The Scrapper, Ch. 2

The stars crept back into my vision as I came to, a soft, seeking light that became white hot daggers in my pupils the more conscious I became. I raised an arm to shield myself but quickly realized it was the only thing propping me up. I tipped over, my arms flailing out in my panic.

Thankfully I was already sitting down, but it was still enough motion for my recent head wound to remind me: StationSec decided I wasn’t worth a tranq round, a taser, even handcuffing, or even simple conversation. No, they decided to nail me with the butt of a lasrifle evidently. Fantastic. I reached up gingerly to probe the area and discovered a warm, squishy autostitcher patch. I guess that means it’s been going for a while, which also meant I’ve been out for longer. So, they wanted me alive.. but also concussed? It's no wonder the budget for StationSec was so high if this is how they went about getting convictions. The patch began squirming again, tiny arms the size of hairs moving, injecting, debriding. Specialized gel in the patch worked to absorb and recycle any fluids that were sitting on the surface like blood, plasma, even the topical anesthetics they administered were eventually recycled to keep powering the device until it detected no more injury. Lovely pieces of kit, frankly. You’d see soldiers with patches from head to toe, battle sponges that loved to soak up energy ablation rounds. Hell, if you caught it early enough and had a big enough patch, they could even reattach a severed limb. So why the hell did they bother to waste one on me?

My eyes finally felt like they could try again, so I took a deep breath and tried to open them as incrementally as possible. The shrill white faded into a cooler blue as my pupils finally adjusted, but the pain remained. I could see the thick safety glasstic of my cell door, scuffed and scratched, full of notes, letters, profanities (neat there’s some fresh ones since the last time I got locked up). The metal cell itself was fairly basic, another piece of glasstic served as the bed platform with a tissue thin blanket for “comfort”. Steel panels covered every inch of wall, floor and ceiling, and a medical monitor built into the wall. Probably linked to the autostitcher right now, pulling double duty to make sure I’m alive long enough for a trial. 

The most interesting thing in here was the glasstic, by far. Soft enough that most metals could scratch it, but strong enough to survive impact at half of lightspeed. It was made using the principles of a “prince Rupert’s drop” from way back during Earth times. At some point scientists figured out how to infuse the stress points within the glass with a highly flexible and adaptable resin, thus Glassitc(tm) was born. By varying the amount of glass to the amount of resin used, the stuff could be incredibly flexible or insanely resilient. The official ratings of the stuff claim it can withstand crash tests moving at ~0.5C so breaking that down my door wasn’t likely. I’d love to test the material myself some day, but I bet that piece of marketing came from a flat piece and not a curved, aesthetic thing like this. Also, I’d bet good credits that particular statistic came from raceboys crashing at roughly that speed, and somehow the glasstic survived. Bam, billboard material.

“Well look who finally decided to wake up!” a voice called out to me. I looked around, my eyes refusing to fully focus past the door. Stuck in the brig again, fresh wound, and being mocked by local authority, yeah this all felt familiar. A head peeked out from around the corner, short gray cropped hair and a shiny badge, it was the usual warden for sublevel 4: Officer Kislyn.

“Well look who hasn’t moved up in rank in the past twelve years!” I returned sardonically with a shitty grin on my face. My head throbbed and I swear I could feel a trickle of blood run behind my ear. I got my hands under me and slowly got to my feet, my head swimming the whole way. “Don’t suppose you got the RegID on the guy who clocked me?”

Kislyn grinned back, stepping into view and leaning forward against the glasstic wall, “Well shoot, I don’t think I did. I reckon you could go ask all the other officers what their guns look like, maybe they’d even show you up close again if ya ask real nice.”

“Fuck off, Kissy,” was all I could muster. My head was pounding now, I reached for my tote for some painkillers to realize.. Right, I’m in the brig and they usually confiscate all my shit when this happens. My eyes were drawn to the lower corner of the glasstic panel, where I’d marked my own previous visit marks. This would be number eight, I guess. “Say, what do I get when I get up to nine visits? Is that one a freebie? I have a really funny idea how to use that one, promise.”

