)))000(((---)))000(((---
Startup initiated.
"Ah, there it goes," the light voice replied. "I wonder how it did that," it mumbled moments later.
"A mysterious vessel," another voice mused.
System restoration
initiated
System restoration
complete
Begin function:
Update ship log
Run log
Program initiated
Begin data input
Date: UC 0154.07.17
Location: Unknown
Ship: XMA-01
Ship condition:
01.018 operational
Pilot: File 0499 NT
(Winner)
Hull breech located
Second hull breech
located
Fuel leak located
Fuel tank breech
located
0.800 tentacle rods
removed – location unknown (1 TR removed)
84.677 remaining
tentacle rods destroyed – replacement necessary (105 TRs destroyed)
78.947 remaining
tentacle rods damaged – inoperable, reparable (15 TRs damaged)
75.000 remaining
tentacle rods damaged – operable, reparable (3 TRs damaged)
WARNING: Using 3
damaged operable TRs may result in irreparable damage to TRs
20.000 mega
particle cannons disassembled/removed – location unknown (1 MPC
removed)
100.000 remaining
mega particle cannons damaged – inoperable, reparable (4 MPCs
damaged)
20.000 mega beam
cannons removed – location unknown (1 MBC removed)
100.000 remaining
mega beam cannons damaged – inoperable, reparable (4 MBCs damaged)
25.000 beam cannons
removed – location unknown (1 BC removed)
33.333 remaining
beam cannons destroyed – replacement necessary (1 BC destroyed)
50.000 remaining
beam cannons damaged – inoperable, reparable (1 BC damaged)
100.000 remaining
beam cannons damaged – operable, reparable (1 BC damaged)
WARNING: Using 1
damaged operable BC may result in irreparable damage to BC
12.500 scattering
beam cannons removed – location unknown (1 SBC removed)
57.143 remaining
scattering beam cannons damaged – inoperable, reparable (4 SBCs
damaged)
15.000 apogee
motors destroyed – replacement necessary (6 AMs destroyed)
50.000 remaining
apogee motors damaged, inoperable, reparable (18 AMs damaged)
55.555 remaining
apogee motors damaged – operable, reparable (10 AMs damaged)
WARNING: Firing 10
damaged operable AMs may result in irreparable damage to AMs
Danger – fuel
level at minimum (0.000)
Danger – generator
damaged
Off-hull electrical
supply detected
Terminate log entry
Log entry
termination verified
Log saved
successfully
Quatre closed his eyes as he slowly pulled the dusty helmet from his blonde-haired head. "There. Now that we've got it operational again, we can start searching its logs for answers."
Heero nodded once. "You're certain you're up to this? I recall your last reaction."
Quatre sighed quietly, shaking his head. "I was unprepared last time. This time I should be alright. Besides, hopefully the thing won't be trying to download anything into my brain. Maybe just-"
Pilot (File 0499 NT (Winner)) request receivedAll information concerning XMA-01 to be displayed on main monitor
They both stared as the ship's statistics rolled over the front-most monitor in the cockpit, Quatre gripping the chair in which he sat tightly, Heero stiffening from his kneeling position at Quatre's feet.
Model number: XMA-01Code name: Rafflesia
Unit type: prototype mobile armor
Manufacturer: Crossbone Vanguard
Operator: Unknown (organization of Pilot (File 0499 NT (Winner))
First deployment: 0123.03.04
Accommodation: Pilot only, in cockpit in main body
Dimensions: Overall length 37.5 meters
Weight: Empty 184.6 metric tons; max gross 263.7 metric tons; mass ration 1.43
Construction: Titanium alloy/high-ceramic composite on movable frame
Power plant: Minovsky type ultra compact fusion reactor, output rated at 31650 kW
Propulsion: Rocket thrusters: 5x52020kg, 5x43350kg, 20x28900kg; vernier thrusters/apogee motors: 40
Performance: Maximum thruster acceleration 4.00G
Equipment and design features: sensors, range 2,100,000.000 km (1,304,879.504 mi); Neo-Psycommu System, allows pilot to control all functions of mobile armor without use of manual controls; anti-beam barrier system, absorbs/deflects all incoming beam weapon attacks
Fixed armaments: 8xscattering beam gun, fire-linked, mounted in main body stalk; 5xmega beam canning, mounted in petal binders; 5xmega particle gun, mounted in main body beneath petal binders; 4xbeam cannon, fire-linked, mounted in tip of main body stalk; 125xtentacle rod, each rod mounts superheated chainsaw tip, 25 tentacle rods mounted in each petal binder
Heero whistled softly. "That answers a lot of questions. Now we know what it is we removed from each segment of this thing."
"Indeed," Quatre quietly murmured, his eyes wide.
"How did you do that?"
"Do what?" the blonde questioned.
Heero gestured towards the screen. "Bring up the ship's information. I didn't realize you were feeding it commands."
"…. Neither was I."
tbc...
A/N: Sorry if this disappointed, but as the preludes feature the ship's computer being, for lack of any better term, so cold and 'computer-like' this was really a pain in the butt to write. I'll probably do better on the next chapter, as it focuses more on the human impact of this new arrival rather than the dilemma of the ship itself.
Writing from the POV of a computer operating system is more difficult than one would believe!