|/]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]
[Chapter 2: Callcheck received.]
|/]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]
[Location: Khalanxis Cargo Hold IIX]
"Parsing check on system mainframe, third pass…" Fernicius declared as he typed in a set of commands on a mobile console he had brought down to the cargo hold.
Overhead an announcer voice responded from the speaker system; "[Parsing check for D-MSU units commencing.]"
The triple-headed Quintesson grinned widely for a second before coughing and wiping the smile off of his face. With a look of sheer professionalism he turned around to see his boss Emphisa tending to the set of five robots standing in a single row.
"[Call-check on D-MSU-01]" The announcer voice boomed overhead. Lomdai, the little mech standing at the front of the line, flashed its optics before its synthesized, monotone voice called out; "Call-check received from Main System. Answering call-check."
The sudden reaction visibly startled Emphisa, who promptly shot a withering glare in the direction of his subordinate. Fernicius, face betraying nothing, raised a single eyebrow in questioning reply. He was executing protocol here.
"[Call-check confirmed. Continuing. Call-check on D-MSU-02]" The system continued. Emphisa ignored Fernicius's mischievious streak and continued his work. He polished a shoulder pauldron of the last unit in line and checked the tightness of a bolt on the one before that. Both Quintessons worked silently until eventually their work was finished. Emphisa displayed his absence of work silently, switching his datapad contents to a research document to peruse.
Fernicius eventually made a good attempt at waiting quietly before he started hovering around the room in evident boredom.
What the two were waiting for eventually announced itself when an entrance door opened, revealing the Overseer of the facility. The highest-ranked Quintesson hovered inside, calm and enigmatic eyes taking in the room. The expression on his face did not change when the MSU units caught his eye but the way with which he set a decisive course for them told enough: his interest was piqued. Both Emphisa and Fernicius did not say a word, respectfully waiting until their boss addressed them. They watched quietly as the master Quintesson circled Lomdai, taking in its features. He halted at the front, faces switching around so that each one of them had gazed upon the robot. "It has no facial features." The blue and silver face stated evenly.
"That is most correct, Honorable Overseer Sir." Emphisa answered with a silken-laced tone of voice, "An absence of definitive features will allow the unit to exude tranquility and neutrality. These units are meant as part of the facility, representatives of discipline and heralds of productivity. We won't need to look upon features to give command, and visitors aren't meant to address them. If it were to be decided that they should provide steward functions, we can always install the facial plate design of a D-HEX unit."
The Overseer nodded his agreement, "Excellent, it pleases me to hear that proper thought has been given to the integration of the Empire's values within these designs. Now, I hope that these little mechs can uphold their part of the ideal. They best not malfunction since I would really hate to have to order them destroyed. Such a decree would look… very bad… on your resume. Very bad indeed, Emphisa."
"I- I understand, Revered Overseer." Emphisa nodded.
The Overseer glanced at him briefly before adding casually, "I've seen cases where good Quintessons were, well, simply incapable of /coping/ with the shame they had brought upon the Empire. I would be displeased if I had to write a suicide report, if you understand what I mean."
Emphisa froze for just a moment before he leaned into a gracious bow. "Ah, of course, Oh Honored One. I… can imagine how… destructive… such a realization would be; to have failed the high Council. To have failed you. The thought alone is enough to make my life's energy falter."
The Overseer shifted his glance to Fernicius. The subordinate Quintesson was working diligently at the console and showed no indication that he had heard the exchange. "Excellent, let us proceed."
At his console, Fernicius was typing in the final commands and additions to the system. Or at least pretending to be for the sake of feigning ignorance. His eyes were shifty but his breathing was controlled. His posture seemed neutral but his face, concealed from the others, betrayed his stress. He double-checked his additions before activating the full extent of the system and after taking a deep breath, turned around, "Sirs, all systems are operational. We are ready."
Delight showed on the Overseer's face and he exclaimed merrily, "Very good! Alright then. Emphisa, Fernicius, show me these mechs at work."