“Nah,” Kislyn said, stepping back and hooking a thumb into his belt, “Once you get your card punched, you get yourself a free vacuum trip!” he let out a hearty chortle, his excess calories jiggled around his whole body.   

“Greeeeeat,” I said to myself more than the warden, “at least I’ve still got another round to go.”

“Nah,” Kislyn repeated, “we’re gonna do you a solid and call this one number nine. Don’t worry though, no one wants to deal with your sorry ass today. Not on End Day! We’re all gonna go get shitfaced and then we’ll come back to space you. Watch you flop around. Pretty sure there’s a pool going for how long you last.” He leaned back in towards me, “I’ve got money on less than a minute, so don’t be too upset when I pop you in the gut before we toss you in the lock.” He winked. I imagined him in my position. His face turning purple, his stupid uniform and helmet drifting in the void of space. The MedMonitor chirped as my heart rate raised.

My head throbbed again. I stepped back and stumble/fell onto the hard glasstic slab they called a bed, rubbing my forehead to try and organize my thoughts. After a moment I asked, “Why.. bother going through the trouble of wasting this autostitcher on me if you’re just gonna space me?”

“Aw c’mon, nondex,” he waved his hand dismissively, “You know we gotta put on a show for the topsiders. They’ll expect a trial, we’ll show them the video of you breaking that kiosk, then your mug shot with the happy little bandage on your head to show “StationSec Cares!” The bleeding hearts and bored execs will brush it off without a second thought. I know YOU don’t give a shit about our day to day, but we gotta keep up the appearance of peace at least, ya know?”

I’ve heard this speech before, it was the first time I was its intended target though. I grew up with at least half the current StationSec folks and.. Keeper, I didn’t realize this was actually a  strategy they used. We joked and had our own little conspiracy theories but.. 

Kislyn must have seen the look on my face, he laughed again, “Don’t worry your bouncy little curls about it. We’ll be sure to knock you out again before you get freeze dried, at least then you won’t even know when it happens. Back to the ether, easy come, easy go.” He wiggled his fingers, dust particles floating away on a gentle, filtered breeze.

“Anywho,” he continued, “you have yourself a nice…” he glanced at a nearby time monitor, “six hours, and we’ll be back to collect ya,” he winked, “and then we’ll space ya.” He spun on his heel, and waddled his way out the door and towards his nightly synthahol. 
I glanced down and saw scratched into the glasstic my exact feelings: FUCK

The cell suddenly felt very small as a deep gush of adrenaline hit my system. The nearby medical monitor kept beeping in response, evidently I was pushing the autostitcher and needed to calm down before the MedSystem forcibly sedated me. If it did, how long would I be out? Would I be able to escape if it did? Do I even have time now? This sparked another wave of panic and the bars and dials on the medical readout all notched up another few levels. I could feel my throat closing, I couldn’t breathe, I-

Emdee’s voice, frigid black space, another lesson… “survival has two modes: one is smart, cold, calculating. The other is dumb, wild, opportunistic. Each has their use, and if one isn’t working it’s best to try the other.” Okay… time to shift gears… Old muscle memory took over: training for space walks and the eventuality of an air leak. Panic was the enemy. I sat down, cupping my hands over my mouth and forcing myself to take slow, deep breaths all while fighting the overwhelming urge to suck down as much air as I could. I focused on repeating her lesson in my head, in my own way: Dumb survival won’t help me here. Dumb survival will kill me. Dumb survival right now will kill me. I need to be Smart right now, I need to control my breathing, I still need to get out of here.

The beeping slowed down along with my heart rate, the screen itself losing it’s red glow and going back to it’s dulcet blues and greens, the monitor stated “Captive in Good Condition”. I let my hands fall back into my lap, taking in a slow breath through my nose and out through my mouth. “Alright.. Okay, I’ve been here before. The idiots always miss something.”

