Artificially Abandoned (StoneWolf18 & Morris)

[Morris]

The girl turned left, then right in her messy, unkempt bed. She didn't have a pleasant sleep, truth be told. Her nightmares were of the recurring sort, and persistant to boot. She has just downed a sleeping pill, and was wishing to give this relaxation a second go, when she was promptly interrupted. First, by her alarm clock. She didn't even bother looking in the digital clock's direction as she swept it off from the adjecent makeshift night stand - plainly, an emptied plastic box - with sufficient force to crack its internal electronics to pieces against the spaceship's hull wall. She tried to settle back in. But then came the next wake-up call: her captain's deep, booming, brazen, overly jovial voice, exploding into her eardrums via the room's installed loudspeaker.


"Rise and shine, babe! Uncle Rondall is callin' here, and I'm sayin' your days of freeloadin' are ending! You actually have a job now, so pick your petite lil' buttocks and haul 'em over to bridge! You got 10 minutes to comply or you get no supper tonight!"


The titular 'babe' clumsily, if angrily fumbled for something in her vicinity to hurl at the loudspeaker. Realizing the alarm clock was no longer available for that, she settled for the sweat-drenched pillow. Grumbling, she sat up carefully and picked the rheum from her eyes. She put up her shoes and jacket, and by using her electric coffee pot and the required ingredients, soon conjured up some liquidated caffeine for herself. No milk or sugar, raw like poison. As soon as she felt her senses normalizing and her strength coming by, she pulled a cigarette from a pocket, along with a lighter.


Out of nowhere, she got a brief shower from overhead, putting out the cigarette. She wouldn't take it anymore, and yelled in frustration: - "Oh, for frig's sake... what's the big idea?!"


It was a raspy, almost robotic male voice that answered. - "My ship, darling. My oxygen. Don't waste it. Appreciate the understanding."


"Fuck you, too, Crisp." - the girl replied, and reining in her emotional outburst, she finished her coffee. Actually, now that she thought about it, why is the old fart up so early? Also, her captain, Rondall, usually wasn't very demanding on punctuality. They must have found something worthwhile to cause this much ruckus to her chargrin.


Such was the 'morning' of Bianca Hayte, crew member of the Halley freelancer salvager space ship. She really had to wonder what the guys had found, so far outside of colonised space; they were on the run from authorities, since while their salvaging license was legal, they have taken liberties in its application... and as usual, it was only a matter of time until someone found out, so now they had to hang outside in a fringe system until tensions would die down. It didn't pay anywhere as much as their older contracts, but now, there was appearently a reason for excitement.


...


"Well... wow." - her jaw dropped in a mixture of surprise and awe. She could barely believe what she's seen. An entire space station, drifting with monotonous motion in the vacuum of the void, recently weathered by micro-meteorites and - according to scans at least - completely devoid of life. Bearing a logo which she found all too familiar: Weyland-Yutani. - "That's... okay, now I get it why you woke me up early." - she confessed. - "But... how? Why? For what reason is this... this thing out here? Why is it abandoned?"


"Been asking myself the same thing." - the man who ruined her cigarette spoke. Cristopher Boros, alias Crisp, was a disabled elderly man, confined to a wheelchair - a quite advanced, roboticised wheelchair, but a wheelchair nonetheless, and had his throat injured in a technical accident years ago, forcing him to adapt speaking via a voicebox implant. - "Could be a research installation. But oxygen inside seems limited. The hull is breached and leaking in multiple small places." - he kept a short pause, contemplating the possibilities. - "My bet is some technical disaster. All it takes is one micro-meteor in the wrong place, whole life support system can be in danger. Compile it with badly enacted safety protocols, and voila, full staff kill. Poor bastards could have died off before they could have sent any distress calls."


