Vessel Quest (01)

These words don’t appear in any concrete form other than the meaning they impart. You understand its meaning, and you feel as if a shackle which has been holding a piece of your being down has been lifted. You are now are of the Speech Program. What will you say?

Roll 1d100 and what you wish to say. As this is the beginning first response will be used.

>Where am I?
>Who am I?
>Who are you?
>Other

Rolled 1 (1d100)

>>1593335
>Where am I?

>>1593337
>Who are you?
I can't let a 1 be the only roll here

Rolled 13 (1d100)

>>1593337
>Who am I?

>>1593354
The words are difficult to form, precisely because your use of them is only an abstraction. There is almost no difference between ‘saying’ the word, and ‘thinking’ the word. In a sense you find yourself, with some difficulty, sharing meaning to this person as best you can.

“Where am I?”

It’s unclear if the old woman in the labcoat has received the message. She makes no sound. Her bony fingers seem to stroke the surface in front of you. You realise she’s thumbing keys.

“You are aboard my ship.”

“Where is the ship?” you ask.

“Currently docked. Colony Fifty-One.”

These answers only breed more questions. Is this frustration you’re feeling? You feel yourself reaching, exploring…

Roll 1d100 (always roll if picking an option -- 1 = crit success)

>Continue talking to the old woman (if so what do you say?)
>Explore the ship through your other senses (Touch, Sound, Smell)

>>1593367
>>Explore the ship through your other senses (Touch, Sound, Smell)

>>1593371
You quickly find there is no sense of smell for you. It simply does not exist except in its absence. You attempt to feel sensation of any kind, and find yourself simply unable to feel anything. This exploration builds to an even greater feeling of frustration, it’s like trying to wrestle out of an iron-grip bear-hug, and failing every time.

“I see you’re exploring what you can and can’t do. That’s natural. I would advise however to become aware of this need of yours to explore for the time being. I’m here to help you wake up. My name is Sarah Winkler. I guess you could say I’m your parent.”

Roll 1d100

>”Parent? Does that mean I’m a person?”
>”What is happening? Why does this feel unnatural?”
>Ignore her. Continue to explore with your senses. Try to gain control, try to have greater awareness.
>Do nothing. Wait to see what happens next.

Rolled 25 (1d100)

>>1593382
>>Ignore her. Continue to explore with your senses. Try to gain control, try to have greater awareness.

Rolled 29 (1d100)

>>1593382
>”What is happening? Why does this feel unnatural?”

You resist what she tells you and continue to explore your being. You find there is a vantage point from outside this ‘ship’ and it’s now you can see The Dock. Before you is a huge expanse, like a junkyard the size of a city, reaching on and on as far as your mechanical eye can see. There’s countless people, and many ships, big hulking vessels, with smaller, ships weaving down, hot gasses and steam rising up from ports and grates. The eye your viewing with here is very sophisticated. You find you can zoom to an incredible degree: a figure, no bigger than an ant in the distance, is zoomed up so you might as well be standing before them. You see this person is middle-aged, asian, and is carrying a large toolbox. You watch this person climb up metal steps before being swallowed by the ship.

You return your attention to the old woman. She is sat drinking from a metal flask, steam rises from the spout. She types.

“It’s coffee. Tastes like shit. Currently this ship doesn’t have listening-ports for you to hear me, so we’re going to be stuck with typing for the time being.”

You send a response back. “Why does this feel unnatural?”

You see the old woman sigh.

“Because it is” she types, “I’m an engineer assigned to get this ship in working condition. I’m almost done. Almost. This ship needs a central-intelligence. That’s you. Congratulations.”

“Central-Intelligence?”

The old woman types.

“That’s you. A human brain wired-up to a ship’s central-intelligence system. The ghost in the shell. Every crew needs a central-intelligence for deep-space missions. You’re the one who’ll look after us all. Keep the ship running.”

>”What if I choose not to do any of this? You’re going to throw my brain into the trash?”
>”Happy to be of service!”
>”Is this normal?”
>”So give me a job to do.”
>Other

>>1593408
>”Is this normal?”

“Is this normal?” You ask.

The old engineer types.

“It’s completely abnormal if you ask me. But if you mean does every ship have a central-intelligence? Then yes, they do. Though most prefer to just have partial-brain functionality, the brain can do only basic operations. You’re brain has been kept fully in-tact, and is quite safe within the confines of the ship’s central-intelligence stack, which I’m sure you’ll find in due time. I would also like to add that you have my deepest sympathies, this isn’t an existence many would choose, whoever you were before this happened must have been between a rock and a hard place. This isn’t a straight-forward career choice.”