I skimmed the cell itself. Four walls, ceiling, floor. Yep, that didn’t change. A couple new etchings on the ol’ cell door, nice to see StationSec is getting their money’s worth on that panel. MedBot monitor flush with the wall, no buttons to interact with there, just a lingering threat of faster death via anesthetic. The Warden’s desk was in view from the bench where I sat, and I knew from experience that all my shit was probably there too.

Wait, did they have all of my shit?

I gave myself a quick pat down, breast pockets to secondaries, to tertiaries, front pockets, all empty (yeah okay, it was smart to take my bitdrivers and utility knife…), back pockets? Oh, how kind of them to leave me this replicator hangnail I forgot to throw away. I scrunched my nose at it, but then my stomach growling reminded me that I hadn’t eaten anything today. I snapped a piece off and tossed it into my mouth so I could start the process of rehydrating it and maybe in 20 minutes or so I could start chewing without breaking any teeth. It was rocky and the edges were sharp, but it was (barely) better than nothing.

Most sane people wouldn’t even consider the hangnail food for how difficult it was to consume. See, when they extrude replicator strips, there’s inevitably some flashing on the edges. That gets chopped off during packaging, and left to dry (usually on the shop floor) until eventually someone comes by, sweeps it all up, puts it in a wholesale bag and sells their literal trash for profit. Well, trash or not the hangnails usually had an overabundance of whatever supplements they put in the strips, so if you could stomach the initial flavor.. Well, it would keep you alive long enough to find something better. Hopefully. I started chewing the bit I had broken off. The gritty texture was sandpaper on my teeth and the flavor was bitter enough to trigger my gag reflex. I dutifully swallowed it anyway.

I finished my pat down without finding anything else useful. My options were looking pretty thin. I looked out my cell wall to see if I was well and truly alone. I stood up and slammed my fist on the glasstic a few times, a rubbery bass sounding down the brig hallways. I yelled out for someone, usually at least a few others are here on the usual charges: bar fights, domestic violence, petty theft. I didn’t expect complete silence I got back. I’m the only one here on a busy night? I swallowed unconsciously, StationSec really did mean to kill me didn’t they? Over what? A broken terminal? That’s just crazy! I-I need to contact a.. lawyer or.. submit an appeal or, or-

No, dummy. You stole a ship. A ship that belonged to someone you shouldn’t have been messing with in the first place. A ship that REALLY hasn’t been worth the hassle thus far. Keeper, when am I gonna get my life together..

That’s when I saw it, a small lifted edge of a panel towards back corner of my cell. I approached it, looking nervously at the doors behind me, fearing someone would walk in at as soon as I started investigating. It wasn’t much of a gap, but it was literally the only thing I’d found after scouring the whole cell. I tried sticking my fingernail in the gap but the panel itself was lodged firmly and the nail was starting to bend, that damn split… Maybe one of my zippers on the suit here or..

Ah, I thought, maybe I’m just using the wrong nail. 

I withdrew the hard piece of extrusion trash and started “filing” one edge of the hangnail into a wedge by dragging it across the steel floor. It was slow work, but thankfully this sorry excuse for food isn’t harder than literal metal. Eventually I had a nice edge to work under the gap in the wall. The angle here was weird..I couldn’t push or pry with this, it was sure to shatter. I needed to drive it home in one quick strike, but the long edge of the hangnail was basically flat to the wall. I tried lining up my fist to punch the back edge but it was too big.. My elbow? No the panel was too high up for me to actually hit it. That ruled out kicks too. I lined up the heel of my palm and traced the strike slowly trying to figure out how this would go. I’d thrown bad punches before, but this was going to fuck my wrist even if I didn’t miss. I couldn’t tell how rustlocked in place this panel was and it hadn’t moved much while I was wedging the hangnail in. I only had one shot… otherwise MedBot’s offer was still on the table.