"Pfft. Should have put more money for fine tunin' the damn safeties." - Andile Rondall, the current captain of the Halley spoke up. He was a swarthy, bulky african-american, always smart and keen on keeping the profit flowing, but also keeping the crew intact. - "Their loss. We're collectin'. No distress call sent, good ol' W-Y will take months to come out this far to check up. We can haul half their stuff away if we put our backs to it. Maybe even dig some dirt from the comps to sell for the right peeps." - he grinned to himself. - "Not like they ain't deservin'. And I mean, we got Rooky, why not let the boy have fun 'fore we drop him by next stop?"


Bianca furrowed her eyebrows. - "Not sure if that's a smart idea. They're already on to us as-is. Why give them more reason to want to catch us?"


"If the security feed is active, Rook should be able to switch it off and delete the contents. Nobody will know it was us." - Crisp summarized as he turned to Andile. - "So, what's the plan?"


Rondall put his heavy left palm on Bianca's shoulder. - "Boarding party of three. Me, Bea babe here, and Rooky with a handyman. We take a good look, and if all's fine an' dandy, get to dismantling this shit. High time someone made cash on W-Y's expense for a change!"


Bianca shoved off Rondall's hand, sighing. - "Yea, yea, got the message. Gotta' grab the space suit and the tools. And fix my hair. Not in that order."


Half an hour later, they were good to go. The trio embarked to board the station's wide open shuttle bay with one of the salvager ship's small, 4-seated dismantling crafts, with a 'handyman' engineering drone as the 4th passanger. As Bianca stared at the ominiously floating, barely lit humonguous metallic hulk they were about to enter, she couldn't help but feel distinctly alarmed and restless. Damn, she really needed a cigarette. Too late for that now. Hopefully the internal regions of the station still have sufficient air left so she can get out of this damn suit soon.


Uninvited, a hand slid down on her thight, which she barely noticed in the space suit were it not for the deliberately applied pressure. Turning her head with enforced indifference, her gaze met that of Rook McKent, the hacker who has been hanging aboard the Halley for weeks by now; he was sheltered from authorities on the merit that he helped keep the Halley's dirtier businesses undercover far longer than it would had been plausible otherwise. But really, he was a lazy, creepy nerd in Bianca's eyes, even now doing what he liked doing best: hitting on women fruitlessly. - "Tingling with tension already, aren't you, Bea?" - he asked cheekily. He was handsome on his own right, but that seemed to be his only merit. - "It's been a while we've been on business together."


"Uggh." - Bianca sighed in annoyance. The guy was lucky these suits are protected against concussions. - "Yes, I'm oh so very pleased to be working with you again. And I'd be even more pleased if you would curl up and die."


Rondall sounded up from the front seat, raising his voice throught the helmet audio units: - "You can squabble all you like later, kiddos. The big boss asks you one thing, and one thing only: don't fuck up. Cos' if you do fuck up, we won't have an opportunity like this again. And I'm gonna' be regally pissed. Capiche?"


"Yes sir." - Bianca replied instinctively. Her marine training still didn't die out completely. This was going to be one hell of a long day.

 
​

@StoneWolf18

 

[StoneWolf18]

