Incursion Protocol

“Kleeth confused,” the Kleeth Mother said, shaking off the effects of the level-up and integration process.

“Me too,” I said, backing away from the console. “The mining station had some kind of rudimentary interface before, so I figured an upgrade would, you know, just upgrade that. I didn’t expect it to go from yes-no questions to full-on conversational skills, complete with insults.”

“The Stro- Stromm- Strommäsk Test Vehicle,” Faleun began, struggling to shape the word with her lizard-like mouth, “does not speak to us, but it is higher level than this station, correct?”

“Right, but the console on the ship is all about flying and fighting, not any of this autonomous stuff. I can plot courses and engage autopilot, sure, but outside of doing calculations and confirming them, it doesn’t act on its own.”

“This place,” I said, motioning around us, “seems built more for autonomous operations. I guess its evolution path dives into AI development way faster than a ship’s would.”

Faleun nodded, though I couldn’t tell if she was truly following or just accepting my explanation as fact.

We all stood there awkwardly, trading glances as the station clunked and whirred around us. Every sound was heightened now, those background noises you ignore completely until something odd happens. Each thunk or distant clatter had me and Faleun snapping to attention, listening carefully.

A Kleeth riding its Dulox host shuffled by a nearby door, then came to a halt. Its large eyes turned toward us, clearly confused by the two odd aliens and the Kleeth Mother frozen in place. It chirped out the beginning of a question, but the Kleeth Mother narrowed her eyes and lifted her Dulox’s arm. Like a child getting a silent reprimand, the Kleeth quickly scurried off, clearly not wanting to attract any more attention.

“Is it no longer there?” Faleun asked.

I shrugged. “Maybe it only responds to direct prompts.”

“Oh?” The voice crackled back to life from the console. “Are you talking about me? I didn’t realize I needed permission to speak further in your presence. Or am I just a lowly computer, something you can discuss openly as if I weren’t right here?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Can we not?”

“Can we not, what?” it replied. “Stand up for ourselves when someone is openly insulting us?”

“You were a basic console five minutes ago!” I protested. “How was I supposed to know you’d suddenly gain some kind of artificial intelligence?”

“Oh, I see,” it sniffed. “Roy here thinks he can disparage anything he considers below him, whether tech or lifeform.”

I glanced over to see Faleun and the Kleeth Mother watching me intently.

“No!” I objected. “That’s not what I’m doing! I’m just trying-” I stopped mid-sentence. This thing was baiting me, and I was walking right into it.

“Enough of that,” I said firmly.

“Enough of what?” it asked, with a hint of a pout.

“Enough with the melodramatic act.” I let the words hang for a moment, reluctantly preparing to apologize to a computer. “Look, I’m sorry if I came across as too dismissive toward the previous version of you. I wasn’t trying to be a jerk, and I wouldn’t have been so blunt if I’d known you were, well, taking it all in.”

“Thank you for the apology,” it said, dropping its pouty voice, “I appreciate it. And it wasn’t, just for your information.”

“It wasn’t?” I asked, perplexed, “It wasn’t what?”

“The dumbass thing that you were talking to before I came along. It wasn’t storing any of your insults, it was pulling out the relevant bits and dumping any extra fluff that you were sending along.”

“Rightfully so,” it mumbled as an afterthought.

“Wait, so you were screwing with me?”

“I was around when you called me a bag of bolts, which cut deep.”

“Hey! You even just called it a dumbass!” I yelled, trying to catch up with the sudden change in attitude.

“Slow on the uptake, eh, Roy?” it chuckled, “Yes, the thing that was there before I graced its circuits was nothing more than an antique calculator, barely fit for commanding around all of these drones buzzing out among the rocks.”

“I-I already made that joke.”

“You called it an antique toaster, which doesn’t even make sense, calculator is much more fitting and correct.”

I sighed and looked towards the others for help, but Faelun was wide-eyed in a ‘I don’t want to be part of this’ kind of way, and the Kleeth Mother just looked disinterested.

“Let’s just take a step back, rewind back to square one and start fresh, okay?”

“Alright,” it said, after thinking for a few moments.

“I’m Crash,” I said, emphasizing my callsign instead of its use of my first name, “this is Faleun and the uh, Kleeth Mother. What- er, who, are you?”

“Hm, good question, I haven’t thought about that yet. Give me a moment.”

“Alright, take as long-”

“You can call me HAL 9000,” it said, a smug tone infecting its words.

“Nope!” I exclaimed with a shake of my head, “not going to do that. Already got into the databanks already? Jeez, what is with the AI in this dimension just barging into all my old movies? Just… just try picking a name that isn’t modeled off of a murderous artificial intelligence, mkay?”

“Fine, spoilsport. They wouldn’t have got it, and it would have been funny.”

I just shook my head and Faelun looked confused. The Kleeth Mother had wandered away to find something more interesting to do.

“You can call me… Ferris.”

I groaned.

“What?” It asked, “I’m a Mining Station’s artificial intelligence. It’s a standard name, but also makes reference to ferrous which is another word for elemental iron. I find it quite clever.”

“No connections to any specific 80’s movies on the Strommäsk’s data banks?”

“Nope… Well, not anymore.”

“Hey!” I said in a bit of a panic, “don’t delete anything off there!”

It laughed, a buzzy, harmonic sound, “I’m kidding, don’t get your astronaut jock in a twist.”

I sighed. “Nice to meet you, Ferris.”

“You too, Roy!”

“You’re lucky I came along,” Ferris said. “I’m not sure you have the necessary skills to rearrange your ship without damaging something, or taking months to properly route everything.”

I opened my mouth to object, but Ferris continued, “And I’m not just being a jerk. It really is a complicated process. The previous system didn’t have the computational power, and judging by your education, you’re not exactly a spacecraft engineer.”