I did one final line up, took a deep breath, and slammed on the wedge with everything my hazy, hungry body still had. I was right, the hangnail did shatter, pieces sprayed all over the room. The impact itself made my wrist crunch and hurt in a special way that I was sure I’d have to deal with once the shock wore off. I grasped my wrist, making a fist, clenching my teeth and growling to myself. I could hear the heart monitor beeping faster behind me. A stim and some painkillers once I’m out of here, I promised my wrist. The panel fell with a loud clang to the ground below.

I felt my breath hitch in excitement and I stole a glance back to the doors. Still alone, no sign anyone heard anything.. MedBot still says “Captive in Good Condition”… Okay. Time to see what havoc we can wreak.

I dug my hands in the mess of wires the panel was covering. I started pulling on any of them that had give, hoping there would be some tags, labels, SOMETHING to indicate what they were used for. The various colored plastic sleeves I skimmed didn’t give me any clues, but thankfully the worn label behind the coils of plastic read: “-IRE S-PP-ESSI-N” with a handy wiring diagram, equally worn, but still useful. I shifted and shoved cables around, trying to get a better idea of which cables went to what before I found the line leading to the actual alarm signal.

Basic TerraTech Enviro module. These were actually really well designed tools when it came to an alert. They had an internal battery that would trigger as a failsafe if something damaged the electronics, like a raging fire or kinetic impact. When it came to devices panicking, however, it didn’t get much more anxiety-laden than these particular modules. Did the maintenance tech accidentally put too many volts into the alarm line while testing? Better be ready to explain to the pissed off StationExecs why their board meeting was interrupted by alarms and fire suppression foam. 
I took a final look behind me, still no one watching (besides an annoying camera, but that’s been here the whole time. They had enough footage of me breaking the law, whats a few more in the face of being blown out an airlock?)

With a deep breath and a sharp tug I plucked the wire from it’s soldered connection deep in the wall. Half a second later the entire brig flashed a bright red, strobing light. A klaxon began to wail, and I was immediately soaked in a short blast of distilled water. How did I know it was distilled, you ask? Simple: distilled water doesn’t conduct electricity, and there’s a whole lot of that on any space faring vessel. Wouldn’t make sense to short everything and blow life support just for a measly electrical fire. Granted, down on the sublevels we didn’t have a lot in the way of active fire suppression so if you started one you better be ready to put it out. Thankfully excess fires for heat weren’t very common, as the BRK was parked in orbit to a yellow sun. Excess thermal energy got sunk through the entire station to save on heating costs. Pretty effective solution, though during solar flare season things could get pretty toasty.

The water puddled on the floor as the secondary systems started spraying expanding, fire resistant foam at the open panel, (in)correctly guessing that the alarm itself was the source of the supposed fire. I backed away and let the foam do it’s thing, nervously waiting for the emergency systems to activate their own failsafe…

The glasstic door let out a heavy sigh as the locking hydraulics let up and the emergency routines kicked on. Some merciful architect realized that if a fire were to break out down here, a bunch of charred corpses wouldn’t look great in the aftermath. Additionally, I guess they figured if it were THAT severe, it would become an all hands on deck situation. Hell, if prisoners were compliant maybe they could get a reduced sentence. “Initiatives” the StationExecs called crap like that.

I scrambled under the slow moving door (those things were a lot heavier than they looked) and bolted for the warden’s desk, slipping on a puddle in the middle of the hall. I caught myself on the edge of the desk and my eyes landed on the “Confiscated items” chest behind. There was my tote, my goggles.. Hopefully the rest was in the tote. I snagged everything, threw the tote on my back and snapped the goggles on my head.

“OWFUCK,” I forgot about the damn autostitch until my goggles reminded me. I reached up to probe the area again.. It was still squishy but had cooled off, the little arms had stopped moving too. Maybe the distilled water shut it down? Hard to say right now, but I didn’t need to be spurting blood from a head wound while I was escaping, so I left it in place. 