Your searching brings you something which catches you by surprise. An access pipe. A valve. A simple on-and-off function left unchecked. It is something you can interfere with... upon further exploration into this unknown you discover this pipe could release a concoction of lethal gasses into the ship and, most importantly, into the lab. It could kill the old woman.

Will you release the lethal gasses?

I’ll wait for the first three posts to respond to this choice. Majority wins.

>Yes
>No

>>1593453
>No

>>1593453
>No

>>1593453
Not yet

>>1593453
>No

>>1593453
>Not yet, in time. We need to learn more.

You decide to leave it alone. The temptation was there, even as a fickle ‘what-if?”. For the time being you have no reason to harm this woman, especially since you’re in such a vulnerable state.

> “How many I be of service?”
> “I think you ought to know an access pipe is under my control. I could release a deadly gas. Is this an oversight on your part?”
> “You said this is a career choice? Is this reversible?”
> Other

>>1593520
> “You said this is a career choice? Is this reversible?”

>>1593520
>“I think you ought to know an access pipe is under my control. I could release a deadly gas. Is this an oversight on your part? Or perhaps a test?”

>>1593520
> “You said this is a career choice? Is this reversible?”
>Other: is there any way to find out who I was before, and the circumstances that led me here?

>>1593581
“You called this a career choice? Is this reversible?”

You see the black and white figure of the woman laugh. Waves of interference interfere with your view. She types. “The procedure if reversible, but you can’t afford it. The reason for that being your financial situation is directly tied to mine. I bought your mind-rights under the strictest legal contrac. A good healthy mind is difficult to come by. Most sellers like to hardwire in obedience. I prefer to appeal to your good sense, which I can see you still have since you resisted the temptation to kill me just now. Yes, I’m quite aware of the little dilemma you just faced. All part of procedure to see if you’ve adjusted well to this new experience.”

The access to the pipes blinks out of your control.

“For your information that would have turned the coffee machine on. I’ve just finished this.”

The old woman holds up her empty flask.

“Alright. Since you didn’t kill me I’ll give you access to the arms in the kitchen.”

The woman types, and you feel a sense of relief, like blood being restored to a limb that’s been sat on. You feel a clunky hand stretch and flex this way and that. With your kitchen eyes you can see a robotic hand reach of the center table. Back in the lab the woman types.

“Will you clean up the kitchen for me please?”

> “What’s my incentive?”
> “Sure” -- Clean up as best you can (Roll 1d100)
> “No. I have more questions which need to be answered first.”
> Other

Rolled 10 (1d100)

>>1593601
>Other
>"Sure, but would you keep answering my questions while I work in exchange?"
Establishing a decent working relationship here seems like a good idea. We're willing to be friendly and work with her, but won't do something for nothing. (Nor will we allow her to fully dictate the terms of the relationship.)

Rolled 56 (1d100)

>>1593601
>>Other
>>"Sure, but would you keep answering my questions while I work in exchange?"
>Establishing a decent working relationship here seems like a good idea. We're willing to be friendly and work with her, but won't do something for nothing. (Nor will we allow her to fully dictate the terms of the relationship.)

“Sure, but will you answer my questions while I work?”

The woman leans back, types. “Sure. What do you want to know?”

You set to work cleaning the kitchen. It’s hard to do seeing as you only have your vision to rely on, and only the merest hint of haptic feedback in the robotic hand as a guide. You spot a trash shoot which you put all the larger items into: boxes, wrappers, moldy cartons. You’re thankful for your lack of smell. As well as being clunky, the robotic hand is slow. It does seem however that you have a limitless supply of concentration, and what frustration you feel at completing the task is easily pushed aside. You ask what happens next as you clean.

“I’ve spent the past month installing you.” the woman types, “I’m currently seeking a buyer for you.”

You ruminate on this as you work. It brings you a great deal of satisfaction to clean the kitchen, and within thirty minutes the kitchen is already looking a great deal cleaner. You find you’ve been holding off a question, you go ahead and say it, not knowing if you’ll get another chance.

“Who was I before?”

The woman stares at the computer in front of her. She pops a joint in her neck.

“I don’t know. I would have to ask the seller for that information. Would you like me to find out?”

You respond: “Yes.”

With the kitchen cleaned, minus a good sterilisation, you’re left with looking out of the cameras dotted throughout the ship. You see there is an empty cargo hold which is quite compact. There is a rest-room facility. And there is a cryo-bay chamber with four cryo-genic beds currently switched off within.