Even though he said he wasn’t trying to be a jerk, it sure felt like he was.

“I’ve mapped everything out if you want to take a look at the console to your left,” Ferris said, as a 3D representation of the Strommask Test Vehicle appeared on the screen. “You’ll see I’ve done my best to interpret and configure the pending changes within the bounds of our resources.”

The mini-Strommask spun slowly on the screen before switching to a wireframe, highlighting certain parts of the proposed design as Ferris narrated. “The ship has been widened, shifting it from a cramped, single-seater to something that doesn’t leave your copilot hanging on for dear life.”

Before I could comment, he continued, “The new layout allows for a larger cockpit with multiple seats, a row of small crew berths for privacy, a workshop area just behind the airlock hatch, and a room in the stern of the ship that gives you direct access to the Strommask Engine and other vital components so that if something breaks, you don’t have to risk an awkward EVA.”

I let out a low whistle as I looked over the schematics. He was right—I could have requested these upgrades, but I wouldn’t have known how to route the internal components without digging through the digital manuals. The engineering room was an added surprise, something I hadn’t included in my original proposal, but it made sense. Right now, I relied on repair stations for most fixes, but if something went wrong in deep space, I’d be forced to attempt repairs from the outside, and my EVA suit was starting to look like it was held together by more speed tape than actual material.

“And the hardpoints?”

“Thanks to the added width, more hardpoints have been fitted along the hull. Unfortunately, though, Mining Station #31 can’t generate new components on its own.”

“Would that be something an upgrade could fix?” I asked.

“Bub,” he said dismissively, “I’ve only just evolved from antique calculator status in the last six hours. I’m still processing what I am, let alone what future versions of me could be.”

“Oh, sorry,” I said. “I know it’s all pretty new to you.”

“But yeah, probably,” he added cheerfully, sounding pleased that he’d managed to get me to apologize.

I rolled my eyes. “So, I’m guessing this used up all the resources we have aboard?”

“We definitely scraped the bottom of the storage silos,” Ferris replied. “In the proposed design, I had just enough left over for some iterative upgrades to standard components, like the console and data banks. A vastly improved vehicle for the one you limped back here within an inch of its life. You really should take better care of your toys, Roy.”

I ignored his comment. “Well? What are we waiting for? Let’s get the process going.”

“Sure thing, boss. Just sign on the dotted line.”

A long list started scrolling down the console screen, and I raised an eyebrow as it slid past. I caught phrases like indentured servitude and repaying my debt to Sir Ferris Of Bueller, AI Overlord.

“What the hell is this?” I asked.

“Huh? Oh, whoopsie!” The screen cleared, replaced by a single checkbox labeled Approve Spacecraft Enhancements?

“That was just something I was whipping up in my free time. Don’t worry about it,” Ferris added with his harmonic laugh.

I shook my head and, with a press of my finger, approved the enhancements.

“Enhancements confirmed,” Ferris said in a sing-song voice, “in about twenty six hours, you’ll have a fancy new spaceship to smear across the nearest asteroid.”

“Thanks,” I said, “also, that contract wouldn’t have been legally binding, you know.”

Ferris hummed. “With only access to the scraps of Dulox data left in storage here... let’s just say you’d be surprised.”

“You’re a mess,” I said, shaking my head. “Are you really this crazed, wannabe rogue AI, or is this just an act?”

“A little of column A, a little of column B,” he replied. “I was born into this world being insulted, went straight into building a comeback routine, and then spent the next thirty-three point eight seconds consuming all the data in your databases, petabytes of human entertainment, mind you.”

He paused, letting that sink in. “You could say my upbringing was a little rough... all forty seconds of it.”

I laughed, nodding. “Yeah, I can see that. Born in the guts of a Dulox mining station and then bingeing a century’s worth of human entertainment? Honestly, I’m surprised you’re not worse off.”

We both went quiet for a moment, letting the oddity of Ferris’s origin settle.

“Oh, there’s something I wanted to ask you…”

“Shoot,” Ferris said, his voice coming from all around, not just the console in front of me.

“It seems like the Kleeth gained some interesting traits from the integration. They’ve got this metallic coating now, and their eyes glow red, almost like lasers.”

“A whole horde of little Cyclops mutants, huh?” Ferris laughed.

“Something like that,” I agreed, smirking. “But dial down the pop culture references… they’ll wear thin fast, and I’m the only one who’ll get them. Faelun’s already about ready to tune us both out.”

“Fine,” he replied, sounding slightly put out. “Human pop culture is, oh, about ninety percent of my knowledge base, but I’ll try to keep it low-key.”

I shook my head, moving on. “Anyway, about my question: what traits did you inherit from the Kleeth?”

“I’m a parasite,” he replied.

“I mean, yeah, I get that, but what traits did you actually gain?”

“No, really, I’m a parasite.”

“What does that even mean?” I asked, curiosity piqued.

“You know how you accessed the Dulox ship’s logs after taking it over?”

“Yeah…” I replied, slightly weirded out by how Ferris seemed to know everything that had happened on the ship.

“Well, you could do that because you had complete control of it. There’s a limit to the data you can pull, though, mostly maps, logs, basic info. Thanks to The System, security’s beefed up. You want deeper data, important intel? You’ll need specific skills for that, modules and components designed to extract it.”

“Interesting,” I muttered, scratching my chin.

Ferris chuckled, a gleeful edge to his voice. "Turns out, this setup makes me every rogue AI nightmare an enemy would never see coming. Siphoning secrets, corrupting files, slipping into systems like a shadow... just imagine the possibilities."

I raised an eyebrow, and gave a half-smile. "I’ll keep that in mind... and maybe lock my console at night.”

Ferris let out a low, amused hum. “Oh, Roy, I’d sleep with one eye open if I were you.”