Dream Journal: Militarized Training Onboard Biological Space Station Colonization... Edition
Shades of Halo: The Fall of Reach in this one, at least in the military training thing. I and a bunch of peers are recruited into the military. We train for a tiny bit on Earth, then we are to be the first humans to the new deep-space space station. It's an all new technology - both the way that we get there and the way it's being built. We get there by way of some kind of teleportation that, subjectively, is instantaneous. You must be speaking or singing while teleporting, as the method is described (I forget the exact words, but upon waking I came up with) "a visual/aural phenomenon", meaning that our essence, our life, is what is seen and heard from us. So we recruits line up, start chanting some military credo, and mid-syllable, we're suddenly in this huge pinkish chamber. Think what kids shows tell you the inside of the stomach looks like.
Also new technology: the space station is grown more than built. There will be some fabrication for more standard living spaces, but for the most part the station is expanded by growing new chambers out of gas and mucous. A bit disgusting sounding, but fortunately in my dream it was somewhat idealized - non of the stink or stick you'd expect. After maybe a month of growth, a science team came in behind us. I remember that there were a couple people in general... though I forget their parts, my ever-famous reconstruction labels an old man as the head and a younger woman as his assistant. He was the brainchild of this method of growth, I believe, and she was being groomed to take his place at the head of the project.
After a while, we teleported back to Earth and finished our training. Then we came back to the station. (Yeah, that got kinda glossed over, or forgotten as I woke up.) As I said, when you teleport the scenery changes mid-syllable, from this large grey room with yellow-and-black striped tape around to the big pink organic chamber. The undisciplined falter or even stop talking (remember that you have to speak or sing; it was theorized that a choir would have a blast teleporting). When we first came, we did indeed falter; this time though, we were trained and disciplined, and even after teleporting in, we finished the credo we were going through. At this point I was the leader of our group, so I spoke more with the science team, as opposed to our sergeant who had been training us who had done so before. The female scientist had a very Dr. Halsey moment by commenting on "when she first met me", how inexperienced and slightly lost I was, then how I was now leading everyone. Actually, come to think of it, I believe I was training a bunch of new recruits; either I was on Earth longer than I expected or they just wanted more space marines cooked up and I was the best to teach them. I remember telling them how to get to new areas - literally punching a hole in a membrane, coming through, and closing it back up before the gas in it collapsed, and how this one room absolutely refused to stay inflated when punctured even a little. "Couldn't have fixed this one while I was away, huh?"
At this point, somehow the station had been attacked, or there had been an accident; we were helping to clear out bodies, I think, but there was no emotional indicator. Just, "My pants keep falling, I need a belt, this guy isn't using his, ha." After getting that on, I went to the teleportation storage chamber. Here, you could see the medium that people were transported in - a nearly featureless ball about the size of a basketball with a ring of some sort of energy around it. The ball is visual; the ring is aural. if you disturbed either, they'd pop back out as they were originally teleported, saying whatever they were saying upon leaving. Turns out it's not objectively instantaneous; you're turned into this ball, then somehow physically transported (faster than light still, but not instantaneous), then brought back. Which brings to question why I don't ever remember a ship transporting us, maybe it was a big ol' cannon that shot us out without disturbing the information held therein.
The old head of the science team, the old man, had definitely aged, and he was sitting in the room, tending to the balls. (Wait.) The impression was that he'd gone more or less senile, but since the whole thing was his idea and he wasn't hurting anything he had free run of the station. It was also apparent that the teleportation wasn't instantaneous, for he'd aged more than I had in my two additional teleportations. But dammit, he was so proud of me.
There was some more to it, but I think I got the important parts. It was one of those dreams that while waking everything you do still feels like a part of the dream; I had this weird disconnect between what I was doing and the sounds I was making. Whoo, sleep fog.
Dammit, Firefox, why don't you know the various conjugations of the verb "teleport". *adds*
Also new technology: the space station is grown more than built. There will be some fabrication for more standard living spaces, but for the most part the station is expanded by growing new chambers out of gas and mucous. A bit disgusting sounding, but fortunately in my dream it was somewhat idealized - non of the stink or stick you'd expect. After maybe a month of growth, a science team came in behind us. I remember that there were a couple people in general... though I forget their parts, my ever-famous reconstruction labels an old man as the head and a younger woman as his assistant. He was the brainchild of this method of growth, I believe, and she was being groomed to take his place at the head of the project.
After a while, we teleported back to Earth and finished our training. Then we came back to the station. (Yeah, that got kinda glossed over, or forgotten as I woke up.) As I said, when you teleport the scenery changes mid-syllable, from this large grey room with yellow-and-black striped tape around to the big pink organic chamber. The undisciplined falter or even stop talking (remember that you have to speak or sing; it was theorized that a choir would have a blast teleporting). When we first came, we did indeed falter; this time though, we were trained and disciplined, and even after teleporting in, we finished the credo we were going through. At this point I was the leader of our group, so I spoke more with the science team, as opposed to our sergeant who had been training us who had done so before. The female scientist had a very Dr. Halsey moment by commenting on "when she first met me", how inexperienced and slightly lost I was, then how I was now leading everyone. Actually, come to think of it, I believe I was training a bunch of new recruits; either I was on Earth longer than I expected or they just wanted more space marines cooked up and I was the best to teach them. I remember telling them how to get to new areas - literally punching a hole in a membrane, coming through, and closing it back up before the gas in it collapsed, and how this one room absolutely refused to stay inflated when punctured even a little. "Couldn't have fixed this one while I was away, huh?"
At this point, somehow the station had been attacked, or there had been an accident; we were helping to clear out bodies, I think, but there was no emotional indicator. Just, "My pants keep falling, I need a belt, this guy isn't using his, ha." After getting that on, I went to the teleportation storage chamber. Here, you could see the medium that people were transported in - a nearly featureless ball about the size of a basketball with a ring of some sort of energy around it. The ball is visual; the ring is aural. if you disturbed either, they'd pop back out as they were originally teleported, saying whatever they were saying upon leaving. Turns out it's not objectively instantaneous; you're turned into this ball, then somehow physically transported (faster than light still, but not instantaneous), then brought back. Which brings to question why I don't ever remember a ship transporting us, maybe it was a big ol' cannon that shot us out without disturbing the information held therein.
The old head of the science team, the old man, had definitely aged, and he was sitting in the room, tending to the balls. (Wait.) The impression was that he'd gone more or less senile, but since the whole thing was his idea and he wasn't hurting anything he had free run of the station. It was also apparent that the teleportation wasn't instantaneous, for he'd aged more than I had in my two additional teleportations. But dammit, he was so proud of me.
There was some more to it, but I think I got the important parts. It was one of those dreams that while waking everything you do still feels like a part of the dream; I had this weird disconnect between what I was doing and the sounds I was making. Whoo, sleep fog.
Dammit, Firefox, why don't you know the various conjugations of the verb "teleport". *adds*