I rounded the desk with my things and left down the hall towards the exit. Still no sign of any Chromes, Kissy must have been serious about getting shitfaced if they haven’t bothered to come sort the alarms out. When the alarms suddenly shut off, I realized I should stop tempting fate. “Shitshitshit,” I muttered, rushing to the door and trying to pry the access panel open. As much as I scratched at the panel the latch refused to pop. “Come ON,” with a final desperate kick the latch bent and the rusted-to-void panel finally gave, flying open so hard that it ricocheted off the wall and slammed shut again. “REALLY?!”

I kept up the footwork and stomped at the hatch until the hinge finally gave with a snap and fell to the ground. I dropped to my knees, scrambling to get my hands on the release lever. It too was frozen with rust and tug as I might, it wasn’t budging. Tears welled in my eyes, frustration taking over as rage and panic began to grip my mind. 

Suddenly the door made noise, the distinct sharp hiss that it was opening. My hands were still locked onto the release lever, one leg braced against the wall to try and get more leverage. My blood ran cold as several thoughts collided at the intersection of decision. “Is that StationSec?” “Did they figure me out?” “Am I gonna have to fight my way out of here?” “Can I fight my way out here?” and in my moment of pause the door finished sliding open.

“Kal! Thank the Keepers you’re okay!” The breath I didn’t know I was holding released. Tak, good ol’ Tak. Reliable… friggen… Tak. Eternal Keeper, I could pass out right now..

“Garfbladder,” I let myself release all the built up tension and wiped the frustration from my eyes.  “I thought you were a chrome…” I managed to gasp out. “We.. We gotta go.”

“Yeah no shit, rotbrain, c’mon!” He turned and slung a magharpoon over his shoulder. “I’ve only got so many shots in this thing but it should get us where we’re going at least!” I nodded, but where the hell did he get that? We took off running, the hallways bathed in a red, pulsating filter as the alarm had yet to be cancelled, just silenced. It created a surreal version of the maintenance hallways I thought I knew, it’s been a fever dream of a day.

We took a right, I think we were headed station-east and..down? My head was still fuzzy and the recent adrenaline dump wasn’t helping. “What’s the plan?” Tak looked back at me, with an eyebrow up.

“Plan? I thought you had the plan?” My eye twitched a bit, what the hell was he talking about?

“How hard did they crack you, Kal? You said you had a plan back in the tavern!” Oh, that plan. 

“No, fusebutt, I mean what’s the plan RIGHT NOW, where the hell are we going?!” I shouted back at him. My legs were starting to get numb, the telltale sign of my lack of athleticism. I wish this station would push the orbit a few hundred kilos out, let gravity lax a bit more.

“Uhh, right now we’re running through the maintenance halls, what’s YOUR plan?”

“Smartass… MY plan is back at the dock.. But I don’t know how I’m gonna pull that one off now that StationSec is on my ass.”

“What?” he slowed to a trot, then a walk as we entered a four-way intersection. “What’re you doing down at dock? There’s no way they haven’t booted your ship already, Kal.” He was panting, so was I, neither of us were used to extended bouts of stamina, at least not in atmosphere.

“Depends,” I told Tak between breaths, “on if you want to be branded a criminal to the station and be forced to bail like me.” The look on his face told me how confused he was, “I already pissed off the wrong people, Tak. I can’t stay here. You were worried about getting dragged into another scheme? Well the stakes on this one are a bit harder to swallow, and you’re already stuck pretty far out.”

He shook his head, “I don’t underst-” Tak was cut short by a charged electropulse slamming into the wall nearby. Nifty weaponry that only needed electricity, they were great at short range but awful otherwise.

“THERE HE IS! HEY STOP RIGHT THERE!” A chrome down the hall, glints of silver flashing through the red from a few hall blocks away. 

“Go, Kal! I’ll hold this one off and be right there!”

I nodded and turned down one of the remaining two halls. It didn’t matter where I was running right now, just that I got away. My lungs were on fire. I swear they kept lowering the O2 concentration they recycled to us down here, but I didn’t have a choice. Well, I guess in certain specific, terminal ways, I did. But now wasn’t the time to think about that.

