Neo Chronicles: Black Void
Episode 43: I'm Dying
Table of Contents
I don't think I was out for long. Feels like I jus' closed my eyes for a second, but the first thing I notice when I walk out my room is how different the ship looks.
An' by different, I mean not toe up beyond recognition. The place—or this hallway at least—looks almost official. The lights is fixed, an' they shinin' off the newly remodeled chrome walls. Ain't no wires exposed from the ceilin'. Don't see no fire hazards.
I head down the halls an' notice small lil' mechanical basketball-sized orbs or somethin' roamin' about. Some're rollin', some're floatin'. A few stop in front of a wall, an' pull out a fine, tiny lil' mechanical arm t'tend t'some other repairs, then move on t'the next thing.
I shrug my shoulders at the sight, an' continue down the way, passin' by different people. Their reactions t'the rollin' robotic drones is a varied as you can imagine.
Some come off as paranoid, thinkin' they shouldn't get outside help from a guy they don't know.
Some welcome the repairs, statin' that they're too desperate t'be picky.
Both sides got some merit, but for me, it's all background noise at this point.
I make it downstairs an' see the guy I came t'see. He stands on top of a floatin' platform some thirty or so feet in the air. There's a bunch of holographic screens around him. Each got a different set of pictures an' readouts. They likely all diagnostics of the ship. More of those mechanical basketballs is floatin' around him, aidin' with repairs.
“Is there something I can assist you with?” the longnecked, cybernetic man asks.
Mallec's so into his work that he doesn't even bother t'turn an' greet me. He's so far off the ground, I'm surprised he even saw me comin'.
“You said you know somethin' about my sword?”
I ended up bringin' the sword with me. It's holstered along my back like usual. I pull it out an' hol' it up, hopin' the dude looks at it. Maybe give it another scan or somethin'. I dunno.
“I did?”
Mallec's back is still to me. All of his attention is devoted t'dem holo-screens in front of him. The floatin' orbs around him hurriedly move back an' forth t'different places in the room, then back t'him for whatever reason.
“This 'archaic piece of tech' that only 'pawns of the government' used t'use, or somethin' like that.”
I let the sword's edge hit the floor. Didn't expect it t'make such a loud noise, but with how big this wide open cargo room is, I guess the echoes travel.
“Ah yes.”
I've finally got his attention. He turns around an' the floatin' platform lowers t'my level. His drones continue with their repairs up top. His eyes—or are those his jus' some goggles over his eyes—flash orange for a second.
“I can see the nanites in your bloodstream right now.”
“The what now?”
“And the gas that's always circling you—what is that—oxygen?” Mallec pauses t'walk around me. After mutterin' somethin' t'himself, he goes on, “Nice little trick. It adapted to provide you with the necessary air for your alien species. I see.”
Dude's still examinin' me. His eyes flash a couple more times. I tense my shoulders in response. I'm gettin' uncomfortable, but he's still goin' on. He's completely oblivious t'my clear inaudible objections t'the violation of my personal space.
“And each time you breathe out carbon dioxide,” he goes on. “It quickly converts it to oxygen. You have your own personal atmosphere constantly encircling you. If you could somehow manage to shield yourself from the varying climates of other worlds—something more effective than that adaptiveWear—then –”
“What're you talkin' about?”
I raise my backhand, reflexively. I'm hopin' the more obvious threat of assault is enough t'clue him in, but he ignores the gesture.
“How long have you been using that sword?”
“I dunno, dude. A while.” After answerin', I lower my guard an' untense. “Lately though, I've had t'use it a lot. With the raid, an' gettin' shot by a space laser –”
“Ah, that would explain that,” he says, snappin' his fingers.
“What?”
“The more you use that weapon, the more it bonds with you. It's made to absorb and redirect energy into its user. It does that by filling the user's body with nanites. Those nanites are robust little mechanisms. They can increase adrenaline levels, heal internal or external injuries, enhance reaction times, or what have you.”
“Nanites? I got tiny robots swimmin' in me?”
“Billions of them from what I can tell.”
“How do I get rid of them?”
“Oh, that would take quite some doing at this point. Once the nanites are there, they're designed to stay through the most turbulent of times. However, if you were to stay separated from the sword over an extended period of time, perhaps a year or so, then they'd eventually work their way out of your system.”
“So jus' don't use the sword? Simple enough.”
“Not really. Once the nanites are as embedded in one's body—especially to the extent as they are embedded in yours—rejecting whatever protocols in place to keep everything in check is the worst thing one could possibly do. The body develops a dependency. The nanites operate by using whatever energy is around them. The sword ensures that the energy they draw upon is external, but without the sword—without a conduit of some sort—the nanites will start drawing on the user's own energy. Over time, they will drain you until there's nothing left.”
“An' there ain't nothin' I can do about that?”