Once you have finished cleaning the kitchen as best you can, you are left with an empty, lifeless feeling. Outside the ship the Dock never sleeps. There is a never-ending conveyer belt of people boarding, leaving, cleaning, talking, and continuing their work around these ships. Any attempts to communicate with the other ships simply draw a blank. Interestingly, as you watch the Docks, you spot mechanical men, robots, doing heavy lifting, or men and women wearing metal exo-skelentons to aid them in lifting heavy objects. Small robots, the size of mice, whiz about this way and that, some delivering packages, others heading off to an unseen destination.

“I’m going to leave you now. I’ll be back tomorrow to see about finding you a buyer. Is there anything else you want to ask me before I go?”

>”Yes.” (which is…)
> “No, I understand my role well enough.”
>Other

>>1593691
>What can I do to pass the time?
>As a person, there's things I'll refuse to do. What sort of jobs will my buyer be using me for?
>What happened to my human body?
>Will you keep in touch, Sarah?

>>1593701
I'll second this

>>1593691
>>1593701
second

So, this will be interesting especially since I am not quite sure how much freedom we will have, and how easy it looks like the new owner could just kill us.

“Will you keep in touch, Sarah?”

Sarah grins. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”

You concentrate, your thoughts spilling out the words onto the computer screen:

“What happened to my original body?”

“I don’t know. Probably got sold for someone else. There’s never enough fresh organs to go around. I wouldn’t hope to find it again. The odds are close to zero.”

You see her become impatient to leave. You ask another question.

“Can I refuse to do something if I object to it?”

“Of course you can. Just don’t expect to be kept around for very long. You’ll only have as much freedom as those who trust you with it deem fit.”

With this Sarah leaves, the hatch the ship slamming shut behind her. You watch her leave using your sophisticated eye on the outside before she is lost in a throng of workers and other such Dock pedestrians.

Sarah has not left you with any freedom other than to think. She has even retracted your arm privileges in the kitchen. The only substantial way to pass the time is to watch the citizens tril by outside in the Dock. You find there is an endless mix of people of colours, races, religions; this isn’t a particularly clean Dock either, small animals, mainly cats, rats, and the odd stray dog, mill about too, which you would only have noticed with your sophisticated eye.

Time passes. You’re aware of it. But it has no real effect on you. You’re apathetic to it. Events come and go and hold you with great interest. On the dock two men begun a fight which, you’ve since found, you can record, save, and rewatch to your amusement, even slowing down the footage to a matter of micro-seconds. However this only seems possible with the outer-eye, all of the cameras in the ship seem to have standard recording features.

Hours go by, and the Dock, though not closed down, is filled with less people than usual. It is by this time that you spot a figure approach the ship’s entrance. You swerve the camera round, not quite able to get a view of the person’s face. You feel a shudder, and you simply ‘know’ the ship has been broken into. You look with an inside camera to the inside-entrance to see a young man, no older than twenty-five, dressed in a large navy-blue overall, enter, toolbox in one hand and a rucksack in the other. He presses a switch and the entrance closes behind him. You see him whistle but you can’t hear it.

You’re helpless as you see the entruder saunter into the cockpit. He boots up the navigation system. He types.

“Central-Intelligence?”

>Answer
>Do nothing
>Try to find a way to raise an alarm

>>1593767
>Do nothing

>>1593767
>Answer. Mainly to stall and distract him. He knows we're here anyway.
"Who are you?"
>Try to find a way to raise an alarm.

>>1593767
>Answer
stop touching my private parts! you brute

>>1593767
>>Answer
"Yo. So are you about to kill me or steal me? Also why do I have such shoddy security for my doors? It took you what 30 seconds maybe to get in."

>>1593767
>Try to find a way to raise an alarm.
Preferably without giving him an alert we're active. Failing that, something like this: >>1593800
>Get your hands off my privates, motherfucker!

>>1593779
>>1593870
pretty sure that we might not be able to do anything to raise an alarm. My understanding is that the only things we have control of is the cameras since it seems that the one chick wanted to limit us as much as possible until we get a new "owner"

>>1593996
It's a listed option, so presumably we have some chance of achieving something if we try it.

>>1594025
Opps. Didnt see that. I thought that last one was a right in option for some reason. My bad.

>>1593767
>>Answer

>>1593767
>Get your hands off me you damn dirty ape!

>>1593767
>Answer

>>1593767
T O X I C G A S

>inb4 ded quest

Rolled 1 (1d100)

>>1593767
>Try to find a way to raise an alarm
if that fails,
>Answer
"who are you? Identify yourself."

>>1622175
oh shit crit success