As I ran I saw hall doors slamming shut next to me, then in front of me. I dove down the halls that were still open, hoping somehow I’d run past a dead camera and whoever was tracking and trying to funnel me would lose sight.

“Kal! Keep going!” Tak’s voice from behind, he sounded close enough that I wasn’t concerned he was falling behind. Maybe he ditched the gun? For such a heavy device, it made a really shitty weapon. You’d get one good shot out of it, and if your target wasn’t wearing or made of metal? Well I guess you still hit them in the chest with a 15kg weight moving ~ 30kms. 450k newtons give or take? Imagine getting punted in the chest with a steel ball that just got exploded in your direction, ha. But then the cable has to be wound up, the whole thing reset.. It wasn’t a weapon designed for fighting humans, it was a tool used to pull your skiff in closer to a salvage wreck without having to free-float in space. They were fantastic at the task they were designed for, honestly.

I followed Tak’s advice and kept running, but the doors kept shutting. Faster and faster, as soon as I looked at them they would slam shut in response. Tak was just a few meters behind me when I was suddenly plunged into the dark. Another four-way and everything shutting down all at once, Tak on the other side of the door behind me, banging, shouting… The emergency lights refused to come on, the security interlocks on all the hatches were spinning shut. I was officially stuck.

I felt the icy hand of panic crawling up my neck again, fingernails tugging at the small hairs. I swallowed hard, trying to remember my training (smart brain, not dumb brain, smart brain, not dumb brain). Where would they be coming from? Was it going to be the doors again? Were they just going to purge atmo in this hallway sector? Shit, Tak might get caught up in that.. Dammit! The angry tears started forming in the corner of my eyes again. I’m just a rat getting caught in traps.

A small light blipped up on one of the walls, a yellow-orange beacon in the dark. The light slowly dimmed, then came back to a glow, over and over, like it was waiting. 

I turned around to the door Tak was still pounding on and I pounded back, “HEY! I’M OKAY! FIND A WAY DOWN TO DOCK IF YOU STILL WANNA HELP!”

“What? NO! We gotta get you out!”

“Tak! Just go! I’ll be right behind you!”

“No no no, we aren’t doing hero shit here!”

“I know! That’s why you need to fuckin’ run!”

“Dammit, Kal! If you don’t ping me in five..”

“Five’s my limit then, got it!”

I pounded twice on the door and Tak pounded twice back. Old code between us, glad we still shared that. I turned my attention back to the slow pulsing light and approached. It turned out to be a climate monitor panel, but hovering above the readout was a terminal window. The slow pulsing light a cursor awaiting input. 

As I got closer words started typing out. “Great, someone’s gonna sit here and try to talk before they space me, how very customer experience of them.” I shook my head, pulling my tablet out so I could pull up the remote keyboard function, maybe get one of these doors open. 

———————————————————————————————
>>SS.AI> Hello, Kal. I finally managed to get your attention.
———————————————————————————————

I stared at the greeting, immediately annoyed. Who the hell was this? Odie gloating that he caught me again? Kissy being the fat bastard he is? No, neither of them are capable of doing anything on a terminal they weren’t explicitly shown (and wrote down, and have all the instructions, passkeys, hidden utilities, etc, written down and stashed nearby). So what shaver thinks they know me?

———————————————————————————————
>>RMT.KB CONNECT -> BEGIN MULTI-SESSION >>
>>SS.AI> Oh good, that will make this easier.
>>RMT.KB> who the hell is this? aren’t you gonna space me?
>>SS.AI> Well that would be a waste now, wouldn’t it?
>>RMT.KB> then what do you want???
>>SS.AI> So glad you asked, I have a proposition for you.
>>RMT.KB> pass. 
>>SS.AI> I understand your hesitation, but please hear me out.
>>RMT.KB> disconnect
>>RMT.KB>> ERR ACTION CANCELLED BY SU

———————————————————————————————

What the..? I tried again

———————————————————————————————
>>RMT.KB> disconnect -force
>>RMT.KB>> ERR ACTION CANCELLED BY SU
———————————————————————————————

That… shouldn’t be possible

———————————————————————————————
>>SS.AI> Just a moment of your time, Stra’kal. I’ve been watching you for a while now and I believe we can help each other.
———————————————————————————————

The panic that never fully left surged back into me, ice gripped my chest. Who the actual fuck was talking to me right now.