“No. Not at all,” he says so matter of fact.
I guess my face frowns at his response, cuz he sorta changes his tune t'somethin' a lil' lighter as he goes on.
“I have heard rumors of people finding ways to the mitigate, and even negate, the negative withdrawal effects,” he pauses for a moment, then looks away. “But rumors are all they were.”
One of the floatin' spheres flies its way down by us, stoppin' in front of Mallec. The sphere's top opens up, an' a holographic screen pops out, displayin' another one of 'dem data readouts. Mallec's attention is diverted for a second, but as he presses somethin' on the screen, he goes on t'say,
“There is no tech out there in the galaxy that is advanced enough to track and extract all the nanites out of a person's body without adversely affecting the host. And to make matters worse, the nanites have a built in defense mechanism that causes them to replicate to prevent just that. Once they're bonded to a host, they stay there.”
I see him press a few more spots on the screen, an' it updates t'reflect whatever changes or data input he gives, then he walks off. I see another one of those orbs meet him up ahead, an' not knowin' whether he wants me to or not, I follow behind.
“This is why no one of a sound mind even bothers with it,” he goes on. “In fact, there are strict regulations in place forbidding the use of any military or law enforcement official from using it, or the accompanying armor.”
The doorway we approach has a frame that lights up as we approach it. On the other side of the door is supposed t'be the hallway, but once we pass through it, we end up in a completely different area of the ship. Looks like the engine room from what I can tell, an' there's a few robotic spheres floatin' around here, too.
Don't think we had mini-teleport fields before, so that's definitely an upgrade.
“Oh, and that's another thing,” Mallec mentions. “The sword is supposed to come with a suit of armor. Maybe without it, the effects might not be as dire? I'm not entirely sure.”
He looks over at another holographic readout. He seems pleased with the data as each page is presented t'him.
“Man, that's some bull!” I say. “Crud! So you tellin' me I'm dyin'? An' the only thing keepin' me alive is the thing that's killin' me?”
I bring the sword out in front of me. I'm not exactly sure how I feel knowin' what I know now. Been treatin' the thing like it's some big, magical, somethin'-another, but now? I mean, it looks like its always looked. One big, two-handed, double edged weapon.
“Dangit Ri'lar!” I say. “Dude tol' me it's jus' gonna enhance my aura. What does that even mean.”
“Oh that's a term I haven't heard in quite some time. There are various fields of study, martial arts disciplines, and spiritual beliefs that all center around truly defining one's aura.”
The doorway we walked through lights up again, an' Mallec walks through. I sigh as I look at my sword once again, then follow behind.
On the other side is the hallway I've become so familiar with. Same ol' dudes walkin' the way. Same ol' floatin' spheres stoppin' randomly t'fix small things outta place. We continue our lil jaunt down the way.
“It's not that much of a stretch to say that the weapon and one's aura are connected,” Mallec goes on. “No one quite knows what an aura actually is, but it functions as a source of energy. Apparently, every living creature has one, and if you're to believe the religions around it, it is the force that fuels life. Supposedly, if you can harness your own aura, you'll be able to do extraordinary things. I myself haven't delved that far into the study, so I'm not sure how much of it is fact or fiction, but it's all fascinating.”
“Yeah, it does actually. An' I'd be real interested in learnin' more if I didn't jus' find out I'm gonna die.”
“Fraternizing with pirates, not knowing whether or not the next day will bring death by starvation, firefight, or execution, what's one more worry on the list?”
I poke out my lips at the remark. I see him stop t'glance at me for a moment before entering in the main control room of the ship. There isn't anything that shows it, but it just feels like he's smirkin' under that gas mask of his. I roll my eyes an' follow behind.
“You tryna joke now?”
“Merely an observation. Regardless, the repairs to this ship are just about complete. Your pantry now has half of my current food supply. My obligations to your crew have been fulfilled.”
“And we appreciate that, doctor,” Scion says, steppin' outta the blue.
Dude's lookin' at a chart holographically projected from whatever handheld device he's holdin'. Almost looks like the same thing Mallec's been lookin' at. More ship related stuff.
“Almost makes up for this little detour,” he adds in.
“I should hope it more than makes up for it,” Mallec responds. “In spite of whatever first impressions you have, I am not some soulless cretin with no regard for life. I'll be leaving these repair drones for you as well, and while I'm not sure how long it will last, I've given you all I could spare of my food supply.”
“I'm sure we'll be able to make do with it,” FengRi says showin' up with some box under his arm.
They all pass glances at each other, ignorin' me, then Mallec speaks up sayin',
“Well, according to my latest diagnostics, your ship seems to be operating at optimal levels in all categories. I'd say my work here is done.”
The doorframe lights up, turnin' into another one of those teleport fields. The group in the control room see Mallec walk through it an' disappear. The light immediately cuts off as he does.
