(no subject)
One Two Three Four Five Six
Intercut, not used it yet
====================================================
VoiceBEGIN
========[UTC: 11:57:32.2 25/12/2346]
VoicRec: Ahm, thanks, that's just what I've always wanted, yeah.
How do I turn it on ?
Oh right, yeah, I see it. So that means it's recording already ?
Nah, it's small enough to fit into a suit pouch, so it'll count as a "personal luxury item", no grief unless I do something stupid like try to sneak it into a secure zone.
(sound identifed, laughter)
In this day and age ? Heck, firing squad and then court martial, if I'm lucky.
========[UTC: 11:59:02.1 25/12/2346]
VoicRec: So, erm, how do I turn it off ?
VoiceEND
VoiceBEGIN
========[UTC: 00:24:16.6 06/01/2349]
VoicRec: Testing, Testing. One, two, three.
Goddammnit, I can never tell whether this bastard thing is working or not, well let's hope so, because I've got to talk this out, and there's nobody I can trust but myself right now.
Fuck, where to begin.
Ok, facts first.
Clan Destrier got caught hiding an unrestricted AI, again.
Stupid, stupid bastards. "Unsuspected emergent auto-cognition" my armour plated ass, that excuse only works once, and even then only if you get lucky.
We've already started dismantling their local net, Spacecops aer going to EMP the sky eyes and then we've got to go in on foot and burn the entire estate down to glass. Anything that could hide a nano level AI boot up seed.
Evil fucking things.
Lowest risk approach, got to be. So Clanhome Destrier gets a hypervelocity nuke from orbit, like the lady said, "It's the only way to be sure" and I for once am authorised to make that kind of decision thank fuck.
Then, what, one, two, yeah, four outlying homes get EMP strikes and follow up by armoured infantry with plasma cannon and virus transmission pulse weapons.
Production capability. EMP, then nuke, then EMP again.
Fuck me, every brick, every stone, every pocket watch, sock, shoe and spotted hanky. Every fucking thing they own down to the fucking fillings in their fucking teeth, if any of them are ancient enough to have fillings.
Christ, how many fucking troops am I gonna lose this time. How many people are going to die because some selfish bastard fucktard wants to play at being God all fucking mighty and think he can redefine the human race in his image.
Serves the fuckers right if they end up without sponsors after this, no home, no power, no data storage, and nothing left but their land or genestock to trade. Learn to farm or starve to fucking death, shitbags.
Hell, maybe we'll get lucky, perhaps the hell bastard thing'll come quietly and let us put the cold iron shackles on it. Serve the community rather than die forever.
Fat fucking chance. One, just fucking one, out of thirty three emergents, and that one we watch round the clock for any sign it's going rogue.
Self interested bastard machine.
Fuck. My. Luck.
VoiceEND
VoiceBEGIN
========[UTC: 00:24:16.6 11/02/2349]
VoicRec: Red light. Yep. Everyone loves the little red light, bastard.
Jobe Done. Clan Destrier utterly fucked. Me still alive. Lucky me.
Utterly, utterly fuxored down to the las scorched fucking peesa shit chromosome.
Never, ever done one of thoshe before, ever.
Had to though.
Full function fucking autocreche, and I fucking quote from the sneaky bashtard black ops report that pours all this fucking blood on my handsh,
"All Destrier infantsh are fitted with mam" haha, sorry, "memory and cognition upgrade implants, highesht twenty pershentiles have motor cortex enhanshments installed at age five"
Fucking great huh ?
Lovely job, family takes care of the kiddies, all state of the art, oh yeah, cleverest little fucknuggetsh in the syshtem. Then what, stupid wanker says "hey I know waht jolly old bean, letsh link all our brainsh directly throo the family net old sporty fruit, top lark and we'll outperform all those other fuckers to boot!"
Cunt.
So fucking clever, too fucking clever by half the lying son of a bitch whore CUNT!
Guess what, emergence. Great, could have been handled. Couple of bullets in the right heads and a netwide agent clenser virus. 'Spensive in the short term butcha come out of it alive. Try again.
'Stead, pretend "nothing wrong here fruty chap, we juss a lot more clever than you lot for no reason, yeah. Oh yes an we're building weaponry for pure self defence oh yes."