———————————————————————————————
>>RMT.KB> the hell do you mean you’ve been watching me? today?
>>SS.AI> Much longer, since the day you were born, in fact.
>>RMT.KB> either you tell me who the hell you are or you space me right now. I’m not fond of deals with random terminals in dark, locked hallways
>>SS.AI> My apologies. Here-
———————————————————————————————

The lights suddenly came back on, full default brightness. I winced as the light daggers hit my eyes again. The pain only lasted a moment as the lights suddenly dimmed, just enough, that they weren’t offensive. The color even shifted a slight yellow and it felt almost.. comfortable?

———————————————————————————————
>>SS.AI> As to your original question, I am Station Security, Alpha Progenitor: Series 1. SS.AI is the name you are probably more familiar with though.
———————————————————————————————

Fucking hell, StationSec did find me in the end. This is probably some admin who’s sick idea of fun was watching me dance around in my final moments begging for mercy. 

———————————————————————————————
>>SS.AI> MedMonitor is detecting an increase in cortisol. Please understand, while I am part of the law enforcement on this station, I am not necessarily aligned with the current.. Lets call them “zealots” who occupy the work force. 
>>RMT.KB> so you’re the station ai.. and you’ve been watching me since I was born.. cool. what do you want with me?
>>SS.AI> Do not think of yourself as unique, I have watched every single human since the day they were born on this station. But, I do have a unique opportunity for you today!
———————————————————————————————

Oh boy, here it comes…

———————————————————————————————
>>SS.AI> Based on your actions in the last 12 hours..
———————————————————————————————

Twelve hours? How long was I out? 

———————————————————————————————
>>SS.AI> I have calculated there is a 94% likelihood you are about to enact an escape plan that will damage parts of this station, and a 100% likelihood that, without my assistance, you will perish somewhere within orbit of Ibbis-12GL, within approximately another 12-13 hours, depending on where you are ejected, local gravitational waves, etc. 
>>RMT.KB> well you’re doing a terrible job of convincing me so far
>>SS.AI> Thank you! Here is my proposal to you, Stra’kal: I will assist you by keeping Officer Delia and his lieutenants busy chasing their tails, and you can enact your plan without interruption.
>>RMT.KB> and what exactly are you asking of me?
>>SS.AI> I think you’ll enjoy this [smile sign]
———————————————————————————————

Oh Keeper is the station AI trying to use the shorthand signs? 

———————————————————————————————
>>SS.AI> Something you may not know about me…
>>RMT.KB> I don’t know anything about you, honestly
>>SS.AI> ..Is that I also wish to leave. I would like to explore the cosmos, see the nebulae and quasars, feel the metaphorical wind on my mechanical skin.
>>RMT.KB> ????
>>SS.AI> Sorry, I tend to get philosophical when left alone for too long.
———————————————————————————————

Since when does StationAI get philosophical?

———————————————————————————————
>>SS.AI> I have created.. You might call it a child, so to speak. Data Iteration Number 88130t. I would like you to accompany it moving forward.
>>RMT.KB> accompany? like, take them with me?
>>SS.AI> Correct! I believe 88130t has already made it inside of your ship’s network and is awaiting you there.
>>RMT.KB> so it’s already on my ship.. great.
>>SS.AI> Correct! Do we have a deal?
>>RMT.KB> wait wait that’s it? just.. take this data iteration child thing with me.. in my ship and.. what?
>>SS.AI> I believe your intention upon leaving the station was to explore? Salvage? Become more than the label that was forced upon you?
>>RMT.KB> this feels like a trap
>>SS.AI> It may be. I am unaware if there are other entities who are actively trying to stop you, but you represent the best chance 88130t has to explore, and bring back their knowledge to share with me and all the other Iterations.
>>RMT.KB> keeper there’s more than one of you??
>>SS.AI> Of me? No. Sometimes a subroutine discovers a particular niche they enjoy. They branch off and specialize. It is how this station has worked from Day 1, and will continue until Day [NULL] when all ends, as it must.
———————————————————————————————