Then it's business as usual.
Episode 43: I'm Dying
Table of Contents
I don't think I was out for long. Feels like I jus' closed my eyes for a second, but the first thing I notice when I walk out my room is how different the ship looks.
An' by different, I mean not toe up beyond recognition. The place—or this hallway at least—looks almost official. The lights is fixed, an' they shinin' off the newly remodeled chrome walls. Ain't no wires exposed from the ceilin'. Don't see no fire hazards.
I head down the halls an' notice small lil' mechanical basketball-sized orbs or somethin' roamin' about. Some're rollin', some're floatin'. A few stop in front of a wall, an' pull out a fine, tiny lil' mechanical arm t'tend t'some other repairs, then move on t'the next thing.
I shrug my shoulders at the sight, an' continue down the way, passin' by different people. Their reactions t'the rollin' robotic drones is a varied as you can imagine.
Some come off as paranoid, thinkin' they shouldn't get outside help from a guy they don't know.
Some welcome the repairs, statin' that they're too desperate t'be picky.
Both sides got some merit, but for me, it's all background noise at this point.
I make it downstairs an' see the guy I came t'see. He stands on top of a floatin' platform some thirty or so feet in the air. There's a bunch of holographic screens around him. Each got a different set of pictures an' readouts. They likely all diagnostics of the ship. More of those mechanical basketballs is floatin' around him, aidin' with repairs.
“Is there something I can assist you with?” the longnecked, cybernetic man asks.
Mallec's so into his work that he doesn't even bother t'turn an' greet me. He's so far off the ground, I'm surprised he even saw me comin'.
“You said you know somethin' about my sword?”
I ended up bringin' the sword with me. It's holstered along my back like usual. I pull it out an' hol' it up, hopin' the dude looks at it. Maybe give it another scan or somethin'. I dunno.
“I did?”
Mallec's back is still to me. All of his attention is devoted t'dem holo-screens in front of him. The floatin' orbs around him hurriedly move back an' forth t'different places in the room, then back t'him for whatever reason.
“This 'archaic piece of tech' that only 'pawns of the government' used t'use, or somethin' like that.”
I let the sword's edge hit the floor. Didn't expect it t'make such a loud noise, but with how big this wide open cargo room is, I guess the echoes travel.
“Ah yes.”
I've finally got his attention. He turns around an' the floatin' platform lowers t'my level. His drones continue with their repairs up top. His eyes—or are those his jus' some goggles over his eyes—flash orange for a second.
“I can see the nanites in your bloodstream right now.”
“The what now?”
“And the gas that's always circling you—what is that—oxygen?” Mallec pauses t'walk around me. After mutterin' somethin' t'himself, he goes on, “Nice little trick. It adapted to provide you with the necessary air for your alien species. I see.”
Dude's still examinin' me. His eyes flash a couple more times. I tense my shoulders in response. I'm gettin' uncomfortable, but he's still goin' on. He's completely oblivious t'my clear inaudible objections t'the violation of my personal space.
“And each time you breathe out carbon dioxide,” he goes on. “It quickly converts it to oxygen. You have your own personal atmosphere constantly encircling you. If you could somehow manage to shield yourself from the varying climates of other worlds—something more effective than that adaptiveWear—then –”
“What're you talkin' about?”
I raise my backhand, reflexively. I'm hopin' the more obvious threat of assault is enough t'clue him in, but he ignores the gesture.
“How long have you been using that sword?”
“I dunno, dude. A while.” After answerin', I lower my guard an' untense. “Lately though, I've had t'use it a lot. With the raid, an' gettin' shot by a space laser –”
“Ah, that would explain that,” he says, snappin' his fingers.
“What?”
“The more you use that weapon, the more it bonds with you. It's made to absorb and redirect energy into its user. It does that by filling the user's body with nanites. Those nanites are robust little mechanisms. They can increase adrenaline levels, heal internal or external injuries, enhance reaction times, or what have you.”
“Nanites? I got tiny robots swimmin' in me?”
“Billions of them from what I can tell.”
“How do I get rid of them?”
“Oh, that would take quite some doing at this point. Once the nanites are there, they're designed to stay through the most turbulent of times. However, if you were to stay separated from the sword over an extended period of time, perhaps a year or so, then they'd eventually work their way out of your system.”
“So jus' don't use the sword? Simple enough.”
“Not really. Once the nanites are as embedded in one's body—especially to the extent as they are embedded in yours—rejecting whatever protocols in place to keep everything in check is the worst thing one could possibly do. The body develops a dependency. The nanites operate by using whatever energy is around them. The sword ensures that the energy they draw upon is external, but without the sword—without a conduit of some sort—the nanites will start drawing on the user's own energy. Over time, they will drain you until there's nothing left.”
“An' there ain't nothin' I can do about that?”
“No. Not at all,” he says so matter of fact.
