Disclaimer: Toonami is copyright Cartoon Network. Story by Ruben Diaz, art by J. J. Kirby.
Author's Note: In my previous A/N I stated that I had no idea who this story belonged to. That has changed. Somebody posted the original animated comic at the web address I can't seem to recall. Just Google the thing. Using "Swarm Toonami" as your search words should do it. It may not be there forever. It may not be there now. But if it is, and if you watch/read it, you may notice that some of the mechanical designs I re-imagined turned out to be different from the source material. Oh, well. I won't change what I've already established.
On a more significant note, thanks to all who left comments on the first chapter! [insert overjoyed facial expression] Especially thanks for giving me honest critique instead of flames or thoughtless praise. When I posted this, I wasn't sure if anyone would ever see it or care about it. You guys are awesome. Enjoy chapter zero-point-two.
Swarm
chapter 0.2: epic fail
Gideon Alpha-12 Automaton Construction Platform.
"Is there a list of rules or objectives nearby?" TOM said rhetorically. "I'm kind of at a loss with this one." The fully-lit room TOM and RUBY had just stumbled into had a new obstacle: the absence of a floor. In the middle of the room, half of the floor's surface area dropped straight down, coming to a stop twenty feet below with an array of illuminated panels. The gap spanned from one side to the other, leaving no margin for ledges against either wall. A trio of rotating cogwheels with handles on them appeared to be the only way across. But so far, TOM couldn't figure out how they helped. One cog was positioned on the inside wall of the gap, just below where they stood. A corresponding one was set directly across from it, also against the wall inside the gap, fifteen feet away. And the third was up above their heads, creating a triangle. It seemed impossible to get from one to the other since none were spinning fast enough to toss his weight.
"I was kinda hoping these challenges would get easier as we go along," TOM continued as he looked from one spoke-wheel to the next. "I mean ... the lasers were pretty intense, don't you think?"
RUBY spotted a scorch mark that TOM had unknowingly received across his lower backside in the last chamber. She decided not to tell him about it, instead replying, "We could never be relied upon to do our jobs in outer space if we aren't tested here ... don't you think?"
"But what does this have to do with deep-space operations?" TOM gestured with his short arms at the fifteen-foot gap.
"This is the Zero-G Dexterity Examination," explained RUBY. "The affected space in and above the gap simulates the zero-gravity environment of space. Do you want me to describe how gravity works, or do you wanna hurry the heck up?"
"I wasn't built for this," TOM complained. "I've got multi-censors and data-nodes, not roto-gyros and force-servos."
RUBY tilted her head in what was undoubtedly a gestural substitute for eye-rolling. "Look, I figured out Hazard Logistics," she said, "so it's your turn. Don't worry, it'll come to you. In order to see how it works you need to ..." she placed her bulky foot over the burn on TOM's rear side and shoved as firmly as her short leg would allow, "... get out there!"
Instantly, TOM decided that the feeling of being pushed out into empty space warranted a sharp exclamation. He flailed for a second, but stopped when he realized his thrashing was doing nothing more than adding disruption to an otherwise straight flight path. "Ohhh ... zero-gee. I get it." Upon reaching the other side he instinctively grabbed one of the handles extending from a spinning central hub. His touch activated a light fixed into the handle's tip. As soon as he came swinging around underneath his hub and could see the opposite one (the one RUBY was standing above), he finally understood how the game was played. Releasing his grip, he sailed towards it and performed a similar maneuver of grabbing the touch-sensitive handle and flying up to the third, final hub.
RUBY watched patiently.
With three spokes on each hub, TOM had to grab a different spoke each time as he drifted from point to point. After each turn around, the hubs would change position randomly, moving to the left or right on rollers. This made him careful to judge his angle. Once all three spokes on all three hubs were activated, he completed his fifth cycle around and landed with a thud on the finishing point, near the access portal. "And on to the next challenge! Come on over, Ruby."
"On my way." She leapt from the starting point and followed the same course as TOM, flipping and twirling through the triangular cycle.
"You seem to know more stuff than others do about this trial run," TOM called to her.
"Well, I would hope I'm only as knowledgeable as everybody else is," she replied from up above. "But more so than you, it seems. There were information vids during our case integrity testing. Didn't you use them?"
TOM glanced down, looking inadvertently into the abyss. "Oh ... is that what they were for? I was watching video game previews on them." He looked up and added brightly, "Good news, though! My favorite company's come a long way since Halo."
When RUBY finished her fourth cycle and landed, TOM couldn't help noticing that she did so a little more gracefully than he had. "More fun than dodging lasers?" he asked.
"Much."
TOM turned to face the doorway triumphantly. "And we only have one more to go."
"Then let's get moving. Remember there's a time limit." They disappeared through the hatchway.