"Per your command, oh Honored One." Emphisa nodded in Fernicius's direction, and his subordinate swiped at the console in turn. The screen flashed, beeped in response. "It's done. The system is active. The D-MSU units will start executing their orders now." Fernicius remarked.
All three Quintessons watched in silent expectation. They waited for a second. The second turned to a minute.
The minute doubled. Then tripled.
Nothing happened…
And as five minutes of waiting went by, Emphisa realized that nothing was happening still.
[Location: Khalanxis, Hallways]
Today was a really good day! Hextaida Mandar had finished his daily tasks and was now wandering around the hallways, observing daily life and searching for something of interest.
It didn't take him long to notice that all Empire subordinates walked quickly and focused; they had destinations and were going places. No-one loitered. Hextaida was quick to realize that he would stand out if he loitered so in order to blend in the little mech resorted to walking up and down the long corridors instead of standing still. If he saw something interesting, he would pause in front of one of the many signs and pretend to read it while stealing short glances at his point of interest. If he noticed someone curious, he would follow them at a distance pretending that his non-existent business just so happened to be in the same direction as they were going.
He considered himself quite clever as he first followed a guard on his patrol path. It was a generic-looking Allicon warrior who stood out through the way he walked his beat. He made it super evident that he was walking security by the way he would walk straight into the path of those coming from the opposite direction. His shoulders were scrunched up a bit so he appeared larger, and his tail swayed calmly to and fro with each step. When they came across a security station, the guards there shrunk in a bit, bowing their heads in submission. Mistwind counted them as two Sharkticons and one Allicon. The patrolling guard conversed with them for a moment before walking onwards. Only one of the Sharkticons observed Hextaida Mandar as he bounded past the station in pursuit of the big mech.
He was able to follow the Allicon for quite a long while until the mech eventually disappeared down a corridor for which Hextaida lacked the proper clearance level. His face scrunched into a disappointed pout. Drat, there went his entertainment; the broad reptilian back swayed down the hall and was soon out of view. Hextaida Mandar sauntered on quietly into a direction he was allowed. He read the plaques on the wall instructing obedience and observance as he passed them, and nodded respectfully whenever a Creator hovered past. Then all of the sudden a door swung open and a group of diplomats poured into the hall in front of him. A thick gruff cacophony of voices assaulted his ears while a mass of tailored suits blocked the little mech's vision. The chemical components of high quality cigars and an abundant use of liquid indulgence clogged his olfactory sensors. A Quintesson left the room as the last one and closed the door. He addressed the group with formal decorum and a lot of self-confidence as he began to lead them down the hall. Hextaida sidestepped and bowed his head politely as the group passed by him. His sensors where still working to make head or tails of this new encounter, but almost automatically did he turn and follow. They were a much easier follow than the guard had been; these diplomats wouldn't even notice him if he was walking right between their legs. He could listen and smell and see to all his system's content; the concept of eaves-dropping, and its ethics, was never explained to him.
The group went past the security station again, satisfied chattering never stopping. They were talking about some kind of deal and seemed utterly delighted about it. Hextaida carefully observed the station from the edge of his vision. The same Sharkticon that had briefly watched him follow the Allicon was silently watching the group as it passed. Their optics locked momentarily and Hextaida thought he saw the slightest of frowns flicker across the stern facial features of the security guard. But then they had passed and Hextaida disappeared with the group. He made a mental note to not pass this hallway again.
Yet far too soon for his liking, the group reached the entrance plaza. This meant, again, the end of Hextaida's privileges. Like hitting an invisible wall, he stopped walking. The group of diplomats went on, having never noticed their little stalker.
Well, he'd just have to search for someone else to follow.
Hextaida turned to continue back into the facility.
BAM!
The foot that came down in front of him missed him just barely. Hextaida gasped, took a hurried step backwards and looked up in alarm. Staring down on him was the Sharkticon guard from the security station a few hallways back.