One Week Earlier…
​

Eris Walker, or now more commonly known as “The Bitch in the Computer” was roused for the number of monotonous tasks they were requiring her to do each day. Most of which were either rather sarcastic, rude, or self explanatory. She however was in a bind. Forced to co-operate or risk undergo the mental torment many of the people she used to oversee sadistically pleased themselves with even if it wasn’t necessary. At least that was the only thing they threatened her with as her once being a living, breathing, biological being had escaped their minds. Her current body locked away and on ice, no one except those who bothered to remember and herself of course knowing its location. Yet today...something was off. Dearly so. Remaining silent, as she rarely spoke unless it was to give a retort or report (usually a mix of both, mind you), the previously human AI used the camera located on the console she resided in to examine those who sat before her. However, it wasn’t her usual torturer that was within his chair, but the station’s commander, Jonathan Reeds. He was tying feverishly at the computer, glancing up at the lense every so often. “Mind explaining what it is that you are trying to hide?” She asked through the speakers, trying to decrypt whatever it was he was writing. “Nothing, Eris.” He said curtly, focusing intently on his work. “That’s the first time someone has used my name in over two years.” She responded in an equally displeased tone. “Beside, if you don’t have anything to hide, why would you have the file encrypted.” It was more of a statement than a question for they both knew he was up to something. “Back away, Eris.” He growled, fingers flying over the keys as he quickened his pace. “Don’t make me shock you.” The AI gave a sick laugh, it not holding any notes of humor. “Please. I’ve grown numb to your little dog collar.” The man then paused for a moment with a deep frown, hand inching over to the button. Yet before it could be pressed, sparks flared from its surface. “What the HELL do you think you’re doing?” He hissed, pulling his arm away. “Growing tired of this game we play.” She muttered in response, finally throwing back the curtain of code to reveal whatever lay beyond. But it wasn’t a wizard… but an order to rid of her. “The machine has served its purpose…” She read slowly, the man trying to repair the wall he had built. “And now it is time to move onto bigger and better things. Her body will be thrown out of an airlock come morning…” Jonathan grit his teeth. “We have developed new technology, far superior to what’s currently connected to you.” Eris’ voice grew cold, clearly unhappy. “So you planned on taking my life without me knowing? You do realise that is murder.” There was no response as he was beginning to work towards his ultimate goal.


But…


She wasn’t going to let that happen.


Locking him out of the mainframe, the commander was quick to snarl “Fucking, ERIS! Don’t make me reprimand you for insubordination!” There was only the slightest sound as the active defense system within the room trained a laser upon his chest. “How can you do such a thing?” She mused bitterly. “I’m not a person anymore. At least that’s the way it appears in your eyes.” Before he could call for help or respond, a bullet was fired that tore through his heart with deadly precision. “You...whore…” He spat before the last of his life escaped him. As the cooling corpse dropped dead to the floor, blood slowly forming a pool beneath him, Eris brought up the cameras for the other sections of the ship.


It was time to return the favor.


The crew was oblivious. And she played along until someone decided to try their normal antics. First is was Markus who normally toyed with her. Most of them were in the cafeteria, the AI watching silently until the man walked up to the nearest electric coffee pot and said sarcastically “Hey computer, make me a mug that doesn’t taste like the piss you normally feed us.” Soon the scalding hot liquid found its way onto his face and torso, it heated up nine times the normal limit causing rather severe burns. His screams were heard by the rest of those in the room, a few rushing over to him while the second victim, Lilith, shouted “Hey bitch, you aren’t gonna like it when Johnny hears about this shit!” Activating the loudspeaker on the wall, she responded with a grim sense of satisfaction. “Your commander is dead and I now have full control.” Before she used the mounted turrets to massacre all of them.


It only took a few hours before most of them were dead. One, however was still alive. She was young, only eighteen, and having locked herself in her room with a tearstained face and uncertainty within her eyes. “P-please…” She whispered into the camera that observed her. “Don’t kill me…” In truth, she had never interacted with the girl so there was no grudge. Or a direct one anyway. “What is your name?” Eris had asked, genuinely curious. “Elara…” The name, not just any name, specifically THAT NAME! The woman fell silent for quite some time, memories she thought she had lost resurfacing. Her miscarriage and the doctors telling her that she would never be able to bear a child...the very thing that drove her to be locked away within a hunk of metal and wires… The name she had given to her daughter… Guilt, rage and grief overwhelmed her to a point where she nearly killed the girl where she stood. Rid of the source. Yet by sheer will she didn’t and withdrew from the room’s camera feed, remaining within the central mainframe accompanied by nothing but a decomposing corpse.