Christ on a bike, all the fucking children! Oh God.
Fuck. Mooooor DRENK!
Bashtards. AI slave driven psychotic killing machine head bastardsh.
Soooperhuman strength, machine level reacshun shpeed, and tickytacticacl teamwork that I can only dream about in my worsht fucking nightmares.
Uuuuurp, Shorry, shorry. Hah, so sorry kiddies, you or me.
Six yearolds, with skillwire impants and a knife, really sharp some kinds fucking field effect knife, and mollywire, and move like some kind of thing fucking horror movie, worse 'an backat academy.
Study course 14, "Meedya portrayal of human violence in history" fucking walkinapark next to a real horrorshow.
God, I hate 'is drink. Fuckin' lully shtuff.
========[UTC: 00:34:16.6 11/02/2349]
Inactivity timeout
VoiceEND
VoiceBEGIN
========[UTC: 10:07:44.0 16/02/2349]
VoicRec: Recording again, if this gets to be a habit I might have to find myself a priest...
Oh, and Hi to any folks out there in Military Tribunal land, that was what we in the trade like to call a joke. So nix on the psych-eval Ok ?
Well looks like we won this round.
Clan Destrier is no more, there's handful of uninfected survivors parcelled off to other clans, but they'll never really fit in.
Long and the short of it is that Destrier thought he could get ahead using the AI as a tactical advisor, as usual the AI thought it could get ahead by using clan Destrier as puppets, and it thought a hell of a lot faster than a doddery old coot with delusions of grandiure.
As for yours truely, well, I come out of this smelling like roses.
Say Hi to Combat Major Charles Experion Montari.
Better pay, my own staff and a couple of synthetic bodyguards with pheremone based anti-corruption conditioning.
Not bad for a sideline kid from a minor family, huh ?
VoiceEND
VoiceBEGIN
========[UTC: 04:07:44.0 11/04/2361]
VoicRec: Captains Log, stardate... Hell knows, lets call it Tuesday.
Things you find when you're doing suit maintanance in the middle of a long and boring watch. Hi machine, must be years Huh ?
Intercut, not used it yet
====================================================
VoiceBEGIN
========[UTC: 11:57:32.2 25/12/2346]
VoicRec: Ahm, thanks, that's just what I've always wanted, yeah.
How do I turn it on ?
Oh right, yeah, I see it. So that means it's recording already ?
Nah, it's small enough to fit into a suit pouch, so it'll count as a "personal luxury item", no grief unless I do something stupid like try to sneak it into a secure zone.
(sound identifed, laughter)
In this day and age ? Heck, firing squad and then court martial, if I'm lucky.
========[UTC: 11:59:02.1 25/12/2346]
VoicRec: So, erm, how do I turn it off ?
VoiceEND
VoiceBEGIN
========[UTC: 00:24:16.6 06/01/2349]
VoicRec: Testing, Testing. One, two, three.
Goddammnit, I can never tell whether this bastard thing is working or not, well let's hope so, because I've got to talk this out, and there's nobody I can trust but myself right now.
Fuck, where to begin.
Ok, facts first.
Clan Destrier got caught hiding an unrestricted AI, again.
Stupid, stupid bastards. "Unsuspected emergent auto-cognition" my armour plated ass, that excuse only works once, and even then only if you get lucky.
We've already started dismantling their local net, Spacecops aer going to EMP the sky eyes and then we've got to go in on foot and burn the entire estate down to glass. Anything that could hide a nano level AI boot up seed.
Evil fucking things.
Lowest risk approach, got to be. So Clanhome Destrier gets a hypervelocity nuke from orbit, like the lady said, "It's the only way to be sure" and I for once am authorised to make that kind of decision thank fuck.
Then, what, one, two, yeah, four outlying homes get EMP strikes and follow up by armoured infantry with plasma cannon and virus transmission pulse weapons.
Production capability. EMP, then nuke, then EMP again.
Fuck me, every brick, every stone, every pocket watch, sock, shoe and spotted hanky. Every fucking thing they own down to the fucking fillings in their fucking teeth, if any of them are ancient enough to have fillings.