"Halt! Identify yourself!" A deep baritone voice commanded quickly under the cold glare of lime-green optics. Hextaida obediently lifted his right hand. The Sharkticon scanned him, but didn't bother to offer the little cargo-lifter the same opportunity in return. "You have clearance." The guard stated, but his look betrayed that he wasn't done yet, "But you have no standing orders. Why are you going up and down the hall following strangers?"
"I have nothing to do at the moment, Mister Sharkticon Unit sir."
He was returned a deep, grouchy huff, "Hard to believe... but go do nothing somewhere else. I don't want to see you walking down this hallway again, understood?"
"Yes Sir. Er... can this one help /you/… maybe? Then it would have something to do." He tries.
The Sharkticon hisses. "Your function is not security or defense; it is cargo and research. Go exercise your function elsewhere, unit Hextaida Mandar."
The little mech from Aphos averts his gaze and nods, "U-Understood, Mister Sharkticon Unit Sir."
The security guard straightens, "Remember, unit: Idle hands make the mind wander." he phrases, "Such is not our purpose. Now go, and make yourself useful lest the Creators need to re-evaluate your usefulness."
"Yes, Mister Sharkticon Unit Sir. I will go, Sir." With that, Hextaida bows before turning around and hurrying down a random hallway. He glances over his shoulder to see the Sharkticon still staring at him from the plaza. "Eep!" He gasps, and walks a little faster.
"Unit D-HEX-23675, halt!" A rough voice calls out. Hextaida stops even before having seen the owner of the voice, "Aaah!" What was with the 'halt' orders today?
He turns, startles before bowing a bit, "Good cycle, Mister Sharkticon Unit Macetail Sir."
"Good cycle, little brother unit Hextaida Mandar. Present your standing orders and liberties to this one."
"Acknowledged!" Hextaida obediently raises his right hand like he had done to the other Sharkticon. Macetail embraces it and nods, "You have no standing orders and you have the proper permission to be wandering around in this area. Leash to me."
"Y-Yes, Sir." A bit surprised, Hextaida promptly finds himself grabbed and hoisted up into the air while the death machine walks off. Walks off with /him/.
"We have a problem in one of the docking bays. I was going to ask a Master to investigate the case… but you are clever too, right? Not as clever as a Master… but more clever than us Sharkticons." Macetail asked, glancing towards Hextaida as he continued walking down the hallway.
"I-I guess?" Hextaida squirmed a bit, "But Sir, I can never substitute for a Master. You're not implying me to be equally knowledgeable as a Creator, are you? That would be blasphemy!"
"I know! I know! This one does not imply anything like that." Macetail hastened to shush the little robot he was carrying, "I just need you to listen, and tell me what is wrong. We… can't find out but we feel."
This earned a frown, "You feel?" As far as he knew none of the Sharkticons ever gave an account of feeling anything. That surely was interesting.
"Er… yes, little one. We… feel wrongness, but we need evidence. We need ground for accusation." Macetail explained as he entered one of the dockyards where spaceships lay moored. He carried his little tower-brother through the hall with a clear heading. Soon, Hextaida could see where Macetail was taking him; There was an alien standing on walkway B, talking with a small group of Sharkticons. He made wide motions with his arms, clearly to emphasize his point. Considering that Sharkticons aren't very clever, this only served to /confuse/ them. Their optics were squinted in thought, and they only nodded slightly as Macetail joined them. One of them, Tormalus, eyed Hextaida curiously for just a bit longer.
"-And I am telling you, there is nothing in my ship's cargo hold that is considered illegal in this star system!" The alien stated. By the sound of his voice, it had clearly been doing so for quite a while.
"As stated before, we need your docking papers, mister Ralyarak." Tormalus focused its attention back on their uncooperative conversation partner, shoulders firm and voice patiently persistent.
"I come here for business conversation, not to turn over my cargo hold!" The alien bristled, "I refuse to do so!"