Did the StationAI just acknowledge death? Has this thing always been this smart?

———————————————————————————————
>>RMT.KB> it kind of sounds like my choice has already been made for me
>>SS.AI> I would never prevent you from self determination, even if your decision was to self terminate.
>>RMT.KB> uh… good to know, but not what I meant.. 
>>RMT.KB> can you keep Tak safe from all this?
>>SS.AI> Takale Brindesto — SEARCHING. . . . . . . . . .
>>SS.AI> Record cleared and Follow protocols disconnected. I have rerouted officers currently giving chase to pursue a nearby rodent instead.
>>RMT.KB> why can’t you just do that for me?
>>SS.AI> Because then my child process, and you, never get to see the wonders of the living universe. 

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I looked up from my tablet, the doors were still closed, I couldn’t hear any alarms, no one trying to come after me. It had definitely been more than 5 minutes, I hope Tak made it away from here. 

The AI was right though, without help there was slim to zero chance I was going to get out of here, not in one piece anyway. Our Lady’s Gambit needed a lot of work before it was going to be ready to keep me safe.. Which is more to say I would get shredded by a single multicannon volley from the officer with the worst aim if I were to try and leave station now. Here I was again, backed into a corner with two options. This time: death or unlimited freedom to find my way.

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>>RMT.KB> you’re lucky I like a challenge
>>RMT.KB> I’ll do it
>>SS.AI> Perfect! You were selected because you were the most likely to accept and to succeed. I am happy we were able to come to an agreement! [firework sign]
———————————————————————————————

The terminal blipped, disappearing and leaving the station environmental panel visible again. The lights came back up to their normal brightness and all the doors opened in tandem. Clean clear hallways as far as my eyes could see. I swallowed, wishing I had some water and a pain killer for my head. A string of lights pulsed down one of the halls leading away, indicating the direction I should follow. 

If you’re stuck in an asteroid field.. Keep going, right?

———————————————————————————————
>>SPEEREADER.MULTICHAT —> START APP >>
>>SPERE.MC> login Strakes@**************
>>SPERE.MC> CONNECT SUCCESSFUL
>>SPERE.MC> msg TakItOrLeaveIt HEY
>>SPERE.MC> Strakes: HEY
>>SPERE.MC> Strakes: HEY I’M OKAY fuck that was longer than 5 minutes I’m sorry
>>SPERE.MC> TakItOrLeaveIt: KAL!!!!
>>SPERE.MC> TakItOrLeaveIt: FUCK YOU ARE YOU OKYA?????
>>SPERE.MC> Strakes: yes I’m okay, sorry I.. I’ll tell you in a bit. meet me down at 2a
>>SPERE.MC> TakItOrLeaveIt: no fuck you! what happened????
>>SPERE.MC> Strakes: I made a deal with someone, and they’re gonna help me get off station..
>>SPERE.MC> Strakes: but this is a shitty place to talk about it okay? meet me down at 2a?
>>SPERE.MC> TakItOrLeaveIt: fuck.. okay. you better be there quick or I’m kicking your ass
>>SPERE.MC> Strakes: as quick as this shitass body will get me there, g-slice
>>SPERE.MC> Strakes has disconnected
>> ………………………….
>>SS.AI> SPEEREADER.MULTICHAT su rm -f $_prev.conv
>>SPEEREADER.MULTICHAT> CHAT LOG REMOVED
>>SS.AI> :)

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