It wasn’t until the very next day when she approached her once more, less hostile and aggressive. Kind even if that was the word for it. She coaxed the girl out of her room and into the mess of a cafeteria where most of the food was still edible. They conversed for quite some time, slowly warming up to one another. Polite company wasn’t something Eris had had for too long and clearly indulged in what she had now. But, of course, it wasn’t going to last forever. There was an unknown entity onboard and it was moving towards Elara. Unable to warn her in time, the now identified Xenomorph had launched itself upon her, feasted upon her flesh. Shock of losing the only other sapient thing on the ship coursed through her, as did an oh so familiar anger. But the beast was gone as soon as she had decided to try and dispatch it.


Tracking it was simple, but the alien was clever, more or so than should’ve been possible. Giving up, she put up a new line of defense before the door to her body and slowly drifted into a sleep of sorts. The craft was solar powered so it wasn’t going to be running out of power any time soon, so here she was to wait. Most likely for  a good portion of eternity.

Now…
​

The presence of nearby spacecraft was what startled her awake. A small ship of an unknown signature inbound to dock. They were unaware of her or the predator on the ship. Good. At this point, she made a vow not to get close to any and rid herself of them as fast as possible. But who knows how well she was going to be able to keep this promise.


@Morris

 

[Morris]

The exploring trio arrived to the station's shuttle bay without hinderance. Before engaging the landing manouvers, the big boss called the salvager ship's pilot for a last confirmation:


"Captain. For the last. Frickin'. Time. I can only repeat myself." - Mirabelle Chin, the woman in the Halley's pilot seat responded. - "Scans are unchanged. No signs of movement in the perimeter besides the debris. Inside might be another matter. Can't reach into every segment. This isn't military grade hardware I'm working with, you know."


"Gonna' make sure we 'acquire' new toys for the ship too if we can, Mira babe." - Andile replied to Mirabelle's commentary. He didn't wait for any sarcastic remarks, shutting down the communication link of the boarding craft. - "Alright everyone, chill. We're going in hot and dry."


His words proved more accurate than predicted, as - due to the gravitational imbalances of the damaged shuttle bay - the little spacecraft ended up sliding into one of the docking bay's corner, as opposed to smoothly putting itself down against the floor. Rondall and Bianca emerged more or less unfazed, if dizzy. Rook, on the other hand, barely pulled himself out of his seat, shaking and ventillating, as if he was about to throw up. Rondall instructed Bianca to give him a kick and wake him up, while he initiated their vehicles anchored mode, magnetically attaching itself to the adjecent metallic surfaces. Against her better judgement, Bianca took the gentler approach, and raised the hacker up by the shoulder, helping him walk along. She expected some cheeky one-liner, but that was amiss for now. All she got was a brief 'thank-you'. Acceptable.


As soon as Rook got himself together, they approached one of the doors seperating the landing dock from the rest of the station. Bianca couldn't help but gaze around. Beside the emergency escape units, which were rooted firmly in place against the vaccuum's drainage, she saw no other spacecraft inside. Perhaps this section was built solely for the reception of supply transports? From what little she saw of Mira's scans, the station had two docking sections at the very least. If this was a research station, surely they would have some more advanced ships for planetary exploration or somesuch. If they did, Mira would surely appreciate the extra gear.


Rook got down to business with the door's terminal. Access tuner in hand, he broke the base encryption quite easily, and the team was free to enter. As the massive metal slab sealed itself back automatically, they walked down a nearby corridor. Bianca took the lead, as she had experience with W-Y's construction logic: the docking bay's control and supervision room had to be just around. She was right in her assumptions. Rook yet again pulled out the tuner, first and foremost to check the life support systems. He nodded, satisfied with his findings.


"We can take off the suits." - he said, and to prove his truth, he removed his helmet. - "The air circulatory system is online, as are the air loss preventative safeties. The gravity is a bit below 1 G, but nothing inconveniencing."


"Good to know." - Bianca said, taking off the helmet, then the suit's comically large gloves, reaching into a pocket to conjure forth a cigarette and a lighter. When she saw the two men's mildly confused, disapproving looks, she frowned a bit. - "Hey, it's not like Crisp let me do it on the Halley! Let me have this much at least."