A little tinge of static erupted on the shortband frequency as Tormalus opened a comlink, "/Macetail, this plan of yours better work. Unit D-Hex-23675, Order: Detect wrongness./"
Hextaida Mandar blinked, gaze shifting between Tormalus, Macetail, the alien, and eventually the other Sharkticons. Detect what? The little mech shifted a bit before replying on the frequency, "/This one offers its apologies, Mister Sharkticon Tormalus Sir... but... this one does not know such a command. How does it detect wrongness?/"
The alien, Ralyarak, frowned as the Sharkticons suddenly fell silent. Most kept their optics locked on him with impeccable discipline. Or perhaps they were to lazy to turn their heads. A most peculiar purr of confusion erupted from some of them as the question of the little one threw them clean off track.
"/Macetail./" Tormalus spoke just the one name. Within it was a tone of voice that elicited a tremble within Macetail that only Hextaida could perceive due to his tiny body.
It did not bode well.
"/Tormalus, we could always invoke protocol 600-TR-B40…./" One of the other Sharkticons stated.
"/Agreed. The visitor does not have immunity to that protocol./" Tormalus answered and addressed the Alien, "Sir, in accordance with the legislation 600-TR-B40 against possible threats and contraband smuggled around the Sentennen galaxy, we must declare you a candidate for ship inspection. You stated to have traveled through Sentennen on your way to Quintessa and you refuse to hand over your docking papers. Please follow me to a customs office where the inspection will be handled further."
"W-What?!"
The alien stammered incoherently for just a second, before hissing angrily, "This has /never/ been a problem before. I've been coming here for eons, without any such inquisition. Why now?!"
Tormalus shook his head, "Routine inspection, sir. You were informed of this at the start of our communication."
"…!" The alien's eyes widened, fury alighting on its face. Hextaida frowned; why was it curious that the alien was making such a fuss? It was up for inspection. Lots of beings here were up for inspection now and then.
"This just because you're not getting my docking papers? That is NO ground to arrest me!"
"We are not arresting you, sir. We are simply enforcing anti-threat protocols for random checks of spacecrafts docking at our stations."
"This is biased! This is not a random check! This is discrimination!"
"Sir, please follow us. You are advised that this will go easier and faster if you cooperate." Tormalus insisted. The exchange was getting some attention from other beings in the area, but everyone chose to ignore it.
Still, it would've been a better display if they could have had some valid ground for actual arrest. Hopefully the custom check would reveal the source of their 'gut instinct' with this ship. It would still require a public broadcast later on to appease any bystanders in favor of Empire politics. If they found nothing, they would also need to arrange the discrete planting of evidence. It would've been easier if the D-HEX unit had done what they requested from it.
As one, the other Sharkticons assumed an escort formation around the trader. The discussion was over. Macetail set Hextaida down on the ground without a word, and took his place in the line. "/Thank you for your assistance, little brother comrade./"
Hextaida watched them go, still unsure what it was all about.
[Location: Khalanxis Cargo Hold IIX]
The sliver of doubt began to grow. Things should be happening. A lot of things!
Fernicius tried not to move back to the console to do a status check. He switched faces, showing his most stern one.
Emphisa next to him flexed his tentacles.
The Overseer coughed.
If nothing happened, they were in trouble.
If they had to recheck their calculations and programming, they were in trouble.
Suddenly, right on the cusp of that moment where someone is about to break the painful silence, a sound code echoes through the bay. On the screen, they could see the status of D-MSU-03 change from 'Idle' to 'Parsing'. They looked expectantly at the unit in question who now indeed differed from the rest with the stream of data flashing across its optical lenses. Then, the unit's status changed to 'Executing' and the data of the order it had received was nested underneath its status. D-MSU-03 transformed without a word, thrusters lifting it into the air. Then, it began to transfer crates from one side of the hangar to the other.
Fernicius nodded, "Exactly as planned." A surge of relief went through him as he watched the little mech zip to and fro.