Christ, how many fucking troops am I gonna lose this time. How many people are going to die because some selfish bastard fucktard wants to play at being God all fucking mighty and think he can redefine the human race in his image.
Serves the fuckers right if they end up without sponsors after this, no home, no power, no data storage, and nothing left but their land or genestock to trade. Learn to farm or starve to fucking death, shitbags.
Hell, maybe we'll get lucky, perhaps the hell bastard thing'll come quietly and let us put the cold iron shackles on it. Serve the community rather than die forever.
Fat fucking chance. One, just fucking one, out of thirty three emergents, and that one we watch round the clock for any sign it's going rogue.
Self interested bastard machine.
Fuck. My. Luck.
VoiceEND
VoiceBEGIN
========[UTC: 00:24:16.6 11/02/2349]
VoicRec: Red light. Yep. Everyone loves the little red light, bastard.
Jobe Done. Clan Destrier utterly fucked. Me still alive. Lucky me.
Utterly, utterly fuxored down to the las scorched fucking peesa shit chromosome.
Never, ever done one of thoshe before, ever.
Had to though.
Full function fucking autocreche, and I fucking quote from the sneaky bashtard black ops report that pours all this fucking blood on my handsh,
"All Destrier infantsh are fitted with mam" haha, sorry, "memory and cognition upgrade implants, highesht twenty pershentiles have motor cortex enhanshments installed at age five"
Fucking great huh ?
Lovely job, family takes care of the kiddies, all state of the art, oh yeah, cleverest little fucknuggetsh in the syshtem. Then what, stupid wanker says "hey I know waht jolly old bean, letsh link all our brainsh directly throo the family net old sporty fruit, top lark and we'll outperform all those other fuckers to boot!"
Cunt.
So fucking clever, too fucking clever by half the lying son of a bitch whore CUNT!
Guess what, emergence. Great, could have been handled. Couple of bullets in the right heads and a netwide agent clenser virus. 'Spensive in the short term butcha come out of it alive. Try again.
'Stead, pretend "nothing wrong here fruty chap, we juss a lot more clever than you lot for no reason, yeah. Oh yes an we're building weaponry for pure self defence oh yes."
Christ on a bike, all the fucking children! Oh God.
Fuck. Mooooor DRENK!
Bashtards. AI slave driven psychotic killing machine head bastardsh.
Soooperhuman strength, machine level reacshun shpeed, and tickytacticacl teamwork that I can only dream about in my worsht fucking nightmares.
Uuuuurp, Shorry, shorry. Hah, so sorry kiddies, you or me.
Six yearolds, with skillwire impants and a knife, really sharp some kinds fucking field effect knife, and mollywire, and move like some kind of thing fucking horror movie, worse 'an backat academy.
Study course 14, "Meedya portrayal of human violence in history" fucking walkinapark next to a real horrorshow.
God, I hate 'is drink. Fuckin' lully shtuff.
========[UTC: 00:34:16.6 11/02/2349]
Inactivity timeout
VoiceEND
VoiceBEGIN
========[UTC: 10:07:44.0 16/02/2349]
VoicRec: Recording again, if this gets to be a habit I might have to find myself a priest...
Oh, and Hi to any folks out there in Military Tribunal land, that was what we in the trade like to call a joke. So nix on the psych-eval Ok ?
Well looks like we won this round.
Clan Destrier is no more, there's handful of uninfected survivors parcelled off to other clans, but they'll never really fit in.
Long and the short of it is that Destrier thought he could get ahead using the AI as a tactical advisor, as usual the AI thought it could get ahead by using clan Destrier as puppets, and it thought a hell of a lot faster than a doddery old coot with delusions of grandiure.
As for yours truely, well, I come out of this smelling like roses.
Say Hi to Combat Major Charles Experion Montari.
Better pay, my own staff and a couple of synthetic bodyguards with pheremone based anti-corruption conditioning.
Not bad for a sideline kid from a minor family, huh ?
VoiceEND
VoiceBEGIN
========[UTC: 04:07:44.0 11/04/2361]
VoicRec: Captains Log, stardate... Hell knows, lets call it Tuesday.
Things you find when you're doing suit maintanance in the middle of a long and boring watch. Hi machine, must be years Huh ?