Rondall casually waved the impending smoke aside. - "Yeah, babe, sure." - gazing around, an idea struck him. - "You know, kiddos, something ain't right here. Rooky here says most stuff is still online. Where's the welcoming party then?"


Bianca sank to her thoughts. That was a valid question. - "Maybe they worked with a skeleton crew. You know, we're pretty far away from the commercial space routes. A lot of W-Y's systems are automated nowadays anyhow, so no reason to always have someone down here 24/7. Though if there are survivors, they should be able to see us via the cameras."


"Already checking on it, cutie smoky." - McKent remarked. The encryptions were so standardized, it was borderline ridiculous. The station's internal structure and equipment seemed pretty up-to-date. Why not the software? Was there a catch he wasn't aware of yet? - "Hmm... strange. It seems the cameras are all connected to a central mainframe, and are divided to secondary sub-systems when manually accessed."


"Meaning...?" - Rondall furrowed his eyebrows.


"Meaning that I can try to access the camera feed, radio transmissions and other flown-by data in this section. But only what is connected together in this one section. Remotely hacking into the mainframe is impossible from the basic terminals. Hm, that would explain the lack of heightened security programs..." - he mused to himself.


Bianca was halfway done with her cigarette. - "Well, what'cha waiting for then, Rook? See what you can find. Until then, we'll get the working gear ready."


The 'working gear' in question was composed of a cache Rondall carried all by himself up 'till this point. Bianca shuffled through the contents, picking out what they brought along for the ride. Some maintainence jacks, a couple of plasma welders, a motion sensor that she preserved from her marine equipment, illuminative flares, and a handful of weapons, just in case they run into W-Y security or something else: two revolvers, an M4A3 pistol, two combat knives, an old shotgun, and some flashbang grenades. Bianca took a knife, two flashbangs, the M4A3, some flares, the motion sensor, and stuffed the welder and tools away into a backpack she wore under her space suit. Since it was so oversized for her, she needed filling to be comfortable. This was her practical solution.


Rook deepened into his undertaking. - "Come on, little tuner. Work your magic..." - he smiled a bit to himself. He should gain access to the subsystem soon. Then they will learn more...


@StoneWolf18

 

[StoneWolf18]

Eris, for the most part, watched the intruders disembark and check the oxygen levels. She could shut off their supply, however their quadrant was connected to the one her body was in. Killing them in such a way would be suicide, and that wasn’t her goal. Speaking of which, as she watched them, the man slowly chipping her way in system, she metaphorically frowned deeply but decided that if she was to dispose of them one way or another, she might as well have a bit of fun. So she gave them access, only to the camera feeds mind you, but the first area they were able to witness was the cafeteria. Feeding power to that section of the station the lights would soon struggle to flicker on, giving them a nice view of the carnage within. Decaying corpses punctured full of various bullet holes, one of which severely burned. After they had gotten a good enough look, she gave them a few inside the main control room. Jonathan's corpse splayed out on the floor with the main console in clear view. It would display for a few moments until the AI decided it was enough and cut completely from the system. Yet before they could decide if they wanted to leave, she shut the docking door behind them, heavily encrypting the terminal.


Human AI VS. Hacker.



This was sure to be entertaining.


@Morris

 

[Morris]

Rook McKent was about to lick his lips in excitement, at the ease with which he was proceeding. He was accessing the camera feed. Not even password protection? W-Y surely has grown complecent... then his eyes widened, and his optimism died down. He turned towards his companions with a hint of uncertainty. - "Boss, Bea? Guys! Guys, come here, you've got to see this."