Next to him, he heard the agreeing hum of Emphisa and a pleased but weird sound of amusement from the Overseer.
"Well done you two. This progress pleases me." The Overseer proclaimed, before turning around to the exit door. "Back to business, you two." With that, he made his leave.
Fernicius and Emphisa exchanged a glance, at which they simultaneously slipped out of their professional attitude and showed the death-fearing anxiety that they just went through.
[Location: Khalanxis, Aphos wing.]
It was only later when he returned to the Aphos wing that Hextaida Mandar found Cindermaw waiting for him in front of the workshop that was Hextaida's 'home/place of creation'. Arms were crossed tightly across the slightly-deformed chest and stern, yellow optics were trying to burn holes in the little mech.
"Er… Guardian Unit Cindermaw Sir?" Hextaida called out as he approached.
The Allicon did not move, optics still locked onto the little robot before him, "You went to one of the docking areas. You assisted in matters of the Halls of Justice. Do not deny this." He barked.
"Y-you know that I helped out, Sir?"
Cindermaw snorted, a violent and grating sound that made Hextaida cringe, "You do not offer help to the Justice units. And Macetail especially does not get your help." Having said his piece, Cindermaw turned and entered the lab. He flicked two claw-fingers to motion the mech to follow.
"B-But Guardian Unit Cinder-" Hextaida's plea was cut short by the stare of death that was tossed his way over a broad, spiked shoulder plate. Cindermaw held the gaze for a moment, before coaxing in an eerily pleasant tone of voice, "Go on, unit."
Hextaida really, truly, did not understand the increasing sense of danger that he was feeling here. Why was Cindermaw cross with him? What had he done wrong? He stammered, "I-I'm sorry. But-but wasn't this one taught to obey commands of superior units? A-And are the Justice units not superior to this one as well? This one did not approach Sharkticon Unit Macetail, Sir…. Macetail approached this unit!"
Cindermaw paused for a moment, a deep frown setting on his face. "Huh." He said eventually, "That is correct." He looked around the room for a while before stomping over to a computer console. He checked something that was difficult for Hextaida to see but when he turned back around the Allicon favored him with a smug smile.
"Hextaida, I hereby forbid you to wander in areas not part of the Aphos wing. That will stop you nicely from meeting mechs you should not interact with."
D-HEX-23675 nodded, "Order acknowledged. But Sir, doesn't that override the restrictions of the Creators?"
Cindermaw growled, "The Masters gave you certain restrictions within Khalanxis. I'm giving you restrictions outside of Aphos. Don't be dense: it overrides nothing. And when I've told Master Emphisa of your little venture into the docking yard, you'd be lucky if he doesn't order you dismantled and shelved: that D-MSU project is stressful enough as it is. Allow me to share a bit of wisdom with you, little one: The Masters are working on other projects. You've been set aside for now. But being set aside does not mean 'idling about'."
Hextaida widens his optics in surprised shock before looking rather insecure. "Idle hands…"
"What are you going on about now?" Cindermaw snarled, "Idle hands… Make some sense when you talk!"
"I met a guard in the hallways… he told me I had to make myself useful because idle hands make the mind wander. He said that we're not meant to be idle, and if I didn't have anything to do then the Master would re-evaluate my usefulness…"
The warrior raised an eyebrow, "And do you know what he meant with that?"
"With re-evaluating my usefulness? No, Guardian Unit Cindermaw Sir. This one does not know."
The Allicon crouched, bringing his face close to that of Hextaida. His optics dimmed and he grinned in dark humor, "Re-evaluating usefulness is Creator code-speak. It means 'to order destroyed."
|/]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]
[End of Chapter: Callcheck received.]
|/]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]
There have been serious health issues in the family and I truly haven't felt like writing for a while. Updates will happen when they happen.
Still, I hope that these stories will remain to be read and enjoyed. It is my attempt to continue writing as best as I possibly can.