I guess my face frowns at his response, cuz he sorta changes his tune t'somethin' a lil' lighter as he goes on.
“I have heard rumors of people finding ways to the mitigate, and even negate, the negative withdrawal effects,” he pauses for a moment, then looks away. “But rumors are all they were.”
One of the floatin' spheres flies its way down by us, stoppin' in front of Mallec. The sphere's top opens up, an' a holographic screen pops out, displayin' another one of 'dem data readouts. Mallec's attention is diverted for a second, but as he presses somethin' on the screen, he goes on t'say,
“There is no tech out there in the galaxy that is advanced enough to track and extract all the nanites out of a person's body without adversely affecting the host. And to make matters worse, the nanites have a built in defense mechanism that causes them to replicate to prevent just that. Once they're bonded to a host, they stay there.”
I see him press a few more spots on the screen, an' it updates t'reflect whatever changes or data input he gives, then he walks off. I see another one of those orbs meet him up ahead, an' not knowin' whether he wants me to or not, I follow behind.
“This is why no one of a sound mind even bothers with it,” he goes on. “In fact, there are strict regulations in place forbidding the use of any military or law enforcement official from using it, or the accompanying armor.”
The doorway we approach has a frame that lights up as we approach it. On the other side of the door is supposed t'be the hallway, but once we pass through it, we end up in a completely different area of the ship. Looks like the engine room from what I can tell, an' there's a few robotic spheres floatin' around here, too.
Don't think we had mini-teleport fields before, so that's definitely an upgrade.
“Oh, and that's another thing,” Mallec mentions. “The sword is supposed to come with a suit of armor. Maybe without it, the effects might not be as dire? I'm not entirely sure.”
He looks over at another holographic readout. He seems pleased with the data as each page is presented t'him.
“Man, that's some bull!” I say. “Crud! So you tellin' me I'm dyin'? An' the only thing keepin' me alive is the thing that's killin' me?”
I bring the sword out in front of me. I'm not exactly sure how I feel knowin' what I know now. Been treatin' the thing like it's some big, magical, somethin'-another, but now? I mean, it looks like its always looked. One big, two-handed, double edged weapon.
“Dangit Ri'lar!” I say. “Dude tol' me it's jus' gonna enhance my aura. What does that even mean.”
“Oh that's a term I haven't heard in quite some time. There are various fields of study, martial arts disciplines, and spiritual beliefs that all center around truly defining one's aura.”
The doorway we walked through lights up again, an' Mallec walks through. I sigh as I look at my sword once again, then follow behind.
On the other side is the hallway I've become so familiar with. Same ol' dudes walkin' the way. Same ol' floatin' spheres stoppin' randomly t'fix small things outta place. We continue our lil jaunt down the way.
“It's not that much of a stretch to say that the weapon and one's aura are connected,” Mallec goes on. “No one quite knows what an aura actually is, but it functions as a source of energy. Apparently, every living creature has one, and if you're to believe the religions around it, it is the force that fuels life. Supposedly, if you can harness your own aura, you'll be able to do extraordinary things. I myself haven't delved that far into the study, so I'm not sure how much of it is fact or fiction, but it's all fascinating.”
“Yeah, it does actually. An' I'd be real interested in learnin' more if I didn't jus' find out I'm gonna die.”
“Fraternizing with pirates, not knowing whether or not the next day will bring death by starvation, firefight, or execution, what's one more worry on the list?”
I poke out my lips at the remark. I see him stop t'glance at me for a moment before entering in the main control room of the ship. There isn't anything that shows it, but it just feels like he's smirkin' under that gas mask of his. I roll my eyes an' follow behind.
“You tryna joke now?”
“Merely an observation. Regardless, the repairs to this ship are just about complete. Your pantry now has half of my current food supply. My obligations to your crew have been fulfilled.”
“And we appreciate that, doctor,” Scion says, steppin' outta the blue.
Dude's lookin' at a chart holographically projected from whatever handheld device he's holdin'. Almost looks like the same thing Mallec's been lookin' at. More ship related stuff.
“Almost makes up for this little detour,” he adds in.
“I should hope it more than makes up for it,” Mallec responds. “In spite of whatever first impressions you have, I am not some soulless cretin with no regard for life. I'll be leaving these repair drones for you as well, and while I'm not sure how long it will last, I've given you all I could spare of my food supply.”
“I'm sure we'll be able to make do with it,” FengRi says showin' up with some box under his arm.
They all pass glances at each other, ignorin' me, then Mallec speaks up sayin',
“Well, according to my latest diagnostics, your ship seems to be operating at optimal levels in all categories. I'd say my work here is done.”
The doorframe lights up, turnin' into another one of those teleport fields. The group in the control room see Mallec walk through it an' disappear. The light immediately cuts off as he does.
Then it's business as usual.