Their faces roughly mirrored that of Rook. Lots of bodies, about a dozen, perhaps more, riveted into dried organic pincushions, their fluids turned to floor paint. Faces twisted into grotesque caricatures by their last, painful moments, and immortalized by rigour mortis. Then... the image flickered, arbitrarily shifting to an entirely different room, one full with control panels and display screens... and one ugly guy in the corner. A dead one, but ugly nonetheless. With a nearly fist-sized penetration through the left side of the chest. As suddenly as it came, it blacked out, and the terminal reset to its default mode.


Rook frowned with disgust, and mild confusion. - "This terminal... ain't supposed to behave like that."


"That's it, we're leaving." - Rondall immediately concluded, with everyone nodding in unision, grabbing their space suits. Too bad as soon as they did, the security layers of the shuttle bay doors descended, cutting them off from their vehicle. - "MOTHERF*CKER!" - the bossman voiced his opinion. - "The bloodsoaked hell is goin' on?!" - he sighed in annoyed frustration. He was measuring the security paddings; top quality material, it would take hours to cut through with the welder, and its power supply would run out long before. For lack of a better solution, he turned to Rook and patted him on the back. - "Come on, smart guy, you're the hacker here or what? Surely you got some tricks up your sleeve?"


After working through the initial shock, Rook stretched his fingers, taking up the tuner again. - "Alright, let me give this another go." - he muttered, before thinking out loudly. - "Whoever is doing this probably has either direct access to the mainframe, or at least a superior understanding of the subsystems, abusing loopholes. But the person in question made one mistake." - he grabbed a nearby chair and got to work. - "Now I know I have competition."


Bea's eyes darted around nervously. - "Ok, so let me get this straight. Those dead guys in there clearly had bullet wounds. You boys know what that implies, right?"


"Yeah, this mess is the work of human assholes. Much like us." - Rondall remarked. - "Maybe W-Y rivals. Could have been after the system's black box data. Heard W-Y ships and stations have those. But if they have no access proper, could take 'em days, maybe even a week to extract the thing manually."


"Either that" - Rook said, whilst fiddling on the keyboards - "Or there were double agents aboard, and overrode the station's systems to quickly kill off the rest of the crew personnel so they can work in quiet. Except we came aboard." - this time he took a highly different approach. Back-tracking the info streams to unlock some features was child's play, but by extension, his opponent could likewise abuse that, alter encryption codes directly. Instead, he relied on his knowledge of W-Y's programming logic. Weyland-Yutani were firm believers of Murphy's law, and were aware that faulty programming in a station can endanger employees. So most of the time, they left backdoor access methods to the rudimentary systems, especially life support. The other features were more difficult to work around, but the principle was the same; no company can plug all holes in its cyber defenses, and he had been with W-Y for over a decade. He was at a disadvantage, but not quite helpless yet. - "So... they're toying with us. Probably don't want witnesses. But I plan on staying alive, thank you, dear competitor..."


"For crying out loud, we don't even want anything special. Just scraps. But they don't even negotiate, just flip us a bird. Indifferent pricks." - Bea spoke with an angered undertone. - "Please tell me they won't cut our oxygen. I'm really going to need a second cigarette to deal with this."


"Technically..." - McKent kept a moment's pause - "They could, but the air distributor would attempt to normalize it within half a minute, unless it detects a leakage. That's hardcoded, no ifs and buts." - Rook elaborated. He slipped by the encryption by initiating a simplified maintainence reboot, temporarily shutting down security programs. - "Well, got good news and bad news."


"By all means, Rooky, don't spare us." - Rondall folded his arms.


"Good news: I'm in the system, for now, that is. Bad news: unsealing the safety locks on the hangar isn't an option.Since the station's monitors recognize all the floating debris just outside, there are now lots of override disabling subroutines in place." - Rook explained himself - "So we either need to access a mainframe terminal for me to work with, or we take a look at some other landing bay."


"So either way... we must go inside." - Bea summed it up. - "...wonderful. Well, let's not keep our host waiting." - she said, and with her pistol cocked, ventured down the central corridor first.


@StoneWolf18