A moment passed in the empty room. Then the two VIK units hovered in after finally figuring out how to fit through the considerably smaller hatchway, then deciding which of them should enter first. They stopped at the edge of the abyss and paused for a minute, examining the tiny spoke-covered hubs that they could probably crush with a single hand. One of them suggested with its synthesized, deadpan voice, "You go first." His comrade slowly rotated his massive bulk and stared at him.
TOM and RUBY burst into the third and final room. It was furnished with a row of basic computer modules and a flat screen counting down the time they had left. Even though he was only made of synthetic materials, TOM felt a combination of dread and urgency stir up within him: they had just under thirty seconds remaining. "This is the climactic finish? No buzz-saws or flamethrowers? Tell me you know what needs done here, too."
"Of course I do," RUBY said as she made her way over to a console while glancing at the clock. "And it's easier than it looks." Her confidant tone belied the fact they she could readily imagine beads of sweat running down her helmet. She hopped up to the terminal and quickly assessed the key panel, then the text and images displayed on-screen. "This is to test our understanding of computer science and compatibility with the basics. You just have to find a way to get rid of these faulty algorithms and re-enter them correctly." She nodded to the console next to her. "Get up here, will you? We're running out of time."
TOM couldn't see what she was doing on the console with her gigantic head in the way, so he doubted he could copy off of her. "I couldn't even see the pattern back in the light show room, how do you expect me to—crap!"
"Tom!" RUBY cried, spinning around.
"NOW I know why there aren't any drills or bottomless pits in here," TOM said from his upside-down position near the ceiling. "There were two giant robots getting ready to jump us." His leg was clamped in the grasp of a powerful mechanical arm that was slightly bigger than he was. Twisting his head around, he could see the VIK demolition droid that was holding him aloft. And past the VIK's can-shaped head, he could see the monitor's countdown reaching twenty-two seconds. "Hey, I remember you guys. Whaddaya want?"
Punching in the last few numbers, RUBY jumped down from her computer station and ran towards him, but her path was blocked by the second VIK unit. "Let him go," she demanded. "He hasn't completed the course yet."
"That's what the O.A.R. said to do," the VIK holding TOM said. "To not let him finish."
TOM glanced at the upside-down monitor and made a desperate plea. "But I only have sixty-one ... no, wait, nineteen ... well, now eighteen seconds left! I'll never finish in time, so you may as well let me go anyway! Right?"
It was a sad excuse for an argument, and TOM mentally prepped himself to be crushed like a Pepsi can. But to his mild surprise, the VIK dropped him after a short hesitation. "Okay," it said, apparently convinced.
"Not the most difficult evil henchman to vanquish," TOM muttered. Scrambling up to the computer module, he stared intently at the information running down its screen and frantically began punching in data.
3 ...
Despite the ambience of menace being radiated by the demolition robots, RUBY, standing right next to them, had her attention fixed on the timer up in the corner of the room.
2 ...
The VIKs were as silent and inert as a set of rooks on a chessboard, waiting for the countdown to end. Then, they knew, their task would be done and they could get back to work that was more constructive ... in a manner of speaking.
1
The finishing blare sounded.
"Frag it!" TOM shouted. Despaired, he let his bulky hands fall to his sides while the others watched on. A pair of doors slid open, allowing them exit. The enormous VIKs turned and glided out, but the two automatons ignored them.
TOM turned regretfully to look at RUBY. She didn't knowingly show her disappointment, but her shoulders and head seemed to droop, and she didn't have anything to say. I can't believe I just let everyone down. He hadn't thought this moment would be so serious until he actually reached it; only now did he see how much harder he should have been trying the whole time. His lack of preparation had caught up with him. He could feel the tension and urgency draining from the room, but the strongest feeling coming to replace those sensations was the unyielding impact of his failure.
Outside, at the top-center point of Gideon Alpha-12, a reinforced spire extended above the three observation domes' summits and beyond the event horizon of the force-field prism. Perched on the end was the facility's Bio Sensor, a largely underused piece of equipment. Casting its free-range perceptive radius in every direction, it kept a lookout for signals of organic life, or anything other than the algae-covered planet it had been orbiting around since being installed.
The Bio Sensor was a mandatory precautionary instrument. This was in spite the popular opinion that having one out in space was similar in concept to adding training wheels to a missile tank. All day, every day, it scanned an environment where not even the most minute trace of any life-sustaining atmosphere could ever develop, let alone exist for very long.
Then a quiet blip issued through its systems ... It had picked something up.
Nobody noticed. None of Alpha-12's two thousand, seven hundred and forty-three individuals were directly linked with the Sensor, and were therefore unaware of how important this small registry was about to become. The Bio Sensor could have issued an alert, had it known what it was looking at. Instead, it filed a notice in Alpha-12's core index, which LARS could access wirelessly, then logged the time and event and started recording information. It was the only machine on Gideon Alpha-12 that had a clue to what was approaching.
A great distance away, a faint, eerie, luminescent light gradually came within range of sight. As the Bio Sensor quietly watched, the luminescence began to grow like a sunrise in the middle of space.
continued in chapter 0.3: "interstellar"