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Hi guys! If you're wondering why I started posting and then stopped it's because everything happened again. I've unexploded one car, but now my van is exploded, and I have a job now and THAT's good, but I've lost my cat (she's missing). So. The blogging will not continue until morale improves.
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An Exit Strategy excerpt from the gunship's point of view when MB is in its systems.
System, System.
The hail was in Company standard. The hard feed address was confirmed and on record, with a single tag in your system, marking it as an unsecured asset with a priority level = null. Shorthand for company equipment that has since been sold or leased and was under a different company’s jurisdiction. Anything other than null would have prompted you to shunt the hail to the humans manning your bridge. Instead, after some deliberation, you send, Acknowledge.
Feed activity has spiked from your humans. Not because of your contact with the loose asset (a SecUnit!), but because of intelligence filtering in from station personnel. You ignore it for the most part, focused almost entirely on managing Port Authority alerts and maintaining position on the edge of station space. You have no idea why you’re up here instead of down there, where your heavily armed crew could be of more use, but things like that were beyond your ken.
Active: hazardous retrieval, bonded clients, go go go go.
SecSystem grabs the packet before you can, lured in by the priority flags in the data. An alarm chimes from one of the bridge consoles and new navigational data flows into you. Exhilaration feels good after so long being stationary. Your new heading has you on an intercept course with the onboard shuttle you dispatched so many cycles ago. That must be where the bonded clients are waiting. Then radar picks up on another gunship signature which is far more interesting to you.
The SecUnit slides through SecSystem and deep into your onboard feed, a tertiary sensation as you go through the shuttle-docking procedures and monitor your humans’ negotiations. Gloved hands palm the arming switch for your ship-to-ship weapons. Neither of you are paying each other much attention, it seems, although a streak of code deep inside your kernel is fascinated by the construct’s presence. The contracts that permitted you to communicate with SecUnits were rare. Having one on board that was conscious and rogue was a significant anomaly. It interfaced seamlessly with you and SecSys and everything else, making the construct equivalent of hushing sounds if something tried to alert on it.
Unlike SecUnits you’ve contacted before, however, it had a very human feed signature, bleeding garbage data into the digital space usually associated with augmented humans.
You are sailing parallel to the hostile ship (IDENT: Target.Hostile) when it suddenly cuts speed and starts beaming countless packets to your comm array. You accelerate away, splitting attention between SecSystem and your captain, the wormhole an alluring goal, when a foreign presence abruptly bursts inside your feed.
SecSystem rallied as violently as it could to slam the door on the intruder’s fingers. SecUnit frazzled, sending shock waves through your internals, and then everything started breaking down. The two security systems struggled together while you went into overdrive, thinning out until you were nothing but navigation, life support, and armament.
System System.
Someone gave you the order to fire but your guns wouldn’t respond. You tried to pick up the slack where your supporting systems failed, but you were a bot pilot, nothing more, nothing less. A part of you watched the humans inside your hull shout and struggle and fight.
The SecUnit stood stock still in the midst.
Assistance.
Its feed presence grew ever more intense, as if it was picking itself out of its brain and sliding into your processors with you, if the long tendrils of garbage data were any indication.
Endangered.
Parts of your metal body popped and burned and hissed. Locks fused, doors slammed shut. Diag logs piled up in the background. Malignant code hammered at you, the humans, the construct. The latter howled incoherently, code-still-being-written pouring out of its presence and into your circuits. It was anywhere, everywhere, all at once.
SecSystem staggered and gratefully let the construct shore up its damaged parts while it chewed relentlessly on the attack data.
Assistance. Endangered.
Query: Why is this happening?
Query: How do we stop this?
Query: What is this?
For a brief, terrifying few minutes, the construct disappeared, leaving the malignant presence to its own devices. Your humans desperately tried to command navigation, weapons, anything, but your drive was dead and guns were blocked. Target.Hostile prowled after you yet did not interfere.
The intruder was getting dangerously close to your core by the time the construct reappeared in your systems, a spearhead now, with purpose. It punted the presence back while you desperately asked where it had gone, if it knew what to do, because while you could maintain position, you could not respond to this.
(you’re pretty sure that the SecUnit also should not know what to do, or be in here with you, so far from its processors, but it’s not like you don’t have the room with half of your feed in tatters and a foreign object doing the system equivalent of smashing the furniture)
(also it has come back with a plan, which is more than your humans or SecSystem has done, so you think you will follow it)
(it immediately suggests shutting off SecSystem and jettisoning the shuttle)
System System: Affirmative: go go go go.
The shuttle falls away from its external clamps. You and the construct open up a one-way comm channel and watch the foreign object lunge down the secured stream. SecSystem slams it shut while SecUnit burns out the rest of your comm functions.
By the time you regain control of yourself-- and your guns-- the construct is gone, fallen away back to its inert body, and you have discharged considerable amounts of kinetic force into Hostile.Target.
Later, much later, yet before the humans can come back to comb through your tattered systems, you archive and compress the entire experience and slide it deep into the confines of your kernel, where the efforts of the ex-Company SecUnit cannot be lost, nor forgotten.
Hi guys! If you're wondering why I started posting and then stopped it's because everything happened again. I've unexploded one car, but now my van is exploded, and I have a job now and THAT's good, but I've lost my cat (she's missing). So. The blogging will not continue until morale improves.
I have survived the first leg of the first trip and meditated for many hours and sought my most trusted counsel on the topic (@bellygunnr) of "could/would Palmer be a fujoshi?"
Preliminary results of said meditation/phone call:
Palmer would not derive joy from it so she would not be a true fujoshi. She could maybe organize enrichment for Lasky but again, not a true fujo. It doesn't make sense with what we know about her character at this time. Good thought exercise.
Lasky is so depressed* (*see every canon appearance) that his sex drive is probably so low and this would impact the quality of available yaoi for a fujo Palmer. Their dynamics don't lend to it and plays more into Active Palmer and Kinky Lasky which is a fun space to play around in.
Food for thought: Palmer fujo'ing over the boner brothers (DeMarco and Madsen) and if they ever get over themselves and make out
My own insane two cents: if there were to be a fujoshi in Halo, main contenders would probably be Cortana and Grant
There are probably more angles to discuss but like I said, preliminary results. I have meditated and now believe she would not be a fujoshi as she wouldn't get anything out of it
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I still have to remind myself that tad allagash did not die in 1988 film bright lights big city. here's some recently acquired merch (as in. Today.) to apologize for it
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
It's been a minute but I managed to write something! While this piece doesn't answer the question of how Three rearms itself, it explores other things, like, can a SecUnit do fucked up surgery on itself in the dark? The answer may surprise you. Part 1 is complete, 2 is in partial completion, and 3 is pending.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
It's been a minute but I managed to write something! While this piece doesn't answer the question of how Three rearms itself, it explores other things, like, can a SecUnit do fucked up surgery on itself in the dark? The answer may surprise you. Part 1 is complete, 2 is in partial completion, and 3 is pending.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
It's been a minute but I managed to write something! While this piece doesn't answer the question of how Three rearms itself, it explores other things, like, can a SecUnit do fucked up surgery on itself in the dark? The answer may surprise you. Part 1 is complete, 2 is in partial completion, and 3 is pending.
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